#she felt it would be a hazard if there were a house fire and I needed to leave the room quickly

[mabith]

Today I am 39 years old, but oh to be nine again and insisting on spending hours in the yard wearing a snorkle and goggles and petting the animals in the brief year when those awesome purple boots fit me.

[gallusrostromegalus]

the 'Kon :)' in the list of things you're pleased about in aeiwam has be EXCITED please tell us more (if you want to)!

Soon after Masaki died, Isshin Kurosaki moved his family. It's mostly because the original clinic didn't feel haunted- if Masaki's spirit were still here, Isshin would know what to do, but instead he felt like his heels were dogged by the hole where she used to be.

It didn't hurt that the new place was larger, in a better school district, and closer to his friend Ryukken. He's almost feeling cheerful about the new place when Ichigo runs up the stairs and from room to room before calling dibs on one, because he's a big kid now and doesn't want to sleep where he has to listen to his dad snoring all night >:(.

Isshin felt slightly less cheerful when he looked out the big window in Ichigo's room to determine if he needs to put up some child safety grates, and realized their new neighbor was a taxidermist.

"I feel like it gives them a sort of dignity- A Life After Life, if you will." she said when he went by to make sure his neighbor was only eccentric and not something out of a horror movie. He wasn't entirely sure which, actually- Ms. Tanaka was an octogenarian with skin like tissue paper and a back like a question mark, but her living room was a veritable zoo of reconstituted animals, many of them former pets, if the number of domestic cats was anything to go by.

"Oh. Yeah!" Isshin grinned, terrified, and was struck by the idea of some goon in the 12th division slavering in the afterlife, desperate for her to shuffle off the mortal coil and bring her undoubted skills with dead bodies to R&D. "We've always been very spiritual people."

(Continued under the readmore)

"Oh, just like the nice young man who used to live in your house!" said Ms. Tanaka, sitting down in her armchair that was adorned by an ostentatious past-tense peacock perched on the back. "Odd fellow. Worked nights, spoke like he was born in the Sengoku Era or something, but very nice."

"He's BEAUTIFUL!" said Ichigo, staring in awe at an enormous Ginger Tabby Cat by the window, mounted in repose on a emerald velvet cat bed. Ms. Tanaka had done an excellent job conveying a sense of benevolent egotism on his whiskered face, but Ichigo's growing fascination with the Macabre was beginning to worry his father- Ichigo had seen the taxidermy stoat in the back window and INSISTED on coming along.

"Isn't he?" beamed Ms. Tanaka. "His name is Bostov! He was my very best friend for many years."

"Wow! Can I pet him?" Ichigo asked, eyes wide with delight.

"Ichigo, that's uh- that's not a real kitty-" Isshin began to sputter.

"Of course he's a real kitty!" Ms. Tanaka laughed, a noise like an ungreased gate. "You can pet him if you're very gentle." Ichigo stroked the deceased animal with exceptional delicacy for an overexcited Kindergartner. "He's so soft!" he gasped.

"Do you like him?" asked Ms. Tanaka.

"I LOVE HIM!" Said Ichigo, cheeks flushed and eyes bright for the first time in months now. Perhaps having a distant relative of the Addams family for a neighbor isn't so bad, if her creepy hobby cheers Ichigo up... Isshin sighed.

"In that case, why don't you take him home with you?" Smiled Ms. Tanaka. "I'm sure he'll be a good friend to you too."

"UH." Isshin blurted out, nearly spilling his tea on a flock of quail under the side-table.

"I have SO MANY friends in my home with me- it's bordering on a fire hazard!" Ms. Tanaka chuckled. "I'd be delighted to send him to a home where he'll be loved. Please- consider him my housewarming present!"

"CAN WE? CAN WE TAKE HIM HOME? PLEASE DAD??PLEEEEEEEASE-!!" Ichigo asked, stars in his eyes.

Isshin froze, horrified at the prospect of having... That. In his house. Watching him. ...and at the same time, completely unwilling to dash his little boy's dreams.

"yEaH oKaY." Isshin grimaced, soaked in a cold sweat.

*****

Bostov The Former Cat was bad enough, but at least the taxidermy beast 'lived' on Ichigo's bedroom dresser and not down in the living room where Isshin would have to look at it's green glass eyes, which seemed to follow him around the room. It wasn't right having a hollow thing in the house like that- any wandering spirit could decide to climb in there! He resolved to have it warded, but Kisuke said he was on a trip to the Caribbean for "Botanical Research" , and wouldn't be back until "After the Big Holiday on the 20th". Isshin hung up the phone, groaned and rubbed his face. It was fairly late, and he was still at the kitchen table, going through all of the licensing paperwork to get the clinic up and running.

"Hey Dad?" Ichigo asked, holding up a small plastic toy. "What's 'Soul Candy'?"

"Soul Cand-?" Isshin frowned, turned to look at the toy and nearly jumped out of his skin, swiping it away from the boy. "WHERE DID YOU FIND THIS? DID YOU EAT ANY??"

"...it was upstairs, in the back of my closet." Ichigo pouted. "-and no, I didn't eat any strange closet candy. I'm not stupid."

"Oh thank the Gods..." Isshin sighed, sitting back down at the table and shaking the small, duck-headed pill dispenser. Empty. "-I'm sorry I yelled Ichigo, but this is Very Dangerous stuff."

Ichigo arched an incredulous Eyebrow at him. "Really? Is this the same kind of dangerous that the half my Halloween candy you confiscated and ate was?"

"Ah- well. No. That was Dad Tax. This is actually dangerous. Here, come sit with me a minute." he pulled out the other chair at the kitchen table. "Remember how I told you about the ghost that lived in my attic when I was your age?"

"The Shinigami?" Ichigo asked.

Isshin did not *enjoy* lying to his children, but a little knowledge was a dangerous thing, and not enough even more so, so he'd concocted a little fantasy to explain why he knew all about ghosts and why the children never saw their grandparents, so he could tell them about the dangers of this world without telling them too much.

"That's right- His name was Kaien Shiba, and he was a Soul Reaper. At night, he'd turn into a ghost and leave his body behind, and go escort spirits to the afterlife or fight hollows." Isshin said. he'd named the fictional soul reaper after his favorite nephew in a fit of inspiration- he'd started telling Ichigo a tale from his days as a Shinigami one night after slightly too many drinks and had to convince Ichigo that that was only a distant acquaintance.

"...Like what killed Mom." Ichigo muttered.

"Um. Yeah." Isshin nodded.

They were silent for a moment.

"-Anyway, the way he turned into a ghost was that he'd swallow one of these little candies that would come in these tubes-" Isshin pulled the duck's head back to show Ichigo the mechanism. "-and Poof! he'd jump out of his body as a ghost so he could use magic to save people! But-there was a little soul inside the candy that would come out and take care of his body while he was away! Like a babysitter, but for his own butt! After a few hours, the little soul would stop working, and Kain would be home to climb back in."

Ichigo blinked at the mechanism, thinking. "So. There's a little person in these candies?"

"If there were any in here, yeah." Said Isshin. "They're not like. Whole people. Just little collages of behaviors and phrases. You know, like the fake voice that talks on the phone when you call to refill a prescription!" Ichigo frowned, considering something. "...There weren't any candies in this thing, were there?" Isshin asked, suspicious.

"No." Said Ichigo, frowning at him. "It'd be really lonely, being just a little soul, stuck in a candy, wouldn't it?" he asked.

"I suppose so, but I don't think the little souls are aware while they're in there. It's like being asleep for them." Isshin shrugged, lying to himself as much as his son about that.

Ichigo still frowned. "...What happens if the candy goes into a body without a soul in it? Like a dead body?" "Huh." Isshin frowned. "I dunno, actually. I guess the little soul would run around and operate it for a while, until it faded out, like it did with a normal body?"

Ichigo nodded, still preoccupied.

"Why?" Isshin tried.

"...No reason." Ichigo muttered, kicking his little feet. "Just thinking."

"Alright. Promise me if you find anything else weird or see any random candies to not touch them and tell me right away, okay?"

"Yeah okay." Ichigo nodded, only sort of paying attention. "I'm gonna go to bed. G'night dad." he muttered, getting up from the table and handing the dispenser to Isshin before giving him a quick hug and stomping up the stairs.

Isshin watched him go, aching a bit. I wondered how old he was gonna be when he started keeping secrets from me. He sighed, looking down at the Soul Candy Dispenser. Not that I'm being a Paragon of Honesty for him to follow...

---

"GIRLS? ICHIGO? HAVE ANY OF YOU SEEN MY STETHOSCOPE?" Isshin hollered, searching fruitlessly under the couch cushions.

"NO!" Hollered Karin from where she and Yuzu were playing in the small front yard.

"TRY ICHIGO'S ROOM, HE TOOK A BUNCH OF LAUNDRY UP TO SORT." called Yuzu.

"THANKS GIRLS!" he called back stomping up the stairs. Ichigo was at karate- he'd finally returned to classes, or at least, Tatsuki had finally physically dragged him back into the Dojo. "Man I hope I didn't put it through the washing machine-" he muttered, opening the door to the boy's room and started searching through the basket of laundry on his bed.

Isshin stopped, and stood up, frowning around the room. Something was off.

Ichigo was a tidy boy, somehow, and his room was usually in order save for whatever video game he had out to play and the bed he never made but... Isshin turned fully around trying to figure out what was off before his eyes finally landed on the top of the Dresser.

The Emerald Green Velvet Cat bed, home of Bostov The Cat, was empty.

"Did he take the cat out of the bed to play with?" Isshin wondered aloud, hoping that that, and not several other horrible scenarios, was what was happening. He could hear Karin and Yuzu giggling through the window, and he peeked down at them- they appeared to be having a tea party on the thin strip of grass, and the guest of honor amongst the dolls and stuffed animals was a familiar-looking ginger tabby. "Oh! The GIRLS took him out to play with." he sighed with relief, leaning against the window to watch them.

...and watch a strange man approaching down the street, who stopped at the garden fence. Isshin frowned- maybe he was just watching the girls play, in a normal, wholesome way like he was doing right now. ...or he could be taking candy out of his pocket and waving the girls to come through the gate.

Isshin jumped on the bed, tore open the window with such force it jumoed out of it's track and was halfway out to jump down at the man from the second floor when the most EXTRAORDINARY thing happened.

Bostov, Who by all accounts had been deceased for the better part of a decade and was made of little more than a skin and some glass stretched over a wood-and-cotton frame, Suddenly leapt up from his chair, claws and teeth drawn like swords and leapt upon the man, battering him visciously with a stream of einvective so foul it made Isshin's barrack-hardened linguistic sensibilities blush, before chasing him back down the street like a short, furious, ass-seeking missile.

"GIRLS!" he shouted, jumping down anyway. "-ARE YOU OKAY?"

"DON'T GET MAD AT ICHIGO OR KON!!" Shouted Yuzu, tears in her eyes.

"...ichigo or who?" Isshin blinked.

"Way to spill the beans, Yuzu." Karin groaned. "Yeah Dad, we're FINE- Kon was here, he'll beat the crap out of anything."

"Who's Kon?" Isshin repeated.

"HEY DAD." Shouted Ichigo, skidding into the garden in his karate gi, and out of breath, clutching an unconvincingly stiff Mr. Bostov under his arm. "SO. UH- WELL MR. BOSTOV CAN MOVE NOW. FOR SOME REASON."

"Uh-huh?" Isshin glared at the cat, who glanced away nervously. "Why do you think that is?"

"...it's a Christmas Miracle?" Tried Ichigo.

"Ichigo, it's fucking April." groaned Karin.

"...Passover?" tried Ichigo.

"-This wouldn't have anything to do with that Soul Candy Dispenser you found, would it?"

"uhhhhhhh..." said Ichigo. Honesty might not have been one of the boy's virtues, but at least he was a terrible liar.

"PLEASE DADDY DON'T GET ANGRY!!" Sobbed Yuzu, throwing herself around his calf and wailing. "MR. KON IS THE MOST NICEST KITTY IN THE WHOLE WORLD! HE PLAYS TEA TIME AND DRESS-UP WITH US AND TELLS JOKES AND CHASES AWAY DOGS AND SCARY MEN AND HE ALWAYS WAKES UP ICHIGO WHEN HE'S HAVING A NIGHTMARE-!"

"Yeah, actually, Kon's like. the first thing to make me laugh since. Well." Mumbled Karin, plodding over to Isshin's other leg and leaning heavily on him. "Please? he's weird, but he's a good guy."

Isshin sighed, then glared back down at the cat. "Alright. Who are you?" he demanded.

Ichigo and the formerly immobile cat glanced at each other and the feline unfolded as Ichigo set him down, shaking himself out and sitting on the walkway.

"So, uh- Hi. My name's Kon. Kon Bostov, if you wanna be formal, in honor of the beast whose body I currently inhabit." He nodded, waving a paw evocatively. "-And, uh. Well, how much do you know about the afterlife?"

"-Being from a long line of psychic mediums and prone to hauntings, my parents rented out our attic to a Shinigami when I was a child, and he told me pretty much everything." Said Isshin, and Kon winced. "So. Is 'Kon' short for 'Mod Konpaku'?"

"Ehh... well, Yeah." Kon winced. "-But hey! It wasn't my idea to be cooked up in a lab by some maniac and then put to death minutes later for something I didn't even do!" he snarled, fur bristling.

"What?" asked Karin.

"Kids I- Look, I didn't mean to lie, there just wasn't a good time to bring it up but. Technically, I'm wanted by the law. I'm an artificial soul created for battle to be put into dead bodies, but literally four and a half minutes after I woke up, the soul society- where all the Shinigami are from- condemned me to die, because they didn't like how strong some of the other Mod Souls were. I managed to roll myself off of the table and into a box of normal bodyminders to hide, Got put in a dispenser and then the shinigami that had been here accidentally left me behind." Kon explained.

"COOL!" Shouted Karin.

"NOT COOL. BAD!" Shouted Isshin. "Okay, okay I- I mean you're right, I never- I mean, the way Kaien told it, the whole Mod Soul program was pretty shady and it sounded really unfair. But why would a Shinigami just leave an important and dangerous tool lying around?"

"...I don't know how much spiritual sense you have my guy, but this town doesn't have a Hollow problem so much as the Hollowpocalylse goin' on." Kon grimaced. "-I really hope that guy's okay, he seemed pretty cool from what I could tell. I don't actually remember hearing him get called back to soul society." Kon muttered. "-Anyway, about three weeks ago, your brother found me in the dispenser in the back of his closet and put my candy body into this taxidermy cat, and I've been hanging out with the kids since then! You know, like a cat is supposed to do!"

Isshin stared blankly at Kon. The girls hugged his legs, lips wobbling, but he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, firming up his resolve- no matter how nice he seemed, a Mod Soul was a dangerous thing- and one crafty enough to live right under his nose for the better part of a month? No, absolutely n-

Isshin opened his eyes to see Ichigo had picked up Kon, cradling the cat to his tiny body, eyes wide and beginning to glisten with tears.

"...Ah. What the hell. You make the kids laugh." Isshin sighed, and all four cheered, thanking him profusely and promising to be extra-good and take good care of Kon- "But you put so much as a Whisker out of line and you're in deep trouble, got it?" Isshin leaned into the cat's face, scowling menacingly and shaking his finger at Kon.

"Understood sir!" Kon Saluted. "So when's dinner? Ichigo's been sneaking me scraps but I could really go for some chicken, or maybe ham-" he asked, tail thrashing excitedly.

"You can eat?" Isshin asked. "I thought you were all... Whatever they stuff taxidermy animals with?"

"-Might've been, but I'm all complete now? Fluff, guts, claws-the works!" Kon shrugged, hopping up on Isshin's shoulder. "-Between you an' me, I ain't even neutered! But that ain't a problem- Plenty of hot pussy around, if you know what I mean, especially that sweet little tuxedo bobtail just up the street- Me-YOW, huh?"

"Oh gods." Groaned Isshin, covering his face. "What am I letting into my house?"

"An intact male cat is called a 'Tom' Dad." Karin called over her shoulder.

"Alright Kon, a few rules- No more swearing in front of the kids, no bringing ladies around the house and for goodness sake DON'T TELL ANYONE YOU'RE HERE!" Isshin snarled at him.

"Alright, alright!" Kon sighed, rolling his eyes. "Out of curiosity though- What rank was your guy Kaien?"

"Hm?" Isshin asked.

"Only that I thought only the captains and a few lieutenants ever knew about project Spearhead." Kon glanced at Isshin, arching an orange-striped brow at him. "-funny thing, having a seated officer doing routine patrols, isn't it?"

"I dunno?" Shrugged Isshin, trying to keep his shoulders from tensing up, "-He didn't actually tell me all that much about how the soul society is governed."

"Huh." Kon nodded, smirking just a bit. "Interestin' guy, this Kaien. You should tell me about him sometime!"

"KOOOOONN!" Yuzu called. "My Dollie's shoe got under the fridge!"

"Coming Sweetie!" Kon called, jumping off Isshin's shoulder to reach his skinny little cat arm under the fridge and swat the missing accessory out from under the appliance. Yuzu applauded with delight and hugged him, laughing for the first time in ages.

Isshin watched them play for a bit and sighed. He not a bad guy, this Kon. All the same- Isshin took out his phone and dialed a number.

"~Urahara Shoten, home of Karkura Town's finest Candies, Cell Phones and Card Games! I'm on sabbatical 'til the end of the month or so, so if it's an emergency, hang up and call the Kurosaki Clinic! Or die! If it's not an emergency, leave me a message with what you need and I'll hook you up when I get back! Bye!~" Urahara's voicemail recording sing-sang over the line.

"Kisuke. It's me, Isshin. You will not fucking believe what my kids found in the new house. Call me as soon as you get back."

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

Could I request Dadvi after the war, (wishful thinking, he just needed to heal and learn how to walk again after I healed) he has children outside of paradise? He fall in love with someone in the medical field. Please and thank you

think my heart would melt if i ever saw levi playing with his toddler ksjdfksdjf

Needy Little Brat | 2K Follower Event | Post-War Dadvi Drabble

✧ word count ➼ ~800 ✧ notes ➼ post-war, fluff, my headcanon that levi can still walk but with a limp and uses the wheelchair as a mobility aid

You stepped out of the shower, pulling your shirt on over your head, immediately frowning once you heard your husband cursing across the hallway in the living room.

You walked over to see what it was that got Levi grumpy, knowing that it could range from something as simple as his tea leaves being steeped for too long all the way up to something catastrophic like the house getting set on fire.

You sighed as you saw him walking across the room from the dining table over towards the couch. His limp was a bit more noticeable than usual and you could see the small frown line on his forehead that resulted from him trying to ignore the pain that was undoubtedly shooting through his leg.

You remembered how stubborn Levi was when the war first ended. He had accepted the idea that his knee would never fully heal, but struggled with gauging where his limit was in terms of pain tolerance. Luckily, he had you to call him out on his bullshit, noting that if he kept pushing himself, then he was going to end up hurting himself more and end up being even more pissed than he already was. Plus, the fact that you were a combat medic helped with navigating his recovery.

Still, he was stubborn and refused to stay seated even though he was clearly in pain.

"You know, if you need to sit down or use the wheelchair, then quit being stubborn and just use it," you insisted with a sigh, unfolding his wheelchair and wheeling it over.

"Kinda hard to sit still when there's this little shit running around," he grumbled.

You followed his gaze and then understood why he was forcing himself to walk around despite his knee likely flaring up.

While your child had been calmly playing near the couch when you had stepped into the shower, she was now unsteadily wandering around the living room, with no regard for any tripping hazards or the coffee table that she was now tall enough to bump into.

She finally noticed Levi glaring at her, with her face lighting up as she began to run towards the two of you, immediately tripping over her own two feet.

Before you even got a chance to react, Levi had already leapt forward to catch her so that she didn't faceplant into the ground.

While you could clearly tell that he was in pain from the sudden movement, your daughter clearly did not put the pieces together, beginning to babble as she grabbed at Levi's arms.

Sighing again, you bent over and picked her up from the ground, motioning your head towards the wheelchair to indicate to Levi that you had brought it out for him if he needed it.

Now that he no longer had to worry about your child accidentally hurting herself for running around before she could properly keep her balance, he got into the mobility aid, clearly exasperated by the fact that your child was just as stubborn as he was when it came to moving around when she wasn't supposed to.

Still, he couldn't blame her. She was a kid exploring the world, but he'd be damned if he didn't admit to himself that he felt wholly unprepared when it came to having an actual child that wasn't just the 104th goofing off or hanging out around Gabi or Falco that were already able to take care of themselves.

His eyes flashed up towards you, his gaze falling on the toddler in your arms that was now looking more distressed as she reached out for him, trying to wriggle out of your arms.

"Alright, alright, calm down," you scolded, securing your grip on her so that she didn't fall headfirst back down to the ground.

"She's just as clingy as you are," he muttered, the corner of his lip raising into a small smirk as he saw the somewhat bashful look on your face as your cheeks began to heat up.

"Well, she's just as stubborn as you are," you retorted as you plopped her into his lap after he got settled.

She immediately calmed down, giggling as Levi began to poke at her belly after calling her a "needy little brat", which she found absolutely hilarious despite not knowing what he was actually saying.

You watched as she began trying to grab at Levi's hand, which he was drawing back at the last second, before going back in and allowing her to grab at him again, before drawing his hand back again, unable to hide the amused expression steadily forming on his face. Eventually, he gave in, allowing her to firmly grab at his thumb.

"Quick reflexes, this one," he pointed out, giving a nod of approval, which made you snort in disbelief.

"Wonder where she gets that from."

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

reader pronouns: she/her warnings: allusions to past trauma (no specific details)

”Might as well settle in,” Daryl drawled, dropping his pack and testing the stiffness of the dusty couch. “We ain’t goin’ anywhere ‘til it’s light out tomorrow.”

You hummed your agreement and turned away from the boarded up window just as Daryl was flopping back. You gave him a surprised look. “Are you actually gonna sleep?” you asked him.

”Me? Hell no,” he growled. “But might as well be comfortable anyway.” He considered you for a moment. “You wanna sleep? I’ll get up. Ya can have this couch.”

You shook your head and sank down in an arm chair next to him. “No. I won’t be able to sleep...”

”Mmm,” he hummed. “Well—could be worse. Could just be one of us stuck here alone. Ain’t ya glad I didn’t let ya go by yerself?”

You smiled at him and he glanced over and met your eyes. “Yeah. I am.”

He nodded his agreement and settled in more deeply to the couch, one hand resting on his chest and the other tugging at the frayed edge of a patch on his pants. He could feel your eyes on him still and eventually met them again. “What?” he asked.

”Nothing,” you said.

Daryl rolled his eyes at you. “I know that look. It ain’t nothin’.”

You laughed lightly and his heart jumped at the sound. “Tell me something I don’t know about you,” you said, leaning forward. Daryl swung his legs off the couch and planted them on the floor, sitting up again and peering at you. 

”Why?”

”Come on! It’ll help pass the time.”

He ran a hand back through his hair and sighed. “I dunno...”

”Sure you do,” you encouraged him. “I’ll tell you something about me after!”

For some reason this made Daryl smile and now your heart skipped a beat. God, you loved his smile. It was so rare. “ ‘M pretty sure I already know everythin’ about ya,” he quipped. “Ya talk a lot when yer drunk...”

"Excuse me! You’ve seen me drunk once,” you shot back. “I’m sure I didn’t talk that much.”

He laughed again. “ S’alrigh’. I didn’t mind,” he drawled.”

”Quit dodging the question, Daryl!”

He sighed again and shook his hair out of his eyes. “Mmm. Alrigh’, fine... uhh—” He chewed thoughtfully on his bottom lip. He gulped. This felt strangely intimate. “When I was a kid, we had this big tree in the front yard—the house, ya know, before the fire... and there was a storm that blew down a squirrel nest. Had three kits in it. The mom must’a died, so me and Merle—we hid ‘em in the garage and bottle fed ‘em kitten formula he shoplifted until they were big enough to be on their own. For the rest of the time we lived there, they’d come down and eat peanuts outta our hands, hang out on our shoulders...” When he hazarded a glance up at you again, your expression was so soft his whole body felt warm. 

“That’s so sweet... That might literally be the cutest thing I’ve ever heard,” you said fondly. Your eyes seemed to be smiling at him.

“Yeah, it was—was nothin’. Wasn’t like I was just gonna let ‘em die, ya know?” You nodded, your eyes bright and fixed on him. He cleared his throat nervously. “Alrigh’, what ‘bout you?”

“Oh, no, no, no,” you said, waving him off. “You already know everything about me,” you said sarcastically. “Tell you what; why don’t you tell me something about me that only you would know? Since you’re such a smartass...”

Daryl chuckled a little. “Fine.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck thoughtfully. “Ya used to be scared of motorcycles.”

”It’s not like that was hard to figure out!” you laughed.

”I ain’t done—Blueberries are yer favorite food. When ya were like ten, ya had to get stitches in yer right knee from a bicycle accident. Ya never learned how to swim—”

You were staring at him in surprise. “Okay, but all these are things I could have told anyone when I was drunk. I said tell me something only you would know.”

”Mmm,” he hummed. There was another long thoughtful pause before he spoke again and suddenly the room felt thick and heavy. “I dunno what exactly happened for this to be true but... ya dun trust men easy. I’ve—I’ve seen it. Even Rick, ya weren’t sure about at first. Ya saw the real Shane from a mile away...” 

You gulped at the sudden tightness that had materialized in your throat. You thought you were better at hiding it. But of course Daryl would notice. Of course he would. 

“‘S’part of why I feel so lucky I guess—that ya—that ya trust me.”

You nodded and managed to unlock yourself from your frozen state. “I do. I do trust you.”

“Good. ‘Cuz I would never, never do anythin’ to hurt ya. And if anybody else tries to—if anybody else does, well, I’ll deal with ‘em.”

Your fun little game to pass the time had suddenly turned wholly serious. You nodded. “I know.”

Daryl nodded again. “Good.”

You ducked his gaze, feeling suddenly overwhelmed at what he’d inferred from simply watching your behavior thoughtfully, but also from his protectiveness and his goodness. “I’m lucky to have you, Daryl. I mean that.”

He mumbled some vague response and flopped back down on the couch. “Oh, and yer slightly dyslexic.”

You laughed a little and sat back in your own chair. “You win.”

Prompt: “Tell me something about me that only you would know.”

[enbysanavi]

Resident Lover: Angie, Daniela, Donna

The trio of roommates have a tradition. A tradition where nobody gets left alone in their time of need.

Warnings: mention of death briefly

Call it a sixth sense but Daniela could easily sense when her two best friends were feeling off. For some reason it happened on the same day. Daniela knew today to be the anniversary of when Angie’s parents died and she put a alcohol ban on the house for the time being for Angie’s safety. Her other roomie on the other hand had just been getting worse as time went on.

It started only a week ago and she noticed the change from the happy go lucky roomie that she cared for into the roomie that she was concerned for. They just didn’t seem to stop and kept going until they dropped. It was unhealthy and Daniela knew exactly what the two needed to cheer each other up.

Daniela spent the time in between classes stealing pillows and blankets from the other’s rooms and making a sort of nest. She scrounged around and found a nice array of snacks that she knew that they all liked.

Call her roommate of the year because the lights were dimmed and a movie was ready. It was the epitome of comfort. She knew that the over head lights were a no go so soft warm lights and unsented candles for her roomie with a sensitive nose brightened up the dorm.

Angie was the first to arrive, her usual cheery attitude was filled as she opened the door and dumped her bag near the door. She then looked up with confusion before looking at Daniela. “What’s all this?” She asked as she walked further into the dorm.

Daniela smiled brightly and gestured to the best of pillows on the couch. “I noticed that my two favourite roomies have been down in the dumps and I thought a night together as roommates would help.”

Angie couldn’t help it as a small smile crept onto her face. “That doesn’t include alcohol does it?”

Daniela shook her head before taking Angie’s hands and guiding her to sit down on the couch nest before sitting next to her. “Now we just have to wait for roommate number three.”

“We might be waiting for a while.” Angie said before she pulled out her phone. “I heard that they were spending time with Donna… then again maybe we should pick them up.”

Daniela thought about it. The three all seemed to be in need of comfort and she surely wouldn’t mind inviting one more person. “I think that’s a great idea. The more the merrier!”

One thing that Daniela swore was to never let Angie drive again. She was a hazard on the road and drove like she was gunning away from cops. So Daniela at the wheel was the best course of action as she drove the two over to Donna’s flower shop.

Angie fished the keys out of her pocket when the two noticed that the store said closed. “Donna is probably in the nursery.” She said as she lead Daniela through the silent and still flower shop.

When the two entered the nursery they instantly noticed their third roommate and Donna sitting with no space between the two. Their roomie rested their head on Donna’s as the two had their hands clasped together while their free hands held cups of tea. It would be adorable and Daniela would’ve snapped a picture if it wasn’t for the distant look in both of their eyes.

Angie walked over to Donna and crouched down in front of her with a look of concern in her eyes. She gently took the cup of tea from Donna’s hands before speaking to her softly.

Daniela took it upon herself to sit beside her roomie and nudge them gently with her shoulder. They blinked a few times before looking at her. “Dani? Fancy seeing you here.” They sighed before squeezing Donna’s hand reassuringly.

Daniela smiled softly. “Well I did have this amazing surprise planned for us roommates and now an amazing gardener. I promise it isn’t that bad as last time.”

Her roomie chuckled slightly. “Last time you did a night out it ended in the stove catching on fire.” They felt Donna look at them with worry.

“Fire?” She asked quietly.

The three roommates exchanged looks before laughing in various degrees. “It was only a small fire, auntie.” Angie said with a reassuring smile that did not reassure Donna in the slightest.

“Angie,” Their roomie sighed. “The fire department was called because you set fireworks off and shoved them into the fridge.”

Donna’s head whipped around to look at Angie, momentarily letting go of their hand and crouching down to Angie’s level to put her hands on her shoulder. “You are banned from using fireworks.” She said seriously.

“What!” Angie shouted before apologising quickly when seeing the way that Donna flinched at the loud noise. “What.” She said in a hushed tone.

Daniela turned to her roommate and grinned at the interaction between the two. As Angie argued her point across that she should definitely be allowed to use fireworks, Donna argued back that it was a danger to everyone around her. It was nice.

“How long do you think they will go on for?” The roomie asked with a hushed tone as they leaned over to Daniela who was watching the two fondly.

“Probably a few more minutes unless we take the both of them back to the apartment.” She said with a giggle.

“That would be nice.”

That’s how that day ended. The four of them were on the couch with her roomie pressed comfortably into the corner and leaning into Donna’s embrace while Angie sat next to Daniela on the other side of the couch. The four had a few blankets covering their legs while bowls of popcorn were traded around the group. The movie played in front of the group but it wasn’t long before they started to nod off.

Donna and her assistant fell asleep cuddled together which was just impossible to not take a photo of. Angie fell asleep with her legs thrown over Daniela’s lap and promptly knocked out ten minutes into the film, leaving Daniela the last to be awake.

She looked at her roommates and her auntie. It was unfair that such good people had to go through whatever haunted their minds. She knew about Donna and Angie but her roomie. Her trusted friend. She knew nothing but she was determined to figure it out.

[disorganised-thoughtss]

For valentines I'd like to share a piece of a SeriRei vampire work in progress that's been on my brain recently. It's not super romantic atm but I feel like later on it has the chance to be.

(Roughly 1000 word wip below cut. There's a bit of talk about being interested in Reigen's neck and pulling him close so watch out if you don't like that.)

It was another ordinary day at Spirits & Such, or at least, it would have been if it wasn’t for Serizawa’s recent problem. To put it simply, Serizawa's eyes seemed to gravitate toward Reigen’s neck more than usual.

There was almost something hypnotic in it. Each time he couldn’t help imagining himself sinking his teeth in. He could almost feel it. The spring of soft flesh at his mercy. A thrumming sensation just beneath called to him. It was too tantalizing to ignore. It made him want to walk over, grab Reigen by the waist and then-

Serizawa shook his head. He lost count of how many times he had to shake those thoughts away since the work day began.

The thoughts were in no way appropriate. He was meant to be working and Reigen was his friend!

Serizawa swallowed the excess saliva coating his mouth but it still felt overcrowded, almost as if his canines grew overnight. There had to be something wrong with him. Was he sick? Maybe? His head was throbbing from the sunlight peeking through the blinds. He scolded himself for not checking his temperature before leaving the house.

Reigen looked up from the work on his desk. “Uh, want something Serizawa?” He asked, tilting his head.

“Well, uh,” Serizawa tried to ignore any and all thoughts of how inviting the newly exposed neck looked. “I’m starting to think I might be a little sick,” he gulped.

“Hmm you do seem a little pale. Mind if I check your temperature?”

“No, not at all.”

Reigen left his desk joined by the faint smell of incense that clung to his work suit. Once close, he placed the back of his hand on Serizawa’s forehead. It immediately recoiled. “Yikes, you’re ice cold! Wait here, I’m getting you one of my special healing teas.”

Serizawa didn't move from his desk. He knew that the teas could only do so much but the idea of drinking something warm felt like just the thing he needed. It would surely set his mind back onto a more productive (and less intimately decorated) track.

Reigen came back offering a hot mug of tea before adjusting the thermostat and making himself comfortable at his desk. He gave an almost guilt ridden look to Serizawa then awkwardly shuffled his chair to the window and closed the blinds just enough so they could still see.

Serizawa let his eyes adjust to the newly darkened office. His headache went away almost immediately. With his mind less crowded he stared at the cup in front of him. The steam rolled into the cool air rather cutely (almost like little clouds).

For some reason tea didn’t feel right, as if he was meant to be drinking something else. Was he craving coffee? It would be rude to refuse at this stage so he drank it anyway.

It left him feeling unsatisfied. His stomach twisted as he salivated once again. Maybe he was hungry?

The day continued as it typically would. A couple walk-ins arrived seeking Reigen’s expertise as Serizawa worked on papers and spoke to clients over the phone.

Soon after, Tome came into the office with her usual energy. She slung her school bag on the floor talking about something that happened at school. She didn't seem to care how dimly lit the office was, Serizawa supposed she was used to walking in mid “seance” where the room was a fire hazard of candles with no sunlight light.

Tome took one look at Serizawa then paused mid-sentence. “Serizawa what happened?” She questioned pointing to the plaster on his neck.

“Oh um…” Serizawa trailed off, unsure the most appropriate way to say a vampire cosplayer bit him. The whole ordeal was rather embarrassing to think about.

Reigen cut in before Serizawa could form a response, “got into a fight with some weirdo on our last job.”

“Really?! Are you ok?” She asked eyes wide looking at Serizawa then to Reigen and back again.

“Yes, speaking of, can you please get me another plaster from the first aid kit? I should probably change mine.”

Tome nodded, marching back to Serizawa’s desk with a plaster. She watched with gross curiosity, waiting for someone to tell her what happened. Serizawa opened the packet then tore off the old plaster in a single motion. He was going to apply the fresh one but then-

Tome gasped, “Is that a vampire bite?!”

“No, it was from someone dressed like a vampire.” He responded.

Tome crossed her arms as if Serizawa missed something incredibly obvious. Her eyes slowly scanned the office starting from the closed blinds to the takeout containers littering Reigen's desk then finally the thermostat. “so you haven’t had any sensitivity to sunlight? Or a sudden dislike of garlic? Low temperature? Or... a hunger for blood?!"

Was she implying that the bite was in fact an actual vampire bite?

Reigen nonchalantly flapped his hand to gain the room's attention. “Those are just symptoms of being under the weather. Except-for-the-blood-thing. But! He is not craving blood! Because he isn’t a vampire! Right Serizawa? Back me up here!”

Serizawa thought about it. He let the idea take shape in his mind. He observed it spin and roll like the steam leaving his tea from earlier.

He did have trouble with the sunlight coming into the office and the garlic from lunch did sting his nose when it typically wouldn’t (so much so he skipped lunch entirely). Reigen did say he was ice cold earlier. He never had those symptoms when he was sick before… but he wasn’t craving blood… right? What would that even feel like?

The more he thought about it, maybe he did?

That would explain his sudden interest in biting his boss’s neck. Thank goodness! He wasn’t some kind of pervert, he was just hungry.

For blood...

His boss's blood...

Reigen repeated his question, “right Serizawa? You’ve had those other symptoms but you’re fine.” He seemed to take the silence that followed as an answer, “sorry Tome. That new movie has convinced you vampires are real-”

“Actually,” Serizawa interrupted, “I have had thoughts that could be interpreted as craving blood.”

Reigen’s mouth hung open with a look that could only be interpreted as “are you serious?”

Serizawa simply nodded.

Reigen forced a cough, "just as I thought," he agreed with a parody of Serizawa's nod. "This is why you're my favourite secretary, Tome. Great detective work! Now I’m gonna go… make-a-call-real-quick," he added before rushing to the massage room. Through the door Reigen's muffled voice could be heard arguing with what could only have been Dimple.

Thank you for reading :)

[the-writer-nerd-ro]

New Sphere Fic, enjoy!

Oh My God They Were Roommates

Sara Pena's first thought when Hunter moved in with her was that Hunter had way more clothes than you would think would fit in her tiny closet. Like, layers upon layers of ancient dresses, skirts, and blouses. It barely took one trip to get everything else Hunter owned, but it took three trips to get her clothes. 

Not that Sara minded. She would have walked a thousand miles for Hunter. Just like that song, A Thousand Miles, by The Proclaimers. 

Hunter Richardson's first thought when she moved in with Sara was that Sara had way more candles than any landlord would typically allow. And apparently, most of them were homemade, which she thought was something only Amish people did.

Other than the collection of fire hazards, Sara's apartment was incredibly normal. It didn't seem possible for such an extraordinary girl like Sara to have such an ordinary apartment. There were a couple of pride flags and a few fuzzy rugs, but most of the personality in the house came straight from Sara.

She lit up every room she entered, brighter than all of her candles, and Hunter was completely enamored. 

Of course, Hunter had felt sparks since the first time they'd met, but now that things were more serious she knew she was 100% in love. 

Which meant it was time for the talk. 

"Sara?" Hunter asked at breakfast, the second morning she'd lived in Sara's apartment. Well, it was their apartment now.

"What's up?" Sara was eating a bowl of Lucky Charms, which seemed to be more marshmallows than cereal.

"What are we? I mean, is it too soon to say we're girlfriends?" 

"No, you're just my roommate," Sara said.

Those three words, "just my roommate" felt like Sara had scooped out Hunter's heart with a cereal spoon.

"What?" Hunter asked, looking aghast. "But we… We kissed."

"Roommates kiss all the time?"

"I shared a bed with you the past two nights."

"Well, I only have one bed…"

Hunter swallowed hard so that she didn't start crying.

"But if you want me to be your girlfriend, you could always ask," Sara said helpfully.

"I thought I just did." Now Hunter was incredibly confused.

"No, you asked if we were girlfriends, not if I wanted to be your girlfriend."

"Oh."

Hunter sat back and caught her breath from that emotional roller coaster, before posing the question. 

"Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

"Well, most people do that part before the moving in together part. So I figured we just skipped that step."

"We might do things out of order," Sara said, leaning so close that she nearly toppled out of her chair, "but I don't want to miss a single step with you."

Hunter leaned towards her, almost closing the distance before pausing for clarification. "So you do want to be my girlfriend?"

Sara nodded enthusiastically, knocking her forehead into Hunter's. 

Hunter had been so worried only moments ago, that she couldn't help laughing now.

"I have to get ready for work, see you tonight?"

"I'll be here, Hun."

Hunter's heart nearly exploded again, but this time in a good way. A few days ago, she'd had no one to come home to, she’d barely even had a liveable living space. Now she had a home and a girlfriend who wanted to share that home with her, and she couldn’t be happier.

[petitmonde]

May Trope Mayhem Day 14: Vampiric Feeding

For @duckprintspress May Trope Mayhem. Finally got around to posting something for it.

Tags: Vampires, TW: Blood, Lesbian AU, RPDR s15, Robin Fierce, Aura Mayari, Roura

"What are you thinking about?" Aura asked. She's laying on her side, drawing figure eights into Robin's palm.

Robin can't even look her in the eyes.

She could hazard a guess as to why Robin is so distant tonight. She hasn't been feeding much, and despite telling Aura a billion times that she was fine, she very much was not. Whether it was some sense of pride or hatred of her new affliction, Aura couldn't tell, but it made her worry all the same.

Aura would never be able to understand the pain Robin went through. Of how Robin used to describe her hunger pangs as a curse she couldn't run from. The fire within her growing until it had to be let out. The way her gums started to ache whenever she smelt blood and the drive to tear out someone's neck. To drink until her meal went limp and she had to bury a body. Robin hated it with her whole being, and she couldn't stop it.

Being a witch before her change didn't help either.

Every single time, Aura's heart broke for her girlfriend. She wished she could do something to help her through all that guilt that came with being changed against her will.

"Do you love me?" Aura changed her question.

Robin propped her head up by her hand. Her eyes were dark. Hungry. Small veins littered her face. She looked at her with a quizzical look on her face.

Still not answering.

Aura pushed Robin down into the mattress, straddling Robin by the hips. Her heart beat its slow melodic thump, singing the song only Robin could hear. She had to take drastic measures to get Robin back before fled the house.

"Because I do. I love your smile." Aura kissed Robin on the side of her mouth, not quite daring enough to go for the real deal.

"And I love the way you make me feel." Aura pressed her lips against Robin's wrist. "The way you hold me so tight. I never want you to let me go." A kiss against the palm of her hand. Aura placed the arm around her waist, leaving it there.

"I love your laugh." Aura left a kiss on her neck. "You never cease to amaze me, I could never get enough of your voice. I could listen to you talk for hours." She kissed it again, this time closer to Robin's jaw.

"I love how attentive you are," Aura whispered against her ear, pressing a kiss against her earlobe. "There's never a day where I can't count on you."

Aura paused to look at Robin again. All those creases had left her. Her breathing had returned to normal. Good. Her half cooked plan was working.

"I love your eyes." Aura kissed the skin right by her eye. The veins disappeared right under her lips. "So beautiful and expressive. I could get lost in them for hours."

"I love how you're as cute as a button." Aura kissed the tip of her nose. What else was there? The words were right on the tip of her tongue, but with how cute Robin was, she lost them.

For the first time that night, Robin was smiling. A half sided one, still restrained by Robin not wanting to flash her teeth.

"What is all this?" Robin asked. "Some kind of love declaration?"

Aura snorted. Hell, she couldn't with Robin at times. At least she was feeling better.

"What I'm saying is," Aura said, pulling down at the collar of her shirt to expose her neck. "I trust you."

"Aura, no."

"I know you will stop. I know it. So please, feed on me."

Robin's eyes darkened at the offer.

Aura kept still as what looked like a million thoughts passed through Robin's head. She didn't dare move. If Robin refused her again, she'd have to accept her answer, no matter how much the rejection would hurt.

Robin put her hand on Aura's neck to pull herself up. She was so close that Aura could feel the ghost of her lips on her skin. Her heart beat faster, the anticipation and slight fear taking over its rhythm.

"I trust you," were Aura's last words before she felt the sting of white cutting through her skin.

She was burning as Robin drank greedily from her vein. Each pump of her heart only served to fill the predator she had willingly allowed into her private rooms. It was a rush like no other, like it was her fate to end her life like this, enveloped in a happy cloud of endorphins rushing to her head.

Before she could register it, Robin withdrew her teeth, and it was over. Aura fell limp against the bed, too spent to move a muscle. She must look stupid with the smile that's plastered on her face.

There was still some blood left on Robin's lips, and in that moment, she had never looked sexier. Full of power to ruin Aura if she as much as thought about it. A part of Aura wanted that, too. But she knew that kind of thing would ruin Robin.

"Shit, I took too much," Robin cursed under her breath. Cute. "Hang on, I'll get you something to eat."

Aura caught Robin by her shirt before she could run off. "Don't worry about it. I love you."

Robin sighed and situated herself back into bed by Aura's side. "I love you too."

[randomreadingtimewithtsuki]

Scenario with Kurama this time! He comes home and his girlfriend is attempting to make him dinner as a surprise but ended up burning herself and the food in the process. Would love it if she's plus size too please 🙏 thank you again!! 💖

Hello! Thank you for requesting!

I hope this is of your liking, please let me know what you think!

Forgive me for the delay, I had a lot to do at work this week!

Tw: Injure mention, just a little burn.

Tsuki's note: I changed the request a bit, as I see everyone as teens ( kind of? Kurama Hiei? What are you?) So I decided to go with baking something route! I hope you don't mind!

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

Today you had some free time and no sign of Kurama so far. He went to help Yusuke with something again, not like you minded, Yusuke was dear friend of yours!

Is just you got a little bored without the boy around. Of course Keiko and Yusuke's mom made you company sometimes, even Botan and Shizuru as well, but today was not one of those days.

Since it was a little late, you decided to bake something for the boys for when they come back. You chose to do some cookies!

You had all you needed for it, so you began! As soon as you placed them on the oven you heard a ruckus outside and a familiar voice: Botan. She came back ahead because Koema called her, apparently she had some extra info but couldn't find the boys, so she figured she would stop by someone's place to not miss them. And she chose yours.

She briefly explained to you what changed on their mission and, boy, they were in for a headache.

You were so entertained on her talk you completely forgot about the cookies. Well, that is until the smell of burnt came to your noses.

You rushed to the kitchen and Botan followed you suit. On your rush to save the cookies you ended up hitting your hand on the roof of the oven, causing a nasty burn on your fingers.

But then you must be thinking: you saved the cookies right? Wrong. They burned. You cursed under your breath,Botan held in a giggle, but she managed to help you with your burned fingers.

By the time she was done, Koema called her again: the boys were back for the time being, they were at Genkai's house.

You asked Botan for a little ride to get there - burned fingers or not you missed Kurama - she gladly took you there.

Arriving at her place, you saw that the boys were already there, soon all of you sat around so Botan could fill them in with the lastest news she had.

You could notice Kurama looking your way a couple of times. Most people would think it is normal right? Well, not for Kurama, he is quite sneaky when stealing glances. So you had a good idea of what he was looking at.

After the explanation and discussion of what to do was done, Kurama approached you:

Kurama: y/n? What happened?

Y/n: Yeah... about that.. I tried to bake something for you guys, but I burned my fingers... and the food...

You felt your cheeks burn, you didn't dare to look at him, the whole time you stared at your fingers. You could feel his gaze and imagine the little smile growing on his lips.

He giggled. Such a sweet noise to hear, but made you even more flushed than before:

Kurama: I see... why did you get so distracted?

Y/n: Well, Botan came and she was telling me about the mission. I got too much into it and a little worried too.

He nodded while holding his laughter. He was biting his thumb to not laugh, an adorable habit of his, isn't it? You puffed your cheeks:

Y/n: I was trying to do something nice for you!

Kurama: I know, i know. I appreciated it. But I appreciate it more when you have all of limbs intact.

You whispered to yourself:

Y/n: Sorry... not like you are one to say...

Kurama: Hm?

Y/n: Sorry, I will try to not be a fire hazard next time.

Kurama: You are not a fire hazard, accident happens.

You were a bit bummed by all the situation. Noticing that you looked upset and very very embarassed about your slip up, Kurama patted your head gently:

Kurama: Cheer up, please. I truly appreciate your effort!

Y/n: I will only say " it is not a problem" when I actually get it done...

He giggled and gave you a quick kiss in the forehead before whispering to your ear:

Kurama: You are so cute, honestly.

Your cheeks burned. You couldn't help but feel a little tickle when he talked so close to you. Sadly this moment was cut right there and then, because Kuwabara"s and Hiei's little argument got a little out of hand.

A few moments later, when those two have settle down and everything was half planned, it was very late at night.

So Kurama offered to walk you back home:

Kurama: Are you feeling better?

Y/n: Yeah. I mean it's not the end of the world.

Kurama: Haha, no, it's not. I think it is a good idea to check this burn though.

Y/n: Botan did some first aid... I think it's fine.

Kurama: Even so, better take a look at it.

You hesitated. Sure it is nice, but you are no fool. He wanted to check your wound:

Y/n: It's not that bad. Is just a home- made burn.

Kurama: A home-made burn?

He giggled.

Kurama: it may be small, but it needs to be taken care of.

Y/n: I know, I know. But it's kinda late today.

Kurama: Hmm I am starting to have my doubts about the "not so bad"...

You sighted, trying to avoid it would only make him worry more. There is no way you wouldn't him to take care of you, you loved the attention! But admiting it was an another story, although he probably knew about it.

As soon as you reached home, he helped you clean and take care of the burn**. The whole time he was so careful, feather like touches and always asking if you were in pain - a gentleman!

He didn't linger around much, it was late and your parents would get mad to see him there. So when he was done and certified your wound wasn't bad, he gave you a kiss.

This you took by a surprise, you were so focused on watching him patch you up! He giggled at your surprised and flushed face, said good night and left. Just like that.

You sighed again, sometimes spending time with him was a miracle. When you turned around to grab your pajamas, you saw a single red rose on the drawer.

You couldn't help but smile at your foxy boyfriend. Next time, for sure, you would come up with something nice for him!

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

Thank you for reading! I hope you have enjoyed!

I feel like this got a little short and ooc. I am sorry!

Although i love Kurama,I feel like I am not worth writting for him. That's that make sense?

**  When treating a burn, do not cover it! It needs to breath and don't burst any blisters please.

Do not apply ice or cold water either! You may use special oils and lotions on your burns, but be sure it is made for burns and read it throughly !

When in doubt on what to do, look for a doctor.

[wild-houseplant]

WIP Wednesday (??)

No clue what day it is. This is my life now.

Anyway, in light of my perpetual obliviousness, I thought I’d share a snippet of another AU I’ve been fiddle-faddling around with (though this one’s an in-Thedas one) and didn’t get too far on. If you’ve got ideas to breathe a bit of plot into the poor bastard, I’m all ears, because I think it could go somewhere if only it had more to prop it up than slice-of-life stuff.

The premise: The Fifth Blight is over. Good King Alistair, that great Dissolver of the Fereldan Circle and Recycler of the Mages into Public Servants, has started his rule with the promise of better conditions for Alienage residents (via magic, of course), in memory of the late Warden Surana. Under the hawklike surveillance from angry, traumatised Templars, the mages are worked to the bone and kept from poverty only by their self-reliance. They are still quite frowned-upon by regular townsfolk, which doesn’t help matters.

Surana freed Zevran instead of recruiting him post-ambush, and he has been eking out a solitary, fearful life in the Denerim Alienage ever since. And Vin? She’s Denerim’s friendly, overworked fire safety mage, drowning in paperwork and Templar threats. Zevran’s the man blocking the door of the room she needs to inspect for fire hazards.

I’ll stick the snippet under the cut here so it doesn’t get too long, but for now I’d like to thank @siriskulksnerding and @fade-and-loathing-in-thedas for the WIP tags and would like, in turn, to tag you both back and also drag @badartxd​ (II think you might have also tagged me but way back?) @heniareth , @icy-warden, and @atypicalacademic into the madness, if you’re keen for it. I always, always need more about the beloveds!

-

-

Zevran had paused in cleaning his belt long before the knocking started. The house was alive, if only out of spite, and every decrepit bone of it was perpetually ready with a complaint. While boots were still pressing groans out of the floorboards thirty paces away, the pommel of his restless knife was already digging into his hand.

Not a Crow. No guild member would slop about like a civilian, intentionally or unintentionally. The shame of it! 

Ah, but then Zevran was a deserter, and thus unworthy of a proper assassination. A knife to the gut delivered by a leadfoot who bashed the gizzards out of doors would be well deserved. 

Another knock, and a warm, smoky voice announced itself as the Fire Warden.

Hah. Smoky.

By the time a third round of knocking came, he was reluctantly making his way to the door-- and apparently too distracted to notice the oiled cloth on the floor that was slipping his foot out from underneath him--

§

Vin felt the thud more than she heard it. The floorboards had lifted like tongues under her feet, only to settle back down into place before she could be swallowed up.

She knocked a fourth time.

“I heard that noise in there,” Vin called through the tiny crack in the doorframe. 

Silence.

“Oh, Maker’s--” she rapped the door jamb again. “Come on, please don’t be like this. This is the fourth time I’ve tried to do a fire safety inspection and the person inside's pretended to be dead or comatose.”

When she made to knock again, the door opened enough to reveal a single, amber eye glaring out at her. 

She scoffed. "Well, that's a start, at least."

-

-

For visual reference, if needed, Vin. Tousle-haired and perpetually sunburnt.

[id: In picrew in cartoon style, there is a pale non-binary person with medium to light brown hair that is short and wavy. Her face is oval-shaped and she is sunburnt in the top half of her face. Her eyes are blue and she is smiling. She is wearing a white button-up shirt and a black robe that is open at the front. In the background is the non-binary colours in stripes, and there are white stars throughout. The picrew artist is grgikau and their logo is beside the person’s chin. end id.]

[hext00ns]

Down For the Count (@sicktember) [For @musashi]

AO3 l!nk in comments

Ships: Phoenix & Franziska

Rating: G

Warnings: None

Description: When Phoenix, quite literally falls ill, Franziska takes it upon herself to care for him. This will totally not go terribly.

{Sicktember 2022 Day 20: Cold Sweat}

The cold January air nipped at Franziska’s skin as she walked down the sidewalk. She’d finished dinner out at a restaurant nearby the Gatewater Hotel. She didn’t have the want or energy to go much farther than just down the road. Nor did she want to bother with dealing with another American taxi driver that didn’t know when to keep quiet and do their job. Even then, the walk was probably better. Despite the wind that slammed against her small form that felt close to below freezing; something about it was comforting.

Maybe it was how it soothed the blistering heat that licked just under her skin. There was a fire that itched at her finger tips. She’d been feeling it ever since the conclusion of State v Fey. Maybe even earlier than that. Maybe the fire truly started to kindle when she woke up in her bed to an empty house that would never be full again. Not like it had been in her younger years.

The grip she’d had on her arm the whole walk back tightened. She could almost feel her nails digging past the fabric of her coat. It didn’t matter when it started. All that mattered was the bitterly cold fresh air that ached in her lungs and chilled her burning thoughts, if only for just a moment.

Her thoughts were cut short when, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a cyclist coming towards her with only a mere second to move out of the way. She heard before she saw the sounds of the bike coming to a disastrous halt with multiple Thuds echoing its fall.

Franziska spun on her heel, ready to come for whatever fool had almost run her over. However, she paused at the sight before her. The fire started up again like an inferno. She could hardly feel the cold wind anymore.

“Phoenix Wright.” Her hiss was full of venom and a spine chilling growl that came straight from her core. She felt her teeth clench and her jaw tighten uncomfortably.

The defense attorney sat on the ground, hand to his forehead having just pulled himself up from his fall. He looked up to Franziska, his recognition only just setting in before she started up again.

“It seems your ability to be a civil hazard is just as foolishly prevalent as your ability to be a foolishly foolish nuisance.” As the words spilled from her she began to grab her whip, her feet getting into position and back straightening; ready to strike.

Phoenix raised his hands in a defensive position and opened his mouth as if to try and talk his way out of the mess he’d just (literally) crashed into. However, instead of words, it was a loud sneeze that blasted out of him.

The sudden sound caused Franziska to pause in her movements. It was practically as loud as the cracks of her whip echoing against the courtroom halls. She gave the attorney another look.

His face was as bright in its flush as his tie. His eyes looked dazed and dim with whatever sickness was currently clouding his mind. He looked pathetic.

She gave out a huff and snapped her whip with her hands in a threatening manner. She gazed down at him past her raised chin and sneered. “Of course you would be foolish enough to catch a fool cold in the dead of winter,” she grumbled out.

Phoenix gave a sniffle as he pushed his hands to the ground, ready to push himself back to his feet. “You act like I did this on purpose,” he grumbled out.

Franziska crossed her arms over her chest. “Knowing you, I would not be surprised.”

Phoenix only shot her a confused and somewhat irritated look before finally lifting himself up to his feet. He wobbled for a moment, attempting to find his balance. His knees buckled under him causing him to fall once again, just nearly catching himself. He let out a curse and put a hand to his head.

The prosecutor gave him a raise of her brow. “Are you really so weak that you are thrown off your feet by a measly cold?” she hissed out.

He looked up at her with a frown. “Can you hold off on kicking me when I’m quite literally down.” He gave another attempt at pulling himself up, only to collapse to the ground yet again. This time in a fit of coughing that sounded downright blisteringly painful.

Franziska put a hand over her face, as if to cover herself from whatever disgusting germs were afflicting the other. “You cannot even stand,” she pointed out.

The other looked up to glare at her but it was weak and tired. There was hardly any of the usual fire backing it. That made Franziska pause. The sight was horrid. Sure Phoenix was weak compared to herself, but to be so frail that he could hardly get himself back into his own office? That was something else completely. Just as well as it was completely unacceptable.

She made her decision right there. If this fool wasn’t going to take care of himself then she would do it for him. She couldn't have him convalescing in court. She needed him in perfect health so that she could rip him to shreds with her bare hands. And her whip, of course. It would be no greater insult to her if this man were to let a measly cold take him down before she was granted the opportunity to do so herself.

She marched up to his pathetic form and grabbed his arm. “Come,” she hissed out. “I’m taking you to your office.”

“Wha-?” His voice came out more congested than it was a moment ago. He looked up at her, a bit dazed. Either this ailment was fast acting or he had been holding it off for a while, only now too weak to fight off its effects. The fool.

“Hurry up and stand. The cold is not going to help whatever germs you’ve infected yourself with.”

Phoenix didn’t fight when she pulled at his upper arm to help him stand. He took the help and finally got to his feet. The two made their way to the office, which Franziska hadn’t realized was so close to her hotel.

Once Phoenix was able to get them into the main room, Franziska practically threw his form to the couch. Carrying such a deadweight was practically begging to break her heels.

Phoenix laid back on the couch and let out another harsh string of coughs. He was practically shivering where he sat. It was a stark contrast to the bright red heat of his face causing him to sweat like an animal.

“Do you have any sort of medication to keep you from dying on your own snot?” she asked as she turned to give the office a once over. It wasn’t a complete wreck but it definitely wasn’t impressive.

“No,” he mumbled.

Franziska frowned at that. Of course this fool didn’t have anything useful in his clusterfuck of an office. She pulled out her phone to message Gumshoe. Someone had to get the bike back and he could bring some sort of medication while he’s at it.

By the time she had ended her call and turned back around, Phoenix was out cold on the couch. Of course he would fall asleep at a time like this. Franziska bit back an angry groan of annoyance. She grabbed his desk chair and pulled it over to the couch. Giving herself somewhere to sit while she waited for either Gumshoe to arrive or Phoenix to wake up, whichever came first.

She leaned back against her chair and looked down at him. His face was still flushed hot but the shivers of his form in his sleep betrayed the sight. She gave an annoyed sigh and got up just long enough to wet a rag and grab a throw blanket. Slapping the rag across his forehead and the blanket over his form, she concluded that was more effort of hers than he even deserved, and sat back down.

She crossed her arms with a huff. He didn’t show much sign of waking up anytime soon. Was this really him? The infamous “Phoenix Wright”? She’d already gone up against him twice so far and her bafflement still tugged at her brow. He was a pathetic and weak fool. He had no right to be the one to ruin her family’s legacy. He had no right to destroy the win streaks and lives of two of the world's greatest prosecutors. He had no right to force Franziska to face the truth about her father and what he had done. Only to leave her alone in their large house that she had once called her home.

And yet this was the man who’s name was scrawled on each letter. This was the man who was in the papers proclaiming his courtroom victories. This was the man who had killed the prosecutor in her brother.

Her hand clenched at her shoulder like a vice.

This was also the man who not only took her very driving force out from under her but smacked it back into her face like dead weight. The man who took one trial to defeat a foe she’d been combating her whole life.

She gave a low growl and ran her hand down her face. “Do you know what he told me?” she spit out at his form. The attorney didn’t move or show any sign that he could hear her. Her eyes thinned into a sharp glare. “He told me you made his nightmares go away.” She bit her tongue and cut off her own words. The treacherous inklings of a sob welling up in her throat caused her to throw herself from the chair.

She walked away from the couch, her arms thrown down to her sides. She’d been so strung out. The strings were threatening, begging, to snap. “How do I react to that?” She croaked out, throwing her arms out. “The same man who made him leave- who killed Prosecutor Edgeworth- also freed Miles from his nightmares?” She didn’t know if the lump climbing up her with every word really was a sob or if half way on it’s journey it began to morph into a laugh. A painful, sorrowful, blisteringly livid laugh.

She wanted her whip. She wanted to yell and cry and thrash about and hit anything- everything- near her. She wanted to throw herself to the ground and let out everything she’d felt the past year, everything she’d felt her whole life in a blood curdling wail. Instead, she turned back to him. She watched his chest move so slowly one could mistake him for dead. She could have left him for dead. She could have left him on the street to die of whatever foolish germs the fool had picked up while foolishly defending his foolishly fool clients.

But she didn’t. She heaved him all the way back to his office. She stayed as he finally succumbed to the fever that pulled him into a disturbingly silent sleep. And she knew, deep down, she was going to stay till he woke up. Just to make sure he didn’t die a most foolish death despite how fitting it would be.

She walked back to the chair, sat down, crossed her arms, and laid back against it with a huff.

Her hand clenched her shoulder like a vice.

What right did he have to take such a victory away from her? And to do so that it would cost her everything else along the way? She didn’t feel the pain in her arm till the knock snapped her out of whatever trance she’d been in. She pulled her hands down and stood to greet the detective.

---

When Phoenix finally woke up, Franziska was sipping at a tea cup that most definitely didn’t come from his office. The tea definitely didn’t either. All of it brought to her by the good detective who, thankfully. Had the foresight to bring more than just medication. And though the tea bags were most likely also for the sickly attorney, she had decided she could make better use of one for the time being.

“For a moment I thought you were dead.”

“Takes more than a cold and a bike crash to take me out,” Phoenix muttered as he pushed himself to sit.

Franziska gave a hum against the lip of her tea cup. “Thankfully, that is the one thing I can count on. After all, I need you alive and well for when I demolish you in court and strip you of any honor and title you ever held.”

Phoenix looked at her with a raised brow. “Charming. Why are you here again?”

“Someone had to make sure you didn’t die a fool's death and choke on your own sick in your sleep.” She then motioned her hand to a bag left on the coffee table. “I also had Scruffy pick up some things while you were asleep.”

“Thanks but I’m good,” is what he attempted to say. Halfway through his words he was wracked with an onslaught of coughs that broke up his words into barely recognizable pieces.

Franziska gave him an unimpressed look. She put down her cup and grabbed the bag. She ripped out a bottle of the cheap relief and shoved her pill-filled palm out towards the other. “I am not going to allow you to so foolishly neglect necessary medication. Especially after I took the time out of my day to have Scruffy bring them all the way here for you- are you listening to me!”

Phoenix wasn’t even paying attention to her words. He wasn’t even looking at her. His eyes were zeroed in on the bottle shed set back down on the table. His face had gone pale in a way that she wasn’t so sure was his cold.

“I’m not taking that,” he mumbled out, finally peeling his eyes away from the container and back to her hand.

“What?” She hissed out.

“I said, I’m not taking that,” he responded. “I don’t need it anyways. I feel fine.” Almost on cue his coughing started up again. As if his own body was calling him out for his lies.

“Your ability to lie is almost as bad as your foolish tomfoolery in court. Now take it,” she hissed, shoving her hand closer to his face.

“Stop it,” Phoenix hissed out, shoving her away. “I said no!”

Franziska moved to grab his wrist so to still him but she stopped. This close, she noticed the look in his eyes. It was the same. The same look that kept her taking the stairs for all her childhood. She pulled back, taking the Cold Killer X with her.

There was a pause between them. Neither one spoke or moved to break it. They only looked to one another. Then, suddenly, Franziska let out a growl of anger and threw down the pills to the floor. She crossed her arms, her hand gripping her left shoulder like a vice. “You are the most insufferable man I have ever had the misfortune to meet in my life. I have wasted my afternoon watching over your pathetic form so to make sure you don’t sporadically drop dead and of course you must make every second harder-”

“Stop that,” Phoenix said, snapping her from her ranting.

She looked up at him and hissed out, “What?”

“Stop holding your arm like that,” he restated. He leaned forward to take her hand off her shoulder. She only noticed the searing pain her nails and grip were causing her once it was pointed out. “You do it in court too, doesn’t that hurt?”

Franziska looked at him. She blinked. That was all she could think to do as he pulled her hand away from her arm and spoke to her as if- as if he cared for her. A stern concern she only now tied to her past. A sound that made her feel like a child. Franziska von Karma was no child.

Once her thoughts came back to her she ripped her hand away from the other and shot out of her chair. She pulled out her whip and snapped it at the other, nicking the ends of his fingers at most. She reveled in his foolish cries of pain.

“What the hell was that for?” he hissed out at her.

“You- you-” whatever insults she wished to throw at him all piled onto her tongue faster than she could speak them. The weight of her ire too heavy for her own lips.

She was freed from her stupor by the door opening once again.

“Hey Nick, are you still dying in here?” called out a familiar voice. Maya Fey stepped into the main office and looked at the sight of them both. “Prosecutor von Karma?”

Franziska lowered her stance and watched the other inspect the scene as if she’d just walked in on a crime.

“Woah, Nick, you look more like ass than you did this morning,” she commented.

Phoenix only frowned and mumbled, “Thanks.”

Maya then turned to the prosecutor with one of those smiles that somehow always made Franziska feel like liquid. “Thanks for watchin’ over Nick so he didn’t, like, die or something stupid.”

Franziska only let out a huff and crossed her arms again. “I didn’t do it for any reason other than so I could crush him later.”

“Cool!” Maya chirped. “Just wait till he’s not dying from snot before you start whipping him again,” she added with a laugh.

Franziska wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Instead, she wrapped up her whip to put it back on her hip. She didn’t look over at the two of them, only standing stiffly to the side. “There is tea left over and your bike is put up outside. You have until our next meeting in court to get better. Either way,” she hissed, giving Phoenix a sideways glare, “I will not hold back.” And then she left.

The next morning Franziska woke herself up coughing.

[kijiboop]

In the Family: Chapter Three

Master Post

December 1987

Chris always felt nauseous before a game. The coach had assured him it was normal, that he'd get used to it and eventually the feeling would go away. He wasn't sure he believed it, since some of the seniors were still vomiting in the locker room before games and the number went up the closer to state finals they got. He swallowed his discomfort with another mouthful of water and peeked out into the stands. There were hundreds of people packed into the stadium seating above the Arlington High School football field, most of them local. But as a semi-final game, there were plenty of people from Yorktown, their opponent's team, too. Seeing that sea of faces, both familiar and unfamiliar made the water he had just swallowed squish uncomfortably and Chris withdrew again.

"Checkin' for your girl, Hackett?" John Harris was a linebacker, built like a tank. He slapped Chris on the shoulder hard enough to leave a sting, even through his armor-like pads. 

"Mel never misses a game," put in another player, a halfback named Ronald Howell. He grinned at Chris. "At least, she never did when she was with me." 

"She's with the cheerleaders," Chris said. "I saw Chrissy Stenson going up and Mel's usually her base." He wasn't about to admit to his teammates that he wasn't so much looking for his girlfriend as watching for his brother. Travis had promised before leaving for school after Thanksgiving that he would make it to as many of the semi-final and final games as he could. Chris knew he would do his best but there was still a little butterfly of hope hammering against his rib cage, begging for his big brother to be there.

The rest of the team continued their usual ribbing and roughhousing while Chris snuck one more peek out at the crowd. He could see where his parents and Bobby were sitting. They had not left room for Travis, packed as they were in the stands. He doubted Constance would have allowed for it anyway. Travis would just have to sit where he could find room. He tried to shove away his disappointment, promising himself that he would still play his hardest. Even if Travis didn't make it.

***

Travis tumbled out of the bus and sprinted for the street. There were still two blocks between the bus stop and the stadium but if he ran, he might still make kickoff. He hadn't even bothered with a duffel bag this trip, promising himself that seeing Chris's team play would be worth the inconvenience of not having spare clothes. He had slapped his test paper on the professor's desk and ran all the way to the campus bus station to make the three o'clock bus to LaGrange. 

The gates were closed when he got there and Travis doubled over himself, wheezing and panting. He leaned on the gate with one hand and managed to shake it, still unable to speak. A girl about Chris's age popped up from behind the concession stand and came over to peer at him through the wrought iron. "It's already started."

"Don' care," Travis gasped. "Need in."

The girl raised her eyebrows in a thoughtful arch over her thick glasses. "What's eating you, then?"

"Brother," he managed. "Playing. Promised."

With a slow tilt of her head, the girl continued to watch him, then said, "You're Chris Hackett's brother, aren't you?" When Travis nodded, a small smile played over her lips. She reached up and pushed open the gates. "It wasn't locked," she told him with a grin. "It's a fire hazard to lock the gates on a football game."

Travis paused long enough to give her an annoyed glare, which only seemed to amuse her. "You," he wheezed, pointing a finger at her savagely, "are a bitch."

"Takes one to know one, Hackett." She backed out of his way and waved a hand. "There might be room along the stairs." Once he had straightened again, she asked, "Do you want a water? You look like you were running for a while."

"Since the bus," Travis said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. "I don't have any cash, though."

She handed him a water bottle with a smile. "On the house. I'm Lily, by the way."

Travis started to reach to accept the water, then paused. "Gaggle's little sister?"

Lily gave him a vicious look and pulled the water bottle back out of reach. "He hates that name, you know."

"I don't blame him," Travis admitted sheepishly. "I just..."

"Jason," she said quickly. "His name is Jason."

"Right," Travis sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't know him in school. Just knew of him." They stared at each other for a few seconds before he added, "So he is your brother." 

Lily nodded before offering him the bottle again. "How could you tell?" Travis accepted the water, then gestured to his own eyes with the bottle and she nodded. "Most people notice the eyes first." A roaring cheer from the crowd made them both jump and Lily smiled slightly. "Better hurry or you'll miss the game entirely."

"I..." Travis trailed off, surprised by how suddenly he had lost interest in the game and wanted to linger near concessions. He shook his head to clear it, reminded himself that if she was Chris's age, that made her entirely too young for those kinds of thoughts. "Thanks for the water."

"If you ran here from the bus stop between when the bus usually comes and the beginning of the game, you deserved a reward." When he looked surprised, Lily grinned and lifted her chin. "Go on. I'm sure Chris is looking for you and we need him to win."

Travis turned away from her as she vanished back behind the concessions stand, then climbed the stairs until he found a six inch gap on the end of a bench where he could squish himself long enough to watch the game. Jedediah hadn't been exaggerating: the Arlington Admirals were playing better than he had ever seen them. Their quarterback had a blazing throw that seemed to defy interception and all their receivers practically teleported to where they needed to be. Nobody put so much as a toe past their defensive line. 

And his brother... Chris seemed to fly. When they were kids, Chris had always been the one most likely to jump off of things. It was one reason Travis insisted on the upper bunk when their father had built the bunk beds: he was afraid his little brother would jump down and break his neck. They had raced in the woods, climbed and jumped out of trees, swung on everything that would swing. But to see Chris running like this was a revelation to Travis. His brother could really move! He screamed himself hoarse with the rest of the crowd when Chris got the ball and ran for the goal. 

Halftime came in a rush and Travis had to dodge into the stairwell aisle to avoid half a dozen people trying to escape for the bathrooms. He managed to stand on the bench long enough to wave down to the field, grinning stupidly when Chris caught sight of him and started to wave back. He dropped down to the seat with a sigh, then glanced at the woman he had been squished up against for most of the game. She gave him a long stare, the briefest of smiles and turned her back to him.

"There's room by me," said a voice from a few rows higher in the stands and Travis leaned back, startled to see Lily perched there with a hot dog in one hand and a huge foam finger engulfing the other. "We switch off at halftime during the bigger games," she explained. "So nobody's actually missing out on the whole thing." He didn't move for a moment, then Lily gestured to him with the foam finger. "C'mon, I swear I don't bite."

Baffled, Travis walked up the rows between them. He stood in the aisle, studying her as she bit the end off her hot dog. "There wasn't anywhere to sit when I came up."

"People tend to assume I take up more room than I do," she replied with a wry tone in her voice. Lily nodded toward the cluster of people who had scooted over to make room for her. "It's what I get for actually enjoying a hot dog occasionally."

Travis looked her over, puzzled. From her tone, she was used to being teased for her size but she didn't look any heavier than most of the girls he had known in high school. Before he could say anything, she waved the foam hand at him. "Pull my finger, would you?"

"How long have you been waiting for someone to use that line on?" Travis chuckled but took the foam hand from her so she could sip her soda. 

"At least three years," she replied without a hint of shyness. When Travis put the hand on, she grinned. "I'm going to want that back, you know. It cost half an hour's concession vending."

Travis bopped her over the head with the finger. "So about a dollar and a quarter?"

"You shush your mouth!" Lily laughed. "I'm making a whole three-fifty an hour now. Better than minimum wage, baby."

"Pretty good for a girl who can't drive a car yet," Travis found himself teasing. When Lily went silent, he paused and regretted his words at the expression on her face. "Oh. I... uh..."

"It's okay," she said softly. "You don't know. I forget not everyone knows everything about me." Her lips quirked in a weak smile. "It's hard when you go to school with the same people since kindergarten. Every little stupid thing you've ever done, always in someone's memory."

Travis sighed and gave a little laugh. "Yeah. Tell me about it." Lily stayed silent and he glanced at her, suddenly wanting to see her smile again. "No, seriously," he whispered. "Tell me. I've been told I'm a good listener."

"By nobody ever," snorted Lily and Travis ducked his head with a laugh. 

"I mean, if you want to talk about it sometime..." Travis started, but his thoughts were demolished as the crowd around them surged and roared with the return of the players to the field. Lily was up with them and screaming right along. He felt like maybe he had better just stick to cheering for now rather than chasing whatever had drawn him down that particular line of thought. So he stood up and started to yell, clapping and whooping until the crowd settled down to watch the second half of the game.

[stfxls]

FACIAL RECOGNITION : GENEFE ANALYN'S FACE

How can I live without her? Everytime I see my mom's face it's just that question that always pops like a notification on the phone that can't stop appearing. You know me I am a Mama's Boy and to top it all off it's her face why I always have a face like this as well. Come to think of it mom's face was a little bit calm at first it's as if she's the unbothered Queen Elsa Of Frozen yet when her Eyebrows starts to meet at the center I know I had to back down and lower my arsenal because like Queen Elsa she will froze you with those glaring cold eyes and mouth the spits with fire and she'll be like "STEVEN ASA KA NA NAMAN NAMUADTO HA? INGON KO SA IMUHA DIRI KA LANG SA BALAY KAY WALAY TAO SA BALAY HA!!!" Yes I know my mom's kind of feisty Dragon but she's not totally like that.

Apparently my stepfather was really amazed on my mom's kind and humble attitude along with her sweet smile that extends to her ears, no wonder she fell in love with her. But as I was saying, we all know all mothers are typically like that, to the point that they will shout at you frantically, and they will be emotionally unstable that their face just can't hide it when they get worried because their children didn't ask permission to go out with friends resulting to why they are not yet home late in the evening. Mother knows best I know that for sure, but sometimes mom's face just go confused when I say something that she actually doesn't know and sometimes she would open her mouth real wide to say her teachings are what's best for you so you should obey them, well because of my stubborn side sometimes I don't follow those teachings.

Mom's eyes were waterfall in the dead night of the evening, since she is a businesswoman and all in one pack so it's really hard for her to balance the expenses in the house, utility bills, the food, that sometimes she forgets to look at herself too, and I felt bad and responsible for that, instead of helping her to decrease her forehead full of wrinkles, headaches and stress, I just ignored her and continue with my stubbornness. But you know what, no matter how stubborn I am her lips comes close to my cheeks as if I didn't do anything to her, since my cowardice let through me sometimes and we go on to a huge fights with my mom where her head is going big with clouds and roaring thunders all crashing together "Kloog Kloog booom Zapp"

But amidst all of that mom is only looking in my back, like her face full of worries sometimes. But there is this one time her chin goes up and her smile is so warm that she's really proud of my achievements all throughout my journey as a student from Elementary till now she really still supports me, and I thank God that she gave me a mom not only with an angelic face but also with kind and humble heart that she would always say "Anak mabuti ng ikaw yung sinaksaktan anak kaysa ikaw ang nananakit." which is true. Also when I feel really sick but I don't want to let her know that I am sick Her nose was just like a lie detector she would know that I am sick just with her sense of smell and not with her sense of sight, and she was like "Susubukan mo pang magsinungaling sa akin eh....nanay mo ako...malamang alam ko bawat likot at galaw mo." suddenly she laughed her laugh was like a barrage of never ending machine gun as if there is no Tomorrow.

So everyone, do not mistaken our mothers dragonlike instincts, they are just protecting us, protecting us from the hazards and potential harm that may come at us, since mothers are known as the light of the house that covers and protects us from darkness who wishes to consume us and to turn us against them.

[theforgottenmcrmy]

After All (Part 2/?)

Pairing: Riff X OC Jet Girl

Warnings: Explicit Language, Mild Angst, Suggestions of Violence

Summary: Someday, she’d have a rich husband, a fancy house with a white picket fence, and a load of kids who’d look just like her. Maybe she’d recall these times, this neighborhood where she grew up, and the people she knew. Maybe she’d think of it fondly, but she probably won’t. After all that time passed, maybe she’d forgive him.

Word Count: 6000 ish. I know, I know.

DISCLAIMER

Please note that this is a reimagining of the film West Side Story (2021) and as a result is slightly AU.

Masterlist /// Part 1 /// Part 2 /// Part 3

A/N: Thank you everyone for the likes/reblogs/and replies, it really means a lot, and it was very motivating for me to continue with this. My plan is to try and post a chapter every 2-3 days, give or take depending on the chapter length. This one is crazy, probably too long, but I thought it needed to be in order to establish the background for the rest of the story. This part may also be a downer, but it’ll only go up from here (although it will be a slow burn). The next part will have a time jump to a lot closer to the movie timeline, so hopefully I don’t lose anyone with this part. Again, if you like it, please feel free to like or otherwise interact. This is also my first time posting writings on Tumblr, so if you have any advice or tips you’d like to offer, please feel welcome to do so. Hope you enjoy! If you missed Part 1, I’ll link it here.

Part Two: You’re Not Here to Stay

Winter was finally starting to set in. Roxie already tended to loathe the winter months, and she loathed them even more now as she watched the season set in from her bedroom window that her aunt had nailed shut the following day. Unfortunately, their landlord hadn’t been in to do the requested repairs in quite a while- else he probably would’ve berated her aunt for the fire safety hazard.

“No more mistakes,” her aunt had muttered to herself as she hammered away at the final nails. Roxie could do nothing but watch her in a stunned silence, still shaken up from the previous evening, and had a difficult time processing anything.

“I swore to your mother that if you had the chance, you were going to get out of this neighborhood,” her aunt reminded her, as she had a hundred times before. “This neighborhood was already going down when your dad and I were coming up… in a few years, if that, it’ll be in both of our interests to be long gone from here. Roxanne, if it’s the last thing I do, God as my witness, I will see to it that at least you make it out.”

Roxie hated the very thought of it, but couldn’t find it in her to argue with her aunt at that moment.

The news about the scholarship had come at a bit of a surprise. When she applied the month before, it was to appease her aunt, and her hopes were so little that she actually hadn’t given much thought to what would happen if she actually got accepted. Her aunt made the decision for her. She handed her the acceptance letter, and watched her expectantly. Roxie felt she had no other choice but to sign it, mildly concerned the woman would keel over if she argued with her.

——-————————————————————————

After that night, she lived day to day according to the schedule her aunt had planned for her.. Wake up. Go to school. Come home. Do schoolwork. Go to work. Come home, immediately.

Despite the fact that she had little foreseeable opportunity, she wanted to speak to Tony. He would say something- anything, really- to make her feel less awful about everything that had happened. He knew Riff better than anyone- better than her, even. He would be able to make sense of his decision.

She learned fairly quickly that the Jets, one way or another, had formed their own idea of what had happened that night. In school, the members of the gang who were still enrolled made their attendance even sparser. There was no chance to catch any of them there.

Velma, Diesel’s girlfriend, was the only one of the gang’s consistent girlfriends to attend the local school with her. It became apparent that she would be her only chance to get through to Tony.

Unfortunately, Velma had shut her out as well. Although, Roxie noted that whenever she’d tried to sneak in a word with her in the crowded hallways between classes, Velma had at least looked remorseful as she ignored her.

It was by some sheer luck that one day she ran into her in the restroom during her lunch period.

Velma glanced at her in the mirror as she entered the restroom. The girl did a double take, and her eyes widened as she realized who had joined her.

Roxie took a moment to look around the room to confirm that they were alone, before she turned to face her. Part of her hated being so assertive with Velma, who was one of the nicest people she had ever met, but the other part of her was frustrated that she had been forced to this point at all. She strategically placed herself between Velma and the exit, waiting for her to make the first move.

Once Velma realized her plan, she sighed, turned away from the mirror slowly, and looked at her reluctantly. Guilt was as plain as day upon her face.

“I am so sorry, Roxie,” she apologized. “I didn’t want to cut you out like this, honestly… but Diesel, he thought it might be for the best. He said Action ‘strongly advised’ not associating with you- at least until Riff gets back, and he can clear everything up.”

Roxie’s brows furrowed. “Action isn’t in charge.”

“No,” Velma agreed. “But, you know how he is… between you and me, he told Diesel that he’s worried Tony doesn’t have enough of a backbone to step up and be a leader without Riff.”

“Yeah?” Roxie questioned. “What else has he been saying?”

“He thinks… I’ve already said too much,” Velma decided, moving to step around her and leave.

“Velma, please,” Roxie all but begged, grabbing Velma’s hand lightly, and stopping her in her tracks.

The other young woman sighed, and looked down at the ground, avoiding eye contact.. “... He thinks you may have sold out Riff to save yourself.”

It explained why everyone had been treating her like she had the plague. The thought filled her with anger.

“Of course it isn’t true,” Velma continued. “Diesel told him that he was full of shit for even thinking such a thing. Tony’s told the guys that you wouldn’t sell out Riff like that several times over by now, but once Action had planted that small seed of doubt… it was too late.”

Roxie pursed her lips, frustrated, but unsure of how to respond.

“You know they don’t mean anything by it,” Velma insisted. “They’re just worried. They want Riff back. Especially with things heating up with the Egyptian Kings like they are.”

Oh god, that’s right. The Egyptian Kings. How the hell could she have forgotten about them? Riff had been walking her home after work nearly every night for the past few weeks. He’d been worried they would try to mess with her. If he wasn’t able to walk with her, he’d get someone else to do it- usually Tony.

In the past, it was always an unspoken rule that “fair was fair” between gang members while fighting for turf … but getting the girls of the opposing side involved was a line that was never crossed. Roxie had reminded Riff of this many times, but he had always told her quickly, with that contagious smile of his never fading, “I’d rather be safe than sorry when it comes to ya.”

Velma looked at Roxie curiously, and with a slight startle, she realized she must have been lost in her own thoughts for some time. She cleared her throat, and asserted, “I need to talk to Tony.”

“You know Diesel doesn’t like discussing gang business with me.” No. Diesel was kind of like Riff in that way. For Diesel, the less Velma knew, the safer she was in his mind. It was touching, really- she was the only person he had an obvious soft spot for. A-Rab had made the mistake of teasing Diesel about it once, and one time only. The black eye A-Rab sported for the week that followed was enough of a warning to the other Jets that Diesel’s fondness for Velma was not to be mentioned ever again.

“I’m not asking you to go through him,” Roxie clarified. “I was hoping you could get a message to Grazi.”

Velma looked at her with sudden realization in her eyes, and nodded. “Of course. I’ll do what I can.”

——————————————————————————

As Roxie walked home from work at the factory the following few nights, she paused every now and then, often convinced she heard the soft thuds of pairs of footsteps echoing down the alleys nearby. Apparently, she didn’t need to be worried about the Egyptian King’s bothering her now that Riff was gone- it was clear that Tony had ordered some Jet “shadows” to keep an eye on her in the meantime.

Almost a week after she had spoken with Velma, one of the “shadows” finally decided to approach her. In her peripheral vision, a large figure stepped out of the shadows of the alleyway as she was passing by, stopping mere inches away from her.

She flinched, but upon seeing the familiar face, she placed a hand over her mouth to prevent the shocked scream that was threatening to slip out. As it was, she cursed under her breath, dropped her hand, and willed herself to calm down.

“Tony!” she hissed at him, poking him on the chest. “I swear to God, you just took five years off my life!”

He ignored her. His eyes flashed across the street, seemingly spotting something- or someone. Without a second thought, he lightly, but firmly, began to drag her down the alleyway he had appeared from.

Despite feeling a lot like a ragdoll, Roxie forced herself to walk with him. She felt rather clumsy and awkward as he led her though the darkness. The echoing of her heels bounded rapidly off of the narrow brick walls. Tony didn’t seem bothered by it, though- or he had something else more important on his mind.

After a few minutes, Tony came to a halt at a dead end. She recognized the signage along the back wall of the building immediately- it was the employee entrance of the Irish Pub. A small light to the side of the back door provided the nearby area with a dim glow.

“I’m sorry,” Tony mumbled, breaking the silence as he released his grip on her arm. “You never really know who’s going to be out on these streets anymore.”

“That bad, huh?”

Tony looked at her for a long moment, as if deliberating what all he should divulge. Eventually, he shook his head. “You know how it is,” he answered vaguely. “Snowboy got jumped last week. It was pretty bad.”

“Is he alright?” Roxie asked meekly, concern for the boy flooding her mind.

“We should’ve taken him to a doctor,” Tony confessed, remorse plain on his face. “But he’s on the mend now.”

“I could swing by. I’m not a professional, but I’ve patched you and Riff up so many times, I could just check-”

“Roxie,” Tony interrupted her, though his tone was gentle. “Ya know I can’t let you do that.”

Roxie stared at him hard for a moment, anger rapidly replacing the concern she had felt just a few moments before. “I heard what Action thinks happened,” she informed him. “Tell me, is that what you think, too?” It pained her to even ask the question of him, a boy who had been nothing short of a brother to her for years, but she needed to know the truth, whatever it was.

“To hell with what Action thinks,” Tony dismissed quickly. “He’s all pent up. He says shit he doesn’t mean.”

“He may not mean it, but not everyone knows that,” Roxie pointed out.

Tony sighed. “Look, I know you didn’t rat Riff out… and I’ve told the guys that several times. Most of them believe me. But, let’s face it, we both know Riff’s word goes further with them than mine ever has.”

Roxie knew he was right, but she didn’t have to be happy about that fact.

“All we can do is wait ‘til he gets out,” Tony stated. He didn’t sound very happy about it, either. “He’ll explain everything to the guys, and you can come back. You know he’ll want to see ya.”

She thought about what Riff had said to her, as he was being dragged away by Schrank. I’ll find you. She had thought about those moments so many times over the past few weeks, over analyzing everything he said, desperately wanting to make sure she hadn’t missed anything. As much as she wanted to believe his words, she couldn’t in her right mind ever imagine a reason that he would want to see her again. Not after doing a month in the big house in her place.

Roxie sighed dejectedly, looking down at her shoes. They were all dusty now from taking the alleyways, but she didn’t care. “Have you heard from him at all?” she asked him timidly.

“Yeah, I got a letter from him ‘bout a week ago. He’s supposed to get released two weeks from Saturday.”

Riff had written Tony. She hadn’t received anything from him, not yet… which only served to fuel her worries.

As if Tony could read her mind, he put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Hey,” he began, waiting for her to acknowledge him. She looked up at him, though her head was still bowed. “It’s just county jail, but it is jail… I’m sure he’s got a lot on his mind.”

Most likely about how he can’t wait to get out so he can tell me to hit the road, she thinks bitterly. “You’re right,” she conceded, trying to appease him. Tony’s hand fell back to his side. “I suppose we should be kissing the ground Schrank walks on,” she continued, tone dripping with sarcasm. “He probably gets off on his ‘merciful deed’ of sparing Riff from Riker’s.”

That’s the place where her father went, and he never returned. That’s also the place where Riff’s own father spent time, and he did return… but he was never the same again. All of this, Tony knew.

“He’s not going to be the same,” Roxie realized aloud.

“No,” Tony agreed somberly. “But he’s got us, and you. You can come with us, when we go to pick him up… if ya tell me what happened.”

She broke from her temporary trance. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?” she asked him accusingly.

“Come on,” he implored, “we’ve never kept secrets like this from each other. Did you guys make it to the meet up alright?”

Roxie nodded.

“Then what happened? Was someone on to you?”

“No,” Roxie assured him. She and Riff had been smart about it, like they usually were. “They didn’t suspect a thing. We were up good, actually, by the time we headed out.” It was hardly a surprise, given the big names they heard were present. Each one had to have pockets stuffed with cash, and the more they would drink, the more readily they would withdraw it. Riff even swore he saw the deputy mayor there, but she wouldn’t have been able to pick that guy out of a lineup.

Tony was waiting for her to continue. “What happened next?” he urged.

Tony was desperate for answers, she could tell by the pleading look on his face. As much as she wanted to talk to him about everything, and hoped doing so would ease her mind, even if it was just a little bit, she realized that maybe he had been hoping to get the same out of speaking with her.

She cleared her throat, and leaned closer to him, voice low. “On our way out, we saw something we shouldn’t have. And they saw us.”

“What does that-”

“-And if I tell you anything more specifically than that,” she interrupted him urgently, gripping his upper arms tightly in an effort to get him to focus, “I may end up in an… unfortunate accident.”

She watched him carefully, noticing immediately when he realized what she was inferring. Her hands fell back to her side, and he cursed under his breath, before taking another moment to process everything.

The longer their conversation went on, the more her nerves picked up just talking about it. Not only was she still not fully convinced that they were out of the clear, but there was also the fact that the Egyptian Kings were quite possibly out at that very moment, looking for trouble. There was also her aunt to consider, who was probably already checking the clock and counting down the minutes until she should be home.

They could probably stand there talking for hours, but there simply wasn’t time.  “We walked for a bit,” she continued, releasing Tony’s arm, “and once we were convinced we weren’t being tailed anymore, we started to head back. I thought we were in the clear, until we hit West 184th. Cops were everywhere. I don;t know what it was, but whatever went down, it must have just happened, and we walked right into it. By the time we realized what was happening, it was too late.”

“What happened to the cash?”

“Riff stashed it in a dumpster down the alleyway by the corner.” It wasn’t ideal, but they both knew that they couldn’t get caught with it. If they had managed to outrun the cops, they could’ve come back for it. “Then we ran.”

She remembered the adrenaline rush coursing through her as they made their way down the back alleys. The narrow paths were sparsely lit by flashing blue and red lights. The pounding footsteps of the cops who had abandoned their vehicles in their pursuit of them grew louder and louder. Eventually, they hit a dead end, coming face to face with a tall fence. Riff scaled it effortlessly, and hopped down to the otherside. A second later, he found a weak spot in the fence, and pulled it back just far enough for her to slide through.

The fence had tripped up the cops on their tail, and bought them some time. For a moment, it seemed like they were going to actually slip away.

Then her damned heel broke, and she fell. She wasn’t injured, but it had cost them a few precious seconds, and before they knew it, the cops were just around the corner. She shouted at Riff, demanding that he go on without her, but he hesitated. That was all the time the cops needed, and the next thing she knew, Sergeant Schrank’s barking echoed down the alleyway, filling her ears.

“We couldn’t tell the cops why we were out, or what we had seen, so they took us in.”

Tony laughed, but it was joyless. He was in disbelief. “Rotten luck,” he decided, shaking his head. “Though, I suppose that’s something familiar around here. What did you end up telling Schrank?”

“Nothing,” she answered. “But Riff… Riff said he had some information for him. Schrank dragged him off, and I haven’t seen him since.”

“Riff must have told Schrank something he liked,” Tony realized. “Ain’t no way he wasn’t itching to try and press charges on both of you.”

“I know,” Roxie admitted. “... I don’t know why he did it, Tony.”

This seemed to surprise him. He raised an eyebrow at her. “Nah, Roxie… you know why,” Tony insisted calmly, looking down at her knowingly.

Before Roxie could ask Tony what he meant, the back door to the pub opened. Tony grabbed her by the arm once again, leading them back into the dark alleyways.

“It’s late,” he stated simply as they finally emerged back onto the street. “You should get home. I’ll keep watch.”

Roxie hesitated, once again wishing they had had more time. “Tony, wait-”

“Take this,” Tony instructed, thrusting a decently heavy object into her hands. She could barely see it under the faint streetlights, but she felt cool metal beneath her fingers. “A hammer,” he explained. “Velma told Grazi she thought your aunt may have nailed your window shut again.”

“She did,” Roxie confirmed, looking back at Tony. She reached out a hand to stop him, but he was already leaving. “Wait!” she called after him, moving to follow. He stopped, turned to face her, and lightly pushed her back onto the sidewalk.

“Go, Roxie,” he urged adamantly.

She silently watched him disappear back into the shadows. Part of her worried it would be the last time she would see him. The other part of her knew it just might be.

——————————————————————————

She removed the nails on her window the next day, though they still remained nearby at all times. Whenever Roxie left for school or work, she made a point to slide the nails back into the holes they’d been pulled from. That way, if her aunt decided to go into her room while she was out, she probably wouldn’t spare the window another glance. The hammer was hidden in a box underneath her bed.

If her aunt wanted to go through her room thoroughly, she would certainly notice the loose nails, and most likely find the hammer. Roxie was determined to not give her a reason to do that.

The next two weeks Roxie adhered to her aunt’s schedule religiously.  She was late coming home the night she’d spoken to Tony.. She told her aunt that her boss had kept her after her shift for a bit to discuss an upcoming order. Her aunt seemed to doubt the story initially, but ultimately accepted it.

That Saturday Tony had mentioned came and went. Roxie had done her homework during the day, and went to work that night. It was the first night in a while she hadn’t heard the footsteps of the “shadows” keeping a watchful eye on her.

Sunday passed at a painfully slow pace. Her schoolwork was finished. She wasn’t allowed out with friends anymore, not even Velma and the girls, not that they had spoken to her recently anyways. She was still iced out from them, and the Jets.

Early in the evening, her aunt bid her a goodnight as she left for her usual Sunday night shift. Feeling a bit dejected, and without anything else to do, Roxie contemplated turning in early.

No amount of sleep seemed to be enough lately, anyways. She’d lie awake for hours, thinking about what had happened, and if not that, worrying about the future. When she did sleep, she often dreamt of that night. While that wasn’t pleasant at all, the worst part about it was waking up alone, without Riff there, and unable to go see him. It only served to solidify the fact that he was in a cold cell downtown because of her.

She headed to her room, shut the door, and turned all the lights off, save the lamp on her desk.

Roxie sat down on the chair, and began shuffling around various papers that cluttered the surface of the desk. Eventually, she came across the map of the university. It had been in the same envelope with her acceptance notice and scholarship offer. There was a star marked on one of the buildings a bit off from the main center of campus. It signaled the dorm that she would be living in.

“I bet they don’t nail the windows shut,” she huffed to herself. The legs of the chair screeched in protest as she pushed away in one swift motion. Standing, she looked towards the window once again, hoping to see something- or rather someone- out there.

The firescape was empty.

She walked over to the window anyway. One at a time, she plucked away the nails once again, and placed them in a pile on the floor. When they were removed, she cracked the window open, just enough so that the sounds of the city filtered into the room, but not so much so that the nosy next door neighbor would notice.

She plopped onto her bed with a sigh, not bothering to change her clothes.

——————————————————————————

Some time later, a sudden whoosh of the window sliding fully open stirred her from sleep. She sat up, threw her legs over the side of the bed, and stood, watching the window carefully.

A familiar pair of boots came to rest on the window sill one at a time. Steady feet placed them carefully and quietly on the wooden floor. Not a moment later, the rest of him slid underneath the open window, and he rose to full height.

Riff took a moment to look around, his eyes quickly settling on her. Roxie stared at him for a moment, almost wondering if she was imagining his presence.

He smirked. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he complimented, his cool eyes looking her up and down.

Wordlessly, she took a step towards him, and when he opened his arms for her, she all but leapt into them.

The only things that could be heard were the sounds of the city as the two embraced each other for several moments. They clung to one another tightly, neither feeling the need to speak a word.

Roxie was the first to pull back, once the happiness she felt started to fade and the guilt began to take back over.

Riff’s arms remained wrapped around her, and he looked down at her slowly, almost hesitantly. Her eyes scanned over his face carefully, looking for any signs of injury. On the surface, he appeared fine. But when their eyes met once again, she noticed something wasn’t quite right. 

“I found ya,” he reminded her, giving her a tired smile. “Your aunt working tonight?”

Roxie nodded wordlessly.

“Ya know,” Riff began, “I don’t remember the last time you were speechless. I supposed you’d have a novel to recite to me by now.”

“I’m sorry-”

Riff placed a single finger over her lips, effectively silencing her. “Stop,” he insisted in a whisper,, before dropping his hand. “I made the decision to do it, and that’s that. I don’t want to hear another word from ya about it.”

Roxie was not satisfied with his response in the slightest, and wanted to discuss it further, but he sounded so resolute. Tonight would not be the time to hash it out. “Have you seen the gang?” she asked instead.

Riff nodded. “Tony told me what happened.”

“How are they?”

Riff sighed, his arms dropping from around her. “They’re glad I’m back, but it isn’t good,” he confided. His hand came up to scratch the back of his neck, something he tended to do whenever he was stressed.

There’d be a rumble soon. It was inevitable. It had happened with the Bishops, and the Emeralds after them. The Jets would come out on top again, and everything would go back to normal. If another gang caused trouble after that- it would end the same. An endless cycle.

“Did you explain to them what happened?”

“More or less.”

“Does that mean-”

“Roxie, please,” he pleaded, wrapping his hands around hers and pulling her closer to him. She didn’t fight him, allowing her hands to rest on his chest. “I don’t wanna to get into it. Let’s just… take a moment, hm?”

His eyes bore into hers, and for a moment, nothing else mattered. There was usually something unnerving about his gaze, there always had been. He had never judged her before, but she never felt more vulnerable than when his entire focus was on her. Though, perhaps that was less about his eyes, and more about the power he had over her.

It was unnerving this time, too. He was looking at her in a way he hadn’t before… as if he was taking every detail of her in.

“Why are you here?” she asked softly, breaking the silence.

He lightly placed a hand on the side of her face, and his thumb slid over her cheekbone gently. “I needed to see you,” he answered sincerely, as if it was the easiest thing he’d ever said.

“I would’ve met you anywhere, and I still would.” she reminded him patiently, her hand coming to rest over his own. “You only need to say the word.”

The smile he gave her in response was a somber one. “I know,” he acknowledged. Taking her hand in his own, he kissed her palm softly, before intertwining their fingers. The moonlight shone from the window, coating his face in the pale light. She didn’t miss the shining in his eyes as water glazed over them.

“You’re not here to stay.” It wasn’t a question.

He shook his head once. “No.”

Roxie began to pull away, but his hands reached for her, wrapping around her upper arms. He wasn’t gripping her tightly, he never did, but it was enough to stop her retreat.

“Why?” she asked him, looking everywhere but at him as she avoided meeting his eyes. “Is it because of what happened?”

“I already told ya it wasn’t,” he sighed.

“You shouldn’t have told Schrank anything,” Roxie insisted, unable to hide the anger in her voice. “This never would’ve happened.”

“Oh, yeah?” Riff challenged. “And what was I supposed to do? Keep quiet and watch ya get carted away to County, too?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustration. “I deserve it, don’t I? I was just as much responsible for us getting caught than you, if not more so. I was the reason we went out. I was the reason we got tailed, and had to take the long way back. I fell.” Now that she had begun to voice her guilt, it was hard to stop. “For god's sake, Riff, you’ve never had a problem calling things like they are. Tell me I didn’t deserve to go to jail, too.”

“I am calling it like it is,” Riff rebutted, frustration becoming evident. “Nevermind what we were doin’ before- you weren’t even involved with what we walked into.”

“Neither were you. Did you deserve to go to jail?”

“Yes!” he blurted out angrilly, his hands flying up in emphasis.

Roxie flinched at his outburst.

“Getting into trouble is all I know how to do, and it’s all I’ll ever do,” Riff explained. He was quiet for a moment, and then he let out a soft sigh, and his angry expression softened. “There’s no gettin’ out of here for guys like me. I’ll be here, in this neighborhood until the day I die… however soon that may be.”

Roxie bit her tongue, processing what he was saying. If he had ever had these thoughts before, he had never discussed them with her, and definitely not this openly. It worried her greatly.

“You need to get out of this neighborhood, while ya have the chance.”

So, it was about that. “I’ll stay here,” Roxie swore, taking a step towards him. He didn’t back away, but he didn’t embrace her, either. “Say the word, and I’ll stay here. I’m not at the university yet. I don’t have to go.” She stepped around him, walking over to her desk and picking up the map of the campus. Without a second thought, she turned to him, and ripped the paper right down the middle, letting the two halves flutter to the floor.

Riff watched her silently, waiting to see if she would continue. When she did not, he crossed the room to stand before her, putting his hands on both sides of her face calmly.

“Riff… tell me to stay, please,” she whispered to him.

He looked down at her with a pained expression. “I can’t.”

“Then tell me you want me to leave.”

To this, he said nothing. Instead, he leaned down, and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. While she was dazed by his action, he stepped away from her, and headed back towards the window.

“Damn you, Riff,” she called after him. “I can’t believe you- how could you not consider what I want? How could you take this choice away from me?”

He knew that her aunt had done that to her all her life- making the decisions for her, and telling her about it later. He knew in calling things off this way, it hurt her more than it probably would have otherwise. Still, he saw no other option.

He leaned forward, resting his hands on the window frame, and contemplated if he should say anything further and risk making her even more upset.

“When do I get to make my own decisions?” she demanded rhetorically, voice watery.

Riff looked out the window and up at the moon, unwilling to turn and face her just yet. “After this. The world is your oyster, kid.”

Roxie was too angry to form a response.

Riff turned to face her slowly, taking her in one last time. He chose not to dwell on the angry tears running down her face or the wounded look in her eyes. If he did, he might not have been able to resist the temptation to apologize and take everything back. This needed to be done.

He knew she was angry with him. She probably felt betrayed; he knew he would be in her shoes. But this last look would stick with him. Seeing her one last time, talking with her, no matter how it ended, and even if she was angry with him, was far better than if he hadn’t seen her again at all.

When he was ready, Riff turned back to face the window, and slipped out. He descended the fire escape with familiar ease. As he made his way down the back alley, he heard her shouting behind him, but forced himself to continue and not look back.

——————————————————————————

When he met back up with the crew later, he reiterated to them, as he had the day before, that Roxie had not sold him out.

“I thought you would’ve brought Roxie with you,” Tony noted, immediately noticing that something was wrong. The other guys might not have seen it, at least not right away, but Tony knew Riff like the back of his own hand.

“On an unrelated note,” Riff continued his announcement, looking away from Tony and back to the guys,  “Roxie and I aren’t together no more.”

As the majority of the gang processed the news in silence, Action grumbled something under his breath, and Riff either didn’t realize, or chose to ignore him. Tony looked at Riff, frowning deeply.

“So… what? We just supposed to cut ties, like that?” Diesel questioned, flipping the coin he always carried on him. “My girl is friends with her, Boss. How’s that gonna work?”

Riff shrugged nonchalantly. “You know how chicks are about breakups… it’s best to cut her off,  from all of us, cold turkey.” Riff straightened his jacket stiffly. “Who knows… maybe, if she cools down, I’ll let her back ‘round,” he joked.

Several of the guys nodded in confirmation, while the remainder still seemed a bit reluctant to accept the news. A-Rab, sensing the awkwardness, made a comment about turkey, almost immediately enthralling the gang into a discussion about whether turkey or chicken was superior.

“Riff,” Tony called to him, before pulling him aside as the rest of the gang began to choose sides. “What happened, man?” Tony asked him when they were out of earshot. “Roxie was so torn up about everything… it doesn’t make any sense.”

Riff scoffed with an empty smile, patting Tony on the back. “What do you mean? We broke up. Not everyone gets hitched, buddy boy.” He avoided Tony’s eyes, and withdrew the pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

Tony frowned, seeing right through Riff’s lie. As much as he wanted to call him out on it, he knew it wasn’t the time or the place.

“Instead of worrying about who I am and ain’t seein’, why don’t you catch me up on the latest with the Egyptian Kings?” Riff proposed, glancing at the rest of the guys, who continued to debate. He lit his cigarette, then looked back at Tony expectantly.

——————————————————————————

Eventually, Riff would discover that while the rest of the Jets, and even their girls, followed his orders and ultimately disassociated with Roxie, Tony had dissented. Tony continued to walk her home from work almost every night. Riff shadowed them, listening to their conversations. Sometimes, his name would come up. Most of the time though, their conversations omitted him entirely.

He’d never call Tony out on it. The only reason he even discovered what Tony was up to was because Riff had had the same idea. Regardless of how they had ended, the Egyptian Kings were still not in check, and he wanted- needed- to make sure Roxie got home safe, even if she didn’t know, and even if she hated him now.

Besides, Roxie needed a friend, since she was cut off from everyone else, per his orders. If Tony could provide that for her, at least until she was able to leave the neighborhood… it was the least she deserved.

Someday, she’d have a rich husband, a fancy house with a white picket fence, and a load of kids who’d look just like her. Maybe she’d recall these times, this neighborhood where she grew up, and the people she knew. Maybe she’d think of it fondly, but she probably won’t. After all that time passed, maybe she’d forgive him.

A/N: If you enjoyed, and feel inclined to do so, please consider leaving a like. :)

Part 3

Masterlist

[poorwritingandstalecoffee]

there's a storm of fire and fury burning in your eyes

Prompt request: Can I request Alcina with a firefighting gf that comes home after fighting a large fire all day? All tired, smelling like smoke and covered in soot and gf just wants to curl up to Alcina?

Summary: Y/N is a firefighter and comes home to Alcina and finds comfort in her girlfriend after a rough day of fighting fires

Word count: 3.5K

Rating: 16+, mentions of death, burning bodies, sex, and anxiety

You were always drawn to fire; ever since you were little, the bright sparks of fury called out to you with a dangerous, alluring nature that had often led you to lean in with curiosity and wonder swirling in your eyes. The sparkling reds and yellows would warm your skin, set a tingling sensation alight within your stomach that made your heart race, and step closer to the raging flames with excitement and adrenaline coursing through your blood.

It wouldn't be until your teen years that you discovered just how genuinely deceiving and hazardous those hot flames were when you were forced to bear the brute force of their scorching pain and the suffocating smoke as you woke to red hot blazes running up the curtains of your old bedroom. You remember how those firey limbs reached out to lick at your heels as you raced to your little sibling’s room to drag them out of slumber and away from the fire engulfing the walls. The memory of screaming for your parents through the choking smoke and feeling it burn down your throat and through your lungs was forever etched into your mind. All you could feel was the weight of your little brother’s body press down on your back as you carried him down the stairs and tried to blindly trek through the thick smoke that was building on top of you. The fire was roaring and raging its hell above and around you, and all you could think of what that you still had not found your parents and had you already passed their bedroom? Or was it in the other direction, toward the hallway that was swallowed by flames? You remember so clearly to this day of the paralyzing fear that gripped you when the thought of being too late settled itself into your mind. As you stood still among the dancing fires and the blackening smoke, as you heard the house groan in agony and felt the walls buckle and shift under the merciless beating of the blistering flames, as you listened to your little brother cry and scream in your ear you felt your heart tear itself in two as you turned and ran in the opposite direction. Pushing through the smoke, bumping past burning indiscernible objects, and using your scorched fingers to feel your way to the front door and burst through with roaring flames chasing after you.

After that, you had come to view fire and all its maddening destructiveness with a hatred that consumed you, much like how those voracious burning flames of white-hot energy had consumed your parents. Since then, you gazed upon Mother Nature’s fiery with wary bitterness and made it your mission to become the best female firefighter of your class. You pushed yourself through every training course and aced through every test just to have the ability never to let another soul experience that horrible, screaming, terrorizing pain.

That is how you found yourself working at one of the finest firehouse stations in your city. The feeling of soot clinging to your skin rarely seemed to go away, and it seemed like all you could smell now, at least while you were on duty, was acrid smoke. After running from one burning building to the next and barely getting enough time to scarf down a meal, you were ready to go home and collapse into the safe arms of Alcina. Alcina. The very reason you give every ounce of strength you have into pushing back the fires instead of letting them consume you. Okay, maybe not the only reason; her daughters, your brother, and she were the reasons why you chose to wake up every day and race back into those all too familiar flames to drag people out to safety.

People say there are good and bad days to every job. But what is considered a good day for a firefighter? Personally, for Y/N, it was those moments when she came crashing through the obscure smoke holding someone’s loved one, someone’s child, someone’s friend, and being able to hand them back to them with their hearts still beating. Yeah, those were the good days. Today was not one of them.

She shoved piles of clothes into an overnight bag and ignored the protests of her weary muscles, the dirt, soot, and ashes that made their home in the crevices of her skin, and the dark image of burning, screaming bodies. You clamped your eyes shut and tried to tell yourself that you never had a choice, that your captain ordered you to get out of there because the smoke was turning black and the roof was about to collapse. You tried not to remember the agonizing cries that rang out from underneath the burning chandelier. All you could think was that if you could just lift it slightly higher and slip your shoulder in there, then you could pull them out, just a little higher. But the metal was scorching hot and making your gloves feel on fire; the captain was yelling into your radio to get the hell out of there, but you just needed a little bit more time; just a few more seconds is all you asked for…

“Y/N?”

“Ahh!—ohh shit. Jeez you scared me Lex.” You laughed nervously, your hand pressed against your rapidly beating heart. You pushed the rest of your clothes and toiletries into your bag, anxiously glancing at your friend. “What’s up?”

“Are—are you okay? You zoned out there for a few minutes,” Lex asked worriedly. She and Alcina were the only two, aside from her daughters, who knew of your grief-stricken past, its connections to your hostile relationship with fire, and the real reason why you joined the squad.

Hurriedly you slung your bag onto your shoulder, anxious to leave the station and all it's troublesome reminders behind for the next 48 hours. “Yeah, I'm good. Just tired and ready to get home.” You smiled placatingly, hoping she would drop the subject.

“Okay… well if you want to talk about toda—”

“No! I just—I'm sorry I yelled but I really don't want to do anything but go home and forget it all over a glass of wine and hold my girlfriend.” You ran your hand through your hair, cringing at the bits of ash that fell from it. “Another time, yeah?”

“Yeah yeah go kiss your girlfriend. Fuck it off,” Lex smirked and leaned against the door to the bunks.

“Haha, go get laid asshole, and stop trying to push your sexual tension onto me and my girlfriend,” you glared half-heartedly and rolled your eyes at your friend’s dirty humor.

Lex held her hand to her chest with false surprise, “You wound me!” Crossing her arms, she leaned back with a satisfied smirk. “I will have you know that I thoroughly enjoyed myself some pussy just three days ago thank you very much.”

“Oh and I’m sure you felt every bit of that reward waking up the next day huh.” You walked out and flicked the lights off, knowing she would follow.

“Oh you damn right I did, ughh, it was fantastic, amazing... maybe I should call her...”

“Okay, I'm leaving now before you start talking about how well I'm sure it went, and my ears begin to bleed.” You laughed and scrunched your nose while unlocking your car and throwing the overnight bag in.

Lex giggled amusedly and pulled you into a hug. “Fine I won't relay all the hot, steamy, sweaty sex we had,” she smirked before pulling back to look at your disgusted face. It was too easy really, and since you both thought of each other as sisters, it made it all the more enjoyable for her to watch you recoil at the very nude images replaying through your head.

“I'm going to vomit on your shoes if you keep that up I swear I'll fucking do it.”

“Nope! No no no,” Lex moved back and raised her hands in surrender.

You cackled as you slid into your car and called back to her, “See ya later Lex,” before driving off and watching her surprised, annoyed glare fade into the distance.

Finally, you pulled into the drive of your home and as you got out and made your way up the walkway your mind took you back to the few hours before, where you were forced to listen to the cries of pain and terror slowly die out until there was nothing left but the crackling roar of the fire in your ears and the heavy weight of the hot metal chandelier bear down on your arms. You sagged into your hoodie as you pushed open the door and dragged yourself through the threshold, almost crying out in relief because thank God you're home. You reached out to turn the lights, wait—why were they off?

“Welcome home draga!”

“Welcome home Y/N!”

Startled, you looked up to find Alcina and the girls jump up suddenly, holding brightly colored welcome banners and grinning so widely and beautifully you flinched. You slowly took in the streamers and balloons strewn about the living room. When your eyes landed on the red velvet cake resting in Alcina’s arms, red and yellow icing curled across the front that spelled ‘Welcome home firefighter❤️’, your eyes glazed over with tears. You couldn't breathe, your lungs felt like they were choking around smoke, your heartbeat pulsed in your ears, your chest was burning, and as you clutched it, you covered your mouth to hide the sob that escaped. You fell to the floor and hid your face in your knees because all you could see were charred bodies, but the girls made you welcome signs, and Alcina baked a cake. It was too much, and you couldn't breathe.

“Y/N!” Alcina cried out, hurriedly put the cake on the coffee table, and ran toward you. She hesitantly reached out, “Darling, what is wrong—”

You turned blindly towards her because by now your vision was gone, and all that was left were painful, horrifying memories. “I—I… can’t breathe.”

Alcina’s eyes widened in horror. “Girls take the cake away and give us some privacy.”

Danelia wrapped her arms around herself and sadly looked between Alcina and you. “But—”

“NOW! Please!”

As the girls left Alcina frantically looked back to you and slowly moved towards you. “Draga mea can I hold you please,” she shakily asked.

The second your head nodded she pulled you into her lap and wrapped her arms around you. She let you bury your face into her chest and cling to her as you went through the motions of your panic attack. Alcina whispered words of encouragement in your ear while she slowly rubbed up and down your back. She could feel your heart beating erratically against hers, felt your hands clutch at her night robe, and as you gasped into her chest she only held you tighter. While pressing kisses into your dirty hair, she slipped her hand under your hoodie to press her hand against your shaking back because skin-to-skin contact had always seemed to calm you down before. Gradually your breathing calmed, your heart stopped its marathon, and the crippling fear that had seized your brain slowly retreated until all that was left was pain and overwhelming sorrow. Your gasps turned the sobs, and when Alcina deemed it okay to move you, she stood up and carried you to the couch, where she sat down and turned you to straddle her waist.

Faintly through the fog of your cries you could hear her humming a tune next to your ear and drawing swirlies and infinity signs up and down your back. Through the continuous streams of tears, you felt her sway you back and forth as an old Romanian lullaby sang through her lips and flowed into your ears and settled itself within your aching heart. Alcina wrapped you within her soft warmth and patiently waited for you to calm down; she quieted your wailing mind with deep vibrating melodies and soothed your worn-out soul with a swaying, warm embrace that engulfed all of you.

Eventually, your sobs died down to whimpers and hiccups, and then finally, finally, they ceased to nothing more than a tired sigh. “Sorry I ruined the welcome party,” you whispered hoarsely.

“No ingerasul meu I should have asked you before letting the girls go ahead and decorate everything.” Alcina kissed along your cheekbone and tilted your head up to press her forehead against yours. “Can you tell me what caused this one?”

Sniffling you turned to lay your head on her shoulder and wrapped the ends of her curls around your fingers to distract you from what was to come. Quietly you whispered, afraid if you spoke too loud the images and the screams would come back, “Today we had back to back fires and…one of them was really terrible.”

Alcina smoothed her finger along your temple and pushed a strand of hair behind your ear before settling her concerned light-brown, golden eyes on your tired, red-rimmed e/c ones. Gently she asked, “What happened?”

Once you felt her tighten an arm around your waist and see the look of unabashed love and concern reflecting in her eyes, you sighed into her neck and relaxed against Alcina’s body. Twirling the silky, black curls around your finger distracted you from the gruesome images flying through your mind in rapid-fire, and feeling Alcina hold you so protectively and gently against her reassured you that it was okay to let go. To let it all out and expose your broken, burnt heart because she wasn't going anywhere.

“The last call was to a three-story house in the suburbs of the city. Once we got out there we saw that the fire had spread through the whole house but the smoke was still mostly clear, so the captain let the squad go in rescue the victims.” You stopped for a second, swallowed the lump in your throat, and traced patterns with your finger along Alcina’s collarbone. Chokedly you tried to drag the words out of your throat but they wouldn’t come and the burning people filling your head.

“Sshh beloved it’s okay, take your time,” Alcina whispered against your temple. You focused on the feeling of her lips kissing down your head, along your earlobe, and over your shoulder because it was easier to just feel her than remember the people you couldn’t save.

You inhaled her perfume and turned to look at the fireplace, letting the contained, caged flames dance in your eyes. You leaned back into Alcina’s frame and tiredly told the rest. “It was a family—the victims—two parents and three children. I heard one of the kids… they sounded so little… I heard them scream and I ran up the front stairs. When I got up there… the mother and the… a little girl and boy were trapped under a burning chandelier. I tried so hard to lift it, but everytime I did another part broke off and fell on top of them and—the mother was—she was hooked through the abdomen by one of the metal arms. I learned later that the father and the other little girl were pulled out—but I couldn’t,” as silent tears flowed down your face, you whispered, “I couldn't free them. The smoke had turned black but I had most of the chandelier broken off, I almost had the kids free and then I could just carry the woman out with the rest of it. I almost had them damnit, but captain had yelled to get out and the roof started collapsing around me. I… I told myself just a few more seconds and I would have them, just a few more seconds and it would be okay. But—suddenly they weren't screaming anymore, I couldn’t hear their cries and when I looked up they—their b-bodies, their faces—they were gone.” Slowly, numbly you said, “there was nothing left of them, just charred pieces.”

You felt something wet dropping onto your shoulder, and when you looked back, you saw tears flowing from Alcina's beautiful eyes. She cupped your cheek and leaned down to press her lips against your forehead. “I am so so so sorry you had to go through that dragostea mea. No one should ever have to experience that, and it tears me apart to think that you have. I want so badly to take away your pain, all of those damned memories, because you my darling, my beloved, deserve to feel nothing but absolutely, utterly unabashed love and happiness for the entirety of your life.”

“I am happy Alci, here with you and the girls, I'm the happiest I could ever be.” You turned around and held her hand as her thumb skimmed over your cheek. “Today was just—”

“Terrible, horrible, wholly monstrous and—yet you braved through it my love. You did everything you could Y/N—”

“It wasn't enough.” You watched Alcina shake her head and smiled gently at you and thought how could I ever deserve her? How does she do that—love me?

“Listen to me iubita mea,” she placed her finger under your chin and tilted your face to meet her intense stare. “You choose to wake up every day and do something that most people cannot even fathom, every time you put on the suit and helmet you decide to jump into hell’s fire so others do not have to. You choose to use your past, trauma, and grief as fuel for your determination to wage a battle against Mother Nature's most hellish devil. And no, not every single time you will come out on the winning side; there are moments when you are unable to carry the innocents and you lose them, but my darling, that only pushes you to try harder the next time,I know because I witness it every time you get back up and walk out there. There has never been nor will there ever be the perfect savior who wins every battle because human beings are not perfect love. And I think that is what makes the human race special, that is what makes you special, despite those setbacks, despite the deaths and the sorrows you try again and again to get the next person, because walking through the darkness only pushes you harder to make it through to the light.” Alcina sighed, and the edge of her lips curved up into a small comforting smile. “Humans beings are connected by one very simple, universal, notion draga: we're all driven either to save or destroy one another, regardless of which path you choose they both come with very powerful forces that will stop at nothing to beat the breath out of you. But it's how you react; what you decide to do next when that happens is what defines who you are ingerasul meu.”

All you could do was simply stare at Alcina as her words sunk into your heart and soul. While the tear tracks dried on both of your faces you marveled at the woman before you, you gazed into the depths of her eyes and wondered how this person, this brilliantly compassionate and strong woman holding you could utter such wonderful, extraordinary words and remain completely calm and at peace. You wrapped your arms around her shoulders and leaned forward to meet her gaze. The flecks of orange and yellows shimmering in her eyes settled your breathing and reignited a spark of heat that wrapped around your body and pushed all the dark, damaging thoughts that threatened to overwhelm your brain to fade into nothing. Your heart calmed and excited itself all at once by her words and the way Alcina was looking at you now.

“Y-you really believe all that,” you asked as your brows scrunched. “Because I…I don't know if I can if you don't,” you said fearfully before biting your lip to keep from whining with anxiety.

Alcina swiped her thumb across your bottom lip to pull it from your teeth and leaned down to peck your lips lightly. “Of course I do beloved, they ring more truth than the rising of the sun or the coming of the tides. I wouldn't say them for your cute little ears to hear if I believed otherwise.”

You giggled at her teasing and let her words sink into your mind as the depressing grief and guilt that plagued your heart gradually gave way to hope and a love that was so powerful and dominant it could move mountains with the sheer force of its feeling. And it was all for Alcina.

“Thank you Alci, you are my anchor, my savior, my sun and moon, and I thank the stars every day for allowing me to be on the receiving end of your love. … I don't know what I would do without you my dear. I love you.” You spoke softly and quietly because the depth of your words sang out to Alcina through your gentle smile and glistening eyes.

A delicate pink blush bloomed across her cheeks and you ran your fingers across the warm flesh and marveled at it because you had done that. Alcina chuckled at your wide eyes and pulled you up to rest her head on your shoulder. “I love you too, draga mea.”

[jomamaofficial]

You should have said something: Finale (Bakugou x fem!Reader)

A/N: HELLO BESTIES, IT'S YOUR *lmao I just realised I wrote sentimental here instead of CRUSTY here* CRUSTY TOE HERE. Now please, for the love of whoever's up there, PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS. I'm not going to dawdle along because this was the finale you all were waiting for, so enjoy. Social Media & LinkTree & Discord Server TW: Very gruesome descriptions of: Death, Burning, Heavy cursing, Blood, Abuse. Masterlist Taglist: @spicy-therapist-mom @speedmetalqueen @silentw-lkr @loki-an-idiot @clickbait-official @captainchrisstan @kamalymaly @idk-sam @runrabbitrun3 @power-house-fan12 @mrslawliet @memeingcheetah27 @lonleyweeb77 @midnight-storm Word Count: 1743

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Sirens flooded the scene, police cars blinding passerbys. Ambulances rushed to the location, paramedics pushing their way through the crowd of people, the heat travelling the smell of iron across the streets of Musutafu. Firefighters reached the estate, dragging people away from the hazard, eyes gawking at the uproar of fire. The house was engulfed in flames, crying voices piercing through the ears of those who looked on. Ashes here and ashes there, belongings erupting into soot and red embers.

A body was heaved onto the stretcher, blood staining the white cotton.

“The heart rate is lowering, I repeat the heart rate is lowering.”

The static noise from the walkie talkie was merely another addition to the tumultuous screams and orders.

Wind ran through his hair, panic stricken over the nurse's face who ran as fast as her environment could let her, the heavy but precious, bleeding body straining her arms and staining her hands.

The door was held open, commands being barked at her.

The reporters bombarded her, obstructing the nurse’s view. She shoved past them; her heart hammered in her chest inspecting the monitor, her movements speeding up as she reached her destination. The body was rushed into the ambulance, attached to pipes and machines.

It was the last thing the public saw before the door was shut and the sirens fled away.

Trending headlines and hashtags spread like wildfire.

Masaru switched on the TV, his wife finishing up her dinner in the other room.

“I am now live at the Bakugou-L/N estate. Word from our information team has come out and the fire has been going on for twenty minutes, however these twenty minutes were enough for Prohero Ground Zero to be sent to the emergency room after a local found him covered in burn marks and injuries inside his already smoking house. Prohero Y/HN is nowhere to be found and all forms of contacts have been shut off. I am now handing over to Tanaka-san who is live at the-”

Switched off. Masaru sat there glued to his seat with his fingers pressing on the power button.

-

Hope came crashing down and you could only stare at the broken screen of your phone, tiny glass particles spewed on the floor.

Your skin was boiling up but your blood ran cold. Your throat dried up but your tears were wet. You couldn’t feel anything but his nails, digging in through the layers of clothing you comforted yourself in.

If you could go back in time, you would have. If you could stop yourself from dialing Izuku’s number, you would have. Anything, anything would have been better than this.

Silence. And you still had the urge to cover your ears. There was nothing to look at apart from your only form of communication. Everything else was black. And the traitorous phone that gave you away was dissipating as well. It faded away from your sight, leaving you a wide smile on your face. Too wide. Stretching from one cheek to the other, your lips were quivering, forcing it to stop. But it didn’t stop. It was getting wider and wider and it was hurting but could you stop it? No.

You couldn’t stop anything. Not this marriage, not this moment, not your own body.

He pulled on your hair and you couldn’t even stop the pain. He crushed your face between his hands, searing pressure building up in your skull and you still couldn’t stop him. He shouted and he screamed and it was slowly seeping into your skull how loud he really was. Nothing would stop. You couldn’t stop it.

You were useless. Your shrieks were useless because he drowned them out with his own voice.

His words were barely comprehensible. You could either focus on the warm blood trickling down your hairline, or him.

But that took energy. And right now, trying to stay alive was sucking all of the energy out of you.

“YOU FUCKING BROKE RULE NUMBER THREE, YOU FUCKING WHORE.”

Rule number three spiked your interest. Not because you remembered what it was. It only drew your attention to him amidst all the repeated curses and the names and the agony, ‘rule number three’ was something new.

Why would you understand rule number three though, you couldn’t even understand why you were smiling, giggling underneath your breath.

“And out of all the people you could have gone to”, he sucked in a breath, squeezing your cheeks. He could feel your clenched teeth fighting against the strength of his hold.

“You fucking went to that useless cunt Deku”, Bakugou spat out, a crazed glint in his eyes as he felt your face shake and crumble under his grip.

“Where is he now huh?” he scoffed, a breathy laugh escaping from the depths of his body.

“WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT PATHETIC BITCH NOW?” Screaming once again, he activated his quirk, missing you by a hair. The flames mocked you, free to move, free to grow.

“Is he gonna come and get you now? See your precious ‘Izu-kun’ anywhere?” he derided, smiling at the blackened area his palms left on your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’M SORRY.”

Your tears said it enough, tears that were mixed in with the sweat and blood that dripped from your forehead. All you wanted was someone, someone who would hold you and stroke your head and clean you up. Someone who would take him away from you and let you live in a fantasy where you weren’t wrong anymore.

You apologized in the false anticipation that he would stop, and caress your face and pepper it in small kisses. You apologized in the false anticipation of thinking that’s what he needed all along. Just an apology.

So when he pushed you off of the sofa, your knees igniting in irritantance and bruises, you could only look at him. And when he crouched down in front of you, tilting your chin upwards, your heart almost fluttered at the thought that he would pull you into a kiss. A warm kiss where you would feel at home and feel loved.

The sad part was that you knew that you would forgive him if he kissed you once.

But the worst part was that you knew this would never happen. And it didn’t. But you were happy to live in your delusion. Because your delusion masked the sheer force at which he defiled your body.

The lethal blaze mirrored the lethal blaze that ignited his eyes. And this was the last time you’d ever see such hate, and animosity in them.

With your hands shielding you too late, all you saw was a blinding light shining through you, filling every crevice in your body with a scorching glow. But then it was extinguished by the darkness.

Alarms were going off in your head, telling you to breathe quickly and panic and scream and reach out and find something to see. And you did. And it entertained him.

So small and so vulnerable, scrambling around beneath him to try and escape. But he had you under his grip. And he wasn’t going to let you go until you remained lifeless under him.

Smoke infiltrated your lungs, forcing you to flail and writhe on all fours. You were heaving, trying oh so very hard to breathe in the oxygen that limitlessly surrounded you.

But you were useless. And you couldn’t breathe to save your life.

Coughing and slobbering, kneeling in front of him, you begged.

“Please, forgive me.”

“Please, I’m sorry.”

“Please, I didn’t mean to.”

“PLEASE, MAKE IT STOP. PLEASE JUST MAKE IT STOP.”

The fumes were stabbing at your throat, filling your head with fog.

And your world was running slowly. The noise was slowed, darker and deeper, slurred beyond understanding. The agony was slow; equally as painful, but slow. It gave you little breaks in between to piece everything together, bit by bit.

Growing up, your world was black and white: heroes were benevolent, there to serve the society and protect them whereas villains were malevolent, there to wreck the balance of society and harm them as they pleased.

Growing up, the first people you relied on were heroes. Even as the Number 3 Hero, Y/HN, you relied on your colleagues who worked day and night to ensure the safety of the country you served.

Maybe that was your downfall. Blindly trusting heroes as if they were some sort of untouchable deities who could never harm. Because here you were, taking the last few breaths with your world spinning around you and being snatched away from you.

And it wasn’t at the hands of a villain that you were dying. It was at the hands of your so-called superior, the Number 2 Hero: Ground Zero.

Ground Zero; the hero who everyone respected but feared. His snarl, his anger, his drive. The very hero who was found in every treacherous battlefield. He was the same hero who took on anything he found that threatened the life of the citizens he made his duty to protect from harm's way.

But who would take him on when he caused harm to you?

No one.

It wasn’t the smoke, or the burns, or the bleeding that caused you to take your last breath. It was the realization that no one would save you.

-

The pulse under Katsuki’s fingers diminished until it was nothing. And he cried. Veins standing out in livid ridges, his eyes seared in rage as they watered and dripped down his face, cooling his body in the circle of fire he put himself in.

If he wasn’t trained to suck his guilt up every time his hands were responsible for someone’s downfall, he would have been consumed in his own self loath…

But what was the point of feeling guilty when you deserved it?

It was because of you Eijiro broke up with him. And he internally promised himself he would always stand by this.

Blinking away his tears, he channeled all the remaining energy he had, letting his anger flow through out of his body.

His wrists were giving in but he swore it was the final time. Just one more blow. One more big blow.

Silencing his cries underneath the deafening roar of his explosions, he clenched his jaw, pressuring his body on and on.

No one would find you now. No one would know.