#please forgive the flipping and flopping of the lighting

[rking200]

Sometimes the only road to take is the darkest Sometimes the only way out is as a carcass

Happy 6th Anniversary, Detroit: Become Human! As always, you can find these gifs and more on the Connor and Markus pages of my Gif Archive.

[drainslo]

Lovers to Enemies (Chishiya x Reader) (Pt 4/FINAL)

"I was lying," Chishiya said slowly through deep shuddering breaths.

"What?" I replied. I brushed strands of his silvery hair behind his ear, ignoring the flecks of blood the coated the tips. After all the face card games, he had no time to maintain his hair and I could see his roots growing in clearly. I remembered fondly how he asked me to dye the roots at the Beach a lifetime ago.

The cold pressing against my back was the side of a rusted car. It was a stark contrast to the warm puddles of blood oozing from our bodies after an encounter with Niragi.

I was the lucky one, it was only coming from my leg.

Chishiya? Not so much. We left it unsaid, but he was going to bleed out quicker than I would. Niragi's bullet that was intended for Usagi struck him in the chest instead. Chishiya had informed me that the bullet had almost hit the artery in my upper thigh, and I was also slowly bleeding out.

"When I said I knew my symbol, I was lying. I only had a 50% chance of guessing right. I figured I didn't deserve to know from you."

Symbol? I almost had forgotten. The Jack of Hearts was in my distant past, one I didn't like to revisit. But I knew what he meant-- that I would never forget. That moment in the warehouse, where everything became clear.

It was a hearts game that tore us apart, but it was another hearts game that brought us back together.

"I didn't know, I would've told you," I said quietly. I felt lucky that he was here with me, that we beat the coin flip. In another world, I would be dying alone. Or I would already be dead.

"I never said sorry to you. I think that was my greatest regret, that I never apologized. When I sat alone after beating Kuzuryu, that was what I was thinking. I should've said sorry."

"You didn't have to. I already knew you were, I felt it."

While he was clearing the King of Diamonds, I had taken down the Jack of Clubs. He left without saying a word to me about it, but I knew where he was.

And so I felt there was nothing else to do than to play a game.

"Did the Jack of Clubs say," he paused before wincing briefly. "--Say anything meaningful?"

I didn't hesitate before responding. "No. He was mainly a jerk. It was a little like the Jack of Hearts. He was an insider within trying to sabotage our teamwork. They might've been friends."

"Friends. What a world they live in. Designing death games together."

I heard a shuffling noise and I looked to see Chishiya turning his head towards mine painfully. He flopped his arm out and I felt warmth flood through my palm as our hands touched. "Chishiya--"

"Kuzuryu ultimately died for his ideals. I manipulated him into making the decision. I felt so empty afterwards. I went looking for someone to talk to. I wanted to do something uncharacteristic. I think I was simply looking for you."

A tear started rolling down my cheek, the salty warmness making me shiver. Chishiya reached up carefully, then clumsily wiped it away.

"Forgive me," he blurted unabashedly. He seemed taken aback with how it came out, but he repeated, "Please, forgive me."

More tears joined the first, and I was hardly able to speak. "I don't think I ever will, but I'll love you instead."

He tried to laugh, but it mostly came out as coughing. I reached over to steady him. "That's more than I will ever ask for."

Our conversation was broken by loud cracking sounds. Trails of light danced up into the sky, before exploding in a cascade of colors.

"Arisu did it," I said in disbelief.

ALL SURVIVING PLAYERS PLEASE ANSWER THE FOLLOWING: YOU HAVE BEEN OFFERED CITIZENSHIP FOR THE NEXT ROUND OF GAMES AND HAVE PERMANENT RESIDENCY. DO YOU ACCEPT OR DECLINE?

The answer to me was obvious, and as soon as the announcement finished I answered: "I decline."

Chishiya was silent for a moment. He appeared to be weighing options that were clear to nobody but himself. Finally, he spoke. "I think I'll decline."

I smiled upon hearing his answer. "I'm glad you've declined. Let's return to the real world together."

"Truthfully, I don't think I deserve to go back with you. In another world, I would have to spend the rest of my life making up for what I've done to you."

"You better start soon, then. You were a medical student right? I wish you would take care of my leg." I joked.

He rolled his eyes blatantly.

"My name is Shuntaro," he then said suddenly. "Chishiya Shuntaro. When I see you-- that's my name."

"I love you Shuntaro," I said, his name rolling off my tongue in an unfamiliar way.

Everything exploded into white, but I swore I heard him mutter that he loved me too.

---

I tried to breathe, but the ash in the air made it hard to. There was so much dust in the air that it settled to the very bottom of my lungs.

I turned left and right, and tried to move. I felt a weird pressure on one of my legs. I looked down to see rubble piercing through it, the only thing preventing blood gushing from the rest of my body.

"Don't move miss! We're getting you out of here," a first responder yelled.

I blinked to see that my surroundings were in chaos. Ambulances and first responders swarmed the place, and with most of the buildings nearby being destroyed there was debris everywhere.

"I think I'm going into shock," I said calmly before blacking out. Before it became all dark, I saw a flash of silver in the corner of my eye.

The second time I woke up, it was to the uncomfortable sensation of pinpricks over my body. I wriggled side to side, to find that I was confined to a hospital bed.

There was a man with the same shade of silver hair I saw waiting next to my bed. He was quite handsome, and for a moment I seriously considered that I died. I had never seen him before in my life, but when I saw him I felt another stabbing pain.

I coughed loudly, which alerted him to my presence.

"Sorry- how are you feeling? There's a severe lack of medical staff after the accident, so they've started recruiting anyone they can to assist."

"Accident? And what do you mean by anyone?" Confused, I tried to sit upright but he pushed me down.

"Stay like that, your leg needs to heal. There was a meteor accident that killed and injured thousands. I'm truthfully only a medical student," he rolled his eyes briefly then continued, "When they found out I was a medical student at this hospital, as soon as I was cleared to walk they enlisted me to work. I mostly monitor patients."

I pondered the information he told me. Accident? I felt lucky to be alive. I craned my neck forward to see the thick cast that encased my leg. I guessed I wouldn't be walking for a long time.

I felt especially sorry for the man who was working while injured. "What were your injuries?"

He smiled wickedly and reached up to pull his medical coat open. I gasped, thinking he was flashing me but instead there were bandages wrapped all around his chest.

"What the fuck! You shouldn't be walking," I exclaimed. The extent of his injury seemed bad enough that he should've been bedridden for weeks.

"I shouldn't be," he affirmed. "I insisted. I've been in the hospital longer than you have, you were transferred here recently."

I gasped again, and hit the side of his leg playfully. "What would prompt you to do something like that? Are you just an angel? I don't think many people would disregard their own safety for others."

The man stared off into the distance for a moment, like he was entering a world that was far away. The sunlight glinted off his silvery hair.

"I woke up feeling like I had to atone for something. I realized that I was an empty person, and I had the urge to do something uncharacteristic."

Another pain. I should've focused on the fact that a stranger had opened his heart to me when we hadn't met. Instead, I thought about how I had definitely heard someone, maybe even him, say that before. All of a sudden, I saw puddles of blood lining the floor in a field of grass. I felt the warmth of a hand next to me. As quickly as I felt those sensations, they vanished.

He looked down to check a watch strapped across his wrist. "The doctors will be in soon. I'll tell them you're conscious."

He pushed the bedside chair away, and I grabbed the cold metal of his watch to stop him from leaving. "Wait-- you never told me your name."

"Chishiya," he said and hesitated. "Chishiya Shuntaro."

Chishiya. The name suited him, and I got the vague feeling that deep down I had already known who he was.

"Well, thanks for checking up on me Dr. Chishiya. I hope I'll be seeing you soon," I winked, hoping he would catch on to my blatant attempt at flirting.

He did, and avoided meeting my eyes. "Not today, maybe another time I'll make it up to you."

"Sorry, was I too forward? I just felt that there might be something..." I trailed off and paused. "Nevermind."

"Familiar? How interesting." Chishiya pulled out a notepad and scribbled something down on it and handed it to me. "My number. Give me a call when you can."

And without saying anything more, he walked out of my hospital room. Normally, this would mean he was walking out of my life. Yet somehow, I got the feeling that our lives were inextricably entangled at some point. Maybe in a past life, our paths had crossed. Or maybe in a distant world full of bloodshed, he was my companion.

One thing I knew for certain, is that I would be calling him soon.

FIN

[lauriegraham01]

follow my shadow around your corner

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader, steve rogers x f!reader (40s!bucky/steve)

summary: childhood bestfriends venture together as they attend prom and reader shares tender moments between the two. (kinda slowburn/ reader doesn’t realize she’s in love with both)

wc: 1,167

a/n: my very first work published on here, looking forward to uploading more content- hope u enjoy! (and please forgive the quality, i’m learnng to imrpove everyday <3 )

“C’mon doll, we ain’t got all day!” 

“I’m coming, I'm coming!” I yelled back at Buck whose patience was running thin as we were already running late to the dance. As i grab my clutch from the nightstand, I rush downstairs to make my grand entrance. As I reached to the bottom of the stair landing Bucky and Steve both immediately rush to stand on their feet and Ms. Rogers lets out a gasp. Passing seconds of silence combined with the look on their faces left me anxious and self doubt threatened to creep in. 

“Is this okay? Do I look alright?” Smoothing the top layer of my dress I look nervously between Steve and Bucky. 

“You look……like an angel.” Steve breaks the silence- a bit breathlessly, as he steps forward into the dimly lit living room light. 

“Oh, Steve” I mused at him, feeling my face warm at his affection. 

“No, he’s right.” Bucky then speaks, capturing my attention from Steve. He walks beside Steve where they stood shoulder to shoulder.

“Doll, you look just breathtaking.” 

As they stood tall I was able to take in their appearances for the night and to say that the two were dressed handsomely would certainly be a disservice. The truth is that they both were striking- Bucky in his well pressed suit and that hair slicked back to where he is nothing short of suave, and Steve, who stood tall in his new suit that he had been saving months for- and with the baby blue necktie that I had gifted him for his birthday from the year before. My darling boys.

“Thanks Buck.” I giggled before playfully punching his shoulder. Shooting me that slick smile as he feigned injury. 

“Arighty picture time!!” Ms. Rogers squeals gleefully as she readies her contax camera to capture this moment. 

After the impromptu photoshoot back with Ms. Rogers, the three of us swiftly embarked on our journey to the school gym where the prom was being held. While the three of us came to the dance together as a trio, Steve was technically my date, like many times before at countless dances. Upon arriving, Bucky began searching for his date which was a girl in our grade that I hadn’t known all too well. After much convincing, Steve agreed to dance with me and I teased how he would come to regret giving in. We danced for over half of the night, truly without a care in the world. Joining our other school friends upon running into them throughout the night. When the lights cut off and we were told to go home, I think Steve knew I was anything but ready for the night to be over. Joining our schoolmates from earlier, Steve and I went to eat at a diner nearby. We knew Bucky was still out with his date so we had no worries in going out by ourselves. 

After spending hours sat side by side in that diner booth laughing with friends and splitting milkshakes, we knew that we had better get back home before it got any later. As we bid our farewells and walked into the cool night air of Brooklyn, I held onto Steve the entire walk home. As we walked through the door, I glanced at the clock in the kitchen to read the time. It was nearly 3:17 a.m. and I never felt more relieved at Ms. Rogers working the night shift- successfully avoiding a possible lecture about our tardiness. 

Steve made his way towards the couch and flopped face-first onto it out of exhaustion. He then flips over to lay on his side and extends an arm, and with that playful glimmer in his eyes I automatically know he’s inviting me to join. As I make my way and curl up next to him, the extent of my exhaustion finally settles in. As I laid my head on his chest, I felt the rhythm of his heart calm me down from the long night. 

“Angel” Steve cooed in my ear. 

“Hmm?” I hummed lazily in response. Tilting my head up to look at him, my eyes captured his as I shot him a lazy smile. 

“You look beautiful.” Steve admits, as his hand rubbed soothing circles on my lower back, pushing me ever so subtly further into him. 

“Steeeve.”

“I mean it.” He chuckles sweetly. “You’re my best girl.”

As I looked into his eyes, I saw nothing but adoration pooled within those ocean eyes. My eyes flicker down to his lips for just a second before looking back up into his eyes- yet when I do I note that he too had adverted his gaze to flicker onto my lips. A tap on the window brought the both of us back to reality, as I look across the apartment, I see Bucky peering from outside on the fire escape. Flashing us a dopey grin, he quickly climbed up the remaining steps that led to the roof. 

“I’ll go see what he’s doing out there.” I mumbled quietly. Wanting to excuse myself from whatever that moment was that just happened with Steve. 

“Mhm, yea sure.” Steve gulped shifting so that I could get up from the coach. 

As I climbed up the fire escape, goosebumps from as the cold air nipped at my skin. However nothing could’ve prepared me for what awaited me at the top. Bucky stood there in midst of the night skyline with a rose in hand and a gramophone on the ground playing “The Way You Look Tonight.” 

“What’s this?” I let out in bewilderment at the man and the scene he’s laid in front of me. 

“I realized on the way home that I never got a chance to dance with my best girl.” 

“Well you were rather occupied.” 

“And this is me making up for it.” 

As I stood in front of him he extended a hand outwards and I glanced at it, taking in the invitation.

“Y/N, may I have this dance?” 

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” 

He took me in his arms and we begun to sway gently to the music, feeling at home and at peace within his embrace. It was moments like these that made me question my feelings for Bucky-and Steve. The two had my heart in a way that no other has. They’d both been in my life forever and I intend on keeping it that way forever. I had wrestled with the idea of whether or not I feel something more for either of them but even if I did, there was no possible way that any of this could be reciprocated, right?

Just as I was swimming deep within my thoughts, Bucky plants a tender kiss to my forehead, lingering for longer than usual. 

“I love you, doll.” He strains out, as though he’s holding back from saying something more, from feeling something more. 

“I love you too, James.”

[arabellavernierwrites]

they’re your jeans / steve harrington

summary: one day reader notices her best friend steve’s ass looks especially nice, reader finds out he has been stealing her jeans. 

pairing: (fem)platonic!reader x best friend!steve (can also be read as romantic) 

warnings: talk of pant size and fit 

word count: 1,182

author’s note: hey everyone, this is my first time writing for steve, and i am planning on writing for more stranger things ! i take requests for all characters except for any of the younger kids (like erica obviously) or any of the parents. this has been edited a few times, but there might still be a mistake of two, feel free to tell me ! if you want me to write for any gn characters, please request that because i will. hope you guys like this one !

   it was the end of the work day and you and your best friend steve were getting ready to close down shop at family video. the shelves of movies were stacked high around you as you knelt on the ground, putting the last few tapes away, preparing to go home. 

   steve was turning off the computer that logged the sales, the fluorescent lighting that kept the store bright, and all of the glimmering signs that displayed the newest feature films. 

   “all i’m saying is i think that people shit on weird science too much. is it the best movie anyone has ever seen? obviously not. but, it’s funny and easy to watch. who goes into a comedy called weird science expecting it to be critically acclaimed, anyways? if anything, that’s on the people for having set their expectations too high,” steve said, finishing his small list of tasks. 

   “you should write that down and send it to the academy. they might let you on their board when award season rolls around,” you teased, standing up and dusting your hands off on your jeans. 

   “then i could really rub it in keith’s face for trying to refuse to hire me before,” he spoke ironically, clocking out. 

“robin would never forgive you if you were a member of the academy and she wasn’t. especially since she got you this job,” you both laughed simultaneously, imagining the things she would say and do if that were to be true. 

“you got the keys?” steve asked, vest in hand, ready to head out. 

you looked up from your time card at him. he was standing in front of the double doors, flipping the sign over to say closed. his back was facing your direction and you couldn't help but look down at his ass. something about it looked different today. it was bigger and more shapely than you had noticed before in his typically un-fitted pants. 

“steve, not to be weird, but your ass looks fantastic in those jeans,” you stated, nodding your head and looking his legs up and down. 

“thanks, they’re yours,” he smirked, quickly making an exit from the store. 

you stopped, eyes unmoving from the spot that steve had just stood. your jeans?

steve was wearing your jeans? you thought of where he could have found them, when he could have taken them, why he decided to try them on. 

and how did they fit his softly muscular build? 

you let out a quiet mix of a chuckle and a scoff, slightly unbelieving, and decided to forget it for the evening. you grabbed your bag and left, locking the door behind you. 

when you got home, you went straight to your room. 

you kneeled in front of your dresser, sliding one of the bottom drawers out. sure enough, there was an empty space where the jeans would typically reside. 

he really took your pants. and not only did he take your pants, he wore them all day without you noticing. how long had they been missing? was he wearing them without you around? 

you flopped down on your bed, thinking about steve in your jeans. you pictured him strolling the aisles of the supermarket, struggling to wiggle his fingers into the practically non-existent pockets of women’s jeans, pulling out his folded up list, scouring the products lined up in front of him. 

or standing in front of his mirror, blasting foreigner, shimmying into the tightly fitting fabric, doing one big jump to pull them up all the way. you could see him posing, trying on a myriad of shirts with them with the intention of building different outfits. 

if dustin knew he was wearing women’s jeans, he would never hear the end of it. 

you smiled and shook your head. 

getting up from your spot on the floor, you decided to dial the man of the hour, “hey, steve. are you doing anything fun this evening?” 

“does being at your front door in a couple of minutes count?” he questioned, his tone light. 

“hanging out with me is the most fun you could possibly have, steve harrington,” you giggled into the phone. 

“which is exactly why i’ll be there. i’ll see you in a few,” he announced. 

“yes sir,” you joked, hanging up the phone. 

before you knew it, steve was ringing the doorbell. the bells chimed throughout the house as you jogged down the stairs, not wanting to leave him waiting for long. 

opening the door, the first thing you looked to were his pants. your pants. 

“eyes up here, pretty lady,” steve teased, ruffling your hair as he walked past you through the front door. you closed it behind him, watching as he took his shoes off and led himself up to your room. 

“are you coming or what?” he called, not bothering to turn around to look at you as he climbed the stairs. 

“you’re a freak, you know that right?” you put question to, amusement swirling in your voice. you followed him, catching up and sliding your fingers into one of his belt loops. 

“if you only knew the half of it,” he stated. 

“trust me, i do,” you pulled on the belt loop, half-twirling him to face you, “are you gonna tell me how and why you decided to take these?”

he took both of your hands in his, stepping back so you could get the full view, “on saturday, you were taking a shower before getting ready to go to that party, right? you left a pair of jeans on your bed and it got me curious, so i looked in your drawer and grabbed one of your baggier pairs. i slid it under my jacket so i could take them home.” 

“and it never crossed your mind to just ask if you could try them on? you know i would have let you,” you inquired, entertained by his thought process. 

“it did cross my mind, but i like stealing from you more,” he reached down, pinching both of your sides, causing you to squeal and pull away from him. 

“jerk!” you taunted as he picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder. 

“i’m a jerk?” he scoffed, a grin spreading across his face. he spun you into your room, tossing you onto your bed. 

his hands reached back down to your sides, tickling you while you squirmed around. 

“a jerk that steals my clothing!” you choked out between gasps. you couldn’t help but match the smile he had on his face.

he stopped, holding you in your place, “but you still love me.”

“of course i do, it’s charity work really. you need me,” you grabbed his arms, pulling him to lay next to you. 

steve dramatically clutches your shoulders and pulls you against him, “what would i do without you?” 

“have to find someone else’s jeans to steal, apparently,” you replied, equally as dramatic. 

“well, i fit in robin’s too, so, whew,” he pretends to wipe sweat from his forehead. 

you didn’t even want to know, “you’re such a weirdo.”

“a weirdo who loves you,” steve pulls you back in tight, giving one more quick pinch to your waist.

[tj-wrote-things]

𝐇𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝗼

Nikolai Lantsov x fem!Grisha!reader

Based off of this ask

A/N- Hey besties, this is kinda late,, and i hate it but only a little bit. Can you guys like -stop requesting arguments??? pls its breaking my heart.

Mega thanks to @itisroe e for being my editor and shoulder to whine on :)

*Id like to take a moment to say that Nikolai is a bit of a dick in this one, and id like to reiterate that its never okay to invalidate or insult a so. I dont condone that type of behavior, im just writing it

enjoy:)

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If there was one thing Nikolai Lantsov knew how to do, it was pout. You caught him— more than just a few times— slouched over on the blush red couch with his arms crossed, face smushed into a scowl as he studied you packing your bag.

You sighed, casting an increasingly irritated glance at him as you folded the coarse cloth of your winter coat and tucked it away with the rest of your belongings. The weight would be too much to bear, but you knew it would be cold up north where you were headed alongside Zoya and the Bataars. 

“I’m leaving at dawn, whether you like it or not, Sobachka.” 

The King looked away briefly at your words, hating understanding that you were right. He hauled himself out of his seat and redirected his sulking to the world outside the large window. It was beautifully blanketed in steadily falling snow. 

“Will you really make our last night together a bitter one?” you commented.

“It wouldn’t be our last night if you’d just let me come with you,” Nikolai huffed. 

You exhaled, dreading that this would be the third time you had this discussion, which, in his world, was more so a debate.

The reason was simple: Nikolai had no business accompanying them. The objective of the mission to Fjerda was a peace treaty between the Drüskelle and the Grisha populous. As Nikolai fit neither category, it had been decided that he would stay back and continue to hold the country together.

“We’ve been through this: to bring more people on the expedition would only irritate the Fjerdans. Especially, the king of a country with which they’ve been at war for a considerable amount of time,” you reiterated. 

Nikolai shook his head again, unwilling to accept it. He refused to welcome the fact that the love of his long life would be away and in perpetual danger for weeks. 

The wind whistled as it bounded against the window, filling the room with a violent creaking.

“It’s dangerous, Y/N, why can you not understand—” 

You cut him off swiftly as his voice began to rise, “You watch that tone, Lantsov, or I’ll—” 

Now, it was Nikolai’s turn to cut you off: “You’ll what? Leave early?” The young man turned to you from the window and met your incredulous gaze. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. We both know it's your only vice.”

“My only vice,” you mocked cynically. “In what regard?” 

Nikolai spread his arms patronizingly as if he were explaining the obvious to his childhood self.

“Your heart craves adulation,” he said, pointing a sharp, accusatory finger your way. “You’ll take any opportunity to leave Os Alta— leave me— and flaunt your gifts.” 

Your heart thudded heavily in your chest. In anger or despair, you could not tell.

You would not lie to yourself. You knew with all your heart that, all things considered, your mastery of the Small Science was a blessing, hidden behind the mask of a devil. In the days you served faithfully in the Second Army, your gifts were revered and you were respected in the highest regard amongst your Grisha peers. However, in the years following the war, you became like everybody else. 

It was at the behest of your husband that you progressively began to use your power as an Inferni less as the days passed. Ever the political mastermind, he had approached you one summer evening and begged you refrain from using your power in public, claiming that the presence of a Grisha Queen was too much for his fragile country to bear. In the beginning, you had agreed, for if there was one thing that surpassed your love for your husband, it was your shared love for Ravka.

You knew that relations between the Grisha and the others were strained, and so you agreed, taking your husband's hand and promising to limit the displays of glowing orange flames which had burned your enemies as well as warmed the hands of your allies. 

It was becoming increasingly difficult to train behind a closed gate, under a roof, beneath the watchful eye of First Army guards armed with fire extinguishers. In fact, it had grown so stifling you had begun to resemble Alina Starkov when first she came to the Little Palace, with her pallor skin and brittle locks.

You brushed the aforementioned hair, now soft and healthy from the effects of tailoring, behind your ear as you placed the brush down and sharpened your stare at Nikolai’s face, shrouded in silver shadows from the icy light of the moon.

“Craves adulation,” you grumbled, knowing that if your voice rose any higher, it would betray every emotion storming around your heart. “Have a look in the mirror, Nikolai, and tell me which of us truly fits your description.”

His description, in all its insulting glory, fit Nikolai Lantsov to the tee.

Nikolai Lantsov, who would smile and wave to a crowd with a Sun Summoner on his arm, allowing you to watch with disdain from your place on a horse beside Mal. Nikolai Lantsov, who would hide behind a pair of gloves to escape the truth of what he had become. Nikolai Lantsov, who had pushed his wife into a state of sickness, albeit unknowingly, sacrificing her life’s blood for the sake of his country.

Nikolai Lantsov, who resolutely shook his head, running a hand through the already dishevelled hair on his head, before waving it dismissively, as if swatting a fly. “Please. You’d flick your hands for anyone who’d ask— if they clapped hard enough.” Nikolai moved for the bookshelf, drawing out a novel as if his words were mere small talk with an old friend.

Your anger blurred to shock. “Flick my hands—”

“Honestly, you take every opportunity to flaunt it. I’m surprised the Little Palace is still standing after having you inside for twenty years!” 

There was no sense to his vile declarations now. Though, Nikolai could not see it. The anger, betrayal, and frustration at being left behind were all that clouded his boyish mind as he hurled one unkind word after the other.

“Nikolai,” You moved towards him, arm outstretched, eyes beginning to water. “Lapushka, please—” As your hand approached his, the storm heavier than ever. He wrenched his arm away from you, leering his head back to look you in the eyes.

“Truly, I can’t be sure why you haven’t left already.”

“For saints’ sake, Nikolai. Look at me!”

The dam broke as you flicked your hands, removing the tailoring to your appearance, unveiling the truth of your restrictions.

Nikolai stared with an open mouth and hard eyes as the warm winter flush of your cheeks was replaced with dulled skin, and the sleek shine of your hair was redefined with a brittle and unkempt bush.

“The only person from whom I crave adulation,” you whispered, “is the only man who’s too thick to look past a wavering mask.”

The Lantsov King swallowed, flipping the book restlessly in his hands. “Y/N—”

“Get out.” You left no room for him to argue, even when he opened his mouth once more. “I said leave!” You stalked to the door, pulling it open with a loud shriek of wood. “Now.”

Nikolai Lantsov, who spent the night in a guest room, in a state of perpetual regret.

No amount of tossing and turning brought any comfort to his aching heart, nor his pounding head. He flopped halfheartedly in the guest bed, stiff from lack of use, and from lack of you, revisiting the disgusting words he’d spat. The reason for them, however unjustified, sat heavily on his chest, suffocating him at an agonizing rate.

Nikolai Lantsov, who was afraid that— like his mother and father— you would grow to resent his blood, resent it for its stark difference to yours. The fear that you would  regret your marriage to what your people called an otkazat’sya: the abandoned.

The King figured it was only a matter of time before the title served him fully. 

It was reasonable, wasn’t it? To lash out at a time of vulnerability? Nikolai couldn’t be sure, having grown up in a family of despots who had never given him the time of day when it mattered most. 

Watching the tailored facade fall from his wife’s face, Nikolai was reminded solely of his mother, who, like you, was coerced into moulding her face into that of the perfect queen, at the behest of her husband. He knew then that all he had said and done was wrong. Wrong to her, and wrong to her people.

How could he bring himself to apologize? To walk into their bedroom and beg forgiveness? Would she forgive him? Even if he stooped— a king in tears and on his knees for the woman he loved perhaps more ardently than the country he vowed to govern— would she, in all her scorned glory, crouch beside him, take his face in her hands, and kiss away his regret?

Could he expect her to?

Dawn came around all too swiftly, rousing husband and wife from their fitful sleep in separate rooms, and with it came your departure to the northern lands.

You stood side-by-side with Nikolai as the carriages were loaded with provisions, luggage, and gifts for the Drüskelle, refusing to look at him. Instead, digging fruitlessly in your shoulder bag as an excuse to keep your head down.

The call came from the footman as the time arrived for you to leave. You didn’t make it more than one step forward with your hand gripping the leather strap of your bag before a firm grasp was on your waist.

“Wait,” whispered Nikolai, tugging you back. He cast a glance at the guard, letting him know that they would need a moment. “I can’t let you leave— not like this.” 

You held your gaze to the floor. Gently, he tilted your head back up with his thumb and forefinger. “Not now, not when you can barely look at me,” he continued. You held his stare as his hand shifted tentatively towards your jaw. “Not when I can’t be sure you won't come back to me, Milaya.”

You sniffled softly at the nickname, moving your own hand to his face and pausing to tuck away a loose golden curl.

“Please come back to me,” he said softly as if he were sharing a secret. There was an unspoken apology apparent in his reddening eyes while the seconds ticked by.

“Of course,” you murmured back, tipping his head down as you pecked his brow, then his cheek. “Nikolai, there’s not a thing in this world that could keep me away from you.”

You kissed him soundly, your hand running across the expanse of his jaw as he leaned into the tender forgiveness settled in your palm. When you broke apart, Nikolai took your hand from his face. He kissed your palm and walked you to your carriage. The King watched with concerned eyes as you took your seat.

Nikolai kissed your hand once more from his place on the ground and looked up at you. “Swear you’ll write,” he said. “Or I’ll crash the proceedings.”

You barked a hearty laugh, squeezing his hand as he tried to let you go. “I will,” you promised. “And I’ll see you when I come back.”

It was another moment before you let go of his hand. His palm hit the carriage door bearing the Lantsov crest. You watched as the carriage travelled further and further away, Nikolai’s frame disappearing into the horizon. 

“I promise,” you whispered.

•

•

•

[sonseulsoleil]

First Sentence:

When he opened his eyes, the sight in front of him made his heart flip flop.

please enjoy the fluff. also this is a bit more than 5 lines. oops.

When he opened his eyes, the sight in front of him made his heart flip flop. It was Charlie, sitting up in bed next to him, checking his phone squinting slightly at the harsh light, clearly still a bit sleepy; it was so simple, so mundane, and yet it made Nick's chest burst.

"You know," Charlie said, voice still gravelly with sleep. "It's quite rude to stare."

"I can't help it," Nick returned, sitting up and wrapping an arm around his boyfriend's torso. "You're just so cute."

"Alright, I suppose I can forgive you." Charlie leaned into his embrace, a small smile on his lips. "It is a special day, after all."

"Oh, it's a special day is it?" Nick asked, feigning ignorance. "Is it a holiday? Someone's birthday? An anniversary?"

Charlie huffed at him. "Oh my god, Nick."

"Oh, you mean the moving in thing?" Nick asked, flashing a cheeky grin. "Yeah, I suppose that is pretty special."

"It almost doesn't feel real," Charlie murmured, burying his head in Nick's shoulder. "After four whole years apart at separate universities, we're finally..." He struggled with his words for a moment. "We're finally home."

send me the first line of a fan fiction, and I will write the next 5

[peachbear88]

Lights

A/N: Inspired by "Lights" by Elijah Woods. Highschool AU :)

Y/BF/N = Your best friend's name

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

"Y/N, we got an order for 2 original burgers and small fries." Wanda, your coworker calls. You grunt, flipping the beef patties on the grill swiftly before dishing them out onto buns with lettuce, tomato and cheese on them. You proceed to whirl around, lifting the fry cage up and out of the deep fryer, dumping them in a fry carton. Leaning through the small window between the kitchen and the restaurant front, you slide the meal through, winking at Wanda, who picks the meal up, blushing.

"Y/L/N! You better not be flirting back there!" Your best friend roars, leaving your face burning along with Wanda who's giggling.

"Shut up!" You shout back, attempting to hide the blush creeping up your neck.

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

After a long, gruelling 5 hours of your minimum wage, part time job, the three of you drag yourself out of the fast-food restaurant and into your beat up pickup truck, piling into it.

"Alright, Y/BF/N, we're dropping you off first, then I'll drop you off Wanda." You explain, starting the engine as Wanda gives you a quick peck on the cheek. Y/BF/N wolf-whistles and you glare, pressing a quick possessive kiss to Wanda's lips before pulling out of the restaurant's parking lot.

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

"Alright babe, this is your stop." You exclaim, putting your truck in park. Wanda looks at you longingly, clutching your hand tightly. You sigh, running your hand through her hair gently. "How about I walk you to the door?" She instantly perks up, her large green eyes staring back at you. You smile and the two of you exit the truck, her backpack slung over your shoulder. She clings to you, making the two of you take your time to cross the street. When you finally arrive, Wanda pulls you around, a pout on her face. You caress her defined features, pulling her chin up a little to give her a small kiss. She whines when you pull away but you take a deep breath, steeling your nerves and knock on the door. It swings open to reveal the scowling face of Ireyna, Wanda's mother. She never liked you. The moment you started dating Wanda, she raised her defenses. Quickly ushering Wanda into the house, she snatches the backpack viciously from your outstretched hand.

"You need to stay away from my daughter. She's an angel and you, you vermin are not a saint. She could do so much better then the likes of you and yet for some unknown reason, she chooses you. I'm warning you, stay awa-." She's interrupted as Wanda tugs on her arm gently.

"Mama!" She gives her mother a sharp glance and Ireyna backs down, shooting you one last glare before slamming the door in your face. You sigh, running your hands through your hair before trudging back to your pickup truck.

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

You arrive at your dingy apartment, flopping onto the couch before yanking out your phone. Messages from Wanda flood in and you smile to yourself. Your girlfriend of 6 years kept profusely apologizing for her mother's behaviour but your brushed it off, reassuring her everything was fine. After a good hour of texting her, you scrolled through your contacts, stopping at your best friend's name.

"What do you want?"

"I need your help tomorrow.

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

"Seriously?" Your friend stared at the jewellry before eyeing you unbelievingly. "Your broke ass wants to buy her a ring?" You smack them before returning your attention to the multiple glass cases.

"What do you think about this one?" You ask. They peer over your shoulder at the silver band in your hand. It's thin, with small green gemstones embedded in it. "It's perfect. It'll bring out her eyes." You decide, not bothering to wait for your friend's opinion. They roll their eyes, following you to the register.

"So you're seriously going to propose? Tell me the real reason why." They pester you as you pull your wallet out, handing the ring to the man behind the cashier. "It's because of her mom isn't it." You freeze.

"Okay, I won't deny, I do want to impress her mom but it's been 6 years. I want to give her what she deserves." You explain as the man extends his hand for the payment.

"That'll be $1,800." You choke, whirling back around to him. Quickly, you scan through your wallet, finding only a few $20 bills. "Loan me?" You plead your best friend but they empty their pockets to show they have nothing.

"Y/N. We work minimum wage and we're practically broke. We can't afford it." Y/BF/N explains and you sigh.

"Sorry for the inconvenience sir. Guess we can't afford it." You bid goodbye to the man, who gives you a small smile as the two of you exit the store. An idea forms in your head and you turn to your friend. "Hold on. What if I get Wanda to move in with me and I work extra to get the ring?" Your friend opens their mouth to oppose but you don't let them finish, running at top speed towards your truck, dialling Wanda's number.

"Y/N?" Wanda's voice comes through the line, slightly tired.

"Want to move in with me?"

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

Wanda's smile is huge as she walks into your apartment, bag slung over her shoulder. You wrap your arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug.

"Thank you for doing this. I know you're risking a lot." You whisper and she runs her fingers through your hair, calming you.

"I will do anything for you lyubov'." She reassures before making her way through the unit, exploring. "So where's the bedroom?" You chuckle sheepishly, rubbing your neck.

"About that... I don't have a bed." She whirls around, looking at you with concerned eyes.

"So where have you been sleeping?"

"Air mattress in the living room." You sigh, dropping your head into your hands. "Maybe your mom was right. I'm not good enough for you." You feel a pair of warm hands pull your own down from your face.

"Don't say that. We'll work through anything and everything together. One step at a time." She murmurs and you sigh, kissing her forehead.

"You're amazing."

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

You were sitting on the couch, phone in hand as you scroll through your social media. A light snore came from beside you and you look down at the air mattress to see Wanda, book laying on her chest, her head lolled to the side, asleep. You smile, slowly lowering yourself onto the mattress, removing the book from her grasp and wrapping your arms around her.

"I love you."

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

"Thank you so much for watching after my kids." You give her a small, tired smile. You'd recently taken up a babysitting gig to help achieve your goal of buying the ring.

"It's no problem ma'am. Just doing my job." She smiles at you before slapping a hundred bill in your hand. You stare at it before making futile attempts to shove it back into her hand.

"No! Keep it. You have no idea how much of a lifesaver you are." You thank her profusely before rushing out the house and zipping towards the ring shop. You were greeted by the friendly man from before who had kept the ring on hold for you. Finally. Finally you could show Wanda exactly how much she meant to you. You thanked the man, hopping into your truck and zooming back to the apartment complex, your speedometer never dipping below 50mph. Honestly, it was a miracle you weren't arrested.

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

"I'm home Wanda!" You cried excitedly but were met with silence. A dark figure sat on the couch. You approached her slowly and cautiously. "Wanda?" A small sob escapes from her. You surge forwards, wrapping your arms around her small body. "What's wrong? Babe, look at me." She glares at you and shoves her phone towards you.

"Are you cheating on me?" You stare blankly at her, before looking at the photo. A photo of you outside the babysitting woman's house.

"You followed me?" You ask, your heart cracking at the distrust of your girlfriend.

"With good reason! You're never around anymore! You're always off doing something else and you won't tell me what." She yells, standing up while tears pour down her face. "I guess my mom really was right. You aren't to be trusted." She grabs her pre-packed bag, brushing past you.

"Wanda wait! Please! I'm not cheating on you. There's a reason why I'm not around anymore." You explain desperately and she stops.

"Why?" You sigh inwardly.

"I can't tell you. It'd ruin the surprise." Wanda snorts, opening the front door.

"I hope it was worth losing me then." She slams the door and you flinch, hitting your forehead.

"Stupid, stupid stupid."

-----------

You knock tentatively on the door of Wanda's house, praying that she would answer. Unluckily, her mother answers, glaring at you.

"Hi Mrs. Maximoff, is Wanda home?" She glares at you, slapping you. Your hand flies up to your face where she slapped you.

"No. I'm done with this. You've hurt my daughter once, I'll be damned if I let you do it again. If I ever so much as see you, I'll rip your arms off and shove them up your ass!" She yells. You hold your ground, proffering the bouquet of roses to her, ring box and letter hidden deep inside of it.

"Okay. Just please, I'm begging you, give her this and I'll never bother you or your family again." You plead. Her menacing demeanor falters as she grabs the flowers. "Thank you." With that final note, you stalk back out into the rain, letting it consume you.

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

"Wanda honey? This came for you." Ireyna places the bouquet gently on Wanda's bed before closing the door behind her. Tentatively, Wanda prowls through the bouquet, pulling the letter and the ring box out. She pries the letter open, reading your words.

Wanda,

I know you probably hate me and never want to see me again but I feel that I must clarify what happened. That woman was offering me a job. A babysitting job to be exact. The reason I was taking extra jobs and not spending as much time with you was because I wanted to purchase something. Something for you. To show exactly how much you mean to me. I don't expect you to forgive me because I now know how much I hurt you. I was so blinded by the idea of an object that I neglected the real thing in front of me. I want you to have this as a token of my love.

The girl from your local fast food restaurant,

Y/N

She opens the black ring box, tears threatening to spill from her emerald green eyes. Inside, the silver band, embedded with green gemstones sits peacefully. The tears fall as she slips it onto her finger, almost subconsciously knowing that she will never see you again.

"I love you too."

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

Oof. Angst. Yikes. I told you @peabrain112. I told you.

Taglist: @username23345 @musicinourlips @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @trikuismybitch @ima-gi--na-tion @nicole-rayleigh-hot

[pedros-mustache]

mr. grinch

summary: javi was never going to be the all-out-for-the-holidays type, was he?

word count: 2.7k

warnings: borderline soft!javi (the heart wants what the heart wants), specifically related to the christmas holiday, a disgusting amount of fluff, x fem!reader

a/n: wrote a post about this concept and decided that wasn’t enough. my forte is angst and pining, not fluff, so forgive me if this is trash.

also: this will be repeated in the future, i’m sure, but if you have at all interacted with/commented on/reblogged/liked any of my previous fics thank! you! i would reply to each and every comment however that would require exposing my main (as this is a side-blog) and that’s not gonna happen. please know that i see and feel your love! xoxo! 

you long for the day after thanksgiving more than thanksgiving itself. 

sure, you enjoy the november holiday; it’s not like you hate it. especially since getting married, since having kids, you find thanksgiving means a little more to you now than it did prior to adulthood.

you enjoy packing the kids up and traveling across town to your mother’s house for thanksgiving breakfast and then packing the kids up again and going to javi’s father’s house for thanksgiving dinner. you enjoy sitting beside your husband, your hand on his thigh, as you watch your children play with their cousins or be passed around by distant aunts and uncles. you enjoy knowing that you’re safe, that javi’s safe, that the babies are safe. you enjoy knowing that you’re loved.

really, thanksgiving is nice, a good reminder of all that you have to be thankful for. but it’s just that: nice.

the day after thanksgiving, though... that’s when the real fun begins.

since childhood, your family has waited to decorate for christmas until the day after thanksgiving, and you’ve brought the tradition to your new household. javi tells you that your excitement for christmas overshadows thanksgiving, and maybe it does, but you really don’t care. not when christmas is ten times more cozy and festive than thanksgiving could ever dream of being. 

this year, you rise early on the appointed day and wake javi with a firm shake to the shoulder. he groans, rolls over to his stomach, and slips his head beneath a pillow.

“too early,” he mutters.

you exit the ensuite bathroom, rubbing your lotioned palms together as you prepare for a long day of unwrapping dusty boxes and fragile decorations. with a grin, you tap javi’s foot beneath the bedcovers. “get up before i sic the kids on you.”

he mumbles something under his breath, but the weight of the pillow muffles his words, so you leave him to his sulking. he’s never been a morning person, not in all the years you’ve known him. in a few minutes he’ll be up; you just have to give him time.

you find your son, tomás, awake and raring to go. six and a half years old and responsible as ever, it is his greatest joy in life to make his father proud. and though javier is a man of few emotional words, there’s a soft spot in his heart for both his children. today marks the first year tomás is old enough and capable enough to help his father with the outdoor decorations, and he’s already halfway dressed, his small feet shoved in tiny boots and his unruly hair snug beneath a baseball cap.

leaning against the doorframe, you watch as tomás struggles to get his arms through the sleeves of his sweatshirt. “you’re up bright and early,” you say, arching an eyebrow.

“wanna”—he bites his lip in concentration—“wanna help daddy today.” he drops his head with a heavy sigh. one elbow in particular remains stuck in the sleeve of his shirt, caught at a ninety degree angle.

you cross the bedroom to kneel in front of him and gently tug on his shirtsleeve. the arm once stuck at an uncomfortable angle flops to his side, and you smooth your hands over his narrow shoulders. “i’m sure you’ll be a big help, tommy. you just have to promise to do as daddy says.”

“yeah, i promise.”

with a squeeze to his arm, you cock your head to the open bedroom door. “go run downstairs and pour yourself some cereal while i get your sister up. daddy will be down soon.”

boots heavy around his ankles, tomás dutifully makes his way to the kitchen, his steps slow as he descends the steep stairs. his shoes clomp on the hardwood, and you hesitate, waiting to hear the cabinet doors open and shut, before moving to wake your daughter. you know by now that, though tomás thinks himself a fully grown boy, his legs often move faster than his brain, and you’ve had one too many tumbles down the staircase to show for it. the last thing you need today is a split forehead or bonked chin. 

like her brother, julieta is awake when you enter her dimly lit nursery. she gives you a gummy smile when you reach down to lift her from the small mattress, and she gurgles happily as you change her diaper and dress her for the day. her arms flap against her sides in joy as you enter your bedroom and place her on your bed. with practiced effort, julieta crawls her way up the bed and presses her tiny fists against javi’s shoulders. 

“come on, javier,” you say, pulling the covers away from your husband’s body. he groans in response, head still tucked beneath his pillow. “tommy’s already downstairs waiting for you.”

with a huff, javi turns to his back, drawing julieta with him, one broad hand splayed across her entire back. “getting up this early the day after thanksgiving is cruel and unusual punishment.”

“no—you’re just dramatic.”

“i think i ate too much pie yesterday.” he sits up with a frown. “i’m gonna have a beer gut like my uncle before you know it.”

“maybe, but i reckon you’ll still look cute.” you grab his wrist and tug him out of bed. he keeps julieta firm against his chest as he moves. “you know i don’t like to waste time, so please move that cute ass of yours downstairs. it’s past eight-thirty already.”

javi tosses a surprised look over his shoulder as you shove him out of the room, plaid pajama pants and all. “you think i have a cute ass?”

“shut up,” you grumble. 

tomás sits at the kitchen table, bowl of cereal on his plastic placemat. he grins when javi enters the room, and a line of milk dribbles down his chin, which you are quick to wipe away with a stray napkin.

“hi, daddy.” rising to his knees, tomás swivels in his seat and braces his hands on the back of the chair. he watches as javi deposits julieta in her high-chair then sets about making his morning pot of coffee. “we’re gonna put the lights up outside today?”

without turning away from the coffee maker, javi nods. “yeah, champ. but, you know, i was thinking.” his eyes slide to yours as he shuts the coffee maker’s lid and flips the on button. “what if we did something... different this year?”

you still. julieta makes grabby fingers for the half of the banana that still hasn’t been sliced for her, and she kicks her legs against the high-chair. “different?” you narrow your eyes. “different how?”

“oh, i dunno.” javi leans back against the stove and crosses his arms over his chest. he has all the air of nonchalance, but you know this is a calculated attack. if you know anything about your husband, it’s that once he gets an idea in his head, he’ll work his way forwards and backwards to bring it to fruition. “just different.”

“so no lights?”

javi shakes his head in reassurance for both you and your son. “no, tommy, we’ll still have lights. just different lights.” for the crescendo of his argument, javi crosses the kitchen and crouches beside your chair. he squeezes your thigh, his brown eyes soft and pleading. “come on, mi vida, let’s spice it up a little bit. i’ve got it all worked out, so you don’t have to worry about anything.”

you toss your head back on a laugh. “oh, i’m sure i won’t!”

“trust me, baby,” he whispers, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, and, for a moment, focusing more on the patterns of your face than his end goal. 

you feel your resolve soften. how can it not? javi is decidedly undomestic, even with a wife and two kids. oh, he loves you; he adores his children. but it’s been a long time coming to get to this moment—him on his knees with his own holiday decoration plans. you’d be a fool to turn him down.

you shut your eyes and give him a nod. “okay, fine. i trust you.”

javi pops to his feet with a loud clap and equally as loud, “alright!” he points to tomás. “finish your cereal, kid, ‘cause we got work to do.” 

dropping a kiss to the top of your head, he makes for the stairs. his socked feet slide on the linoleum, which causes to tomás to laugh in amusement, but you’re too stunned by javi’s sudden change of mood that you can’t help but feel like you’ve been duped. 

spice up christmas decorations? you can only pray that whatever he has in store won’t get you a stern letter from the homeowner’s association. 

***

before beginning his mysterious outdoor decorating project, javi pulls all the boxes labeled christmas down from the attic. he helps you assemble the artificial tree in the corner of the living room, and he, though with a good measure of grumbling, adjusts and readjusts the garland draping the front door. 

but as soon as you give him the go ahead, he pushes you inside, makes you promise not to peek until he’s finished, and, like schoolboys up to no good, hurries away with tomás.

as the door slams in your face, effectively cutting you out of the fun, you glance at your daughter and roll your eyes. “men,” you say, and she coos in agreement.

it’s easy to get lost in your work for the remainder of the afternoon. there’s tens of ornaments to put on the tree and the little village to set up along the front windowsill. julieta follows as you move throughout the house. she crawls, or scoots on her bum, or rolls behind in her baby walker. she’s primarily a happy baby, and after tomás and his terrible twos, you’re thankful for a reprieve from the incessant crying and surly attitude. 

christmas tune after christmas tune drifts from the record player in the foyer, and you bump along to the music, finding the work of unpacking boxes and artfully arranging decorations is not so much work with a good playlist and a giggly baby on your hip.

after pausing for lunch, you resume with the finishing touches. the house looks cozy, you have to admit. the tree sparkles in its corner, and the quaint ceramic village display on the windowsill reminds you spending the holidays with your grandmother as a child. there’s miniature, stuffed snowmen in the kitchen that tomás made in school and papier-mâché carolers that javi’s aunt crafted in the hall. an advent calendar hangs from the back of the closet door, and a spring of faux mistletoe dangles over the dining room doorway.

you’re proud of your work, but more than that, you’re proud of the life you’ve made alongside your husband. when he’d proposed all those years ago (a dreadfully unromantic proposal of a ring simply slid across the table at a restaurant), he’d promised life with him wouldn’t be easy. he hadn’t been lying. still, you’ve made it this far, and you wouldn’t go back on your vows for the world.

it does surprise you that you haven’t heard a peep out of the boys for most of the day. tomás hasn’t so much as run inside to use the bathroom or grab a drink of water. either javi’s spicy christmas decorations were more labor-intensive than he’d originally planned, or he’d jaunted off to his father’s house to escape the responsibility, taking tomás with him. you can’t decide which possibility you’d prefer.

before you can pick up the phone to call your father-in-law, the garage door opens. javi sticks his head into the hallway, a wide grin on his face when he sees you.

“okay, we’re ready.”

you put a hand on your hip. “are you sure?”

“yeah, i’m sure.” he steps inside long enough to lift julieta from her place in the bouncy walker. he sets her on his shoulders, and she squeals as she grabs fistfuls of his hair. “i thought you trusted me?”

you place the phone on the receiver and grab your jacket. “don’t throw my words back at me, javier.”

he taps your ass when you brush past him into the garage. “you’ll love it,” he says. “but you have to close your eyes.”

“really? just how different are these decorations?”

“oh, it’s like nothin’ you’ve seen before, hermosa. now shut your eyes!” with an exaggerated sigh, you close your eyes. javi squeezes your shoulder, and you start to walk forward into the driveway. “tomás, keep a watch on your mother. make sure she doesn’t peek.”

javi maneuvers you until you feel the driveway beneath your feet give way to soft grass. he places julieta in your arms then squeezes both of your shoulders. you can feel the excitement in his fingers, feel it in the way he practically bounces with anticipation behind you. you have entirely no idea of what to expect, but if putting up christmas decorations has made javi this excited, no matter what the decor is, you’ll let him do it every year.

“ready, tommy?”

“ready!”

javi presses a kiss to the side of your neck, his arm winding around your stomach to pull you back against his chest. he is firm behind you, the solid foundation on which your family stands. “ready, mi vida?” his voice is low, and even after all this time, it still sends a shiver down your spine.

in lieu of answering aloud, you simply nod.

“okay. tomás, in three... two... one.” he squeezes your hip. “open your eyes.”

the air in your chest leaves in a giant whoosh as you take in his decorations.

“oh my god, javier,” is all you can say as you stare in dumb-founded shock.

javier laughs—a real, hearty laugh—as he watches your face. “isn’t it great?!”

it—it being a wooden cutout painted to look like dr. seuss’s the grinch.

it being that cutout pulling down a strand of illuminated colored lights from the gutter. 

it being the most half-hearted christmas decorations you’ve ever seen. 

“where on earth did you get that?”

“eddie from two streets away. i saw it in his yard and knew i had to have one, so he got another from his guy and gave it to me.” he shakes his head as he looks on in pride. “best forty bucks i ever spent. it’s been in the back of my truck for weeks!” 

“you are so lucky that i love you, javier.”

he laughs again, squeezing you tighter against his chest. “hey! i put lights on the bushes for you. that’s gotta count for something?”

dropping your head against his shoulder, you nod. “it does. and the more i look at the grinch, the funnier it is.” you hold up a finger. “but i’m not laughing yet.” 

you glance at your neighbor’s house, at the cookie-cuter lights lining the frame of their two-story, at the mechanical reindeer bobbing their heads up and down. you look back at your... grinch, at his twisted smile and tip-toed stance and the sad string of lights wound from his hand to the gutter. you snort in amusement.

“i’ve got to hand it to you—this is the most javier peña thing you’ve ever done. i’m almost proud.”

“i knew you’d love it.”

turning in his arms, you shake your head. “no, i just love you.” 

javi smiles and lowers his head to kiss you softly. it’s his way of returning the sentiment, and you preen under his affection.

but then you pull away with a frown. “wait a minute.” laying a finger against his chest, you tilt your head toward tomás. “where have you been all day? this set-up couldn’t have taken more than half an hour.”

javi cringes and glances at his son. he rubs a hand across the back of his beck. “yeah, about that...”

tomás appears from his place plugging in the outdoor extension chords. “daddy took me to the shooting range!”

gaping, you sputter to form a coherent sentence. “you what?!”

“tomás,” javi whispers, swiping his palm over his son’s hair. “you weren’t supposed to say anything.” he looks up through his lashes with a wry smile. “we did—yeah, we did go to the range for a bit.”

“oh, javier peña, you are so lucky i love you.”

javi grins, captures your chin between his fingers, and kisses you again. “yeah, i am.”

***

taglist: @insideafictionaluniverse​ @ladytrashbird​ @generaldamneron​

[someone1348]

This is for my lovely best friend who was kind enough to write me a fic! Here's yours! @sleepy--anon i hope you enjoy!

People in this: Ler!Sapnap, Lee!Quackity

(Karlnapity romance so if you dont like that dont read it!)

Tw: like the smallest bit of angst (jealousy) pretty much! Thats it though it's soft! For the most part! And mild cursing!

Plot: While Karl is out on a "business trip" (time travel stuff) he leaves his other two husband's alone and well lets just say it was an eventful evening to say the least

With all that being said enjoyyyy :]

___________~☆°♡°☆°♡°☆~______________

Jealousy

Tickle fights and Tickling in general was almost an everyday occurrence in the Karlnapity household. It pretty much was second nature to the three.

With that comes ler moods and lee moods poping up left and right. Typically between the three Sapnap was ler the most, followed by Quackity with Karl most of the time being lee, nothing bad of course, they loved the dynamic of everything from this specific thing to how their relationship worked. They were happy and that's all that mattered.

The days went on as they normally do.

"EE! SAHahap! StahAhap!" Karl would twist around from Sap's evil fingers pushing at the boy's hands, giggling freely as quackity watched smiling a bit as his two husband's went on to do what they do.

It was always like this for the most part. While he was getting a snack,

"No pLEase!! Hehe" Karl's beautiful laugh could be heard from the other room.

While cuddling, sap would run his fingers over the time traveler's stomach sending sweet giggles to flow out of their husband's mouth.

Even in the store one time Sapnap poked at Karl's sides. Of course Quackity would join in sometimes to tickle his favorite lee (leaning) fiancé, but he was jealous, beyond jealous.

Seeing this everyday not only built up on his lee moods but he just wanted to be involved, not just in tickles but in the relationship. He wants cuddles and attention and affection from the two people he loves most.

And yeah with the lee moods he has bad but it's not the same. He wants his husband's and so help me thats what he was gonna get. He was a man on a mission.

'Let's goooo!!' He thought in his head as he started the day.

Karl had left last night, the bed was alot colder now. He turned to see Sap curled up onto his side his mouth slightly a-jar with his hair flowing perfectly on top of his face.

He sighed happily lightly pushing some of the hair out of his face. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this happy and in love.

'I'm gonna make him breakfast' He thought getting up carefully as to not wake him and got started on cooking up his favorites.

Not even 20 minutes later the firey boy poked his head into the kitchen

"Waffles?"

"Mhm"

"Mmmm yay! Thank you babe!"

Quackity smiled "Anytime"

After the two finished the scilence became loud.

"What do you wanna do?" Quackity asked rocking a bit back and fouth on his heels trying not to make the scilence anymore awkward.

"I got work to do so you entertain yourself, I'll be quick"

Quackity nodded "okay! Good luck!"

"Thanks" Sap said shooting him a smile leaving back to their shared room to do the said work.

The beanie boy sighed flopping down onto the couch. He flipped on a random channel and texted Karl.

'Hey Baby!! I hope your trip is going good,we miss you and can't wait to see you tomorrow!<3'

(10:35)

He held the phone close to his chest letting out another sigh. He knew in his heart that Sapnap was gonna be busy all day so instead of sulking he told him he was going for a walk.

He went walking around, coming back, making more food, playing video games. All while sap typed away at the keyboard.

It wasn't helping at all it only increased the feeling of wanting to be with his Sapnap, his fiancé, he wanted attention and love dammit!

The smaller boy marched up to their room.

"SAPNAP!!!"

the bandana wearing man shook and snaped up to look at his clearly ticked off tiny lover.

"WOAH! what!?! Yes?!" He said furrowing his eyebrows.

"Are you done yet?"

The other slowly blinked "uhhhh,," he looked back at his work "nope not yet"

"Too bad! You are now finished because i say so!" He crossed his arm's

"Ha! Yeah thats cute hun but im busy, i gotta get this done, im sorry, I'll be there soon"

Quackity scoffed "whatever" he left as sapnap sighed

'He's never like this, maybe i should stop and check on him' Sapnap thought closing his laptop quietly sneaking up on his amazing fiancé on the couch.

"HIYA!" he tackled him to the couch holding him close.

"WA!- SHIT!" he fell over with him now in a cuddly trap, smiling widely giggling a bit.

"What's wrong Quacky babe" Sap said concerningly putting his head to his adorable smol husband's shoulder.

"I wanted to hang out together,,, i want to be involved, i want attention and affection and love sapnap and i haven't gotten anyyy in a long time" Quackity spilled out as sap processed everything.

'Looking back i see where he's coming from, it's been alot of Karl-'

"Don't get me wrong i love karl and i love giving him attention and affection and everything and i love watching you two be that way with each other i just i guess i felt a bit left out"

Sapnap nodded,

"Im Sorwy baps, forgive me?" He used his small voice making quackity cringe a bit jokingly.

"Give me attention and we will see what happens" He smirked

"Hmmmm" He anticipated his moves and ideas watching quackity's eyes that were pointed right to his hands

'So that's what he wants' he smirked wider lightly running his fingers slowly up and down his sides.

The other on top of him tensed "s-sap"

"Yea babe?" He said as if he wasn't tracing the man's sides with tickly anticipation.

"W-what are you doing?"

"Giving you attention, isn't that what you wanted?" He smiled at him as Quackity sank into Sapnap's embrace leaning his head on the pillow behind them, Sapnap's head still on his shoulder.

Sap lowly giggled quickly stittering his hands his stomach then back to his sides watching him lift up and squeak.

"You're such a dick" Qauckalee said in a joking matter making Sapnap's smirk deepen.

"Oh im a dick?!" He digged into his stomach watching as quackity squealed digged his heels to the end of the couch.

"NAHAHAHAHA! SAHAHAPNAHAP!"

"Thats my name love~" sap moved closer towards his bellybutton.

"AYEHE NOT THERE!"

"Yes there! The giggle button has been unpressed for wayy to long, i need it to make up for the lost times Quackity"

"NOOHONONONO- AH! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA GEHHEHEHE! GOHOHO-EEP!"

Sapnap giggled with him taking in every werid noise and laugh that the touch starved lee had made.

Seeing it was clear he wasn't used to it he slowed down moving back to his sides lightly to get his breathing steady again.

"Easy tiger, i got you" he reassured him getting his breathing together

"Im gonna getcha'!" Sapnap said moving up towards his ribs scribbling along up and down and In-between.

The smaller's back arched as his giggles mixed into light laughter.

"AyEehehe naha-Ha! Tickles!! It tickles!!" The man rang out trying to squirm out of his fiancé's tickle trap.

"Thats the point Quacker's im hungryyyy i need your giggles to surviveee" he lightly blew a raspberry onto his neck, the other scrunching up

"Nomnomnom" he made fake eating sounds, playing pretend before blowing another raspberry into his neck.

Sapnap giggled and stopped holding him close rubbing circles into the top of his hand

"Come here bubba" He lifted Quackity up letting him wrap around him while he got a blanket.

Sitting back down he put the blanket overtop of them throwing on the Disney movie Coco for some well deserved aftercare and fiancé time, Playing with his hair Sapnap smiled down at his man kissing the top of his head.

"We gotta get you a haircut buddy its so long" he teased as quackity laughed

"I'll get a haircut the day you shave" the tired one teased back both laughing together enjoying the moment, the beanie boy slowly falling asleep on his chest.

"Goodnight handsome" he placed another kiss to the top of his head.

*Ding!*

Quackity's phone went off, Sapnap looked, it was Karl.

'Hi bubby!! It's going lmao, i miss you both so much too! I'll be home soon i promise! And when i do get home It's cuddle time! Hehe I'll talk to you soon quack baby! Tell sap i said hi and that i love him too! *mwah!*'

(8:17)

Sapnap smiled and put the phone back down to the side of him, smiling at the boy in his arms.

'Homework can wait'

_________________________________________

I absolutely LOVED writing this! I love Karlnapity! I hope you all enjoyedd! :]

[hotpinkhoshi]

let me (m) | park chanyeol

pairing: park chanyeol x f! reader

genre: little angst, fluff, smut

word count: 2.5k

summary: after a rough day in the studio, chanyeol knows a surefire way to make himself feel better. 

a/n: umm hi everybody! i know this may not be what you’re used to or what you expected if you haven’t been following my blog. i’ve been captured by park chanyeol, and i’m still coming to terms with it but i desperately wanted to try to write a cute fluffy drabble for him. it ended up at 2.5k and a little smutty. also, i haven’t been writing as much as i’d like to lately, so... forgive me if you can tell that i’m a bit rusty!

You first noticed something was off when Chanyeol was quiet entering your shared apartment. Normally, he’d be calling out for you or for Toben, or perhaps singing softly to himself. More often than not, he was in an exceptional mood when he got off work and finally came home to you. 

But today was different. Chanyeol simply walked through the front door and locked it behind him, setting his keys onto the wooden table set up in the entryway. You stood in the kitchen, halfway done chopping up the veggies you needed for tonight’s dinner. Toben was curled under the kitchen table, more than happy to be left on his own with his favorite stuffed toy. 

“Yeol? Is that you?” you called, after noticing that he didn’t greet you as normal. 

“It’s me,” came his reply, his tone low and without inflection. 

You listened as his slippered steps carried through the apartment into the kitchen, setting your knife down and wiping your hands on a towel. When you turned to look at Chanyeol, you could read it all over his face. 

Chanyeol didn’t often have bad days. He had long days, tiring days that drained his energy near his breaking point, but he rarely had days that had his mouth fixed into a frown and a crease settling deep between his brows. Today seemed to be one of those days. 

“Oh, babe,” you said, your own mouth turning down into a sympathetic pout. “What happened?”

Something about the way he looked, ears sticking out from under his beanie, enormous hoodie draped over half his body, and his pink house slippers just made you want to melt into a puddle. The pathetic, yet adorable expression was just the cherry on top. 

“Mmph,” he grunted, closing the distance between your bodies to wrap his arms around your waist. He ducked down, burying his head into your neck. “Don’t wanna talk about it,” he mumbled as you circled your arms around his torso. 

The whine in his voice let you know that whatever had him so pouty was nothing serious. More than likely, it was a particularly difficult day in the studio, one of those sessions where nothing seemed to come out right.

You stood there for as long as he needed you to, letting his warmth envelop you completely. Bit by bit, you felt some of the tension leave his body. No words were needed as he relished in the comfort that your presence brought him. 

“Baby,” he finally said, pressing a sweet kiss to your neck. “Can dinner wait? Kinda just want to cuddle with you for a while.” 

Years into your relationship, and he could still make your heart swell as if you were still in the midst of falling in love. Even something as simple as a kiss, expertly placed right at your sweet spot, was enough to have your pulse racing. 

“Of course,” you answered, arms sliding around to his front so you could clasp his hands in yours. Once he’d pulled away enough for you to see his face, you leaned up on your tip toes to place a kiss to the freckle on his nose. 

You let Chanyeol lead you back to the bedroom where he didn’t bother flipping the light switch, just tugged you to the bed. After he flopped onto his stomach, you stifled a giggle and climbed in after him, snuggling up to his side. 

In the process of maneuvering into the desired cuddling position, Chanyeol’s beanie slipped off to reveal his wildly messy hair, making him look all the more kissable. Especially with that little pout and puppy dog eyes he was giving you. 

“How was your day?” he asked softly. He had scooted down the bed, his face resting against your stomach as his arms looped around your waist. 

You shrugged and rested your hands on his broad shoulders. “It was good. Missed you, though,” you told him honestly. 

Chanyeol chuckled, his breath tickling your stomach where your shirt had ridden up. “I always miss you.” 

“Yeah?” you asked. 

“Mm. Can you play with my hair?” 

Your lips quirked into a smile as you slipped a hand up the nape of his neck into the soft waves of his hair. The man might have been a head taller than you and be able to pick you up as if you weighed nothing, but he had no shame asking for you to rub his back or play with his hair when he couldn’t sleep, or needed some extra comfort. 

“Is everything okay?” you whispered. 

Chanyeol hummed, eyes still closed, and you felt his shoulders shrug. “Just wasn’t a good day. Thought I could finish the song today but I just couldn’t get it right.” 

You could hear the disappointment in his voice, directed at himself alone. He was hard on himself when his creativity didn’t cooperate with his plans, and you absolutely understood. In his industry, he was constantly working towards a deadline no matter how inspired or drained he was feeling. 

“I’m sorry baby.” You slid your fingers through his hair, petting the back of his head softly. Chanyeol brought you closer and nuzzled into your tummy, his eyelashes tickling your skin. 

“S’okay,” he whispered. 

A few minutes of silence passed between the two of you, just enjoying each other’s company in the quiet of the home that you shared together. Your eyes fell shut after a while, though your fingers continued to card through Chanyeol’s hair. 

Just as you were nearly drifting off, you barely registered the feeling of his body shifting, ever so slightly. Then he was pushing your shirt up, revealing a larger expanse of your torso. 

Goosebumps formed as Chanyeol pressed his lips against your skin, soft and featherlight. You shivered, your eyes fluttering open. 

“Yeol.”

“Yeah?” 

“What’cha doing?” 

You felt him smile mid-kiss. “Mm, I’m just cuddling.”

Running your tongue over your teeth, you stifled a gasp when his touch traveled lower, dangerously close to the waistband of your leggings. 

“Baby,” you whispered, lifting your head to stare down at him. 

You were met with a mischievous stare, that glint in his eye telling you everything you needed to know. Maybe he’d had a bad day, but Chanyeol was a man that knew what he wanted. There was usually little to no room for persuading him otherwise. 

“What? You don’t like it?” 

A kiss under your bellybutton had you swallowing instead of answering at first, the movement of your fingers in his hair coming to a halt. 

“Oh, no, I do. I just… didn’t think you’d be in the mood. For this.” 

Chanyeol only hummed and shook his head, dragging his lips down even lower. His arms untangled from under your body, big hands traveling along your sides, warming you up with his touch. 

“Can I?”

His voice was quiet, a seemingly innocent question. If you had answered no, that you simply weren’t in the mood or you were too tired, you knew he would back off. But for him, the answer was always yes. 

At first, you’d been embarrassed how quickly he could have you spreading for him, folds dripping with arousal and voice begging for him to touch you. But Chanyeol had quickly shown that you had no reason to be bashful around him. 

“Mhm,” you replied, hips lifting as your leggings were peeled from your legs. “But I wanna make you feel better.”

Chanyeol looked up at you then, his big eyes twinkling with stars and the sweetest smile on his lips. “Trust me, this will make me feel better.” 

His smile was so contagious that you found yourself laughing softly, fingers trailing down to the tips of his ears. You squeezed the cartilage playfully and wiggled your hips as warmth traveled through your entire body. 

As always, Chanyeol took his time. He liked to build you up, make you quiver for him and beg, before finally diving in and giving you what you wanted. It drove you insane in the most glorious way. 

You got comfy, enjoying the gentle kisses he was peppering onto your stomach and hips, his hands gripping your sides to hold you in place. At this point, he knew your body and the way you liked to be handled. He knew you loved when he put his hands on you and handled you however he pleased. 

“Legs up,” he whispered, at the same time he scooted down the bed until his head was between your thighs. 

You obeyed, lifting each of your legs to hook them over his shoulders. When Chanyeol went down on you, he liked to press as close to you as he could, have your thighs pressing so tightly into his face that you could feel each clench of his jaw. And you couldn’t complain. 

“My pretty girl,” Chanyeol muttered, as if to himself, as he leaned in to kiss your thighs. 

“Do you have to tease?” you asked, huffing softly and jerking your hips. Just ten minutes ago, you hadn’t been in the mood in the slightest, and now he had you squirming and praying for him to get on with it. 

Chanyeol chuckled, the deep tone sending tingles down to your fingertips. “I just wanna enjoy you. Is that okay?” 

It was a sweet sentiment, but you knew him well enough to know that it was mostly because he wanted to drive you crazy. “I guess.” 

For a few more minutes, Chanyeol dragged it out, though you were grateful when he pulled back briefly to remove your underwear. His kisses got closer and closer to the place you needed him most and you found yourself breathing heavier, pulse racing with anticipation. 

“Baby,” you started to whine, just as Chanyeol flattened his tongue to lick a stripe up your center. You gasped, then groaned, fingers digging back into his hair to squeeze tightly. 

The act encouraged him. He delved in and got to work, latching his mouth around your clit while flicking his tongue back and forth at a quick, practiced pace. You were loud, now, your moans and whimpers echoing throughout the apartment. 

Chanyeol alternated between sucking and licking your clit, all while he held your thighs around his shoulders, his fingers digging into your flesh to keep you in place.

“Right there, oh-” you whined. “Feels so good, Yeol, you’re so good…” 

Maybe this was why he had been so adamant about tending to you, rather than letting you take care of him. As much as you wanted to get on your knees for him and cheer him up, you knew he needed this. He needed to be reminded that he was a man, capable of anything, including making you come with just his mouth. 

Words were tumbling from your lips, praises of his mouth and his tongue, the way he was making you feel, and how much you loved him. It seemed the more you egged him on, the faster he went, the more determined he was to send you towards your peak. 

You lifted your head and stared down at him because you loved to watch, and you were not disappointed. Chanyeol’s face was buried between your thighs but his eyes, they were open, staring back up at you. 

“That’s it baby, fuck. You’re the best. Right there, yeah,” you whispered, gulping as you drew your bottom lip between your teeth. 

There was determination in his eyes, a dangerous and exhilarating stare that you had come to know very well. You could feel the pressure building and the heat practically radiating off your skin the closer you got to the edge. 

You started to squirm, both trying to draw yourself closer and further from the overwhelming pleasure at the same time. Chanyeol didn’t miss a beat, tightening his arms around your thighs and shoving his face deeper into your heat. 

“I’m g-” you stuttered, fingers clawing at his hair, the hood of his sweatshirt, his sleeve, until both hands found the back of his head and gripped it firmly. “I’m gonna-” 

Chanyeol hummed against you, the deep vibrations like a shockwave straight through your entire body. The tension snapped and you cried out, nearly sobbing from the euphoria he’d given you in such a short time. 

Your body jerked with each wave of pleasure, back arching off the bed and hips wriggling despite how hard he was holding onto your flesh. His mouth never stopped licking and sucking, creating obscene noises that only made your orgasm more intense. 

When it all became too much, you found yourself bending away from him, pushing at his head to avoid overstimulation. There was a time and place for that, and to be honest, he didn’t have the stamina for it today. 

So he just kissed your skin, gently stroking your thighs and kissing over your stomach as you came down from your high. Your chest heaved with deep breaths and when you opened your eyes, you found they had been clamped shut so tightly there were stars in your vision at first. 

Once he was hovering over you, you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him down for a kiss. You tasted yourself and smiled, not ashamed to enjoy it. When you pulled away, Chanyeol tucked his face into your neck just as he had earlier, though this time he felt a thousand times lighter. 

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he whispered with a gentle kiss under your ear. 

“No, thank you,” you replied with a laugh, ruffling your hand through his hair. 

Chanyeol chuckled into your neck before he flopped back over onto his back, a blissful smile on his face as he stared up at the ceiling. 

“At least I know I can be the best at something today,” he confessed, glancing over at you with a smirk. “Just call me the pussy eating champion.” 

“Oh, shut up,” you told him, though you found yourself giggling while you dressed your bottom half.

You turned over once you’d pulled your leggings on, settling onto your stomach so that you could prop yourself onto your elbows. There was an obvious tent in his joggers, proving to you that eating you out was just as pleasurable for him as it was for you. 

But when you reached out for his belt buckle, Chanyeol opened his eyes. “As much as I would love that, I’m starving.” 

“You’d rather eat than have me suck you off?” you asked, eyebrows high on your forehead. 

Chanyeol just shrugged and climbed off the bed, reaching for your hands. When he pulled you to stand, his eyes were full of the kind of adoration that could only exist between two people that were truly, deeply in love. 

“Later.” 

The rest of the evening you spent in the kitchen, finishing dinner as a team and eating on the couch while you found something mind numbing to play on the TV. You didn’t end up returning the favor, but neither of you seemed to care too much as you dozed off together on the couch, limbs and hearts intwined. 

[thebigpalooka]

you’re not my dad (redemption arc)

I was gonna tack this onto @humanityinahandbag​‘s post but I’m not good with computers so I’m just posting this on its own, but to be clear, this is a follow-up to her amazing wonderful-awful half-drabble right here because I recognize my complicity in this crime.  However, when I offered to ruin her day, I was VERY CLEAR that when I lay my hand on something, everything turns out okay in the end.

So, for my own personal little version, read on.

Funny how, in spite of it all, it never occurred to him to do anything but go up to his room.  How after everything he’d shouted, he obeyed without a word because if he opened his mouth again now -

“I can’t believe you’re making such a big deal out of this, you’re always telling me what to do all the time!”

“Yeah, well, that’s my job, dude!”

“No it’s not!”

“Uh, it kind of *is*, and you better make it *your* job to start listening.”

“You’re not -”

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to remember that part.  He’d never seen Tom look like that, didn’t know what it meant, exactly, only that it was bad. And Tom was an adult; he shouldn’t have been able to make him look that way, had wielded a power he didn’t even know he had, and it felt just as damaging as the last time he’d exploded.

He moved to sit on the bed, then on the floor, then finally ended up in the beanbag, curled almost into an actual ball.  He couldn’t visualize, in that moment, all those trips it had taken to bring his things up here from the woods, couldn’t see Maddie smoothing out the comforter they’d picked out, couldn’t see Tom balanced on the ladder as he tacked up christmas lights.  He only remembered that the bean bag was his, so he didn’t have to feel guilty there.  

He felt guilty anyway; it oozed up from the inside and pooled in his gut when he heard footsteps on the attic stairs.

When both of them topped the steps, he knew it was real, real bad.  He clenched his fists, and as they eased to sit down on the floor in front of him, he sat up straight, panic spilling his thoughts out into words as fast as they formed.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?  I’m really sorry.  I don’t know why I said it, but it didn’t mean anything, so I’m sorry.  And we can forget about it, right?  I can follow the rules, and we don’t have to talk about it, okay?”

“Sonic….”

“I just don’t see why it has to be a big deal!”  He darted a look up at them before focusing on picking at a piece of duct tape he’d stuck over a tear in the bean bag.  “People say dumb things all the time, and I won’t do it again, so -”

“Bud, this is serious,” Tom interrupted again, a little more firmly.  

He squeezed his eyes shut.  “...I know, but - look, I’ll make it my job to start listening, just like you said, so - so -”

“Hey.”  A warm hand landed on his shoulder and his eyes flashed open, bright electric blue.  Terrified.  

Tom looked scared too.

“Honey, calm down.”  Maddie’s voice seemed close and distant all at once.  “Take a breath.  Slowly, okay?”  She smiled faintly.  “I know that’s kind of not your thing, but….”  They waited until he snorted an awkward breath and huffed it out again.  “There you go.”  

“Sonic, I’m not talking about what you said when you were mad.  I’m talking about what you said in the garage.”

His reeling thoughts locked up.  The garage?  The garage?  What had he said in the garage?  Then he remembered, and he felt hot and icy all over.

Are you gonna make…

Please just…

Don’t make me go, okay?

They waited a second before Tom spoke again.  “Is that….”  His voice was husky.  He cleared his throat.  “...is that something you’ve been thinking about?  About us send - sending you away?”  His voice cracked again and he winced.  Maybe all three of them did, hearing it out loud.

“No,” Sonic lied.  Didn’t know why.  “...I mean, sometimes, maybe.  I dunno.”  A shrug, like it was the most natural thing in the world.  It was, right?

Tom and Maddie exchanged a look.  God, god, god, they’d thought about it too.  He clenched his fists again, and they trembled with the strain of sitting still.  He could’ve been up and out the skylight and into the woods in a second flat.  Heck, he could grab a few things on the way out.

“How long have you been worrying about that?” Maddie asked.  Her voice was so gentle that he had to swallow back the lump in his throat before he did something embarrassing, like cry.  He shrugged.

“I’m - pft, I’m not worried about it.”  Another lie.  He smiled a smile that felt as tight as a strained rubber band.  “I’m just… I’m….”  He clunked his shoes together.  The words came out like a fast train.  “....I like it here and it’s really cool, and I’m really glad you guys let me live here, so I wanna be a good - you know.”  

But he didn’t know.

Tom ran a hand over his hair, letting out a long breath.  Maddie rubbed his arm and Sonic felt vaguely jealous.

“I’m sorry.”  A muscle tightened in Tom’s jaw.  “...I’m really sorry, buddy.”

Sonic stared.  “...For what?” he almost whispered. 

Here it comes.

“I sh….”  He stopped.  Maddie’s hand had paused on his arm; she moved it to stroke his shoulder.  He cleared his throat again and for a second, Sonic had the sudden and bizarre sensation like Tom was gonna cry, himself.  Until that moment, it had never occurred to him such a thing was even possible.  When he spoke again, his voice sounded almost normal, but the awareness remained.  “...I should’ve made sure you never had to worry about that.  I messed up.  And I hope you can forgive me.”

For once, he was speechless.  Tom shifted forward, settling a hand on each shoulder.  The touch made his chest tighten again.  “Sonic.  No matter what happens, no matter how mad somebody gets or what anybody says, nobody is ever - ever gonna send you away.”

“This is your home, sweetheart.”  Maddie squinted, reading his gaze to make sure he was listening.  “It’s our home.  All of us.”  She found one of his hands, resting limply against his knee, and squeezed it in her own.

“We may not understand all of it yet, exactly.  But we’re a family.”  Tom lifted his brows, paused to let the word fill up the silence.   “Ozzie and me and Maddie and you.”

“Oh.”

He felt dizzy.  Lightheaded.  He felt like he was gonna puke.  He felt too embarrassed to go on living.  He felt like a stone statue and he felt like he was going to fly apart into a million pieces.  It felt like a gazillion pounds of lead had just poured out of his shoes.  Like his head was gonna pop off on a spring like a jack-in-the-box.

“...Y-yeah, I know that,” he lied once more, slowly this time.  “I know that.  We’re … we’re like a family.”

“We’re not like a family.  This is our family.”  Maddie swung his hand back and forth a little.  “Sometimes a family is - you know - a pretzel lady, a donut lord and a blue blur.  Right?”

“Makes sense to me.”  Tom studied him.  “...Make sense to you?”

The hand that wasn’t closed in Maddie’s was closed in Tom’s.  He didn’t remember when that had happened, but he was clasping it so tight that he could feel his knuckles straining against his glove.

“Yeah.  Of course.  Sure.”  It wasn’t a lie this time.  He still felt like crying, though.  He shifted away and they let him do it, releasing his hands. He tucked them around his legs again.  “That’s cool.  I’m - yeah.  I mean that’s awesome.  Of course we’re - we’re a family.  That’s - you guys are  - I mean, we’re the best family.”

“Good.  We think so too.  So that means we’re sticking together.  Even if we have arguments or something crazy happens.”

“Crazy?  In this family? Pfft.  Not likely.”  Tom grinned.  Sonic knew it was his benefit, and smiled back, or came the closest he could when his stomach was still turning flip-flops.  Maddie smiled too.

“We’re a team.  No matter what.”

“Yeah.  Okay.  Cool.”  He looked at his shoes.  “...Thanks, you guys.”  

There was an awkward pause.

Maddie understood before either of the boys did.  She let out a breath.  “Well.  I better go check on Ozzie - I bet he’s gonna want outside.  Then we can decide what we wanna make for dinner, okay?”

“Y-yeah, sure.  Sounds great.”  Sonic froze as she bent and kissed his forehead.  Made him feel warm and squirmy all over, but he was glad.  She brushed her fingers against his ear with a smile and then rose to retreat quickly down the stairs.  Even then, Sonic didn’t quite know if she’d understood how hard it was to talk in front of just one person, let alone two, but as Tom rose, looking faintly confused, and began to follow her, Sonic managed to work up enough nerve.  He jumped to his feet.

“H-hey, donut lord... about… about that other thing I said….”  

Tom stopped.  Sonic waited for him to say something, but he didn’t.  He swallowed.  “...I really am sorry.  I didn’t mean it.”

Tom nodded.  “It’s okay.  Everybody says things they don’t mean when they get mad,” he murmured.  

Sonic squirmed.  “Yeah, I know, but - I … I really...really didn’t mean it.  Um.”  He squeezed a pop out of one knuckle.  “It’s just that, if it wasn’t for you, I’d be puking up mushrooms full time by now and … a-and besides that, you’re pretty much the coolest person I know, and I have an extremely developed instinct for coolness, it’s kind of like a sixth sense, really-”

Tom’s face twisted with amusement and emotion at odds with one another.  “Sonic....”

Sonic shook his head, letting his hands talk in a bigger and bigger arc.  “A-and it doesn’t really matter what it is, because we know what it is, don’t we?  It’s just our thing, our cool guy thing, that’s all, but I just don’t wanna let you down.  Okay?  Look, all I’m saying is, you’re my favorite person.  And not in a weird way, it’s totally, totally cool -”

“Sonic.”  Tom dropped to one knee so that they were eye-to-eye.  His smile was humiliating.  And great.  “...I feel the same way.  I love you, bud.”

Strong arms drew him in and hugged him.  For a second, he was scared he’d blow up the whole house.  But that didn’t happen, and so instead, he shut his eyes tight and stretched his arms as far as they’d go and held on tight.  And he mumbled it back, whispered it into Tom’s shirt because he couldn’t say it any louder, but they were so close, it was perfectly, perfectly clear.

[itsclydebitches]

Alot of issues with RWBY stem from the massive shift from the light hearted comedic setting of Beacon to the darker save the world adventure v4 onward. It was a mistake to do this. They should've stuck with the Beacon setting with a monster of the week type scenario. Localised events with the occasional offsite assignment. Perhaps a gradual build up to the big bad if they wanted to keep Salem around. Chibi proves that MK were better writers with this short term style and not what they went with.

Yeah, the episodic vs. serialized nature is definitely a big part of the problem. The crew flourishes with individual, loosely connected stories, but struggles - if not outright fails - to maintain a nuanced tale where what's introduced is meant to pay off later... yet doesn't. The messy, but enjoyable collection of leadership woes/dance/train fight/tournament/etc. of the early volumes worked in a way that the heavier content - "Oscar has been tortured. We're going to deal with that right? Oh, we're not? Wait, where did this cane nuke come from??" does not. RWBY's move into darker material demands both a more sensitive approach and a focus on consistency that they never needed in the beginning of the show (actually no, that's not true, they should have had it given aspects like the racism subplot, but audiences are more forgiving if that style lacks nuance) and when they tried to figure it out along the way, we, at least, have been less than pleased with the results.

I've never thought there was anything inherently wrong with RWBY becoming darker. It's a very common choice for long-running franchises, both to give the writers more material and, perhaps more importantly, to allow the show to grow along with its original audience. Those who started RWBY when they were, say, 16 are 24 now. Obviously 24yos can enjoy a silly boarding school story as much as the 16yo, but there is something to be said for the approach of, "We've nearing a decade of material and the fans who started with us, no matter their age, are now 8 years older too. Let's give them something they'll appreciate." From children/YA franchises that get incredibly dark by the final book, to television shows with fluffy first seasons ending in tragedy years later, this is a well known phenomenon, so I can hardly blame RT for trying to cache in on it - whether they were consciously doing so or not. Hell, I don't even think them failing at a grittier, more uniform story is at the heart of the issue because there are plenty of stories where I go, "This is so bad" and still go about enjoying it for other reasons. Rather, I think the core problem lies in RWBY trying to do both, simultaneously. It's easy to miss with all the torture, lost limbs, and bomb threats lately, but RWBY isn't actually a show that operates on a gray-worldview. Half the time the show is going, "The world is hard, dangerous, uncaring, and cruel. People are not trustworthy and their betrayal has far-reaching consequences. Even the best have to get down and dirty at times. This isn't a fairy tale." But then the other half of the time it's going, "The world is a wonderful place with no real, systematic problems. Only people who don't trust you are untrustworthy, because people are inherently good, and even the most vile deserve instant forgiveness. The heroes are likewise good and pure, saving the world through the power of Trusting Love, not the down and dirty tricks of those other folk. It's the classic fairy tale of Good vs. Evil." We're flip flopping every arc, every episode at this point. It's not even a matter of following Team RWBY's biased point of view because they're just as inconsistent as the larger messages; no single character maintaining their position, no matter how hypocritical (like Yang). RWBY is trying to be that gritty, gray tale while also being that pure, hopeful tale and the clash - to me, anyway - is what's truly frustrating. A show that tried something new and failed is one thing, a show that can't decide what it wants to be, punishing the viewer on both sides for buying into the opposite worldview, is something else entirely.

[dcbutinamrev]

Burn (Historical Lams)

BURN

*This is based off when Hamilton found out about Laurens’s wife two after they’ve been together. One of my favorite Hamilton anecdotes. So, here. Have this random, ridiculously long angsty, hurt/comfort oneshot. Again, I normally don’t write in third person, I usually write in 1st person POV, but I’m trying something different. Also, I love viewing Lafayette as a older brother figure to Alex*

*** 

Hamilton stares at the paper clutched tightly in his hands. His vision blurs as he scans the words over and over again, staring down at the words which are written in Laurens’s handwriting. His Laurens. He shakes his head, slowly trying to make sense of his readings, his violet-blue eyes flickering back and forth as he mouths the words over and over again. It can’t be true...it can’t be... 

Hamilton flops into his desk chair in his tent, feeling as though all the air has completely drained out of him. He blinks his eyes, in hopes that would stop the unshead tears from falling. His chin wobbles as he shakes his head, letting out a shaky breath, trying to control his emotions and to calm himself. 

He turns around in his chair so he’s fully facing his desk now, lighting a candle nearby. He rests the paper in front of him, feeling so many different emotions he can’t comprehend: confused, scared, hurt, betrayed. He lied to him. Laurens, his dear Laurens, had lied to him from the very moment they met, from the very moment they shared their first kiss, from the first intimacy they shared together. He lied to him. Hamilton exhales shakily, trying to make sense of it all as he runs his hands through his wavy, auburn hair that’s still pulled back into a loose ponytail, a dark blue ribbon securing it. 

He’s married... 

Laurens is married... 

This can’t be... Hamilton thinks as he stares down at the letter Laurens had written to his wife back in England, Martha Manning. He shakes his head as he feels something trickle down his freckled cheeks. He can’t be...

Hamilton bites his lip as he stares back down at the letter in front of him. Hamilton tugs at his wavy curls and frantically grabs a chest nearby. He growls frustratingly as a tear slips down his cheek. He unlocks the chest where he uses it to store their personal corrospondences. Their personal letters. He reads the letters Laurens had sent him while he was down in South Carolina for his Southern campagin. Reading words of hope, words of comfort, words of assurances, words of love. Hamilton swallows the lump of tears down his throat as he shifts through the cluster of letters in his hands. He glances at the candle before the letters and then back at the candle again. 

Hamilton sniffs as he tries so desperately to calm himself down. He has to remain strong, has to remain brave. He has to be the Little Lion. But he can’t. Hamilton reads one of Laurens’s letters which had been addressde to him again before he couldn’t hold it in any longer. 

He breaks. 

Hamilton finally lets the tears escape and roll down his freckled cheeks, his chin wobbles as he reads the letter addressed to Manning before glancing back at the letters in hands that were addressed to him. Hamilton tries to stifle a choked sob with the back of his hand, his eyes wide with disbelief, shock written all over his face, He shakes his head again as more tears escape, making it look like rivers on Hamilton’s cheeks. 

He’s married. He’s married. He’s married... God, a daughter! He has a daughter!

This cannot be...he can’t be married... Hamilton thinks to himself, reading Laurens’s letters again. He loves me. He told me he loves me and me only...I don’t understand...what did I do wrong? Why didn’t he tell me...? Oh, Jack... 

Hamilton is still trying to comprehend, when he hears his tent’s flap flipping open, making a whoosh sound as the intruder enters. 

“Alexander! Mon petit lion! The General would like to--” 

Marquis de Lafayette skids to a stop when sees Hamilton hunched over his desk, his shoulders heaving up and down as he bites back a sob. Lafayette frowns, his heart cracking immediately at the scene. He’s never seen Colonel Hamilton so broken before. Hesitantly, Lafayette bites his lip as he slowly approaches Hamilton, who he loves dearly like a brother. 

“Mon ami...?” Lafayette says as he comes closer to Hamilton and rests a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

Hamilton gasps, shooting upright, startled. But lets out a breath of relief when he sees it was just Lafayette. 

“Lafayette...you scared me!” Hamilton laughs dryly, sniffling as he wipes the oncoming tears off his cheek. He tries to smile reassuringly, though his lips still wobble. 

“Alexander...are you alright? What’s wrong, petit lion?” Lafayette says with a worried expression on his face. 

Hamilton expression falters as he glances back down at the letter to Manning and scowls. “Laurens...” 

Lafayette stares at Hamilton, shocked. “Laurens?” 

Hamilton nods. 

Lafayette scowls, his hand resting on top of Hamilton’s and he squeezes it. “What did he do? Did he hurt you? I swear, if he did I will blow him up in the trenches!” 

Hamilton scoffs out a laugh and shakes his head and frowns. “No...no, it’s not that. Well, it is John...but...it’s...complicated. I’m not sure you’d understand...” 

“Mon ami, I am your friend,” Lafayaette says, crouching down before Hamilton and patting his hand. “And I care for you. Both of you. Dearly. You are like a brother to me, Alexander. I’m worried, Alexander. What happened?” 

Hamilton sighs, swallowing before he sniffs again. “He...he lied to me...” 

Lafayette’s soft smile turns into a frown, his eyes burning. But he lets Hamilton finish. 

“He lied to me...about something that should have been communicated to me long ago...for two years...he...I don’t...I don’t understand, Lafayette...What did I do wrong...?” Hamilton whimpers, staring back at Laurens’s letters to him. 

“Alexander...” Lafayette says. Hamilton turns to him, raising an eyebrow. “I may not know what the hell is between you two. I know you both are close and I know he cares for you...just as I...but...I’m sure he had a reason. Perhaps he was...scared...” 

“Scared?” 

“Perhaps he didn’t know what you would think of him if he told you the truth. Or perhaps he was...perhaps he didn’t...” A pause. “Perhaps he didn’t want to lose you.” 

Silence. Hamilton frowns thoughtfully and glances back at the letters. He sniffs before turning back to Lafayette. Lafayette smiles softly and nods, patting his shoulder and squeezing it comfortingly before exiting the tent, the tent’s flap fluttering behind him. 

After a while of staring at the letters sprawled out before him, Hamilton stands from his desk, feeling much calmer now with Lafayette’s comforting words but still upset with Laurens. He grabs hold of the letter to Manning and scowl, growling low and deep. He clutches onto the letter as he paces back and forth in his tent, reading the words over and over again. He skids to a stop when he hears his tent being flapped open again. 

He stands in front of his desk, his back facing Lieutenant Colonel John Laurens, letter still in hand. Laurens frowns at the uneasiness in the tent, and shivers at the tension in the atmosphere. He swallows thickly when he sees his beautiful Hamilton before him, hunching over his desk. Laurens is suprised that Hamilton isn’t working, like he’d usually find him to be. Laurens bites his lip as he slowly approaches Hamilton. 

“Good evening, Laurens,” Hamilton says coldly, flatly. Without any emotion. Nor without turning to him. 

Laurens instantly skids to a stop halfway, knowing right there something’s amiss. Hamilton never greets him by his last name. 

“Alexander?” Laurens says cautiously, his sky-blue eyes narrowing as he takes off his tricorn hat and placing it on his cot in their shared tent. “What--” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Hamilton says flatly, his eyes shining with unshed tears. 

“What--” 

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a wife?!” Hamilton barks, whipping his head so quickly Laurens stumbles back, blinking. Totally off-guard. Hamilton scowls, waiting impatiently for a response. 

“W-What--” Laurens stutters.

Hamilton sniffs as he snatches the letter to Manning and shoves it in Laurens’s face. Hamilton’s eyes burns with so much hurt and betrayal it makes Laurens’s heart crack. 

“What the hell is this?!” Hamilton snaps, his cold tone sending shivers down Laurens’s spine. He shoves the letter into Laurens’s chest again. A tear finally escaping and rolling freely down his cheek. Hamilton’s shoves the letter at Laurens again. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me!”

“Alex—”

“A wife! A wife, John! A wife!” Hamilton wails, tears flooding in his eyes, chin wobbling. Laurens hangs his head down, guilt squeezing his chest. “A daughter! My God John! A daughter!”

“Alexander, please!” Laurens protests.

“You lied to me!” Hamilton cries. “You lied to me! For two years John! Two bloody years!”

Laurens doesn’t say anything. Just swallows and guilty glances down at his boots.

“Alexander, please. Just let me explain. I don’t love her. I never have. I love you and you only—”

Hamilton scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“I know. I know I don’t deserve you, Alex,” Laurens says. His voice calmer. “But just hear me out. And that would be enough.”

Laurens reaches to grab hold of Hamilton’s hand, but Hamilton yanks it back towards his chest. Laurens pinches his lips together and frowns as he lowers his hands. Hamilton avoids eye contact with Laurens, glancing over his shoulder and away from him. Laurens sighs and slowly walks up towards him. 

“Alexander...It’s...it’s complicated...but...I am hoping you could forgive me, though I know you will most likely not.” 

A pause. Laurens sighs as he plops himself on his cot, running a hand through his honey-blonde hair. Alexander still doesn’t look towards his direction.

“I was an idiot,” Laurens confesses. “I’ll agree with you on that. I was and an idiot. I was young and...I just...I had just...” 

“You’d just what?” Hamilton finsishes, his voice calmer as he finally meets Laurens’s gaze. 

“I’d just...well...a more recent term would be...” Laurens swallows, clearing his throat. “Let’s start over. I was young and at the time I was with someone named Francis Kinloch. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you about him before--” 

“You have...” Hamilton murmurs, flopping down at his desk chair, suddenly intrigued by Laurens’s story, though he’s still upset with Laurens. 

Laurens nods and clears his throat. “Right. Well...he and I had the...same...uh...closeness as you and I have and well...left me.” Laurens lets out a shaky breath. “I loved him. I did. But I wanted to go back down to South Carolina but...he wanted to stay in England and well...our views suddenly changed and became different and in a letter, he’d told me he’d better off stay in England. And I just couldn’t do that...so...I was drunk one day after I discovered about Kinloch...and... I couldn’t cope with the fact that...he has and will leave me forever.” A pause. “And I...I...saw Manning and figured she could help me overcome this thing inside me and well...” 

Laurens looks up at Hamilton, waiting for his response. But Hamilton says nothing. He stares directly into Laurens’s eyes with a blank look and his arms over his chest, waiting for Laurens to continue. Laurens sighs again. 

“I was foreced to marry her, Alexander,” Laurens continues. He stands up from the cot and walks over towards him, crouching down before him and grabbing hold of his hand. Hamilton doesn’t yank it back. “I had no other choice. I had to marry her to keep her honor and mine. I had to marry her, Alexander. But...but that does not change my love for you. I do hope you can forgive me...I never intended to hurt you nor for you to discover about it like this.” 

Hamilton looks down at Laurens before him. Laurens squeezes Hamilton’s before bringing it up towards his lips and presses a soft kiss to Hamilton’s knuckles. Hamilton smiles just a little as he watches Laurens fondly. Hamilton squeezes Laurens’s hand which causes Laurens to look up sharply. 

Laurens smiles when he sees Hamilton smiling softly. Hamilton sniffs as Laurens helps him to his feet. Hamilton tips his head back slightly to lock his eyes with Laurens as Laurens slides his hands down towards his hips while Hamilton rests his hands on Laurens’s chest, right underneath his cravat. Hamilton stares at the spot between his hands on Laurens’s chest, watching his chest rise and fall. 

Laurens smiles as he tucks a loose curl behind Hamilton’s ear. “I love you, Alexander. I love you, so much. I would give my life for you, just to see you happy, just to see you safe and unharmed. I am so sorry, my love. I never meant--” 

Hamilton suddenly smashes his lips onto Laurens’s, kissing him quiet. Laurens stands there, with his arms hovering around Hamilton’s waist, his eyes blown wide and he holds his breath, shoulders tensed up to his ears as Hamilton grabs him by the lapels to deepn the kiss. Eventually, Laurens’s eyes flutter close as he melts into the kiss, angling his face to capture Hamilton’s lips a little better before snaking his arms around Hamilton’s waist, pulling him closer so their chests are almost touching. 

After a few minutes, they unfortunately have to pull apart for a breath of air. Laurens grins idiotically as he rests his forehead against Hamilton’s, his nose nudging against Hamilton’s freckled cheek. Hamilton giggles as Laurens pecks his lips one last time. 

“I’m guessing I am forgiven?” Laurens asks with a laugh as he pulls back a little to look into Hamilton’s deep dark blue eyes, almost a shade of violet with the candle flickering between them. 

Hamilton giggles before he connects their lips again. Hamilton sighs as they pull apart, resting his head on Laurens’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. Hamilton closes his eyes and smiles. 

“You are, my love. You are.” 

[simplybakugou]

How can I love the heartbreak, you’re the one I love

↝ Years have passed since Bakugou met you and yet you’re all he ever thinks about. As he reconnects with you after all this time, he can’t help but reminisce on all the moments you spent with him, especially those suffocating and troubling days in the hospital in room 405.

SONG: How can i love the heartbreak, you’re the one i love by AKMU

⋆ PAIRING: bakugou x female!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: swearing; angst; hospitals ⋆ WORD COUNT: 14636

A/N: So I initially was going to make this a fic but that shit FLOPPED so i’m just breaking this into different sections. Also, I’ve spent WEEKS trying to write this so please let me know what you think! (plus this is the longest thing I’ve ever written omg). 

It’s based off of AKMU’s song. This song is so beautiful and the link to the song is here. I also decided to remake my short fic about terminally ill s/o from a while ago and incorporate that in as well. 

Also thank you @bnhabadass​ for your editing suggestions and especially thank you to @k-atsukidayo​. I love you Fey, and thank you again for giving me such amazing suggestions and making this so much better! 

Tagging: @freckledoriya​

✐posted 05.11.2020✐

❝I purposefully take a few steps back, I look at you walking without me

There is a void beside you upon the gray road you look back❞

The weather was perfect. The breeze was subtle but still strong enough to send chills down Bakugou’s spine as he closed the door to his home behind him. He moved to shove his hands in his pockets, having to put one arm up to shield his eyes from the sun glaring down at him. He sighed as he continued along the brick path, squinting down the road.

The path was crowded and filled with all kinds of people: parents walking with their kids, couples walking hand in hand, and dogs roaming around with their owners. They were all looking up at the same thing: the cherry blossoms. The wind was perfect in assisting the blossoms as the fallen flower petals danced rhythmically against the breeze. They travelled down the path, as if they were leading Bakugou to you.

A few kids in U.A.’s uniform began running down the path, running after the petals. Bakugou couldn’t help but move the corners of his lips upwards, reminiscing on a time that felt like centuries ago.

The time when you were always by his side.

~~~

Bakugou’s leg wouldn’t stop shaking vigorously. His arms were crossed over his chest as he constantly kept checking his watch. You were late…

“If this shitty girl doesn’t show up in the next five minutes I’m getting the fuck out of here,” he grumbled under his breath.

As if you were summoned by his pure rage, you pushed open the doors to the little cafe, scanning the tables to find a certain enraged blonde. After finally locating him, you bowed your head slightly, clapping your hands together. “Forgive me! I’m really sorry.”

Bakugou felt his brow twitch. “You better have a good fucking reason for making me wait. You were the one who wanted help with studying.”

You slung your bag onto the chair next to you, sitting yourself down beside it. You reached into your bag, pulling something out. Leaning on the table, you rested your elbows on the surface. “Have you been to the brick path near school?”

“What?”

“Give me your hand.”

“What the fuck are you trying to do?”

“Just give me your hand!”

Bakugou sighed, rolling his eyes as he complied, extending his hand out in front of him. You placed the item, covering it with your hand cupping over it. “Well, that brick path has all of these beautiful cherry blossom trees. And I was just looking at them ‘cause they finally bloomed and I thought of you!”

You lifted your hand, revealing a few blossoms that you had plucked. Bakugou felt his cheeks burn up, looking the other way to avoid your gaze. “Whatever. Why the fuck would you think of me while looking at some fucking flowers?”

You shrugged, smiling. “I dunno. You were the first thing that came to mind.”

Bakugou moved his hand over, letting the flowers fall onto the table. He opened his English textbook, flipping to the middle. “Let’s just get this over with. We’re in our final year now, there’s no time to fuck around.”

***

A few months had passed since that day that you and Bakugou were preparing for midterms. You kept spending a majority of your evenings with him, using the excuse of needing his intelligence and tutelage in order to pass your classes. He would never admit it, but he enjoyed your company no matter how annoying you could get sometimes. You were just always so joyous, like you could beat the sun’s rays with your own light.

Aizawa continued teaching the class as everyone diligently paid attention. Months ago, a time in which Bakugou hadn’t spent so much time by your side, he would’ve been able to pay attention as well. But here he was, his eyes glued to your empty desk. You had asked to go to the bathroom in the middle of class. An hour had passed and you were still gone.

Aizawa looked at the clock, noticing Bakugou’s busy eyes glued to your desk. He then realized how long you had been gone. “Ashido, go check on Y/N,” Aizawa said, his back to the class as he wrote something on the chalkboard.

Mina nodded, getting up and leaving the classroom. Minutes had passed and Mina hadn’t returned either. Bakugou felt his leg shake up and down as his anxiousness only grew. What the hell is happening?

Mina finally came back, a panicked look on her face. Aizawa recognized this, pulling her out in the hallway and closed the door so the class couldn’t eavesdrop on the conversation. 

“What’s that about?” Jirou asked from her seat beside Bakugou.

Kaminari shrugged from beside her. “I’m not sure but it doesn’t look good. Hopefully nothing bad happened to Y/N.”

The rest of class went painstakingly slow. Mina couldn’t focus for the remainder of class either, her eyes fixated on the clock. Everyone wanted to ask so many questions but refrained from doing so. Finally class had ended and Bakugou didn’t hesitate to approach Mina. Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero followed, crowding around Mina’s desk.

“What the fuck is going on?” Bakugou demanded.

“Yeah, is Y/N okay?” Kirishima asked.

Mina had her head down, hesitant as she began to speak. “I thought Y/N was just sick which was why she was taking such a long time. But when I went in, she collapsed on the floor. I think she hit her head when she fell, too, because there was blood--”

“Where is she now?” Bakugou interrupted.

“Recovery Girl transferred her to Meijo Hospital a few blocks down,” Mina responded.

Bakugou didn’t hesitate to run out of class, his feet moving faster than he could control as if they were moving on their own. He could faintly hear his friends calling out for him but he ignored them and managed to get out of the building as fast as he possibly could, his eyes locked onto the silhouette of the tall hospital building. 

He couldn’t understand why he felt something inside of him snap when he had heard that you were hurt. After all, you transferred to U.A. at the beginning of your final year. You were an outsider and you didn’t know if you would be able to assimilate into class A. But, fortunately for you, Mina was the first friend you made, inviting you to hang out with her friends often. Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero practically opened their arms to you when you first met them. But your eyes were always drawn to the sulky blonde headed boy with the permanent frown on his face. The day you met Bakugou, you made it your mission to pester him and get close to him. Initially, Bakugou had found you to be the most irritating person he had ever had to deal with. But as the time went by and you were practically always by his side to the point where your classmates thought you two were dating, he began to oddly enjoy your company.

Bakugou ignored the stares he got from bystanders as they stared at the kid in the U.A. uniform running towards the hospital. Once he did reach it, Bakugou went straight to the front desk. “Is (L/N) (F/N) here?”

“One second,” the receptionist said, looking through her files. “Yes, she’s in room 405.”

Bakugou immediately moved towards the elevators until he noticed the long line of people patiently waiting. He cursed under his breath, running towards the stairs. His feet moved as fast they could, skipping steps all the way up until the fourth floor. His eyes began roaming rapidly at the numerous rooms in the hallway, finally reaching 405. He slid open the door, panting as he attempted to catch his breath. His eyes widened at the sight before him.

You were sitting upright on the hospital bed, a bandage around your forehead. An IV drip was attached to your forearm. You flinched at the sudden sound of the door sliding open, turning your head to the source of the sound. Your face lit up at the sight of your closest friend visiting you, your lips turning upwards. “Katsuki.”

Bakugou sighed, finally able to catch his breath. He glared at you. “You fucking idiot. What the hell happened? Why’d you collapse?”

You smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. “It seems I overworked myself. My quirk takes a lot out of me, you know.”

Your quirk, Flame, was pretty simple, just being able to expel flames from your body. But with finals and graduation creeping around the corner not to mention that you had only transferred to U.A., you felt that you had pushed yourself to keep up with everyone around you. Ignoring your health was foolish but you wanted to become a pro hero even if it was the last thing you could do.

“But I promise that I’m fine. I promise that I’ll get better before you know it.” Bakugou rolled his eyes at your foolishness. You patted the cushion of the chair that was beside your bed. “Can you stay for a while and tell me what I missed in class, Katsuki?”

“How many fucking times do I have to tell you to stop calling me by my first name? You’re the only one who does that shit!” You snickered, ignoring his words. Bakugou sighed, complying anyways as he sat down. He dropped his book bag beside him and pulled out his notes and spent the rest of his visiting hours helping you as best as he could.

~~~

Bakugou smiled at the kids in their U.A. uniforms as the memory of the two of you in that hospital room replayed over and over in his mind. It was the start to a new budding romance and yet you were damned from the start.

If Bakugou could take it all back, he sometimes thinks that he would. The pain and suffering he had to endure once meeting you was a feeling he wouldn’t wish upon even his worst enemy. But everytime he thinks he would’ve been better off without meeting you, he knew he wasn’t fooling himself with such a lie. You were always on his mind ever since the day he met you back in U.A., like you had casted a spell on him since the beginning.

And after all these years had passed, you were still charming him. You’re still the only thing on his mind.

❝Just then, I realized that I can never leave your side

No matter the distance and the problems that we faced, it's easier to fight against than the thought of letting go

So, tell me now, how can I love the heartbreak when you’re the one I love

To give you up because of love or from the heartache and pain, oh my heart, that's something I can never do❞

As Bakugou walked down the brick road, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, answering the call and brought the device to his ear.

“What?”

“Hello to you, too,” Kirishima said with a laugh. “I was just calling ‘cause I don’t see you at the agency today. Kaminari, Sero, and I were coming by to see if you wanted to catch up after all this time. It has been two years since we’ve talked about our lives other than work, ya know.”

“I took the day off. I’m gonna spend it with Y/N.”

Kirishima paused for a moment and sighed. “After all these years, you’re still ditching us to see her.” His tone was light so Bakugou knew he was only teasing him. “I get it. It’s been years since you’ve seen her. We’ll catch up another time.”

“Thanks… for understanding.”

“Don’t mention it, man. Say hi to her for me.” As he hung up, Bakugou couldn’t help but feel a strange tug in his chest, as if there was a fire burning inside him. Everytime he thought about you, you always made him feel that way and the way you always “promised” to get better. Promise. That was your favorite word. You always made promises that you knew you couldn’t keep. Bakugou couldn’t help but reminisce on all the times you made such foolish lies. You were better off becoming an actress than being a hero, being too foolish to be a hero. A foolish hero that cared more about others than her own health.

~~~

“Don’t forget the food!” Mitsuki yelled from the kitchen as she pushed piles of bento wrapped in furoshiki into her son’s hands. “Oh! And she’s probably bored in there so I got her some magazines.” She opened up Bakugou’s bookbag and shoved the magazines inside.

Bakugou groaned. “You’re going overboard. She’s gonna think I’m fucking insane.”

Mitsuki flicked her son upside the head. “No, she’s gonna see how much you care for her. Now get out!”

She practically shoved her son outside, slamming the door shut. Bakugou grumbled under his breath holding the furoshiki in one hand and shoving his other hand in his pocket. The sun was beaming down on him and the cloth in his hand made his palm sweat. The several children playing around outside irritated Bakugou, especially when they started to stare at the now infamous class A hero in training. Nevertheless he ignored them, thankful that Meijo Hospital was so close to his house.

He entered the building, the nurses and receptionists greeting him as he was now a frequent visitor. They whispered amongst themselves, fascinated that among your classmates and friends, Bakugou was the only one who never failed to see you every single day, no matter how busy he was with finals and graduation.

Once the elevator reached the fourth floor, it was like second nature by now for Bakugou’s feet to take him to room 405. He slid the door open, surprised to see your bed empty. One of the nurses turned around as she was changing the sheets on your bed. “Oh, Bakugou. If you’re looking for Y/N, she’s on the roof.”

Bakugou was puzzled. “The roof? The hell is she doing up there?”

The nurse laughed at his reaction. “She wanted some fresh air. She’s been holed up in this room for months so we let her spend some time up there.”

Bakugou nodded, closing the door as he made his way back to the elevator. Truthfully, it had been months since you were first admitted to the hospital. No one told Bakugou why you were in there, and everytime he asked you about it, you would quickly change the subject. It was quite obvious that there was something you were hiding, especially since even the nurses and doctors never told Bakugou anything. There was no way that overexerting your quirk could make you hospitalized for all this time.

Bakugou pushed open the door to the roof with his foot, shielding his eyes with his free hand from the beaming sun. He could barely see from the sun’s fierce rays but through slit and squinted eyes, he could make out your back. You were facing away from him, looking down below the building. He walked closer to you, setting down his bag and the food gently so he didn’t scare you. Leaning forward, he rested his forearms on the ledge on the concrete, looking down at what you were engrossed in. 

The height of the enormous hospital building allowed you to see for miles upon miles of buildings and freeways. U.A. was at the epicenter of all of the attention, the school standing tall amongst the smaller buildings. But amongst all of the chaos of the city, there was a brick path, which was elongating throughout the city. Among that path, rows upon rows of cherry blossom trees decorated the edges as if meticulously laid out like ornaments.

You finally took notice of Bakugou's existence, flinching a little at his sudden presence. “Katsuki? I didn’t even hear you come.”

Bakugou gestured to the view below you. “Probably ‘cause you were too focused on this.”

You smiled, resting one forearm on the ledge due to your other arm being connected to the IV drip. “It just looks so pretty. The trees stand out so much, especially all the pink petals floating around.”

“Only you’d pay attention to something so dumb.”

You jutted out your bottom lip in a pout. “You’re just a debbie downer and can’t appreciate life in all its glory.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes at you, but noticed how your knees began to tremble as you gripped tighter onto the IV stand for support. Before your legs caved in, nearly crashing onto the concrete, Bakugou sprung quickly into action. He caught you, protected you, one arm grabbing your hip and the other circling your lower back. You were flustered, not only from the sudden contact, but from the weakness of your limbs.

Bakugou fought off the urge to look away from how close the two of you were, focusing on maneuvering you over to one of the benches that were laid out on the rooftop. “Are you okay?”

You blinked, as if you were taking yourself out of a trance from the shock. “I’m… I’m fine.”

Bakugou felt his cheeks burn up as he thought about what he just did and as a way to take his attention from that, he decided to confront you with a question he so desperately wanted to know the answer to, “Why are you really here for? There’s no way using your quirk too much can make you fucking collapse like this.”

You pursed your lips together, wheeling the IV over to the side of the bench. “It’s actually complicated. I’ve always been sick since I was a kid so this happens sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

You nodded. “It’s happened before but I always bounce back up, I swear. You don’t have to worry about me, Katsuki.”

Bakugou scoffed, looking the other way. “I didn’t say shit about me worrying. The others kept annoying me and asking questions about, s’all.”

You laughed, knowing Bakugou’s behavior all too well. “Speaking of, why’d you visit this time?”

“Alright, I’ll just fucking leave then--”

“No!” You said, laughing as you grabbed onto his forearm and pulled him back down next to you. Your touch was cold against his warm skin “I wasn’t complaining. I really do enjoy your company.”

“Tch, you better.” He leaned down and grabbed the furoshiki and his bookbag. “I didn’t have my old hag pack you all this food and take more notes for you for nothing.”

“Your mom cooked for me again?” You asked, your mouth watering already despite not even consuming Mitsuki’s delicious food yet. “You really don’t have to do all this for me, I’m alright, I swear.”

“‘Alright’ my ass. I’ve told you before that I don’t mind doing this and I’m not just gonna stop because you feel bad.” He pulled out his notebooks, ignoring your groans. Finals were around the corner and then came graduation. Bakugou, although he would never admit it to you, was concerned with what you were planning to do here on out. No matter how many times you tried to convince him and tell him that you were going to get better soon, he couldn’t believe you.

A gust of wind past as you felt your (H/C) locks sway along with its rhythm. The pages to Bakugou’s notebooks turned rapidly. You let out a gasp as the wind died down. “Look!”

The cherry blossoms from the path had blown its petals over with the wind. They fell softly and silently, as if they were snowflakes in the winter’s harsh conditions. But the sun contradicted this illusion as its ray lit up the petals like tiny pink fairy lights. You were smiling from ear to ear at the sight, cupping your hands together as an attempt to catch as many petals as you could. Bakugou watched on, feeling his heart rate increasing the more he laid his eyes on you.

You turned to him. “Close your eyes,” you commanded. 

Bakugou sighed, not having the energy to defy you and knowing that you were planning to do something with those petals. That was why your next actions shocked him more than he could have ever imagined. 

He heard you let out a deep sigh. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time ‘cause I was too scared to do it. But I’ve been feeling a little… brave now.”

Before Bakugou could let out the words “do what?” he sucked in a breath as he felt your warm lips plant themselves onto his own as you cupped his face in your cold hands. The wind continued to blow softly, your hair flowing along with it as the fruity smell of your hair engulfed his nostrils. Your kiss was gentle like your smile and Bakugou felt himself become hotter. Your lips were soft and warm, unlike your ice cold touch.

You pulled away, your face flushed as the gravity of your actions set into your mind. Bakugou felt his own face heat up as he began to realize what you had done, dropping the notebooks from his lap. His eyes were wide, his mouth agape in incredulity. You let out a snicker, immediately angering Bakugou.

“What the hell is so funny?” He asked, his cheeks flushed.

You shook your head. “You just looked so cute, Katsuki.”

“C-ute?” Bakugou whispered slowly in disbelief. You were unbelievable, mind-boggling at times to him. 

You sighed. “I just didn’t know how to thank you. But every time I tried thinking of a way, nothing came up so I decided to do that.”

You stared at Bakugou’s face for a minute, basking in his expression. For a second, you felt a tug in your chest, like you didn’t want to ever forget his expressive crimson eyes. You scooted closer to him on the bench and leaned over, wrapping your arms around his neck as best as you could from your position. Everything you did just sent utter confusion to Bakugou’s brain, his body feeling rigid against your touch. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me. If I’m being honest, I don’t know exactly when I’ll get better. It might be four months or four years, I don’t know.”

You pulled away from him, holding his hands in your own. He had callouses all over the palms of his hands but even though there were bumps and ridges on his skin, he felt so warm and soothing. “You don’t have to put up with this anymore. You can walk out right now, and I won’t think ill of you. You’re heading into the real world as a pro and you deserve to not have to worry about me.”

Bakugou felt his face become hotter, but not from shock or embarrassment this time. He felt angry with you. He was angered that despite everything he had done for you, the daily visits, the tutor sessions, or the lunch breaks with him, you felt as if he was ready to just walk away.

Bakugou parted his lips to say something but you shook your head. “You don’t have to say anything now, I’m serious. I honestly don’t know when I’ll get better. I have my family looking after me so you don’t have to worry about me. You should focus on finals and graduation and your future.”

His eyes stared back into your own, trying to decipher what was going through that head of yours. The things you said and did were all unfathomable and incomprehensible. It made things even harder for Bakugou to say anything. Only you would be the kind of person to kiss someone and then give them the option to walk out of your life.

Before Bakugou could even think another thought, the door to the rooftop entrance opened. Your nurse smiled at the two of you, pointing at her watch to indicate that it was time for your medicine. You nodded, using your IV stand as a crutch as you pulled yourself up to your feet. Bakugou stood up quickly, holding your forearm in his hand to steadily hold you up.

“Can you walk?” 

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Don’t underestimate me too much.”

Ignoring your words, Bakugou stood behind you, ready to catch you if you so happened to fall. He had his hand hovering over the small of your back as you walked back into the building. The nurse smiled at Bakugou as she put her hand to the IV stand. “I’m guessing we’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Uh, yeah.”

You smiled and waved back at him. “Thank you and your family for everything, Katsuki. And please consider what I said seriously.”

Bakugou watched as you and the nurse walked back to room 405, the sound of the door sliding open and close echoing through the hallway. He stayed there for a few moments before finally deciding to go back home. 

***

On any other day, Bakugou was able to fall asleep fairly quickly and early as he was unusually strict about his sleeping schedule. But tonight, his mind was whirring with an abundance of thoughts. And you were the only thing that kept popping up in his mind. He felt himself blush as he envisioned your lips on his over and over again. He threw the duvet off of him as he began to grow hot the more he saw your face. Bakugou got up and went to the bathroom; turned the sink on and splashed cold water onto his face.

Your words and voice kept echoing through his mind as well. He wished he could tell you how he felt and how angry he felt when you spoke to him as if you were running on borrowed time. But he didn’t get the chance to question you any further.

A few knocks came through from the opposite side of the door, snapping Bakugou out his trance as he opened the door. Masaru stood by the doorframe, a puzzled expression on his face. “Katsuki, what’re you doing up so late?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Bakugou said curtly, flicking the light switch off and making his way back to his bedroom.

Masaru followed him, standing by the door as he watched his son sit on the edge of his bed and stare up at the ceiling. “Is something bothering you?”

“It’s nothing, just school stuff.”

“Is it about Y/N?” Bakugou looked back down at his father and Masaru smiled as he was able to correctly read his son. “I had a feeling something happened with her.”

Masaru walked inside and closed the door behind him, turning the light on. He sat beside Bakugou as his son continued staring at the space in front of him. “How’s she doing?”

Bakugou let out an exasperated sigh. “I can’t tell for sure. She’s not giving me a straight answer and it’s pissing me off. Like she’s keeping a huge secret from me.”

Bakugou paused for a moment, internally deciding whether or not to confide in his father. Deciding to do so, he glanced at Masaru momentarily. “I need advice.”

Masaru raised his brows slightly. He knew Bakugou as someone who always kept to himself and disliked others prying in his life. It was the first time he was coming forward and asking for something. “Of course, son! What’s wrong?”

“It’s about Y/N. She was being… nice...” Bakugou cleared his throat, not wanting to address the kiss, “she was being nice all day but all of a sudden she said some bullshit about giving me the option to walk out of her life and not have to worry about her. It’s all I can think about and it’s fucking pissing me off.”

“Why is it making you feel annoyed?”

Bakugou turned around to face his father, an irritated expression on his face. “Because I’ve been busting my ass off and helping her out all this time and she’s repaying me by saying she wants me to ‘think about my future.’ She’s acting like she’s gonna die tomorrow and she’s fucking giving up.”

“Hmm…” Masaru hummed, thinking for a moment before continuing. “Seems to me that she’s trying to spare your feelings.”

Bakugou furrowed his brows in confusion. “Spare my feelings?”

“I think it’s safe to assume that what Y/N is dealing with isn’t something that’s going to allow her to live her life normally like she used to a few months ago. This… illness that she’s dealing with must be long-term and she doesn’t want you to have to see her in her most vulnerable state. She wants you to focus on your life.”

Bakugou scoffed, his hands clenching into fists. “That idiot… why the fuck would I spend so much time visiting her and looking after her if I was gonna just walk away like a fucking moron? If she thinks she can just deal with this all without at least talking to someone then she’s a bigger idiot that I thought she was.”

“So you’re trying to say that you’re going to always be there for her no matter what?”

Bakugou hesitated, realization setting in as he began to understand the whirlwind of confused thoughts and feelings inside of him. “Yeah…”

Masaru smiled. “Then go tell her! It’s no good for you to just sit around and talk to me. The poor girl probably thinks you’re just leaving like that.”

Bakugou’s hands rested on his knees, fingers clenching around the fabric of his pants as he pondered momentarily. Everytime he attempted to figure out what to say around you, he couldn’t help but feel mentally aggravated. You were always confusing him and throwing curveballs at him to make him feel thirty different emotions at the same time. Bakugou turned to face his Dad once more. 

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna say when I get there but I’ll try.” He got up, grabbing his hoodie as he made his way out. He stopped in the hallway, turning around. “Thanks… I guess.”

Masaru smiled as he watched his son grab his keys and leave the house. In all of the years he’s watched his only child grow, he’s never seen the amount of emotion and vigor Bakugou possessed until he was around you or talked about you. Even a girl he had known for only more than a couple of months had such an effect on him that even he didn’t realize what you were doing to him.

***

Bakugou opened the doors to the hospital, his chest rising up and down as he attempted to recollect himself after sprinting all the way here. The receptionist at the front desk looked at him with a concerned look. “Bakugou? What’re you doing here so late? Visiting hours just finished.”

Bakugou leaned on the counter. “Please let me see her. I just need a few minutes, not that long.” 

The woman looked weary, looking down at her clipboard but Bakugou wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Five minutes. I just need to tell her something and I’ll leave. I swear.”

The woman sighed. “I’ll be in real trouble for this so please make it quick. Five minutes is all you get.”

Bakugou sighed in relief, running towards the stairs before the woman could even utter another word. He used his quirk to maneuver himself up quicker than normal and kicked open the door once he reached the fourth floor. He didn’t bother knocking on your door either, sliding the door open so quickly it clattered against the wall causing a loud clank. 

You jumped in your bed, dropping one of the notebooks Bakugou had given you. Sitting up, you were puzzled as to why he was here so late. “Katsuki, what’re you--”

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

You were taken aback, usually being accustomed to his abrasiveness. “What?”

He took a few steps towards you, standing directly in front of your bed. The proximity of his body to yours even made you flustered. “I don’t give a fuck if you’re sick. You think I didn’t realize that you were going through something serious after being hospitalized for months? There’s no way I’m leaving you now, not when you’re acting like you’re fine when you’re obviously having to deal with a shitty situation. And I don’t give a fuck about what you say or think, I’m gonna be here whether you like it or not.”

Bakugou continued breathing heavily, both from coming here at such a fast pace and from his own words that were spewing out of his mouth. Every other time he was around you, he didn’t know what the right thing to say was, always ending up second guessing himself. But that was every other time. He finally decided to go with his gut and tell you how he was feeling without thinking about the aftermath.

You smiled, laughter escaping your lips. The sound filled the room and Bakugou was confused. “Why… Why the hell are you laughing?!”

You giggled, pulling on his shirt and making him sit by your bed. Cupping his face in your hands, you grinned widely. “You’re incredible, Bakugou Katsuki.”

Bakugou stared back at you, ignoring the heat in his cheeks as he felt your glacial-like hands against his skin. He took your hands away from his face and you watched curiously as he held your hands earnestly. He controlled his quirk enough to heat your hands up, making you feel warmth in your fingertips for the first time in months. 

Your fingers brushed over the various calluses on his hands. “I heard you loud and clear. And I’m sorry if I made you angry with what I said. I just didn’t want you to have your hopes up.”

He looked into your eyes directly and intently. “The minute I met you I had my hopes up. I’ve had my hopes up every time I’ve been around you. I mean it, Y/N. You’re gonna have to rip me apart limb from limb if you want me to leave your side now.”

You laughed again, squeezing his hand in yours. In that moment, you had never felt so much warmth practically radiating off of another person. Although all of these feelings and emotions were stirring inside you, you were too afraid to do anything with them. The news of the severity of your sickness made you feel more ambitious than usual but it also made you more hesitant. You didn’t want Bakugou to be involved in something that he wouldn’t know what would be the outcome. Who knew when you would get better and if you would ever recover completely, but in that moment, you refused to let the physical nature of your body control how you would live your life.

❝Should I turn back around a few more times?

We walk along together upon the desolate road, conversation lacking substance

We look out into the distance where the light shines

I realized just then I can no longer move forward

Every step brings me closer to our end and the hand I used to hold seems to vanish in the wind❞

Bakugou shoved his phone in his pocket, the sweat already formulating in his hands as he felt the heat of the summer take its effect on him. He paid no mind to the various looks that he received from onlookers and passerbys. Kids bounced up and down excitedly to their parents, whispering, “Look, it’s Ground Zero!” 

Even the old lady running the flower cart was appalled as the infamous hero stopped in front of her stand. She stared curiously as Bakugou inspected the variety of bouquets she had laid out before him. He had his eyes set on a specific one: a completely white bouquet of tulips with hints of pink cherry blossoms hidden behind the fragile white petals.

Bakugou pointed to the bouquet, handing the elderly woman a wad of cash. “I’ll take that one.”

The woman was snapped from her staring, grabbing the bouquet and handing it to him. She smiled. “That must be for someone special.”

Bakugou looked down at the bouquet and down the long path he had yet to walk past. He smiled slightly. “You could say that…”

~~~

Bakugou clenched the bag of pastries in his left hand tightly as he pushed open the now familiar doors to Meijo Hospital. Yaoyorozu and Mina were excited and bubbly when they told Bakugou about visiting you when they ran into him during patrol. Truthfully, he felt guilty for not visiting you as often as he could. Now being a pro hero, he was constantly given work that put him in a position to have to rely on texting and calling you. Once he was free of work, it was already too late as visiting hours were closed. Nevertheless, you always reassured him and told him that you understood that he was busy saving people and you never once complained either. But he couldn’t help but think: were you lonely in that desolate room?

“Ground Zero!” The same receptionist behind the desk from Bakugou’s days in U.A. exclaimed with a bright smile. The other fairly new receptionists were shocked at the sight of the newly professional hero before them. “It’s been so long, I was wondering when you were coming.”

“I was busy. Is she still in room…?”

“405? Yup, she’s still in the same room,” the receptionist said, gesturing down the wide room towards the elevator. 

Bakugou made his way towards the elevators, stopping in front of them as he finally took notice of the numerous eyes set on him as people began whispering to one another. Even though he thought he would’ve gotten used to the attention, and although most days he didn’t mind it, he felt particularly annoyed that day. He rolled his eyes, choosing to take the stairs instead. He trudged up the stairs, his footfalls echoing through the empty and long space. 

The closer he got to the fourth floor, the heavier his chest felt. The last time he saw you was almost three weeks ago and he noticed how you had gotten sicker and sicker. Your cheekbones were poking against your skin as your face looked sunken in. Seeing how you had not only lost a considerable amount of weight but also how you looked weaker overall made Bakugou experience a pain he never thought he’d be able to feel. And despite your deteriorating appearance, you still had the brightest smile on your face. Your eyes lit up in a manner like no other and you continued to amaze Bakugou.

Bakugou finally reached your door, lingering outside for a few moments. He peered inside through the small frame of glass, watching as you sat up on your bed and looked down at your hands. You had a candle in your hands, taking in a large breath before attempting to use your quirk. You were fully concentrated on the wick of the candle as you slowly lifted your hand to the wick. Just as a small spark of a flame was beginning to form at the palm of your hand, you couldn’t control it and the flames engulfed the entire candle. 

Right as Bakugou moved to push open the door to help you, you dropped it to the floor, instinctively grabbing the fire extinguisher and putting the mess out. You dropped the extinguisher to the floor as well, the metal causing a loud clanging sound to erupt even past the door. Bakugou watched as your fists grabbed the bed sheets in aggravation. The tears naturally fell from your eyes and there was no stop to them. You were holding in so many emotions and you couldn’t hold it in any longer. It was too tiring to act like you were always kept together when you just wanted to crumble sometimes.

Bakugou felt his hand clenching the handle of the door, slowly and quietly sliding it open. You didn’t bother looking up, expecting one your parents to have walked in to console you. “Mom, Dad, please leave me alone. I really want to be alone.” The words left your lips like a whisper.

You were greeted by a pair of sturdy arms wrapping themselves around your shaking body, a familiar yet comforting smell, hints of a caramel and earth fragrance engulfing your nostrils. Bakugou was warm against you, like he always was. But he felt even warmer that day. 

Bakugou rubbed your back, dropping the bag of pastries on the stand by your bed. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on and I wanna think that you’re keeping it from me to spare my feelings. But you’re not in this alone. You don’t have to shoulder this pain on your own. You’re human and you don’t deserve to beat yourself up over this shit.”

The lump in your throat rose as uncontrollable sobs escaped your lips. Hearing Bakugou’s voice, one that you had missed listening to, made you feel comforted but the severity of your condition was taking a toll on not only your body but also your mental well-being. It had already been nearly two years since you were hospitalized. 

Your tears painted his black tee but Bakugou didn’t mind as he rested his cheek against the top of your head and continued to rub your back. Sometimes the only thing you could do was let the tears fall until they ran out and it made it better to have someone there to just hold you.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, wiping away the tears from your face and pulling away from Bakugou. 

His hands rests on your shoulders, staring at you with disbelief and concern. “You don’t have to be sorry about this.”

You shook your head. “I… I should’ve just rejected you that night. I shouldn’t have let you get close to me.”

“What do you mean, Y/N?” The way your voice sounded frantic and rushed was mildly scaring Bakugou.

“The doctor is giving me the option of surgery to help me out but the chances of me making it out alive is slim,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you spoke. 

Bakugou was perplexed, not understanding why you needed surgery in the first place but it also made him realize the severity of your condition. You looked up at him, laughing at yourself as you realized Bakugou’s confusion as you hadn’t told him what was happening to you. “I’m sorry for not explaining it before… but without making it too complex, my quirk is hurting me. It’s funny ‘cause it’s such a simple quirk, just some flames, but it’s not simple at the same time. Katsuki… my quirk is destroying me from the inside out.”

Bakugou didn’t realize how tightly he was gripping your shoulders as his crimson eyes looked back and forth from one eye to the other. He was waiting for the punchline, waiting for this to be a sick joke and that you weren’t in such a serious situation. He wanted to see your face break out into a smile, that same smile that made him fall head over heels for you. He waited for a moment but he felt his heart shatter to pieces as he continued to look back at the broken girl sitting before him. 

He engulfed you back into his arms, holding onto your frail body tight enough that it wasn’t hurting you. He nuzzled his face into the crook on your neck, feeling the frustration build up within him. He never wanted to let you go ever again. 

“It’s gonna be okay.”

The tears started culminating again as the sobs escaped your lips. Your hands gripped onto Bakugou’s black tee so tightly that you could feel your own fingernails stab into your palm. “I don’t know what to do, Katsu. What do I do? I’m so scared.”

Bakugou was at a loss for words. He didn’t know either, didn’t know how to comfort you or how to take away the fear you were experiencing. He pulled away from you, brushing away the hairs that were sticking to your tear soaked cheeks. 

He let out a sigh. “If this surgery works, will you be okay?”

You nodded. “If it’s a success, my quirk won’t be any good but I’ll be able to live again. But if I don’t take it… there’s barely a guarantee that I’ll be able to live, too.”

Bakugou’s lips curled upwards slightly. “Then there’s your answer. You need to take any chance to get better, to get out of this fucking room. This is your life, Y/N. And I know you’re not the type to take this shit lying down.”

You sniffled, nodding along with him. “I am tired of this room. And… I just want to walk on my own two feet again. But I’m just so scared. I know that if I don’t take this surgery, I’ll be dead but this is just speeding up the process and the stakes are so high.”

Bakugou brought his hand up and patted your hair down. “There’s nothing to be scared of. Not when you’ve got your family and friends here. Not when you’ve got me here and there’s no way I’m letting some fucking quirk or sickness take you from me.”

A small laugh erupted within you, the first smile you had for weeks on your face. You brought your usual icy-cold hands up to cup Bakugou’s face, rubbing your thumb along the new scar on his brow bone from the last villain’s attack. “I keep hearing all the nurses say how strong and handsome ‘Pro Hero Ground Zero’ is. And whenever I see you on the news, I keep imagining the day I get to see you in your hero costume and see in person how you keep saving people’s lives.”

Your smile intensified as you looked back up at Bakugou’s eyes. You were deprived three weeks of seeing your boyfriend, wanting to bask in this moment longer than usual. “I kept thinking of that, you know, kept thinking about the day I can see you and spend time with you outside of this dreadful room. It’s been the only thing keeping me going.”

You sighed, leaning into him and pressing your cheek against his chest. You could hear how fast his heart began to beat, how even the slightest touch made him go crazy. “I don’t know how I could ever repay you for all of the things you’ve done for me, Katsuki.”

Bakugou scoffed, bringing his arms up to hold you against him. “I haven’t done shit, if anything I’m doing the bare minimum. All I’m doing is seeing you, that’s it.”

You shook your head against him. “You don’t understand. As much as I appreciate and love my parents and the others for visiting, the way I feel when I see your face is a feeling I can’t describe in words. Sometimes I feel like giving up, just throwing in the towel ‘cause sometimes that’s just easier. But then I think of you and how persistent and determined you are. I think about how you’ve never given up in your life, not even for a second. Most people see that ambition in you as arrogant but I see it as brave. And I want to be like you.”

Bakugou sighed once more. “You’re unbelievable. You’re the one in the hospital and here you are hyping me up and making my ego bigger than it already fucking is.”

A breathless laugh escaped your lips. Your arms tightened around his firm torso. “You’re a hero, Katsuki. You’re my hero.”

❝So, tell me now, how can I love the heartbreak when you’re the one I love,

To give you up because of love or from the heartache and pain

No, my heart, that's something I can never do❞

Bakugou groaned as his phone began vibrating once again. He begrudgingly fished it out on his pocket, answering it without bothering to acknowledge the caller ID. “What?”

“What, even your mother can’t get a decent ‘hello’ just ‘cause her son’s famous now?” Mitsuki huffed from the other line.

Bakugou rolled his eyes as he continued walking down the path. “What is it?”

“Kirishima called and told me that you’re visiting Y/N.” That fucking snitch… “Your dad wanted me to check up on you since it’s been two years since you’ve seen her.”

“He’s worrying for nothing. I’m fine.”

“Katsuki, you’re not fooling anyone. I can smell the bullshit all the way from here.” Bakugou could hear his mother sigh. “Are you sure you need to see her today? The way you two ended things...”

“Something’s telling me to meet up with her today, okay? I need to see her.”

Mitsuki paused before letting out another sigh. “I can’t even complain about your stubbornness ‘cause you got it from me. Since you’ve made up your mind, tell her ‘hi’ from me and your dad. And tell her we’ve missed her.”

“Alright.” He hung up, shoving his phone back into his pocket. He felt his heart skip a beat when the cool metal touched his fingertips. His feet stopped moving, the gust of wind blowing against his body as numerous cherry blossom petals floated against the wind. The metal band shined in the sun’s light, the giant diamond sitting on the band shining even brighter. Bakugou’s fingers curled around the ring in a fist. The memories from this ring were his favorite, one that he could recall perfectly. It was the one of the last times he saw that beautiful smile on your face, the smile that radiated purity and serenity.

~~~

The weather was practically unbearable that day. Bakugou could feel beads of sweat sliding down his forehead and neck as well as a pool forming at his palms and fingertips. Not only was he worn out from work and patrolling, the weather was just adding onto the trouble.

“Hmm, I wonder who you’re going to visit, Bakugou,” the same old receptionist teased as Bakugou walked up to the front desk and signed his name under the visiting section. She gasped as she took the clipboard from him. 

“If I’m not here, who’s gonna keep that shitty girl company?” Bakugou said with a smirk, gripping the plastic bag in his hand.

The receptionist laughed as he walked away and said good-bye. It was like second nature by now to walk into Meijo Hospital to the point where Bakugou recognized nearly every doctor and nurse in your wing. A few of them grinned as he walked past them, going towards good ole room 405.

Bakugou slid the door open, confused as to why your room was empty. He looked down the hallway, getting the attention of one of the nurses. “Where’s Y/N?”

“She was with Nurse Takahashi earlier. She wanted some fresh air so I think she’s on the first floor,” the nurse responded.

Bakugou sighed, sliding the door shut. “This girl’s making me go through this whole fucking building to find her…” he thought to himself.

He begrudgingly made his way down to the first floor, deciding to take the elevator for once. Once he reached the lobby, he scanned the area, attempting to spot your (H/C) locks. He stepped outside, getting frustrated as he couldn’t figure out where you were. Knowing you, you were most likely hiding somewhere trying to scare him.

Which was exactly what you were doing.

Your attempt at popping out from the bush area, screaming ‘boo!’ was a fail as not only did Bakugou expect you to do that, but your being in a wheelchair didn’t help either.

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “You’re always doing shit to give me a hard time, huh?”

You grinned widely. “Of course. I have to keep you on your toes.”

You wheeled yourself forward, heading away from the building. “Come on!”

“Are you even allowed to be out here?”

You nodded. “Mhm. Takahashi let me have some free time since I’m fully recovered from the surgery. Plus, I told him Ground Zero was coming to keep an eye on me.”

Bakugou sighed, placing the plastic bag in your lap as he took the handles on the wheelchair in his fists and wheeled you forward. “You’re not on the IV anymore?”

You shook your head, gasping inwardly in delight at the sight of the popsicles inside the bag. “I’m off pain killers. It’s been two weeks since the surgery, you know.”

“You still have to be careful. Didn’t that nurse guy say that there still isn’t a one-hundred percent chance of that quirk of yours being destroyed?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, licking the cool popsicle. “I’m fine, I swear. You’d think that with the six years we’ve been together you’d trust me more.”

“It’s ‘cause I’ve known you for six damn years that I know you get too excited and get reckless,” Bakugou huffed. 

You snickered, leaning back. The preparation for the long-awaited surgery was one of the most nerve wracking experiences of your life. Just waiting for the day to come was the scariest part. Due to the severity of the process, as the medical staff was attempting to extract your quirk from you, it took years to prepare for it. Although using something as drastic as the Quirk-Destroying Drug used by the villain Overhaul would have made the process quicker and easier, the drug was mandated illegal for the purpose of the drug as well as the way in which it was created. 

Once you went through with the surgery, the recovery period was also difficult to deal with. Your body was learning how to function again as years have passed since the quirk was slowly killing your insides. Although you were off painkillers, it would still take time and lots of physical and mental therapy to be how you were when you were just a teenager. Even though the surgery was a success, your quirk was reduced to the size of a fraction of a bean, meaning that there was still a chance that it could grow and weaken your body once again. Nevertheless, you took that chance and here you were, on your way to a normal life.

Although the recovery period was difficult and it is still difficult functioning everyday, Bakugou was there by your side for all of it. He made sure to visit and help your parents out as much as he could, balancing a demanding job on top of this. He would often get scolded by his agency but he didn’t give a damn. You were his top priority and you will always be his top priority.

You crossed your arm over your shoulder, putting your hand over Bakugou’s. He felt comforted by how warm your touch had become. “I’ve missed you, Katsuki.”

“The hell do you mean, I’ve been here the whole time?” Bakugou asked, pushing you towards the brick path he knew you loved so much.

You laughed, shrugging your shoulders. “I don’t know. It’s just that I haven’t been myself, my true self all these years because of all of this and now I finally feel like it again.”

Bakugou smiled softly. For years he saw the effects of your quirk on your physical and mental well-being. As much as you tried to be optimistic for him, your parents, and friends, Bakugou knew that deep down you were terrified and tired of being stuck in that damn room.

You pointed to one of the many wooden benches surrounding the edges of the path, one sitting right under a cherry blossom tree. “Let’s sit over there.”

Bakugou maneuvered you beside the bench, sitting down so he was right next to you. You handed him a popsicle, one that he took happily as the sun’s intensity only increased. Although Bakugou had gotten used to it, you were shocked at how many people were staring at the two of you. You smiled. “I knew you were popular but I didn’t know you were this popular.”

Bakugou smirked, crumpling the wrapper and throwing it into the plastic bag. “You’re looking at a top hero. Of course they’re all staring.”

You laughed. “They’re probably wondering who I am next to you.”

“They can wonder all they want. I don’t give a fuck what they think but if anyone even thinks about saying any nasty comments about you, I’ll fucking destroy them.”

You chuckled, shaking your head and leaning into him. “Always so violent no matter what, huh?”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, wiping the sweat from his forehead. Eventually the people stopped staring right in front of you, slowly walking past you and making you feel comfortable with the lack of prying eyes. You took notice to Bakugou’s bangs sticking to his forehead, pulling out one of your hair clips. Clipping his hairs back onto his head, Bakugou flinched at your sudden action. “The hell are you doing?”

“You looked hot so I’m just helping you out.” You giggled at how cute he looked, forehead exposed to the world and his same old grumpy face.

“I better not look stupid with this shit in my hair,” he grumbled.

“You look a-dor-able,” you said, enunciating slowly. You pointed down the path. “Let’s go! That’s enough lounging around!”

“You’re the one who wanted to sit here.”

“I know but I want to go down this whole path before the sunsets and we have to head back to the hospital.”

“Alright, gimme a second,” Bakugou said, standing up and pushing you once more.

As you walked with him, Bakugou yelled as he realized the amount of people snickering as they walked past you guys, taking notice to his new hairdo. You laughed along with them and despite his complaining and whining, Bakugou didn’t dare to touch his hair.

Unfortunately, your wish to reach the end of the path was cut short as a woman screaming startled everyone in the area as well as you and Bakugou. Bakugou whipped his head around to the source of the sound, you leaning on the side of the wheelchair to catch a glimpse of the commotion. Bakugou only needed a few seconds to spot a man in a hoodie running in the opposite direction of a flustered woman pointing at him. He had a purse in his hand.

“This asshole,” Bakugou muttered. He quickly pushed you to the side of the path so that you weren’t in the middle of the walkway. “Wait right here.”

“Oka--”

Bakugou ran in the opposite direction before you could say anything else, pushing his hands behind him and using his quirk to increase his momentum. He looked behind him momentarily, making sure no one was behind him to be harmed by his quirk. Once he got closer to the culprit, he yelled, “Hey! Asshole!”

The man turned around, gasping as Bakugou kicked him to the ground, his foot on his torso as the man groaned in pain from the impact of his kick. Bakugou leaned down, snatching the purse from his hand. Fortunately, due to being so close to a hospital, a few security guards rushed towards Bakugou, taking care of the man and thanking Bakugou for his help. Even bystanders walking down the brick path began cheering and clapping, getting a glimpse of the infamous Ground Zero at work. 

Bakugou made his way down the path, handing the woman her purse silently before walking towards you. “Thank you, hero!” She called out.

Bakugou waved her off as he caught sight of you, a wide smile on your face as you were joining in on the clapping. Bakugou scoffed at you, moving your wheelchair from the curb. “You don’t have to clap.”

“Oh, come on! It’s my first time seeing you in action, it was exciting!” You exclaimed.

Bakugou chuckled, continuing to wheel you down the path like he had intended before you were rudely interrupted. He patted down his pants, panicking slightly when he felt his pockets empty. Shoving his hand into his pocket, he let out a sigh of relief when he found what he was looking for.

You turned back, eyeing him. “Did you lose something?”

“No,” Bakugou said a little too quickly, making you even more suspicious.

“O-kay,” you said cautiously, deciding to drop the matter… for now. You looked down the path as the brick and cobble road slowly started to fade. “Where are we going?”

“We’re almost there. You love this road, don’t ya? Thought you’d enjoy this, too,” Bakugou said, nodding to the sight ahead of you. You gasped inwardly as you stared ahead. As the brick path ended, the path was located on a slope, looking down on the metropolitan area. The sun was setting, painting the sky with purple and orange hues. The U.A. building stood tall in the center of all of the commotion of the city, giving you an even more perfect view of the city than the rooftop of the hospital. Plus, there were barely any people huddled around this area as they were too engrossed with the cherry blossom trees to enjoy the view.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered in awe.

Bakugou smirked, pleased with himself. He sat down on the curb, at the top of the hill and enjoying the sight. You smiled, getting up slowly, wanting to join him. He stopped you, getting to his feet and gently pushing you back onto the chair. “What're you doing?!”

“I want to sit with you,” you said simply.

“But you can’t walk now.”

“I can walk a little,” you said, raising your two fingers. “You’re worrying too much. I can move this much just to sit next to you, you know.”

Bakugou sighed, knowing that there was no point in arguing with you. He grabbed your hand, helping you sit beside him and he pushed the wheelchair behind the two of you. You smiled up at him, scooting closer to him and latching onto his arm. “It’s nice to spend time like this with you.”

Bakugou hummed, his hand in his pocket as he looked over to you. “It makes me excited to think about all the memories we’ll make when I’m all better,” you said excitedly.

“Me too,” Bakugou said, sweat forming on his forehead once more. His palms were beginning to sweat as well, this time not from the heat. 

You took notice to his nervousness, furrowing your brows. “What’s wrong, Katsu?”

Bakugou gripped the object in his pocket with such force that he was shocked it hadn’t broken. He sighed. “Being here with you makes me think about the future.”

You smiled, pinching his cheek teasingly. “What, you’re nervous to spend your future with me?”

He turned to face you, his eyes piercing right through you. He took the velvet box out from his pocket, flicking it open to reveal a metal band with a giant diamond sitting on top of it, one that would put the sun to shame with it shining brightly before you. “No. It makes me fucking excited to want to spend my whole life with you.”

Your eyes widened as you took notice to the engagement ring in his calloused hands. You could only shake your head, not able to believe what you were seeing or form any coherent words. Tears started forming as you stared at him. You were speechless, overwhelmed with love and feelings of security. As time passed and your condition worsened, it was harder and harder for you to even dream about things like marriage. But with Bakugou by your side giving you hope and pushing you to want to get better, it made you believe; can you really live a normal life again?

“Shit, did I fuck it up?” Bakugou asked angrily, annoyed with himself. “I’m supposed to get down on one knee and shit, aren’t I?”

Your (E/C) eyes watched on as Bakugou got up and went down on his left knee, holding the box up to you with an intense look on his face. You covered your mouth in disbelief, the tears now streaming down your face.

“Y/N, will you marry--”

“Yes!” You screamed, your voice echoing through the air. You attacked him into an aggressive hug, causing Bakugou to lose balance and fall backward onto the grassy area. Luckily he managed to catch your body and not lose the expensive ring at the same time. You buried your head into his neck, sobbing as your tears splattered his skin. “A million times yes!”

Bakugou laughed, a weight lifting of his shoulders. “You idiot, I could’ve dropped this shit, ya know?” His expression didn’t match his tone as he grinned widely. 

You got up, still on top of him and wiping your face despite your sobbing never ceasing. Bakugou sighed, sitting up and pulling you into his embrace. “You’re not supposed to cry.”

You sniffled, leaning into his shoulder. “I’m just so happy, Katsuki.”

Bakugou shook his head, taking your left hand from your face and sliding the ring onto your finger. He caressed your hair, laughing at your tear-streaked face. You wiped your face once more, gasping for air in between your sobs. “It’s just… for the longest time I didn’t know if I’d ever survive to see the next day. And… And now you’re giving me hope to spend our lives together.”

Bakugou smiled, wiping your face as well, cupping your face in his hands. “Well now it gives you all the more reason to wanna get better.”

You laughed breathlessly, finally ceasing the tears from falling. You looked down at your hand, smiling at the ring. “You don’t understand, Katsuki, you’ve helped me survive more than you’ll ever know.”

You leaned in, planting a soft and warm kiss on his cheek. “You’re the reason why I still exist, Katsu. You give me a reason to want to wake up the next day.”

❝How could I do that to you

Our love that runs deep as the ocean,

Waiting till it runs dry…

The wind was strong that morning. But it wasn’t a slight breeze like usual as it brought harsh flurries of snow and frost along with it. Fortunately for Bakugou, who’s quirk was well suited for these harsh conditions, was fine as he made his way to his agency. 

Right when he opened the doors, he was attacked into a hug. Kaminari smiled at him as he attempted to leech off of his warmth. “Kacchan!”

Bakugou grimaced, lifting him up by his shirt and dropping him on the floor. “Don’t ever fucking touch me or say that name ever again, dunce face.”

“Oh, come on! It’s not fair that you get all that warmth ‘cause of your quirk!” Kaminari complained, leaning on the front desk as he shivered in his costume.

Kirishima greeted the two, also clad in his hero costume. “Took you long enough.”

“What the hell are you two doing here anyways?” Bakugou asked, nodding at his receptionists as they greeted him. He made his way to his office and Kaminari and Kirishima followed him.

“We were in town after taking down some giant goat villain,” Kirishima said.

Bakugou closed the door behind them. “Goat villain?”

“Yeah, it was pretty weird. But we knew your place was nearby and we wanted to pay you a visit!” Kaminari exclaimed. “We also wanted to see how Y/N’s doing.”

Kirishima perked up. “Yeah, how is she, man? I heard she’s still in recovery from that surgery from like a year ago.”

Bakugou nodded, taking his gauntlets off and tossing them to the side. “She’s getting better with time. She was getting physical therapy so her body gets used to fixing the damage from her quirk but she got sick so she’s at the hospital.”

Kaminari sighed. “That poor girl can never catch a break. And here I was thinking you two could’ve at least gotten married.”

Bakugou slipped his gloves off and threw them onto his desk. “We already did.”

Kaminari and Kirishima both jumped up, eyes wide. “What?!”

Bakugou showed them the wedding band on his finger. “We didn’t want a ceremony and she didn’t feel like waiting so we just did the paperwork s’all.”

“Congratulations, man!” Kirishima said excitedly.

Kaminari pouted, slumping down on one of the chairs in front of Bakugou’s desk. “No fair, I bet Y/N would’ve looked real pretty in a wedding dress.”

Bakugou glared at him, taking off the rest of his gear including his eye mask and leaving his jacket-like top and pants on. “You better get those perverted thoughts out of your fucking head.”

Kaminari raised his hands up defensively. “I wasn’t thinking anything perverted! I just thought she’d look pretty!”

“Well you’re a fucking pervert either way so I don’t trust any bullshit that comes out of your mouth.”

Kirishima sighed, shaking his head as his two friends continued to argue. Bakugou's phone buzzed on the desk and Kirishima gestured to it. “You gonna get that?”

Bakugou grabbed it, looking at the caller ID. It was your dad, in fact he had numerous missed calls from him. He answered the call, bringing the phone up to his ear. “Hello?”

“Katsuki! Thank goodness you answered, I’ve been trying to reach you for some time now!” His voice sounded frantic on the other end.

“Sorry, I leave my phone in my office when I’m wor--”

“Never mind that; it’s about Y/N.”

Bakugou felt his heart nearly stop beating as he heard your father’s next words, dropping his phone to the floor. He bolted out the room in a panic, ignoring Kaminari and Kirishima’s worried shouts from behind him as he made his way to Meijo Hospital.

***

The receptionist gave Bakugou a worried look as she saw him dashing for the elevator. Normally she would’ve scolded him for running in the lobby but she had heard the grave news as well, turning a blind eye to the matter. Bakugou aggressively jammed the button on the elevator as the doors closed, the ding sound intensifying as he reached the fourth floor. He used his quirk to push him forward as he finally got to your wing, your parents sitting down nervously in the waiting room.

Bakugou approached them, breathing heavily as his heart pounded against his chest. “Where is she?”

Your mother was crying as your father comforted her. He looked up at Bakugou with worry. “The doctor said they don’t know what happened, they said that she was fine one minute and then… they had to go into immediate surgery. Her organs are failing her.”

Bakugou’s legs gave out underneath him, luckily managing to sit on the chair beneath him and next to your father. The surgery from last year was a success and you were slowly yet surely on your way to recovery. “She was fine… what the fuck went wrong?”

Your mother got up, wiping her eyes as she continued crying. “I’m going to go to the bathroom.”

Your father nodded sadly, watching as she walked down the hall. He turned to Bakugou, sighing. “I��m sure Y/N spared you the complexity of her condition as the medical reason for it is pretty difficult to understand. But similar to your quirk secreting nitroglycerin in your sweat, Y/N’s quirk secretes hydrogen cyanide.”

Bakugou listened intently. “What does that do?”

“Hydrogen cyanide is extremely toxic for the body but it is also flammable, which is what allowed Y/N to create her flames. However, unlike your quirk that secretes nitroglycerin primarily to your sweat, Y/N’s quirk secretes it directly from her endocrine system. I’m not sure if you know but the endocrine system regulates the body by secreting chemical substances into the bloodstream.”

“And that hydrogen cyanide shit’s been in her bloodstream this whole time?” Bakugou asked, not being able to believe what he was hearing.

Your father nodded, the frown still wrinkled on his face. “With the hydrogen cyanide being secreted in her bloodstream, it is affecting her organs, especially since the endocrine system regulates metabolic functions. When she was a child, the secretion was not too much for her to be hospitalized but slowly the dosage started increasing as she got older. She’s had so many of these surgeries but with each surgery, the risk of her being fatally injured in the process kept increasing, too.” 

Your father gripped his knees in his hands in anger, frustrated to no end. “No matter what we do… no matter what we try to do to help her live her life, that damn quirk keeps manifesting. All these surgeries are just delaying the process. Her quirk is slowly burning her up.”

Bakugou looked down the hall, staring at your room. He could faintly hear the doctors and nurses’ voices through the door, hearing how frantic and rushed they sounded. All your life you’ve been fighting your own body and Bakugou refused to believe that it was going to end like this.

Your father clapped a hand onto Bakugou’s shoulder, giving him a weary smile. “Don’t worry, son, we’ve got to be hopeful for her. She’ll get through this, she always has.”

“There’s no way I’m ever giving up on her. I married her because I want to spend the rest of my life with her… only her. I’m not letting her leave me like this,” Bakugou said adamantly.

***

Time was going painstakingly slow. Bakugou had already drank three cups of shitty hospital coffee, your mother had gone through two boxes of tissues as her tears kept coming, and your father had bitten his fingernails into short nubs. Remembering how he left Kaminari and Kirishima, Bakugou asked your dad for his phone, dialing Kirishima’s number in. 

“Bakugou! We’ve been worried sick, man! What the hell happened?” Kirishima asked in a concerned tone.

“Y/N’s in surgery. I’m with her parents at the hospital. I dunno when it’ll be over,” Bakugou said, leaning against the wall.

“Do you want us to come, too?” Kirishima asked after pausing for a moment.

“No, we’re fine here.” The door to your room finally opened and Bakugou perked up immediately. “The doctors are out, I gotta go.”

Bakugou hung up, handing the phone back to your dad as the three of them got up and started crowding the doctors and nurses coming out of the room.

“How is she, doctor?” Your father asked, hopeful for some good news.

The doctors looked uncomfortable, one finally speaking up after what felt like an eternity of silence. “She’s strong. Probably one of the strongest patients I’ve ever had… but it’s not going to work out.”

Bakugou felt his heart drop to his feet. “The hell do you mean?”

The doctor frowned, nervous with Bakugou’s tone. “She has ten minutes left. That quirk of hers was too strong to get rid of even with the surgeries she’s had. We managed to get these last moments for her. We’re so sorry.”

The doctors and nurses bowed to them to show their condolences. Your mother let out a shrieking sob, running into your room immediately. Your father followed suit, rushing to be by your side. But Bakugou couldn’t help but be frozen on the spot. No matter how much he tried to move his feet, he couldn’t do anything. He refused to believe that this was reality, wishing for this to be his worst nightmare.

Finally he moved, his legs feeling like jelly as he collapsed to the ground, his back hitting the wall. He buried his face in his hands, pulling at his hairs in frustration. You were fine, all this time you were on your way to a full recovery. You were smiling brightly just this morning and now… you were on your deathbed?

Your father stepped out, his tear-stricken face evident as he sniffled. “She wants to see you, Katsuki.”

Bakugou snapped his head towards him, nodding as he rose to his feet. He had to drag his feet into your room, terrified of what he was going to see. He sucked in his breath as he made eye contact with you.

You were hooked to so many machines Bakugou couldn’t keep count. You looked inhumanely pale, your veins peeking through your skin. Your hair stuck to your face and you looked exhausted. Nevertheless, you had the most beautiful smile on your face, one that could make Bakugou fall in love with you all over again. “Katsu… ki.”

Bakugou crouched down beside your bed, holding onto your hand. Your other hand was held by both your parents. Bakugou hadn’t taken notice to the tears falling from his eyes until you brought a shaky hand up to wipe them away. “Katsuki, don’t… cry.”

Bakugou felt himself breathing heavily as the tears continued to fall as he held your hand tightly in his. “You idiot, don’t tell me what to do. Not when you’re here like this.”

You let out a breathy and weak laugh, maintaining your smile. “You really are amazing, Katsuki.”

The tight knot-like feeling in Bakugou’s chest refused to leave as the tears drowned his vision. But he wiped them away vigorously, refusing to lose sight of you. Your eyes wandered down, looking at Bakugou’s clothes. “I finally got to see you in your hero costume…”

“Stop talking, you’re making it worse,” Bakugou mumbled incoherently, his lips quivering as he tried to maintain his composure. Your parents held onto you as tightly as Bakugou did, all three refusing to believe the reality and gravity of the situation unfolding before them.

You smiled once again, using all of the strength you had left to maintain that withering smile. You brought a shaky hand up to Bakugou’s cheek, rubbing your thumb along his cheekbone. 

Bakugou’s vision became blurry, tears welling in his eyes as he gritted his teeth in pure anger. “You’re so fucking incredible, you know that? And so badass and strong.”

Your chest was rising and falling unevenly as it became harder and harder for you to breathe. Glancing over to your parents, your eyes glazed with your own tears. “I’m sorry Mom and Dad.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. We’re so proud of you, sweetie,” your mother croaked, your father nodding along.

You smiled once more, a tear gliding down your face. “I love you both. Please look after… Katsuki. And each other.”

The monitor began beeping slowly and Bakugou held your hand in his once again, clenching it as tightly as he could. You gave his hand the slightest squeeze, turning your head to look at him. “Tell the others… that I’m sorry… didn’t get to say goodbye.”

Bakugou nodded vigorously, bringing your enclosed hands to his lips as he planted a soft kiss against your cold skin. “Don’t go, Y/N. Please.”

You laughed again, smiling sympathetically at him. “I wish… we could be… together forever…”

You smiled, your eyes closing slowly. “At least now… I can finally… leave this damn room…” 

The heart monitor continued to beep slower and slower. Time stood still as Bakugou heard your last words ring in his ears. “I love you, Bakugou Katsuki. I love you… more than life…”

Bakugou and your parents stared on as your chest fell for the final time, the flatlining of the monitor echoing through Bakugou’s head. Your fingers went limp in Bakugou’s hand and Bakugou felt himself shake with anger.

“This is some fucking joke… there’s no way this is real…” Bakugou whispered.

The doctors came back into the room, and Bakugou didn’t even notice their presence or your mother passing out onto the floor. As they went over to her side to assist her, your father approached Bakugou. He put a hand on his shoulder. “Son, come on, let’s go.”

“No!” Bakugou pushed his hand away, his eyes blazed as he continued to hold your hand in his. “I’m not leaving this room!”

He looked over to the nurses by the doorway. “You’ve got to do something… anything! We can still save her!”

“Katsuki… please,” your father whispered desperately, his body shaking as his own tears never stopped.

“Ground Zero, sir, there’s nothing else we can do--” 

“Bullshit,” Bakugou growled, interrupting the doctor. “She’s not dead! She was fine a few days ago! And you want me to believe that she’s fucking gone?!”

“Katsuki, you need to open your eyes, son,” your father was pleading beside him on the floor by your bed. “This is just as hard for you as it is for us.” 

Bakugou got to his feet, his fists shaking at his sides as sparks ignited in his palms by his rage. He couldn’t look at you, refusing to see your limp body lying on the bed. He refused to believe anything. “Believe whatever the fuck you want.”

Bakugou ignored the shouts behind him as he stormed out of the room, running as fast as he could. He didn’t know where he was going or what he was doing, going wherever his feet were taking him. She’s not dead, she’s not dead, SHE’S NOT DEAD was all that was repeating in Bakugou’s mind.  

That dreary day in room 405 was one that Bakugou would never forget but was also one he would do whatever he could do to forget. He turned his back on everything that day, and he never came back.

~~~ 

Two years had passed since then. Two painstakingly long years. After that night, Bakugou left the country, travelling to different places to somehow take the pain away, but it was no use. Your face continued to pop up in his mind like a constant reminder that you were gone. 

The first month, Bakugou went to South Korea and China. He tried to indulge himself in anything that would distract him. And as hard as he tried, every night he’d wake up in the middle of the night with the image of your dead body in room 405 haunting him.

The next few months, he covered all of Asia, moving to the Middle East, Europe, Africa and so on. He didn’t answer any calls from his parents, your parents, his agency, or his friends. He submitted a leave of absence to his agency, one that he knew would be approved because it was his agency. 

Sooner rather than later, a year had gone by and Bakugou was still on his pilgrimage to find something to fill the hole that you had left in him but to no avail. After two months, Bakugou finally returned to Japan, coming home to a frenzy of media as he had decided to go back to work. His colleagues and friends wanted to question him, question what he had been doing but didn’t have the heart to do so. They knew how difficult your death was on him. 

When Bakugou went to his family home, he was greeted with swear words and constant yelling from his mother. But he ignored it, actually apologizing to his parents. And like that, Bakugou returned to his life as a pro hero. 

However, things took a turn as he finally decided to quit seeking refuge with his parents and return to the home he had bought to live with you once you were fully recovered. The minute he opened the door, he collapsed to the floor, tears welling in his eyes for the first time in a long time as he saw pictures of you everywhere. The pain came back and it hit him like a punch to the face.

Finally here he was today, as Bakugou finally came to a stop at the brick road. The sun was setting, just like it was when he proposed to you on this same hill that day. Bakugou felt a chill down his spine as his eyes fixated onto your gravesite. The grassy area beside the path had been turned to a gravesite per your family’s request. It was your favorite part of the city and everyone who knew you knew how much you loved the area.

Bakugou stopped moving, his feet frozen in place and his hands clenching around the bouquet as he stared intently at your tombstone. He took a deep breath in and out, bracing himself as he took a few slow steps forward. Once Bakugou mustered enough strength to finally step before your grave, he fell to his knees, gently placing the bouquet in front of the urn of ashes. He took the incense sticks and matches on the side of your grave and lit a stick, placing it beside the flowers.

“I’m finally here, Y/N,” Bakugou said breathlessly, smiling softly. “I’m a really shitty husband for showing up two years late, but I’m here.”

He looked at your name engraved into the stone, that alone making his heart beat faster. Bakugou got up from his position and sat down cross legged in front of your grave, letting out a deep sigh. “I’m the biggest asshole there is. My wife died and I didn’t even go to her funeral ‘cause I didn’t wanna believe that it was true that you were gone.”

Bakugou felt his eyes begin to water and he attempted to suppress them, not wanting to cry in front of you. “Death is a fucked up thing, ya know. I saw your body in that damn room, I saw it with my own eyes. But I still didn’t want to believe it because you were still in that room. But when I left, I thought I would come to my senses but I didn’t. I didn’t realize you were really gone until I woke up in the middle of the night and you weren’t next to me to tell me it’s okay. You weren’t there motivating me even when I was being a dumbass or being hard on myself. You weren’t there to say that you love me.”

Despite how hard he tried, a single tear fell from Bakugou’s eye, one that he wiped away immediately. He didn’t want this “reunion” to be a sad one. “Months after I left I realized that you were really gone. Because when you died, it didn’t hit me all at once. It hit me slowly day by day as I began to see you weren’t there. And it fucking hurts, Y/N. It fucking hurts to not see you here.” 

Bakugou reached into his pocket, pulling out your ring and put it inside the bouquet. “Your dad mailed that to the house when I came back and I thought I was gonna pass out on the spot. Your parents almost had a heart attack once they saw me after all this time without telling them anything. Hell, my folks were pissed, too, ‘specially my mom and she almost beat my ass.”

Bakugou let out a humorless laugh and then another sigh. “Kirishima and my parents said ‘hi’ by the way and how much they missed you. Kaminari, Sero, and the girls also miss you, too. We all fucking miss you, Y/N. And I’d do anything to have you next to me.”

“But that’s not the point,” Bakugou said adamantly. “I’m not gonna sit here and mope about how much I wish you were here ‘cause that’s expected. I know you wouldn’t want me to be sad ‘cause you’re the sweetest person I’ve ever known who cares way too much about others than she does about herself. And I want you to know that you don’t have to worry about me. I’ve got people here to do that, so you just relax up there. You’re finally free, Y/N. You’re free from that sad ass room and I hope you’re finally happy now.” 

Bakugou reached into his pocket one last time, pulling out the unlit and destroyed candles that you had attempted to light a few years ago using your quirk. He placed them beside the bouquet. “Whenever I see these shits I get pissed ‘cause it reminds me about your quirk, about how something you couldn’t control and something that was supposed to help you was what killed you. But now I look at it and it reminds me about all the time we spent together, about all the times we spent in that room.”

Bakugou looked up at your gravesite for one final time, memorizing it as best as he could. “I know you didn’t want me to be a fucked up mess when you were gone, but I couldn’t help it. The heartbreak I felt when you left me is a feeling I could never describe ‘cause it fucking sucks. But I’d go through it all over again if it meant just having another minute with you.”

Bakugou raised a hand to the stone, his fingers tracing the engraving of your name. “I’ve never loved and will never love anyone as much as I love you, (L/N) (F/N). And I can’t wait for the day when I can see you again…”

…will be the day we bid our last goodbye.❞

[evanthenerd83]

“Holly And The Demon Visit The Mall”

1

“Do you feel me,” asked Holly.

The demon nodded, then looked away sheepishly. “I… I guess.”

She smiled. Teeth nearly blinded It. Nearly, because the demon was used to far too much light.

Hell had several suns.

It was always summer, too.

Holly jumped off the hood of the cop car. “Good.”

She still wore her school uniform. The skirt danced about, revealing pale legs and torn stockings.

And thighs. Just the bottoms. But just the bottoms were enough.

A sudden chill sent the demon glancing every which way—at a discarded soda can, a stained napkin, a used condom. It knew that Its cheeks were blue.

Thankfully, Holly didn’t seem to notice. She never noticed.

She skipped around the cop car. Towards the back. Her hand tapped, tapped, tapped on the trunk.

She had nimble fingers. Small hands and nimble fingers.

Fingers that traced the handprint, which was beginning to dry. It was no longer bright red. It looked more brown, brownish black.

The demon felt like gagging.

“You’re… you’re—“

“Absolutely adorable?”

Holly opened the trunk. Her face disappeared.

The demon nearly gagged.

“No. Yes. Kind of?”

A sharp giggle, girly, cut through the night. It was sweet. It was also poisonous.

The demon felt needle-hairs rising to attention. It wrapped Its arms around Itself, and one of Its horns shrunk. The other wobbled a bit.

“Aw, thank you.”

The demon watched the trunk.

It could hear her rummaging around, shoving things. The cop car started to bounce.

The demon held Its breath.

It glanced at the mall.

Lights were still on inside. The parking lot was just barely empty. A few cars sat in sporadic spots.

People were still there.

People.

Men. Women. Children.

An image flashed through the demon’s mind, vivid and sensory. An image so horrible— and so horribly detailed—that it gagged.

It stumbled.

It leaned against the cop car with one clawed hand.

The night spun.

At that moment, Holly slammed the trunk. The sound carried. Nobody seemed to notice.

She was carrying something. The demon could tell. It was obvious from how she was walking. She was also grunting.

The demon screwed Its eyes shut.

‘Please be a hammer. Please be a hammer. Please be a hammer.’

It wasn’t exactly praying. Not entirely.

If a demon prayed, it only prayed to one being. And that being definitely wasn’t a God.

Not an all-loving God, anyway.

Not even a God.

It was a being that barely answered its worshippers’ prayers.

And if it did, it did so with ulterior motives. It only wanted to entertain itself.

The demon was mostly begging. It was begging to the other being, the one opposite—an all-loving God.

Its sworn enemy.

Holly came around the side of the cop car. Her footsteps echoed, a tap-dance routine. They abruptly stopped.

The demon saw her black shoes in the corner of Its eyes.

They shined.

“Whatcha doing?”

‘PleasebeahammerPleasebeahammerPleasebeahammerPleasebea— Oh. Crap.’

The demon gasped. It had glanced up at Holly, slowly, hesitantly. It had just seen what she was carrying.

The thing she had resting against her shoulder.

“No.”

Holly blew a bubble.

Her gum popped.

She resumed chewing it.

“Yes.”

Holly spun around, then started walking towards the mall.

The hammer was big, very big. Practically a sledgehammer. It bounced with each step.

It must have weighed a ton. A hundred tons. Holly didn’t seem to notice, however. She moved just as fast as ever.

The demon stumbled to Its hooves.

It chased after her, tail swinging, striking the pavement. A fear pounded its way through Its chest.

“No. No. No. You can’t.”

It caught up with the girl.

Holly ignored It.

She kept chewing her bubblegum. She had her free hand stuffed inside a pocket, and one of her shoes was untied.

The laces flipped and flopped.

The demon growled, then jumped in front of her. It spread out Its arms. It also shook Its head.

Holly froze.

“No. No, Holly. Not again.”

Holly just stared at It. Her green eyes gleamed. They glimmered like diamonds.

The demon wasn’t sure if this was from the moonlight, the lights in the mall, or something different altogether. Maybe a little bit of both.

Maybe it was her soul again.

Her damned soul.

Holly tilted her head. A curl of blond hair came loose, falling over her left shoulder. It looked cute.

She looked cute.

Wait. What?

The demon blushed again. It looked away from her.

“Why not? We had fun last time, right?”

The demon felt tears forming. They burned.

But It took a deep breath, and It shook Its head again.

“No. You had fun. I was—“

“Hiding in the shadows. And pools of blood. Like a little bitch.”

The demon gaped.

Before everything, all of this mess, Holly had never sworn. Ever.

In the sixteen years of her life, It had never caught her swearing. Not even when her little brother accidentally killed—well, semi-accidentally killed—her pet goldfish.

Or when her crush had stood her up at the Valentine’s Day dance. Nor when she had found him behind the cafeteria, sticking a finger up Jenny Mackindale.

Or when her parents had sent her to the shrink.

Or—

The demon grabbed both of her shoulders. It looked deeply into her eyes.

“Why?! Why are you doing this, Holly?! Huh?!”

Holly just blinked.

She chewed her gum.

“You never spoke like this before… be-before…”

Holly blew another bubble. Like before, it burst.

“Before you showed up?”

The demon blinked a few times.

Yes.

Yes, she was right.

Before It had shown up, appeared in the middle of her dorm, Holly had been a simple girl. A good girl.

Not necessarily a good student. But nobody really was a good student if they went to a catholic school.

The demon knew.

Everyone sinned.

The young. The old. The middle-aged.

Even newborn babies sinned. It was only natural. Humanity was a terrible species, violent and horny and very, very, very selfish, and it was normal for them to seek their own satisfaction.

But Holly…

… Holly was different.

She hadn’t sinned. Ever.

Like her mouth, she had been pure. Unpolluted. She was actually a good person; helpful, forgiving, considerate, respectful.

But now.

Now.

Holly pushed It, passing by. The demon rocked on Its heels for a second. It managed to stabilize Itself.

But by then, it was already too late.

Holly was already entering the mall.

2

“I don’t understand why—“

“You don’t understand anything.”

They were power walking, side by side.

The demon swiped a claw across Its forehead. Pain rose up Its arm. Sweat peppered Its rippled, scaly skin.

Everything that came out of the demon—be it tears or sweat or pee—was acidic beyond all measure.

It had ruined way too many toilets.

No wonder they’d been jumping from motel to motel.

“Hold on,” Holly plucked out her gum. She pinched a pink blob between her fingers.

The demon froze. “What?”

Holly peered back.

She winked.

She swung by a trash can. Said trash can had been positioned behind a rather imposing pillar. Said pillar, gray and very, very close to falling apart, was standing in the middle of the lobby.

The lobby. That wasn’t the right word… was it?

The demon didn’t really know all that much about the living world. It knew enough to get by. How else could It have survived this long?

It had a vague understanding of malls. These large, maze-like complexes bristled with self-indulgence and self-flagellation. Not to mention… capitalism.

So much capitalism.

It knew that humans, driven by their need for material objects, went from shop to shop, wallets filled with money. They bought things. The mere variety of things sent a numbing shock through the demon’s mind.

Books.

Clothes (especially those with more than one fabric).

Jewelry.

Shoes.

Blow-up dolls.

Dildos.

Cold suddenly flooded Its cheeks, and the demon covered Its face with both hands.

It took deep breaths.

“Hey. You okay?”

Her voice made It jump.

The demon also yelped. A hand was suddenly slapped over Its mouth, and Holly glared at It.

She lifted a single finger to her lips.

The demon went quiet. It might not have known much about humanity, but It did understand the gesture.

Be quiet.

Holly pulled It behind the pillar.

She backed up, pressing her back into the pillar. She had It cradled. She was hugging It.

“Hope you weren’t too loud,” Holly peered.

The demon went rigid.

It could taste metal. No, not metal.

‘Blood,’ It realized. “I’m tasting the blood on her hands. Oh, Christ, oh lord, oh my Go—‘

Holly breathed a sigh of relief. Something soft and plump, but not too plump, touched the demon’s spine.

No. Not just something. Some things.

Things that, from Its calculations, were situated on her chest…

‘Tits.’

She let go, and the demon fell to Its knees.

The floor was colder than her hands. Discarded receipts fluttered by. A broken watch gleamed, and It impulsively glanced up.

Holly grabbed her sledgehammer. She’d laid it down while throwing her gum away.

She spun around. For Its credit, the demon tried to avoid the whiteness—flesh, fabric, didn’t really matter—that suddenly flashed across Its field of vision. It did try.

A glare pinned It down. A frown as well.

“H-Holly—“

That gesture again.

Holly tilted her head. She indicated the side of the pillar.

The demon shuffled on Its hands and knees, peering around. It felt like a soldier crawling through a trench.

Was there a sniper waiting for It?

If It exposed Itself, would a bullet go flying? Or would someone scream, causing others to scream?

Scream and scram?

The demon would have giggled.

It exposed a single eye, iris deep crimson.

It saw what she’d been checking out.

The food court, across the lobby, was closed. Many of the restaurants had their lights off. Sandwich Queen. McRonald’s. Burrito-ville.

Only a few still ran. A Lamby’s was being tended to, the cashier Holly’s age. The cook kept looking back at her.

But that wasn’t all.

Because It then saw… them.

Them.

“Do you see?”

The demon didn’t respond.

It shook Its head, slowly at first. It quickened. An icy dread flooded Its empty lungs.

Holly gripped the sledgehammer tighter. Her knuckles turned white.

It knew that she was licking her lips. It could feel the bloodlust wafting off of her, thick and musky.

And what Holly was feeling was bloodlust. Blood. Lust. The demon heard her breathing heavily.

“Do… Do you see?”

The demon gulped.

It could see. It could see plenty.

They were just sitting there, all of them at one table. One—a girl—was busy with her cellular device. Another—a boy—had his arms draped around the girl’s shoulder.

Yet another tipped his chair backwards. A different girl sat in his lap, face twisted in mock horror.

She was giggling.

A third boy stared at a third girl. A goth girl, the demon realized.

A goth girl with her hand underneath their table, shoved down his pants—

“Holly.”

Holly was silent now.

It scooted back, then stood up. It put both claws on her shoulders. It stared deep into her eyes, searching for something, anything, a shred of the girl she had been.

All It found was excitement.

“Holly,” It whimpered. “Holly, no.”

Holly was no longer listening, though.

She was now tossing her sledgehammer—such a big sledgehammer, where’d she even find it—from hand to hand. She muttered to herself.

“No. Not like this.”

Left hand.

“No. Not that either.”

Right hand.

The demon shook her. It was sweating acid-bullets now.

“Holly? H-Holly, please don’t. Just leave them alone.”

Above.

“Maybe it should be higher? No. Not that high.”

Below.

“At my midsection?”

The demon gripped her shoulders tighter, and It felt Its nails digging into the flesh. It loosened Its grip.

“Holly. Holly, let’s just… let’s just go back to the motel. We can… we can order room service… or something.”

It was desperate now.

It was close to tears now.

But Holly didn’t notice. She had finally found a position that she liked. The sledgehammer was tilted, horizontal, and her left hand gripped the handle, the knuckles turning blue.

“Hey! Re-remember that s-story I refused to t-t-te-tell? About those b-b-b-bl-blo-blood or-or-orgies? I… I’ll tell them now. I’ll tell you everything. Just please, just please, don’t go hurting those nice peo—“

Holly ducked out of Its grip.

She then began to run.

…

The teenagers didn’t know what hit them.

Well, that wasn’t true. They saw her running towards their table. How could they have not?

She was wearing a school girl’s uniform. A light brown vest over a white button-down shirt, her collar undone. Her skirt revealed legs that wouldn’t have quit.

And they didn’t quit. They carried her all the way to their table.

Marcy saw the school emblem—a cross.

She was sitting in the right position. She looked up from her phone just long enough to see it.

And to catch the blunt side of the sledgehammer.

Tony managed to stand up and clench his fists. The words were at the tip of his tongue; those three, simple, universal words.

What. The. #$@&.

But before he could open his mouth, the girl swung her sledgehammer.

Everything cut to black.

Samantha instinctively clenched her own fist, and Marcus suddenly reached the finish line. He screamed her name. It sounded like a goat baying.

Something warm filled her hand.

Something else that was warm soon filled his pants.

She tried to pull out. She tried. But before she could, a shoe hit her chest, and Samantha fell backwards.

Marcus went with her. He had a funny look.

That funny look disappeared underneath the sledgehammer.

Samantha opened her mouth to scream.

Something filled her mouth. Another shoe. It was shoved hard, and pressure started to build. A cracking sound from somewhere inside her own head. The pressure gave way to brief, potent pain.

One last, loud crack.

Her lower jaw came loose. It practically dangled, swinging from side to side.

The sledgehammer then found her.

Silence. Dark.

And the warmth coating her hand faded away.

The girl stood over her, chest heaving, cheeks flustered. A strand of blonde hair was plastered to her forehead.

Her eyes gleamed. But they didn’t gleam like emerald diamonds. They gleamed like glass.

She heard their chairs scraping the floor.

She spun around.

The empty chair kept on spinning.

…

[marmolady]

Homecoming: Part Two

Continued from PART ONE

Main Pairings: Estela x (f)MC, Graleister, Variego

Summary: Endless Ending. Back on La Huerta for the first time since the world's resurrection, there are some heart-to-hearts with old friends in order.

Word Count: 4680

Chronology: After 'The New Taylor' and 'A Ride to Remember', sort of midway through 'Inheritance'.

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, @greengroove @mauvecatfic​

Thanks for reading!

“Howdy there, pilot. Have you thought of a name for her yet?” Taylor asked as she stepped into the cockpit, squinting as she adjusted to the bright light that shone through the large windows as they soared over the Caribbean.

“You comin’ in here to annoy me is just part and parcel of my La Huerta jobs now, ain’t it?”

“Oh, Top Gun, so sentimental,” she teased-- but really, like she could talk.

Jake rested his hands behind his head and looked out over a familiar green spot in the blue expanse, now fast approaching. “Well, she’s no ‘Delilah’, that’s for sure. If something comes to me, it comes to me. But like I say, it ain’t the same. It’s not as if you people are about to let me hide from the world with this baby as my only friend.”

“Damn straight.”

“Thought as much. Well, everything’s reading as normal; think we might make it, sans freaky storms this time.” Jake turned to his visitor with a smirk. “I’m still gonna want you to get your ass in a seat. A landing’s a landing.”

Safely in her seat-- Estela by her side, and little Fenix in a pet carrier tucked against the seat in the next aisle-- Taylor felt her stomach doing violent flip-flops as the green spot in the ocean came closer, beginning to take on detail. Rivers she’d bathed in snaking out to the sea, Atropo looming, and the now-abandoned Celestial-- still standing by all appearances unchanged-- in its shadow.

Estela was calm and quiet, contemplative as the small plane descended. So much about this journey was familiar, and yet, everything had changed. This time, marching towards her destiny wasn’t a lonely trail to a foregone violent conclusion; this time, the future was all a big unknown other than the fact that it would be anything but lonely. She wove her fingers with Taylor’s, feeling nerves flowing through, and gently squeezed.

“Almost there, querida.”

With a gentle bump, the plane was on the ground, and Taylor gave a small sigh of relief. She didn’t want to be rude about Jake’s flying ability, but until that point, she’d finished every ride with him in either a crash, a near crash… or plummeting into the sea. That she was something of a nervous flyer was, she thought, pretty damn reasonable.

In no time at all, the cabin door had been swung open, and the warm Caribbean air welcomed the small group home.

“And here I was worried I’d need to replace another plane. It seems the pilot can fly one of these things after all; that’s a fiver I owe you, Grace.”

“He of little faith,” Grace laughed, though it was quite clear she was at least somewhat giddy with relief. “Jake knows what he’s doing.”

No sooner had Taylor set her feet on La Huerta soil than a familiar figure was running towards her, streaking out of the cover of the foliage at the side of the runway.

“Diego! Ohmygod!”

Diego flung his arms around his friend and held her tight. Last he’d seen her, she’d only just clawed herself back from death’s door; Taylor was going to get hugged, and she was going to get hugged hard.

Estela set out into the humid air, immediately aware of the sounds of the jungle; insects and birds, rustling of leaves. Even the smell of the soil was distinctly La Huerta. She hadn’t expected to feel like this, but… she was home.

_____________________________

An almost comically deep miaow made Estela jump. Engrossed in what she’d been writing-- and the frustrated doodles she’d been swirling on a separate piece of paper-- she hadn’t noticed Taylor’s cat, Madam, joining her on the wooden bench outside their home.

“I must be making myself crazy, hey Mierdita? I guess you’re here to make sure my senses stay sharp… or you’ve come to complain to me about Nixie.”

“Mow.”

Estela giggled and scooped the little cat, presently bright orange in colour, though that was subject to change, and hugged her to her chest. It was nice to have the company. Taylor was down on the beach, catching up with Diego for the first time in far too long. And what Estela was doing… for the most part, she needed to be left in her own space to do it. The little cat might have been a distraction, but from the number of doodles Estela had scribbled, it looked as though her productivity had already peaked for the time being.

“You’ll just have to learn to forgive Taylor. You know she likes to surround herself with lots of friends.”

Madam nimbly climbed her way up onto Estela’s shoulder, and enthusiastically rubbed against her face.

“I’m glad I can make you feel better. I guess I wasn’t getting anywhere with writing this anyway….”

With a little sigh, she tucked the unfinished letter in her hoodie. She’d written so many letters to her mother-- one for every week she’d been working here on the island-- but to find the words to say goodbye, to get some kind of closure, did not come easy. Maybe with a little more time to think….

“Hello?”

Estela looked up to see Varyyn outside the front of the house. “Haalta, Varyyn. I’m round the side.”

With a low growl, Madam ducked down into Estela’s hood and pressed herself against her neck. She eyed their visitor with great suspicion from her perch.

“It looks like your little friend is happy to have you back,” Varyyn said as he approached, “--and less pleased to see me.”

“Don’t worry; she has a lot to say, but it’s all talk. She won’t bite.”

Varyyn, rather daringly in Estela’s view-- though he did regularly hang around with a hulking smilodon, so maybe he was just good with cats-- reached and tickled Madam under her chin.

“I have been wanting to find you,” he said. “Diego had told me you were preparing a memorial for your mother.”

‘’S a long time coming,” Estela grunted. “And maybe it’ll be a long time still; I don’t want to do anything extravagant, but it’s got to be right.”

“That is fair. I hope I am not disturbing you.”

“No, no. I don’t mind,” she said, gentler. “So long as it’s in progress. Finally. I couldn’t exactly get any kind of closure until I’d dealt with Rourke, and then… I needed to go home. I dunno… maybe it was easier to feel it as anger, because the sadness was too much to bear if I let it take its place. When I let myself really feel it….” A tear rolled down her face, and she brushed it away. “I don’t know if I can say I’m at peace with it all… I don’t think I ever really can be. But I’m better. I brought over the letters Mom sent me when she was here on the island, to bury. And I then thought of writing again… to say goodbye. All I’ve gotta do now is find the words. Anyway,” she finished hurriedly, “you wanted me for something?”

Varyyn nodded sagely. It wasn’t lost on him the intimacy of what was being shared. Perhaps the violent death of his own mother had given Estela a sense of tragic kinship with him?

“Seraxa and I talked at great length. It had… troubled me that there had been no acknowledgement of your mother’s sacrifice. She must have felt very alone standing against the Hydra, but we will not see that bravery forgotten now.”

He reached into his satchel, and brought out a neatly folded set of clothes.

“To wear the traditional uniform of our warriors is the greatest of honours. We wish to pay tribute to your mother as a hero to the Vaanti, if you will accept this gift.”

Estela’s eyes grew wide, and her bottom lip wobbled. “I--- um, thank you.” That’s the best you can manage? “I… don’t know what to say. Thank you.” In Varyyn’s nod of understanding, the look in his eyes, it was plain to see he felt the depth of her gratitude.

A gentle smile came to Varyyn’s face, as though he was relieved. “It is your choice whether you would like to wear this in her honour, or simply keep it as part of your memorial.”

Her cheeks flushed, Estela hugged the folded uniform to her chest. There were just… no words to adequately say what the gesture meant. For Estela’s own protection, any trace of Olivia Montoya’s connection to Everett Rourke had been wiped from record; and with it, all evidence of the courageous last stand taken. But here she was remembered.

“I don’t think I’ve told you…,” Estela choked out after a little while. “I mean, it’s not as if I’m the best conversationalist… I don’t know what to say to people half the time.” She shook her head. “But, anyway, I always found you impressive. When your mother died… it was sudden, and brutal, and somehow you had the strength to honour her by taking up her mantle. Immediately. And you always seemed so together, however much you were crumbling on the inside. You had to be.”

“I had good friends to lean on. And I had Diego.” Varyyn chucked darkly. “It is terrible, but when you all came back through the gate, as much I was very sad for you all, and for Diego, that everything you knew and loved was gone… there was a very selfish part of me….” He stalled.

“Fair enough,” Estela said, not about to force him to finish a clearly uncomfortable sentence. “It had only been a couple of days. How’s anyone supposed to bear that much loss? While carrying the expectations and fears of your people? Diego gave you comfort when you needed it most. And… then you gave him the same.”

“Yes.”

Having that shoulder; it made all the difference. It made living through the worst of horrors bearable, and then, somehow… it made the act of living on, in hope, possible. Varyyn had Diego. She, Estela, had her Taylor. And they all had one another.

“We’re lucky we found the right people.”

___________________________

As she slogged through the soft white sand, Taylor wasn’t sure what was going to give out first, her legs or her lungs. Using her best friend’s hand as an anchor, she kept on putting one foot in front of the other.

“Hey, Taylor, you know, it might be easier to have a real conversation if we sat down for a bit.”

Diego was polite and tactful, but what he meant was clearly; ‘You are an absolute wreck; sit down before you put yourself in an early grave’.

Taking the hint, Taylor flopped down heavily, squinting against the bright sun as she tried to get herself comfortable. While she struggled to get her breath back, Diego sat himself down close by, patiently letting her recover.

“I swear the beaches in San Trobida aren’t so much of a work-out,” Taylor said apologetically. “Not as soft. I have actually gotten a lot fitter, if you can believe it.”

Diego put a hand on her shoulder. “I can actually. You did a pretty good job of covering up how much you were struggling those last few days you were here, but I really don’t think you were fooling anyone. You do look better. Last time I saw you, it was hard not to get the impression that one stiff wind could have you over.”

Taylor snorted with laughter. “Damn, and I thought I put up a good front.”

“Not remotely. You are incredible, my friend, but a talented actor you are not.”

This was wonderful. The warmth of the sun of her body, and the easiest of company. Taylor reclined back, her arms propping her up in the sand from behind.

“Well, now that I’m not having to focus on not falling over… how’ve you really been?”

Diego stared wistfully out to sea, all the while playing with a little lock of his hair that Varyyn had braided for him. “’How have I really been’ as in not the brush-off, ‘oh, I’m good’ answer?”

“Yep. And I promise I’ll keep my own bullshit in check as fair trade.”

“Okay. If that’s how we’re doing this.” Diego fiddled with his hair for a little while longer as he contemplated his answer… and where to start. “I’m good.” As Taylor rolled her eyes, he added quickly; “ I am good.”

“Yeah?”

“Going back home was the best thing I could have done; it made me realise just how much I actually belong here. I’ve found my people. And Varyyn. I don’t have to tell you how cut up I was to be away from him; you could see it. Heck, even Grandma Bhandarkar saw it-- I have never been force-fed so much in my life, and I grew up with my abuela!”

Taylor chuckled. She was eternally grateful that the extended Catalyst family had been there for Diego when she couldn’t be, through one of the most pivotal periods in his life. “Did you… did you manage to talk to your parents at all?” she ventured gently.

With a sad smile, Diego shook his head. “I called from Raj’s place. I did speak to my dad, and honestly it was better than I expected. But he said Mom’s not ready.”

“Oh, Diego….”

“No, I knew she wouldn’t be ready.” He gave a little sigh. “That big, scary conversation’s done now, though, and I feel kind of… lighter. Like… I can start to accept how things are. If Mom and Dad were ever going to accept who I am, you’d think the year and a half I’d disappeared off the face of the earth would have done the trick.”

Taylor put an arm around Diego as he sniffed. “You know it’s all them, yeah? None of this is on you.”

“Yeah… I know. I came back here and… Varyyn just looked at me like I was the most beautiful person in the world. I could not have felt more loved. So, yeah-- I’m good.”

“So,” Taylor said gently, “what happens next? Do you still want to come back to Hartfeld with us in September?”

Diego huffed out a long exhale. Now, that was a question.

“The only really honest answer I can give you is… I don’t know. Could not be more conflicted.”

“That’s… that’s fair.”

“I keep thinking about that vision we saw when I took my action figures from Vaanu.  I didn’t think it was possible for me to be that comfortable in my own skin, but it wasn’t like I was just seeing it-- I could feel it.”

“Yeah. It was kind of, just… radiating off you. You were just one-hundred percent genuine Diego, no holes barred… and everyone just loved you for it.”

“Look, I know that whole thing was just Vaanu trying to manipulate you into sacrificing youself--”

“Diego--”

“No, it’s okay. Because even if that’s all it was, it doesn’t matter. The more time I’m here with Varyyn… and people are respecting me as me-- you should see the queues of kids that form when I re-tell the original Star Wars trilogy….”

Taylor chuckled fondly.

“...The more I realise that, actually, that could be me. If I wanted it.”

“That really could be you. Without a shadow of a doubt. It would just mean…”

“Leaving Varyyn? Shattering both our hearts into a million pieces? Yeah, that’s the sticking point.”

Putting her head on Diego’s shoulder, Taylor offered what support she could. “What… what does he think?”

“He really loves me, so he’s unhelpfully understanding about the whole thing. It would be so much easier to know what I should do if he’d just say he’d rather I stay here!”

“So inconsiderate.”

“But, well, he said how much I light up when I talk about what I saw in that vision. And he lights up when he talks about that,” Diego said with a resigned laugh. “He says if I stay here, I shouldn’t be giving up every part of me.”

“He’s right,” Taylor said. “It’s you he fell in love with, and it’s you the hordes of Vaanti children seek out whenever they need smiles put on their faces. One way or another, I think you should always feed the real you. ‘Cause that guy’s pretty great.”

Diego glanced away, bashful, but unable to hide his smile. Again, he started playing with his hair.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough, Taylor. How about it’s your turn. Do you have a plan? I guess Vaanu didn’t bother showing you what a future on Earth could look like, hey?”

Taylor gave a soft humph. “No, they certainly did not. That’s something I’m just going to have to figure out myself.” She frowned. “They just showed me enough to put the pressure of ensuring the happiness of everyone I love on my shoulders,” she said bitterly.

Catching her tone, Diego raised an eyebrow. “That’s really getting to you.”

“Yeah,” she heaved. For a moment, she considered what she wanted to share. “Look, I haven’t exactly talked about this before…. All those visions I saw, just about all of them showed you guys rocking your dream careers. Except for, well….” She trailed off, sadly.

“Except for Estela and Aleister, right? Now you mention it, that does kinda say a lot about the impact Rourke had.”

“Exactly. It makes me so… so angry,” she said, than added with a dry laugh, “I don’t have the energy to be angry. Seeing you all die in my dreams doesn’t help either; all I can think is that he did all that. ”

“So, you’ve put it out there now. Maybe that’ll help you move past it?”

“I sure hope so. Letting that fester isn’t going to be healthy for me, and it sure as hell won’t do Estela any favours. She’s been amazing. There’s been so much she’s had to move through. I think I’ve been so focused on her that it only just recently sank in how much I’m simmering in hate for that bastard. And I don’t want to let it out and feed into her own feelings. Does… that make sense?”

“That sounds pretty natural,” Diego assured. “Being protective of your family is pretty much wired into you; kinda makes sense that it would get you all fired up-- and that you want to shield Estela from even more hurt and anger. I’m here, you know. If ever you need a best friend to off-load on; I’m your man.”

“Thanks,” Taylor said softly, and boy, did she mean it. A little smile came to her face at the sound of Furball yipping as he chased a euphoric Fenix up and down the shoreline. Bad feelings passed quickly, for there was just too much beauty in the world she had fought for and won.  “All things considered, I’m doing really well. Since I ramped up the self-care, I’m getting less nightmares-- I know they’re not proper nightmares, it’s just my brain replaying memories that aren’t even all mine. But they’ve gotten better.”

Diego shook his head, incredulous. “Honestly, I don’t know how you managed to sleep with that going on at all.”

“With great difficulty is how,” Taylor laughed. “Poor Estela is now pretty used to me waking her up, screaming and crying.” She smiled softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without her; she has this magic way of just… chasing away all the horrors. I guess it’s because I feel safe when she’s holding me.”

“N’aww!” Diego’s eye twinkled. “I really am the best wingman around. I’ll happily accept tips for match-making services given.”

Taylor snorted. “I feel like we can take some of the credit, but fine, thanks for the help. I’ve seen hundreds of different versions of me and Estela falling in love… and it’s surprising how many times it was you who gave me the push.”

“So, you really do owe me one.”

“I really do.”

Fenix ran over, panting heavily, and flopped down into Taylor’s lap. A little way behind, Furball trotted after.

“Hey, Diego?”

“You’re missing your buff wife?”

“That, and I’m absolutely starving. You wanna head back to Catalyst Village?”

Diego looked out at the darkening sky. This day had flown. No doubt, the days to come would fly too, and in no time at all he’d be faced with leaving Varyyn… again. Then his stomach growled loudly.

“Apparently, you’re not the only one. Come on-- d’you need a piggy-back?”

Indignant, Taylor plopped Fenix down in the sand and got to her feet. “I certainly do not.”

“Okay… reframing that. Would you like a piggy-back?”

Ooh, that smirk. “Oh, all right,” she relented. “In the time it would’ve taken me to walk back, I’d have already died of hunger.”

So, they made their way back up the beach; Diego giving a more-weary-than-she’d-care-to-let-on Taylor… and their two furry companions leading the charge, drawn home by the scent on the wind of food being cooked over an open fire.

___________________________

“A toast!” Aleister pronounced loudly, holding aloft a glass of Breath of the Moon. As his friends and family around the fire raised their matching cocktails, he thrust his own glass ever-higher with slightly-tipsy gusto. “To new beginnings! To reuniting with comrades! To bringing about justice!”

Estela leaned over and whispered in Taylor’s ear. “You see why I thought you should only take a little sip of this stuff?”

Taylor sniggered. “I’d make a toast to the fact that we have a whole house to ourselves again.It’s gonna be a lot easier to get our sex on when your brother and sister-in-law aren’t in the next room.”

Giving her wife an exaggerated wink, Estela huddled closer, delighting in the giggle she stirred. Somehow, everything felt easier here. It was is if just to be in this place brought her back to the best of herself, to the sense of peace within herself that had once felt like an impossibility. Now, with Taylor, in their home and surrounded by people they loved, it was an inevitability. This time would refresh her-- it would them both-- and ready them for the greater steps that lay ahead.

It seemed the feeling was catching,for everyone was relaxed and laughing as they cooked skewers over the crackling fire and sipped their cocktails. In the firelight, Varyyn’s face seemed to glow with affection for his beloved husband beside him-- who himself was bubbling over with the simple pleasure of being surrounded by friends. Estela wondered about the two of them… what the future might hold. A year could go by so quickly-- she learned that the had way when she’d been counting down to Taylor’s self-sacrifice-- but away from the one you loved, time would stretch agonisingly. She did not envy the choice Diego was faced with; that they were now with him to offer support though that… that mattered.

Opposite them, Jake was back to ribbing Aleister, something even more fun now that the target was a little sozzled. No amount of back-and-forth teasing could hide the genuine --rather unlikely-- friendship that had formed; Aleister, blessed with both wealth and contacts in high places, had made himself a pivotal force in the fight to clear Jake’s name. The more Estela had gotten to know her unexpected sibling, the more it became obvious to her that at his heart, Aleister was driven by the same protectiveness of those dear to him that powered her. It was something, she’d come to realise, that Rourke had cemented into them both-- not through any passing of genes, but by fierce resistance to the poison he’d inflicted. It had taken time… and it had been painful, but in their budding kinship, Estela had found undeniable comfort.

Taylor took Estela’s hand, and laid a weary head on her shoulder.

“Hey.”

“Hey, you,” Estela laughed softly. She could feel the smile on Taylor’s face; so open and radiant, full of tenderness for the people surrounding her, and it spoke wonders.

With her free hand, Taylor gently chinked her glass to Estela’s.

“Cheers. To being home.”

“To being home.”