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lovee-infected · 5 years ago

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Hello! ♥ Can I request headcanons or oneshot (whichever is easier) about how the twst boys react when they discover that MC is a girl, because they thought MC was a pretty boy, someone like Epel, when an unexpected rain happens during flying class and they can see the silhouette of the breasts or the vibrantly colored bra under the wet T-shirt 👀

At some point they all go : “My expectations for you were low , but holy f ”

Riddle Rosehearts

Class 2 E had to take Riddle who crashed the ground from the 20 meter height to the nurse office afterwards

His pe grades were already horrifying and with those two tips of something he saw under your wet clothes , it isn't really strange to end up in bed

Thankfully he doesn't end up with a broken leg , but that seemed way better than having this broken sanity now : (y/n) is a girl...?

He gets red but not of any anger , instead embarrassment . He has been treating you too casually good lord , he is never the same with girls

Riddle doesn't talk to you for a few days because he now realizes how lame your relationship may seem ; many things he should have done , many things he shouldn't have done

Would things still be the same ? Well it has to be he , thought . After all you didn't ever hide anything or lie about your gender , it was his misunderstanding

Well now , maybe he wants to treat you a bit... softer ?

Trey Clover

He isn't terrified by the gender , he is terrified by the way he saw it : Wet clothes , squishy big things under your shirt with a visible color...

He sweats at even saying it by word he wasn't ; he wasn't expecting that at all

He tries to hide his blush but that doesn't really work ; everyone knows that Trey isn't one to blush easily

He decides that it's better to skip the class now ( His eyes need some fresh air) . Just a few hours away , and he seems to be already used to it

He has to admit that it's somehow creepy to see the guy who you always liked having around is actually a girl , but he decides to pretend that he already knew it

Male or female , you're the same to him . The lovely and adorable (y/n) you always were

But still , this got him thinking...does he need to treat you like a girl sometimes ? Stuff that just girls do , say or like ?

Cater Diamond

He... notices the big deal when he's taking a rainy day selfie with you . He is making sure that you both look good but suddenly his eyes lay at the sight of your chest through his phone...

His eyes grow wider and he doesn't notice when he presses the button : The sound of his phone's flash almost made him drop it

You ask if he's alright but Cater just gives you a nervous laugh and say that the phone just slipped for a second . He neither shows you the pic you just took nor agrees on taking a second one when you ask him to

He leaves in pretext of picking his umbrella up but instead , runs to a corner where you couldn't see him : He brings that selfie from his gallery and zooms on your chest . He wants to make sure of what he just saw

Which one's worse ? The neon pink bra under your T-shirt or the... clearly visible tip of your nipple under it ? Damn you are laying your breasts on his hand in the pic...

He quickly saves it though his private albums . On the second thought , he sends all pictures he had from you to that folder as well

Well , he'll get used to it right? Perhaps he can now flirt more comfortably with you knowing that you're actually a girl . The only important thing for him is too make sure that no one ever finds out about photos he has on that private folder ; the one he keeps specifically for you

Deuce Spade

"E-eh??" Remember what happened with Eliza ? This is the second version of it . Even during his rage days ( Wild yellow hair and random fights with others) he lacked the ability to even say hi to a girl . And here he is now spending all those days together without knowing that you were a girl !??

His whole personality almost cracks for a second . All those dirty stuff other first years had shared about girls flashes before his eyes . He wasn't damn prepared -

He couldn't be any more thankful that you couldn't see the horrifying scenes and sounds through his mind at the moment- He just leaves before you could even see him blush

Ace doesn't stop teasing him though , late at the night inside Heartslabyul's , Ace is walking on his nerves asking him to tell what's wrong . Ace isn't the only curious one ; soon all his classmates too keep asking Deuce to say what is bothering him

Deuce has decided to keep his mouth shut until he comes over this fact on his own , and he's strong on it . There's no way that he'd let anyone recognize his anxiety with women

He knows his friends better than this and doesn't want to be dared to steal your underwear or poke your breasts in another round of truth or dare

Let's just...hope that things will soon get better for him or , perhaps you can be his chance to overcome his lack of skills with women ?

Ace Trappola

"Holy sh-" He then gets fired from the pe class for his impolite usage of words- ( School rules , right ?) Not that he cares though

Comparing to Deuce , he's a lot better and more experienced especially because he has been in a relationship before... which is both good and bad

The last time he got this close to any girls before you was with his ex-girlfriend ; and to be honest even that relationship didn't brought them as close as you two are now . The thought of going through similar things with a new one even though he no longer thinks about his ex ... that kinda hurts

Maybe he would've died to tell Deuce what he found out if old memories didn't haunt him . He isn't an awkward realizing your gender like Deuce is , but he can tell that it's kinda hard for him to deal with it . Mostly because of how close and dear you are to him now...

He finally realizes that he doesn't deserve carrying the shame and anxiety on his own and tells Deuce ; well at least calming Deuce down will make him pay least attention to his own problems

Leona Kingscholar

He almost chokes- He was standing in the corner without a single drop of water on his hair while you got too wet as if you took a shower with your clothes on

He is teasing you likr always again until he realizes a second color under your white clothes ... no . please don't be

He prefers to imagine that you're a guy having the kink of wearing feminine underwear . He isn't ready to accept that you're a girl and he still denies it after seeing the vibrantly visible bra with his own two eyes

God...he teased you , kicked you , laughted you off and literally stepped on you ; that's what he usually likes to treat others so..? But not a lady , never . He is raised better this to end up neglecting a lady's great level and worth

Now considering how he's been teasing you so far , what did you think of him..? Do you consider him an asshole who has no respect for women due to how he treated you ??

He is really stressed out and doesn't know what to do , he just takes off his own jacket and quickly comes to you , wrapping it around your wet body and hair and taking you to a warmer place . He keeps asking if you're alright ? Didn't you catch a cold ? Do you need a doctor ?

Leona doesn't know if your fascinated gaze means a yes or no , and it isn't going to help

He isn't going to explain himself right now , maybe give it some time ?

The only reason he treated you this casually was because he was comfortable with you and it was all...a way of showing admiration ?

Maybe it gets better when he explains himself

Ruggie Bucchi

His mouth drops open when he realizes the bra as you two were drying yourselves after the rain . (y/n) is a she...!?

He doubts , he would doubt it again if he even takes a closer look . Suddenly his body feels warmer and his cheeks get red . No way...

Ruggie barely talked to any girls other than his own family and even skipped conversations when girls were brought up , he isn't mentally prepared for it !

But now he is changing with you at the same room ?? Wait wait wait- He might act like a brat but he isn't a jerk

He leaves because he's sure that you need some privacy ; all though he still refuses to believe that you're a girl...

You never ever mentioned your gender in front of him and he never asked , but did anyone else know it except him ? He just wouldn't dare to ask

Well girl or not , he doesn't stop teasing you in general ; but also learns not to go too far since it's still hard for you to be wrapped in an all boy school...you need more support

Jack Howl

He doesn't mind going blind after seeing those nipples under your wet T-shirt . He first thought that they were a bit too big for a boy but...he soon realized that they weren't even for a boy-

He had to take a small look between your legs because he couldn't resist- he had to make sure . And NO ! He didn't see what he wished to see there

He still can't make sure ?? Those things usually proved someone being a girl but still , there is no way to make sure unless he asks you ; but how can he ? No way , he'll just melt down

He doesn't mention anything in front of you but tries indirectly bringing the issue of your gender up with Ace and Deuce : Didn't (y/n) tell you two about her schedule today?

" Her...?"

Well great , now Ace and Deuce have joined him on the ‘terrified of your gender’ army . The only way to make sure is either asking you or... stealing something that could prove it . Someone has to get inside your room but which one of them now...?

Azul Ashengrotto

He is vibing with the pleasant rain as it made today's pe sessions a bit better for him . He asks you to join him

He just takes his glasses off for a second to dry them and- BANG

The color of your bra was too visible that he could even see it without his glasses on

He immediately puts them on and takes a better look , well great now he can clearly see your breasts closely . How bad he wished that he went blind for a second...

You don't get why Azul seems to be studying your chest so you ask if something's wrong?

Azul is pulled out of his thoughts and embarrassment takes him over because you realized what he was staring at : Pathetic

Azul excuses himself telling you that he has to take his pills before he returns to his Octopus form and disappears

How dumb he could be not to realize it till now... Beside that - Why the hell didn't those two tall sticks ( a.k.a Floyd and Jade) realize it either !?

God God God...he keeps swallowing his eyes at the thought...

How can he get over the fact that he was being with a girl all this time...?

Floyd Leech

Well of course he is shocked , Shrimpy was supposed to be a guy but he actually is a little girl ? Meh , what a disappointment

Well , body is body to him so he isn't really shocked or freaked out to see , well , those things under your shirt

He might not be that fascinated , but still has doubts . While you two are taking a walk back to Ramshackle dorm , he just doesn't stop staring at your chest and doesn't mind you noticing him either

To be honest , he now seems to be liking it . You were just a kiddo he always enjoyed teasing but now that you're a girl...? How different would things be ? And would the way he treated you make you possibly... have those girlish feelings for him ? Sounds fun

While saying goodbye at your door he stops for a second to say something . You don't quite get what he asked but he knows better himself : " Random question but- are those seriously soft to squeeze ?"

Jade Leech

Just as Floyd , he doesn't mind you being a girl . He actually appreciates you even more now. Night Raven College isn't a place for weak people and still , to think that a small human girl like you could last this long here... Farewell , human beings can be really interesting he can tell

He gently offers you his coat and escorts you to a warmer place , telling you to change into something dry before you catch a cold

Well the first day is nothing different or weird , but the upcoming days prove how creepy he can be...

He doesn't mind popping up out of nowhere to tell you to choose underwears with a less noticable color at school and it just makes you melt ; not just because it's embarrassing to be told so but also because it proved that Jade is watching you

He does do some research on surface females to get to know the differences between what he expected you to be and what you really are better ; not that he has a complaint though

Jamil Viper

He exactly knows what he just saw there and - He can't help but to feel ashamed . For once he leaves without taking Kalim with him , he just forgot him a the moment

He now feels... angry . You never ever shared your gender but it's not like he ever expected you to be a girl . He feels lied to ; you didn't ever tell the truth but didn't lie either ; that bugs him even more because he doesn't know if he's mad at you or not

Well he now knows when someone you thought you know ends up being something totally different ; like the way Kalim saw who he really is...well that's really annoying to think of

Jamil ignores you for a few days until you come to ask why he's avoiding you . He insists that it's nothing all though it's obvious that it is-

Alright , a few days until he cools down . He wants to keep the distance till then

Knowing your gender often makes him feel ashamed of how casually he's been treating you . Well a lot of things are different when it's an all boy school , right ?

He doesn't know if he should act cooler with you from now or pretend that he never saw anything , he needs time to make up his mind

Kalim al Asim

He was giving you a towel to dry yourself when he recognized your clothes . He was actually thinking of bringing you some dry ones when he saw what he wished he didn't saw- Aaah why would you wear such a recognizable bra : " (y/n)..??"

He quickly pulls back and apologizes ; not that you know what he is apologizing for

He returns to Jamil and tells him to leave , he just can't face you right now

There at Scarabia , Kalim tells Jamil everything since he really needs to share some feelings . He asks Jamil if he knew about this and he certainly didn't

Kalim now keeps wondering... how hard might it be for you ? A girl sorrounded by all guys out there , do you feel safe ?

He now has decided to look after you more than he already did , he just doesn't want you feeling any sad or lonely because of your current situation

He always hated loneliness and that's why he needed Jamil around , now it's your turn to have Kalim around so you'll never be alone

Vil Schoenheit

Vil is well familiar with all beauty materials - including feminine underwear - so he quickly realizes both the unusual size of your chest and the vibrantly colored bra under your clothes . He wishes he hadn't

Bearing the fact that he was having a girl beside him all this time is already hard enough , but what makes it worse is what a terrible female he thinks you are now

You seriously do need a start over ! You are no girl if you're this ignorant toward your appearance even as it makes you look like a guy

He spends all night thinking of what he now should do with you . He does know how to manage guys but girls ? That won't be called something he had much experience on

He isn't feeling as comfortable as before with you yet , he decides to give you some lessons to at least pull you out of your non feminine self

He doesn't mind telling you that you have to do a lot more for yourself as you are a girl ; and he says it as if he knew it all this time

He isn't going to turn you into a princess , it's safer for you to remain something between male and female as you are stuck between all these untrustworthy guys , but it doesn't hold him back from giving you some chance to see your female self. He brings you wigs and puts on your makeup , telling you that you sometimes need to show up like this

He still needs some time to feel as comfortable as he used to with you , but spending time with you trying to have a start over is actually helping him to like you even more than he used to

Rook Hunt

Well congrats , for so long no one had ever succeeded to shock Rook like you did ! That's an improvement . He always makes sure not miss a single detail about those he has his eyes on ; yet he failed to even recognize your gender correctly until now

A bit of fascination won't hurt , right ? After all having a boy like Epel beside him makes it really confusing to specify male and female sometimes

To be honest , he now finds you pretty fragile and helpless : Bunny between the beasts

If a hunter like him didn't know it so far , then probably no one else knew it either . So that's his little secret now

This place's a considerably dangerous zone for a lady to step on , and Rook isn't planning on exposing you like this . He isn't a monster after all...

But having Rook of all people knowing your secret is already enough of torture , isn't it ?

Epel Felmier

I-I thought we were the same...???

This can't be true , this shouldn't be ! Please don't be , please , please , please

Epel looked up to you bot only as a reliable and strong friend but also as someone who goes through similar appearance problems as Epel himself did

You made him feel better that he wasn't the only one having problems with looking too similar to girls ; seems like he was wrong

Epel wasn't ever comfortable with getting close to girls , along becoming a friend of them . He even kept you closer than his other friends since the too of you could relate a lot he thought ; now what should he do ?

He is too embarrassed to even look into your eyes now , he even skips classes you two share and in summary , does anything to avoid you for a while

That is said that girls and boys can never be just friends and... that's frustrating

Now , could the two of you ever be as close as you used to be again?

Idia Shroud

Which is worse , realizing that he's been spending all his time with a girl over the past few months or seeing her wet breasts during the class ?Man , that looked just like those anime hentais one would find online...

Beside that , having your gender exposed makes him feel a bit unsafe about his relationship with you ; if even a simple thing such as gender could be different from what he was expecting you , then what greater differences would your reality have from the (y/n) you were into his eyes ?

Idia hardly ever gets to fully trust anyone and now he isn't sure if he could trust you anymore . Well yes gender might be no big deal compared to the fearful thoughts he is having at mind ; but it's enough to send him into his safe zone and stay away from you

His face turns red and hot whenever he thinks of that scene even when he's all alone in his bedroom , God he wasn't prepared-

Ortho finally forces him to tell what's bothering him and when he confesses , Ortho gets really excited . He keeps telling Idia that as a friend , he has to stay by your side specially because you may feel lonely being a girl all on your own . He reminds Idia of the fact that this is what friends do

He now feels sorry for abandoning you like a coward , but he has to admit that it's a bit hard for him to return the old friendship you two had . Well maybe just texting you instead of face to face interaction would be better ?

Malleus Draconia

uh..? A girl...? Child of man caught in an unknown world and... That's a female . You keep fascinating him over and over ever since he met you , it's just another surprise he can tell

He kinda loses all his focus during the pe class after he accidentally notices the unusual knobs popping under your T-shirt ; are you wearing something wrapped around your...chest ?

He first thinks that it may just be somewhat of a brand new clothing trend to wear feminine-like stuff ; but remembering how you never clearly stated your gender , he now understands how wrong he was

He thought that he had you under his watch pretty well , but he even failed to realize your gender correctly ; perhaps he should learn to do it better

Malleus isn't about to treat you any differently just because you ended up being a girl , all though he has to agree that it was a bit shocking . But in general , nothing about your relationship really seems to be gender related

You don't know his name and he didn't know your gender until now ; is this how karma works ? Well that'd be a bit unfair , gender was rather worthless compared to the fear his real identity might bring you

The only thing that may change now is him being more protective over you ; not that he underestimates you but rather because there's no way for you to be totally comfortable in a school filled with rebellious guys . He wants to make sure that his currently favorite human being won't get in much trouble because of that...

Lilia Vanrouge

Eh ? Through out his hundred-year life this would be the most shameful thing he got to face . You might think that he found it to be a disgrace to his long lasting life which is filled with honor and pride ; but in that case you may like to get to know the old man better

He doesn't like being thought of as a pervert ; but it doesn't mean that he didn't enjoy himself either. Naked figures or seductive girls aren't something he gets overly excited about , same goes for you . Well accidents like this can happen everyday , right ? But this one had something rather fun along with it :

From the direct yet neutral gaze he gave your chest , you immediately realized what he was looking at and you pulled back . Lilia didn't expect you to notice it so quickly , but the embarrassed face you gave him afterwards , that was priceless

He giggles softly at the thought , a shy and cute little girl . He isn't really a fan of boys that are overly cute or childish , but when it comes to little girls , that's another story

You had already caught his eyes by being the only human being caught in this school on your own . Well , to see how feeble and shy you sometimes could be , that reminded him of Silver

Now now , what should he do ? Playing the role of a small girl's parents or something ? Doesn't sound that bad

Sebek Zigvolt

Gasp

He's about to lose his mind - he feels like he has saw you totally naked or lurked into your privacy , he feels awful

He runs to another corner to cool down from what he saw - Damn- That scene doesn't get away from his eyes for a second

Well then , take deep breathes , it's cool , it's fine - it's gonna be fine

Sebek wouldn't dare talking to you for sometime after that . His cheeks get warmer whenever he sees you around , making him change his direction to avoid you

When you finally get him to talk to you , he breaks off- He starts apologizing . He swears not to ever peek on your body again and that he won't say a word from what he saw

You probably don't know what he is talking about , but you say okay to calm him down

Sebek isn't used to having girls around but now that he does , he should be really careful . He doesn't want you to think of him as a antisocial chick when it comes to women and he tries his best to be a gentleman in front of you . Man...he really does take it seriously

Silver

A... girl?... Silver's first reaction would be nothing different from blushing and turning back ; what else would you expect him to do ?

He's a simple guy , he doesn't overreact but doesn't feel totally comfortable either

He didn't ever even think of the possibility of you being a girl , he just isn't used to having anyone else than boys in NRC around . You did always look too cute for a guy but still , he didn't see this coming...

(y/n) is a girl...A girl , this thought gets looped inside his brain . He can't stop freaking out over it . It feels like he's been building a sand castle on water all this time and now he's watching it sink . His whole expectations of you seems to be ruined

It gets even worse when the figure of you dressed in a long beautiful dress , holding a brilliant crown of your flowers on your long silky hair haunts him on his dreams - Why on earth do you have to be so beautiful (y/n)..!?

Silver refuses to accept , but he's pretty soft when it comes to girls . He's pretty shy but to have a girl he has been liking for sometime close...his inner self is getting teased - in a pleasant way

He doesn't show up in front of you for a while , but he just can't get the thought of you out of his mind . From reality to dreams , seems like you're always in front of him . As if you really walked with him once upon a dream

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doveypink · 4 years ago

Text

come and find me [technoblade imagine]

summary: techno faces the consequences of your death. word count: 5.4k warnings: mentions of death, violence. a/n: this is a sequel to the one i left behind; read that first![ tag list: @shu5h @sylum @zefrenchturtle ]

Time is a tricky thing. It is insistent, always rushing forward without fail and unforgiving to those swept away in its tide. On occasion, though, time is a gentle monster; it takes you in its arms and kisses your head, lays you gently in the waves, and carries you to shore.

Time was not so kind to Technoblade.

Following the death of his friend, the archer, time became his enemy. Each day thereafter was a living hell full of tsunamis and stormy seas that bellowed within. The voices in his head used to sound like a low hum, the soft slap of waves in the back of his mind. Now, they were as loud as ever; if he didn’t catch himself in time, Techno would be overcome by the crashing waves and the tumultuous ocean inside his head.

“You have that look again,” Phil said softly from across the room. Techno’s eyes jumped to meet Phil’s, no longer burning holes into the wooden planks of the floor.

“You keep saying that like I know what it means,” Techno griped, instantly feeling sorry at the sight of Phil’s frown. The older man sighed and stepped towards his friend, taking a seat next to him.

“I know it’s difficult right now. That’s an understatement, clearly, but you saw what happened with Wilbur and I,” Phil explained, a cloudy look in his eyes. “It’s not easy to be asked to do something like that. All we can do is hope that it was for the best and carry on.”

The voices swarmed more powerfully in Techno’s head. He knew it was wrong to feel so angry at Phil for trying to comfort him, but it didn’t seem fair. Wilbur was Phil’s son, yes, but their bond was nothing like the one Techno had with his friend. The rage, the emptiness, the carelessness that Technoblade was experiencing reached heights that no person could begin to understand. The pain was his alone to carry.

Phil took note of Techno’s silence and gave his arm a gentle pat. “I’m here if you ever need anything,” he said. The man stood and padded out of the room to leave Techno on his own, his gaze turned back to the wooden planks.

Techno often wondered about you at times like this, when he found himself boiling in his own rage without someone to level him. Funnily enough, you weren’t much different from him in your anger; you would grit your teeth and quietly stare at some spot in the corner or keep your hands busy with anything you could find until you would tire yourself out. He wished he could see you now or hear your voice to remind him to calm down. He knew you were still around as a ghost, but your presence didn’t ease him as it once did. Nowadays, the thought of you only filled him with guilt, and his heart felt hollow without you around. It was hard to even look you in the eyes anymore.

“Techno?”

As if summoned by his own thoughts, you appeared in the window of the cabin. Your hands were cupped against the glass as you peered in comically, your eyes squinted as you struggled to see through the foggy glass. Techno glanced at you and sighed, rising from his chair to let you in; he tried ignoring you once, but it resulted in you attempting to climb through his window, so he always welcomed you in. Technoblade swung the door open and you jumped into view, cheerful as ever.

“Techno! I’ve been looking for you!”

“Looking for me?” the man wondered, crossing his arms. “I’m always here.”

“I know, I just got a little lost again,” you said sheepishly, wringing your hands. Techno stepped aside to let you in, foolishly wondering for a moment if he should let you borrow his cloak to keep warm. It would change nothing, of course; you were a ghost, the cold didn’t bother you. It was funny in some awful, convoluted way how often Techno forgot that you were dead. As a ghost, you would come and go at random, yet your presence hung over him like storm clouds. You were everywhere, bouncing around behind his eyes and throughout the cabin: all the books on the shelves you never read, the letters with your handwriting strewn across the desk, the scratches in the floorboards from when you dragged your chair. They were reminders of you, as if he could possibly forget.

“Don’t you have the compass Phil gave you?” Techno asked, referring to an enchanted compass which directed you to the cabin. Phil had given it to you during your last visit, much to Techno’s disapproval; he hated seeing you like this. It’s like you were a new person entirely, a stranger that wore your skin, but your soul had been exchanged for something else. He wasn’t sure who you were anymore, and every voice in his head argued that this was his own fault.

“I gave it to Ranboo,” you replied, fiddling with your sleeve. “He needs it more than I do, doesn’t he?”

“It was a gift for you,” Techno griped. “You can’t just give it away. Who knows what people could do if they had a direct line to us? Too many know where we are as it is.”

“I thought you wouldn’t mind. Ranboo basically lives here now.”

“Well, you were wrong.” Despite the warmth of the cabin, a chill seemed to run through the room as Techno stared coldly at his friend. He wasn’t sure why this angered him so much; realistically, he knew that what you had done was a smart idea. Ranboo lived just nearby Techno and Phil’s cabin, and with his memory issues, it wasn’t safe for him to wander aimlessly through the cold. Still, something about the way you could give such a tool away hurt him more than he cared to admit. He didn’t even want you around—he could hardly stand having to look at your ashen skin, and hearing your voice made his heart shake with grief—so why did he care?

You frowned, taking a small step forward to place a hand on your friend’s shoulder. Techno flinched at the contact, alarmed by the deadly cold that seeped through his cape. Up close, you could feel it: Techno was alive, yet the dark chill of death seemed to bound itself to him like a shadow. This was your influence; the bitterness that you rarely saw in him during your living days was an arrow, and you were its target.

“I know you don’t want me here. I can see it,” you said. Techno’s eyes widened slightly as you continued. “You look at me like—like I’m a stranger, but you’re searching for someone else. I know you can’t help it and neither can I, but I want to be that person so bad. I want to be what I’m supposed to be, but I don’t know how. I just miss feeling normal. I miss you.”

Techno swallowed thickly, averting his eyes. “I don’t think I can help you,” he admitted, taking a step towards the cabin door. He felt the cold air press against the wood and pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders. “Whatever reassurance you need, I can’t give that to you. And you can’t come here haunting the place until I do, either. I don’t need ghosts.”

“But you… You’ll still let me visit, won’t you?” You asked quietly.

The man seemed taken aback by your question. He seemed to consider it for a moment before responding, his voice not quite as frostbitten as moments earlier: “You can always visit.”

It was strange how suddenly Techno seemed like himself again. The winter froze him over, encasing all the warmth you could recall from when you were alive, but now the ice shuddered and cracked. The guilt that he had grown accustomed to merged with a longing he had been afraid to feel; he missed you, he missed every second that you weren’t around, and he hated himself for it. It was a selfish thought to want you here when he was the one who tore you away from the life you once clung to. It was selfish to want something good when all he seemed to do was snuff out any glimpse of light that came his way.

You smiled, albeit dolefully, and glanced around the room. You noticed a sheen of silver hanging on the wall and, propped against the wall, was a quiver of arrows—the same weapon you had found in the rubble of L’Manburg. The item you had once cherished no longer served a purpose to you, so you gifted them to Technoblade on your first visit postmortem. It surprised you that he accepted the gift in the first place, given that he seemed completely unnerved with your presence, so it was odd to see it displayed on the wall where all could see. It reminded you of an urn, a tangible indication of someone lost.

You weren’t sure how you felt by the sight of the item; were you meant to be flattered? Offended? The experiences that followed your death were far more puzzling than the ones you had in your life. When you were alive, you developed how to think and feel through socializing—your life was nurtured, guided along by those you met. In death, however, you were isolated. Techno already said it: he didn’t need ghosts, no one did. No living person wanted to face the dead because they were busy with the troubles of their lives, and rightfully so. Still, it was lonely to be dead. There was nothing that could teach you how to live in shadow, nobody to hold your hand and tell you that you would be alright. Death stole you right when you thought you would have survived to see the day, made a fool by hope, and your only friend was left to see the sun rise without you. This was it, this was the cruel joke nature played on the wanderers of the earth: to live and watch those you love die, or to die and watch those you love live.

Your gaze was pulled from the sharp curve of steel and you headed to the door. “I should leave you, now. I didn’t mean to…” Uncertainty crossed your features and you gestured your hands through the air to fill in the blank.

Techno seemed to understand, nodding as he reached to open the door for you. It was a quiet goodbye as you slipped into the snow, only turning back to wave at your friend as his cabin shrank in your view. The man stood in the doorway until you were a speck in the distance, a stir in his heart which rushed through him like a cold breeze. You would return.

* * * * *

“What do you know about necromancy, Phil?”

The older man looked up from his book. His eyes narrowed at his pink friend and held a look of disapproval. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”

Techno frowned, crossing his arms. “What? I barely said anything.”

“You don’t have to,” Phil sighed, snapping his book shut. “It’s not a good idea to bring them back, especially if they haven’t told you that they want to come back. You don’t know what it could do.”

“But you do. You can help.”

“I don’t want to help. And besides, the methods I’ve tried haven’t been successful, I know from the attempts with Wilbur. It didn’t change anything. You have to give this a rest, it's been weeks since you slept.”

“Well you’ve done more research, haven’t you?” Techno took a seat across from Phil and leaned in. “There’s gotta be something you didn’t try or somebody who knows enough.”

Phil hesitated and looked down at his hands. “I don’t want you to do this, but… You could speak with Dream.”

The younger man stiffened, trying to mask his displeasure. “What for?”

“I heard that he was doing research of his own. I don’t know what his method is or if it even works, but I don’t trust it. He wants to make himself a god, so it can’t be without its consequences.”

“Godship always comes with consequences. I’ll take my chances.”

“Are you really prepared for that?” Phil looked his friend in the eyes. “It’s too much of a risk to try—”

“I know that,” Techno snapped, rising from his chair. “And I know what I want. I want them back. I want Dream to be sorry that he ever hurt them. I want to—” Techno stopped himself from continuing his enraged rant. He wanted to feel whole again, he thought. He wanted to wake up and feel safe knowing you were in the next room over. He wanted to argue with you over nothing and know that you would forgive him nonetheless. He wanted to wake up early after a long day of travel and watch the sunrise with you, to see the whole world light up in your eyes. The emptiness he was stranded with was from your absence, he knew this now. You were the sun to his moon, but you were forever hidden under the horizon, casting him into the shade.

Phil’s frown deepened. He spoke softly, carefully. “I know you’re hurting, but you need to think this through. Is this really what you want?”

Techno refused to meet the older man’s gaze. You were gone because of him, and you would come back for him. He wasn’t going to let this go quietly. “Yes,” he said finally. The icy air whipped through the house as he opened the cabin door and slammed it shut, a mission in his mind.

* * * * *

The journey to the prison was an expectedly silent one. Few people were to be seen as Technoblade wandered through the country—whether out of fear for the man or some other reason, he couldn’t be sure. Regardless, he trudged down the paths he used to know, eventually coming upon the evil-looking building. The massive walls loomed over him, the shadows stretching across the grass in sharp lines. After taking a quick glance of the perimeter, Techno proceeded to the entrance of the prison.

Upon entering, he was faced with a portal and a switch off to his right. The man glanced around once before slapping the button, waiting for a guard to come by. There was a brief period of silence, then a disembodied voice: “Hello?”

“Hello,” Techno echoed, unsure of where to look. “How do I, uh, get in?”

“Just step through the portal and I’ll get to you in a second,” the guard replied. Techno followed his instructions and stepped in the portal, a feeling like water rippling against his skin. Techno emerged from the other side to see a desk and a podium in front of it with a large book sat upon it. Behind the counter of the desk was the prison guard, Sam.

“Hello, Technoblade. Step up to the podium, I’ll need you to read that book aloud to me and sign, then I have to ask you a few questions.”

The piglin stood directly in front of the podium, peering down at the book. He read out the protocols, frowning at the mention of being locked in the prison should the security be threatened. Techno signed his name on the book anyway, handing it to the guard.

“Thank you. Can I ask when you last visited the prison?”

“Never,” Techno replied. “Shouldn’t that be obvious?”

“It’s just an extra security measure,” Sam explained. “Some of our visitors may have a lapse in memory. Now, what’s your relationship with the prisoner?”

The other man considered the question for a moment until he settled on a suitable answer. “Ex-colleague.”

“Alright, and where is your place of residence?”

“Up north, in the arctic.”

“Good, good. Follow me to your locker, I’ll need you to place everything inside the chest. Once you’re done, press that button on the side to get the key.”

Techno followed the guard’s instructions, feeling slightly uneasy with the lack of protection in his inventory. He retrieved the key, feeling the weight of the metal in his palm, then deposited it into an ender chest. The guard was waiting patiently outside the locker room. “Follow me and do exactly as I say,” he ordered, leading Techno through the prison.

Sam guided Techno through a series of security checks and exercises to minimize his strength through potions. The piglin felt slightly lightheaded from the various trials and journeys through halls full of water and lava. Eventually, the pair of men reached the entrance of the maximum security cell, which looked empty save for the switches on the far wall.

“Stand on that platform right there,” Sam instructed, gesturing towards a number of tiles placed before a large screen of lava. Techno stepped onto the tiles, glancing over his shoulder to watch the guard fiddle with the controls. “The lava will stop in a minute or two. Just stay where you are and be careful when the platform moves,” Sam warned, keeping a firm gaze on the piglin.

Techno grunted a reply, waiting patiently until the barrier of lava parted like a curtain before a play. Between the bright orange drapery, he saw Dream come into view. The prisoner stood silently in the corner of his cell, his dull green eyes bearing a blank expression. There was a pink scar across the bridge of his nose, one Techno realized he received from you. His blond hair was long and unkept, a shadow of stubble on his chin—a blatant difference from the composed appearance he once possessed.

The platform shifted forward, rolling Techno straight towards the cell. A barricade stretched between the walls and the visitor crossed his arms in waiting. Finally, the space between the men opened, and the piglin took a step into the cell. Behind him, the wall of lava fell again, trapping the pair within the confines of the obsidian.

The prisoner inched forward from the corner. “I was beginning to think you’d never visit,” Dream said.

“I hadn’t planned on it,” the pig-man replied, glancing around at the mostly-bare walls of the cell. There was a clock on the wall set to the wrong time, a cauldron of water, and a desk with writing utensils in the corner. No other possessions decorated the cell.

“Hm. What made you change your mind?”

Techno’s eyes met the prisoner. “I need your help.”

Dream chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “The blood god needs my help? With what, may I ask?”

“I know what you can do,” Techno stated, drawing closer to the prisoner. “I know you can raise people from the dead.”

The blond man scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “So that’s what you want? You need me to bring back your friend?”

“Exactly. And you’ll do it.”

Dream hummed, considering the other man’s words before he finally responded. “No, I don’t think I will.” Dream leaned against the wall, looking bored. “You have nothing for me. And besides, I’m not sure you’re prepared to bring back the archer. It’d be pointless.”

“Don’t underestimate me,” Techno growled, annoyed with the prisoner’s lack of cooperation. “You know I’m a dedicated man.”

“And that’s exactly why you can’t bring them back. You don’t have the guts to do it.”

Techno rushed forward and grabbed Dream by the collar, teeth bared as he glared at the man. “Careful there, Dream. You don’t want to provoke your ticket out of here.”

Dream laughed unflinchingly in the god’s face. “Right, and what can you do? Kill me and lose your only chance to have them back? You’re not an idiot, and neither am I. We both know exactly how this would go down if you set me free.”

“I wouldn’t kill you, but I can easily make you regret living,” Techno spat, gritting his teeth. “You’re going to bring them back.”

“No,” Dream scoffed, seemingly unfazed by the other man’s threats. “You think you know exactly what you want, don’t you? I’m not sure you understand how traumatic it would be for them to come back, Techno. Don’t you get it? They’d wake up and feel disgusted by you. You killed them. You could have saved them, but you were too weak to even try. Besides,” he continued, lowering his voice, “I think they look much better rotting in the dirt.”

Techno shoves the prisoner against the wall, chest heaving with anger and guilt. The voices were like white noise in his mind, screeching for blood as his heart pounded. Dream slid to the floor and laughed maniacally; the sound made Techno’s head pound with the dull pain of an oncoming headache. There was no mask to hide the deranged look in the prisoner’s eyes as he held his stomach and howled with cruel pleasure. “They’re dead,” Dream gasped between laughter. “They’re dead and it’s all your fault!”

It was a mistake to have gone to the prison for answers, and Techno felt foolish for his actions as he called for Sam to let him out. Dream remained slumped against the wall, his shoulders shaking with an awful cackle that faded as Techno disappeared from the cell.

Technoblade could hardly recall the journey back to his cabin. Once he was out of the prison, he bounded through the war torn country, red hot fury searing in his veins. The voices wanted blood; they screeched and clamored inside the cage of his skull, raging into white noise that struck Techno like an arrow to the heart. Flashes of memories he had tried to suppress came rushing back—the crack of fireworks resounding in his ears. The smell of burnt flesh. Blood staining him from head to toe. He stumbled through the hills and snow, clamoring up the short set of stairs and through the cabin door. His head was pounding so awfully that the man became nauseous, collapsing to his knees as he dug his fingers into his scalp. It wasn’t until a hand came to rest on his shoulder that Techno finally managed to look up. His eyes burned and, with a start, he realized that he had been crying.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, mate. I’ve got you. You’re okay, take a deep breath,” Phil assured him, a firm grip stabilizing his piglin friend. Technoblade took in short, stuttering breaths, before Phil patted his shoulder and told him to take it easy. He made another attempt, inhaling slowly, then exhaling, repeating the motion until he was calm enough to speak.

“He won’t do it. He doesn’t want me to—He won’t.” Despite how hard he tried, Techno couldn’t stop the tremor in his voice. He hated this, he hated the vulnerability of it all. There was no space in his heart for the amount of pain he had been suppressing, and it was finally overflowing. He wished you were here. He wished so badly that he wasn’t such a fool.

Phil, conscious of his friend’s needs, pulled his hand away. “You know, someone was hoping to see you today.”

Techno looked up, watching Phil move aside to bring you into his line of sight. He hadn’t even noticed you were there in the midst of his agony, but the cold followed you as you drew closer. You were silent until you knelt down, reaching a hand out to your friend. “Come with me?” You asked gently, giving him a chance to refuse.

Techno looked down at your outstretched hand, examining the creases in your ashen skin. After a moment of consideration, he took it, hyper aware of your freezing touch. You led your friend out of the cabin, carefully guiding him to a destination you had yet to announce. Techno was curious as to what you were up to, but he didn’t have the energy to speak, especially not to you. There was so much he wanted to say, but the words were stuck in his throat. He wanted to apologize to you, to tell you how sorry he was for what he did to you, for the eternity you had been stranded with. There weren’t enough words in the world to admit how sorry he really was.

The pair of you traveled away from the cabin, through a forest of evergreens blanketed in snow; you walked past white foxes scurrying between bushes and birds fluttering overhead; you hopped over fallen trees and climbed a hill, finally stopping once you reached its peak. “We’re here,” you announced.

Techno stood at your side and admired the view: the sun was beginning to fall, clinging to the horizon. The entire land was bathed in golden hues, causing the snow to sparkle in the warm glow. With this light, your skin seemed to regain its warmth, a refreshing contrast to the ashen look of death which Techno had grown used to. He watched you gaze wordlessly at the sky before breaking the silence. “Why are we here?”

You admired the sight for a moment longer, then, gesturing for Techno to copy your motions, you took a seat in the snow. “Do you remember how we met?” you began.

Techno was surprised by your question, answering quietly. “Of course. I, uh, kidnapped you. Sorry for that,” he mumbled.

Letting out a soft laugh, you continued. “Right. But I’ve been remembering more, actually. It used to be fuzzy—it still is, sometimes, the details—but it’s easier to recall. I mainly remember the good things, but the gaps are starting to fill in.”

The man swallowed nervously. “So… Where are you going with this?”

Your eyes became downcast. “I’ve realized a lot of things. I can sort through my emotions now and it’s been weighing on me just how much you meant to me, how much you still mean to me—and I know you must feel the same way.

“I can remember so much of my life now. I remember feeling some bit of relief when you captured me because I didn’t have to be with Dream—I was free for the first time in my life, and I didn’t even know it. I remember the training, the battles, the betrayals, the exile, but more than anything, I remember you. It’s like a part of me was missing for so long before I met you, and I had grown used to it. I tried to fill it with other things, with other people, but that space was made for you. Once I had you, I was balanced—I had spent the first half of my life trying to find you, so I couldn’t stand to be away from you. I had to have you, always, filling the gap. It seemed wrong to live any other way.

“I can see now where the fault was in my logic. You told me the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice, right? A pair of lovers are separated when Eurydice dies, stranded to the Underworld. Orpheus travels to her and all he has to do to bring her back to the living realm is to walk the path to earth without looking behind him to see her. They reach the end, and at the last second, Orpheus looks back. His love is fated to death, and he must live on without her, singing a sorrowful tune to the earth. When I first heard that story, I couldn’t understand why he would do such a thing. I thought it was from a sense of doubt, or maybe he was just a fool, but now I know better. Orpheus wasn’t looking back because he was doubtful—he knew exactly what the consequences were. He looked back because he couldn’t accept her death once, but this time, he could do it. That’s the hidden truth that no one ever tells you: love is letting go.”

You turned your head to look Techno in the eyes. “Do you remember what I told you before I tried to kill Dream?”

The man nodded slowly. “You told me not to look back,” he breathed.

Nodding, you spoke again. “Exactly. Now, I need you to listen to me again,” you asked. “I need you to look back.”

Techno’s eyes became misty. “I don’t—I don’t think I know how,” he admitted.

“Neither did Orpheus,” you explained, taking the larger man’s hands in yours. “He lived the rest of his life mourning Eurydice through his music, but look at the world now. Don’t you see how beautiful it is? He sacrificed everything to see this. Orpheus did the hardest thing he could possibly do because it was the right thing.”

“What about the gaps?” Techno wondered. “How am I supposed to fill the gap without you?”

Looking down at the calloused hands in yours, you shook your head. “There’s always going to be pieces of you that can never be replaced—they’re not meant to be filled with something else. But there will be other things to love, other things to care about, and that’s how you move on. You pick up what’s left of your heart and put it back together as you go.”

The man looked at you, sorrow and adoration pooling in his eyes. “Will you stay? Will you be there when I carry myself back?” He asked, his voice small and trembling with apprehension.

Your cold hands were firm in his. “Always.”

In the west, the sun sank lower over the edge of the earth. The light grew fainter as orange, magenta, and hints of violet eased their way into the sky above. Clouds stretched on lazily, dragging against the atmosphere like heavy brush strokes on a canvas. Techno tugged on your hand when you got lost in the view. “We should head back before it gets too dark,” he said. You nodded and followed him through the snow, guided by the tracks you left from earlier. It would take him time, you were sure of that, and he would struggle as he always did when it came to his feelings. And you would be by his side, even then.

* * * * *

“I’m thinking of making it bigger, maybe add some glass panes to the top. What do you think?” Ranboo wondered, showing you the plans for his new house.

“Hm… No glass, just the stone here and there,” you replied, pointing at the drawings he laid out in front of you.

Ranboo was still living near Techno, sprucing up his old shed of a house into something more permanent. The tall boy stood proudly in front of his land, tugging at his coat. “Yeah, actually, that does sound nice.”

You knelt down behind Ranboo, scooping a handful of snow into your palm and carefully shaping it into a ball. “You know what else is nice?” You wondered innocently.

Ranboo responded absentmindedly with “Huh?”

With an evil grin, you shouted, “This!”

The snowball launched out of your hand as you threw it directly at the back of the half-enderman’s head. Ranboo jumped, shrieking in surprise as he wiped the back of his head. Spinning on his heel, he gave you a mischievous look before gathering snow in his own hands. “Oh, you’ve done it now,” he drawled, narrowly missing you as the snowball flew past your head. You took off into a run, laughing with your tall friend chasing behind you, snow flying left and right as you battled.

From his porch, Techno stood and watched the pair of you playing around, a faint smile on his face. He could see it now, more clearly than ever before: life, all around you, even in death. It was a strange irony, but an honest one. You were different than the person he once knew, but despite everything, your laugh never changed. Every version of you was real and true—you had simply taken a different shape.

The piglin turned to head back inside, but not before pausing as a spark of red caught his sight. There, standing alone at the corner of the stairs, was a bright red carnation. How it managed to grow in the cold, and so close to the cabin, was a mystery. Still, it was a rare beauty, strong in spite of the world it was born into. Techno looked from the flower back to you, an echo in his heart. You would be there—always.

The cabin door shut behind him, and there was no cold to follow.

#technoblade imagine #technoblade x reader #c: technoblade #dove writes #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #dream smp imagines #dream smp x reader #mcyt techno #mcytblr #techno imagine #techno x reader #c!techno x reader #c!techno imagine

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reidgraygubler · 4 years ago

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multiply (kyle orfman/reader)

Title: multiply Request: no Couple: Kyle Orfman/Fem!reader Category: angst/smut w/ a taste of fluff Content Warning: SEXUAL CONTENT (penetrive sex, unsafe sex, mild hatefuck, grinding/groping, heavy petting, light breathplay (hand over mouth and nose) breeding/impregnation kink, fingering), zombies and zombies eating humans, death, descriptions of death, death of a grandparent (grandmother), mentions of guns and gun violence (but none actually happening), petnames (kitten/officer) Word Count: 5,943 Summary: After narrowly escaping her grandmother eating her, Reader is on her own to find other civilization. She meets the Orfman family and they take her in for safety. Reader and Kyle share a special bond. A/N: I am in love with this piece, so I hope you guys love it as much as I do. thank you to @reidetic for beta/editing this for me! this was also written for @imagining-in-the-margins "there was only one bed" trope challenge for june! thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

My grandmother was alive… And then she was dead… And now she’s alive again. Which is very confusing because I watched her die. Like I can’t be the only person experiencing this, right? It’s not some weird fever dream either, I don’t think. This has to be a town wide phenomenon.

My grandmother was acting totally normal too. As if she didn’t die. She was living life day to day, making cookies, knitting, and sipping her tea, just like she did before she died. It was like life went back to normal. And then… She tried to eat me. That’s definitely not normal. Is it?

Who eats another person!? Zombies! That’s who! And how do you kill a zombie? I don’t really like that answer. Because I love my grandmother. She’d do nothing to hurt me, except eat me, I guess.

I gotta get out of this house. It’s not safe to stay in the house with her anymore, and it hasn’t been for a long time. So instead of killing her, like any other sane person would do, I just left. I packed my backpack with a few clothes, snacks and water, and I left.

Turns out it was a lot more than a town wide phenomenon. It was country wide. Everyone was experiencing their dead loved ones returning from the dead. Just showing up, like how my grandmother just showed up. It caused something of an uprise, too, considering people don’t just come back to life after being dead, and they’re eating other humans. It wasn’t an uprise. It was terror, pure terror of the people who didn’t die and come back to life.

I hadn’t left my house in a while, at least since my grandmother came back. So I didn’t realize just how dire the situation was. Piles of burnt stuff were all over the place. Cars with shattered windshields were crashed into trees or homes. And the number of bodies just on the street was… incredibly disturbing.

I needed to find any sign of civilization, and quickly. There was no telling just how long I’d make it alone. I probably only had enough water for the next day or two. And the only zombie movies I’ve seen were Shaun of the Dead and Zombieland, and that wasn’t very helpful… Well maybe Zombieland was helpful.

A long branch with a sharp and pointy end was sitting in the middle of the road. I grabbed it, hoping it’d be enough of a weapon to protect me from the disaster around me. I silently hoped, and prayed to whatever God was up there, that I’d find safety before nightfall.

I was beginning to lose hope as the sun started setting; the sky lighting up with the fires around the town. Several people wearing orange jumpsuits came running around the corner, each carrying various weapons in their hands and over their backs. I nearly fell to the ground because of how startled I was. I tried to pay attention to the crowd around me, but the pavement chewed up the palms of my hands.

A guy with a crew cut hairstyle seemingly looked in charge. Weird to have a gangly and scrawny man be in charge of a zombie take out group. He had this weird stature that he held, like he was trying to be intimidating but not everyone took him seriously.

The guy looked right at me and pointed a gun at my head. I slowly lifted my hands and stared at him.

“D-Don’t shoot! I’m human!” I shouted as I stared at him. He stared back, stepping closer to me. He dropped his gun away from me, but still kept his guard up.

“Human my ass!” The guy with the crewcut shouted. I looked at my hands, watching as blood began seeping from my palms. I quickly looked back at him, hoping he’d look at the human blood.

"Thoughts on smooth jazz?!" he asked in a loud tone. I stared up at him, feeling the terror bubble up my throat.

"I-I… Not my first choice in music?" I furrowed my eyebrows, as I wondered what this had to do with anything.

"Thoughts on dirt?!"

"Ew? Good for gardening? I don’t know!” I shouted back before I stumbled to my feet. The guy with the crew cut cautiously stepped closer to me as he examined my face and body. I’d assume it was because he was looking for any impurities I could possibly have. “I almost had to kill my grandmother. But… But I had to leave. I couldn’t do it. So I left. I left because she lunged at me… from across the table,” I mumbled as he stepped back. “I just need somewhere.. To lie low for the time being. I promise I’m safe.” I whispered as I looked at him. The guy looked back at the rest of his team, gauging their thoughts and concerns about letting me go with them.

“You can come with us. But the second you turn your back on us, or turn into them, don't be shocked when I’m the one to put a bullet into your head,” his voice got scary low as he stepped right up to me. I swallowed roughly and nodded.

“Understood,” I whispered as I looked up at him.

I was shoved into the middle of the crowd of orange jumpsuits. The guy with the crewcut took the lead and brought us to a house that was guarded by tall cement and steel fencing. The people who were currently occupying this home knew how to keep themselves safe.

We entered the fenced in yard of the house, the leader making sure everyone got in safely, and no undead beings followed us. Then we entered the house. I was half expecting it to be stripped down, or decayed. But when we got in… It looked like a normal home, just no power, and the windows boarded up.

“Oh! A new person!” A woman exclaimed once I stood in the area that was once a living room. She came right up to my side, looking at me with a bright smile. She was very happy that I was here. “Don’t worry! You’re safe now!” she cooed as she threw her arms around me. I froze, my body refusing to move as she embraced me.

“I-I…” I swallowed roughly as she pulled away from me. I barely had time to say anything else as she pulled us to sit on the couch.

“I’m Judy Orfman. Kyle is my son.” She smiled as she gestured towards the crew cut guy wearing the orange jumpsuit.

“Mom,” Kyle muttered as he pinched the bridge of his nose. I snickered as I looked back at Judy. I smiled softly as I gave her my name. It was weird how homey this place felt, albeit our situation in the world. Part of me wondered if Judy had any part in that.

“My husband, Noah, is out right now. And my other son, Zach, is with one of the women. She also had to kill her grandmother,” Judy whispered that last part. I looked at her with wide eyes, feeling a certain nervousness settle in the pit of my stomach. I could tell she meant well, and I shouldn’t be scared around anyone here. Everything that’s happened is just unsettling. When I woke up this morning I wasn’t expecting to have to escape zombies.

“Is it okay i-if I lie down? I’m just very tired after everything that’s happened.” I I looked between Judy and Kyle.

“Oh! Kyle, honey, you should let her sleep in your room. She obviously needs it,” Judy spoke to her son as she carefully smoothed out my hair. I looked at her with a small smile. I loved how motherly she was. It was definitely something I needed in a time like this.

“I’m not going to do that, Mom.”

“We don’t have any more bed space. You’re the only person with a bed big enough to hold two people. We aren’t going to force her to sleep on the floor or on the couch.”

“I-I don’t have an issue with the flo-”

“Non-sense! Kyle has plenty of space!” Judy clapped her hands together as she glared at Kyle. Kyle looked back at her with wide eyes before dropping his head and mumbling something. Even though Kyle was in charge of the orange jumpsuits, Judy was the head of household. Anyone could argue with her, but she would end up getting her way no matter what. Kyle probably knew better than to fight his mother.

“So it’s agreed then! You guys will share the room!” Judy smiled brightly. “Just no funny business.” She then glared between me and Kyle. I looked at her with wide eyes before shaking my head.

“Ugh! Ew! With him!”

“Her?! Are you serious?”

Even though I basically said what he said, I was still hurt by his utter disgust behind his words. I tried not letting it bother me as I grabbed my backpack and stood up.

“Why don’t you show her around? The bathroom, kitchen, bedroom.” Judy stood up beside me as she looked at her son. Kyle begrudgingly moved towards the opening of the living room, leading off to a new area.

“C’mon,” he grumbled as he looked over at me. I looked at Judy before looking back at Kyle. I dropped my head before dashing up beside him.

Every room he showed, I was met with a new person distraught by the events of the day. Kyle just showed me the room. I didn’t really know what I was expecting when he showed me around the house.

“Finally, this is where I sleep,” Kyle muttered as he gestured towards the closed off bedroom. A small smile grew on my lips as I entered the room, heading right towards the bed. Kyle, however, stopped me by grabbing my backpack and pulling me back to the door. “And just what do you think you’re doing?”

“Judy said I could sleep in here, too. So I figured I should take my side of the bed.” I looked up at him, folding my arms over my chest. A smirk grew across Kyle’s lips before he nodded. At this point we were standing toe-to-toe, and our chests were practically pressed together.

“You’re adorable,” he muttered before pulling my backpack off my back and tossing it to the left side of the bed. “If I find out you’re cuddling with me, you’re outta here. And if I see you going through my shit… You’re dead.”

“Sir, yes, sir.” I whispered before looking away from him. I walked away from him and towards the bed. Even though I wasn’t facing him, I could feel Kyle’s eyes on me as I went through my bag. “Are you just going to stand there and watch me? Or are you going to let me sleep peacefully?” I asked as I dropped my shoulders and the things I was holding.

“Until I know you won’t fuck around with stuff you’re not supposed to…” He spoke out loud. I rolled my eyes before turning to face him.

“Do you want me to just mess with your stuff while you’re here?” I asked as I walked back around to his side of the bed. Kyle’s eyes widened and his jaw steeled as I went to his night stand. “Or will you leave me alone so I can get some rest?”

“I’ll leave you alone the second you back away from that nightstand.” His words were quick and sharp as he spoke. A small smirk grew across my lips as I looked back at him. I stepped away from the night stand and stood in the middle of the room. “I’ll come back in an hour,” he muttered before leaving the room.

With a deep sigh, I returned to my side of the room, finally getting ready to lie down for the first time in what feels like days.

{***}{***}{***}

I don’t think time exists anymore. Ever since the world went to shit, it feels like days felt longer than 24 hours. So it was hard to say how long I’d been in this safe house. I wished time was still relevant...

I try not to let things bother me. But I feel like it’s especially hard in this house with all of these people I hardly know. It was even harder because I was still sharing a room with Kyle. And he is probably the worst person I’ve ever met. He talks in his sleep. But he wouldn’t own up to that. Noooo, he’s too good for that.

The first night I realized he was talking in his sleep wasn’t too bad, mostly because it was him talking about stuff that happened before before a stupid zombie apocolyspe. But now it’s just annoying shit. I never get a moment alone anymore.

For a moment of privacy, I sat in the closet. It was just for a moment before the doors swung open and a woman my age sat down beside me.

“Zach wants to go to a stupid graveyard today,” Erica muttered as she sat down. I looked over at her with a raised eyebrow. “He wants to visit Beth’s stupid grave.”

“Beth’s his ex-girlfriend, right?” I asked, still unsure of who people were here. She nodded as she began picking at the loose threads on her pants. “You shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, Erica.”

“Okay, but when the dead start trying to kill me, then I’m going to talk ill of the dead.”

“That’s fair, I suppose,” I muttered as I looked at the floor in front of us. “It’s still not really safe to do that… Little weird.” I glanced back at Erica with a raised brow. She looked back at me and grimaced. I had nothing else to say, granted conversations between us didn’t last too long. We had nothing in common other than our grandmothers tried eating us, therefore we had to kill them. So what was the use of us talking? I knew a friendship would never grow between us.

With a resigned sigh, I stood up, leaving Erica in the closet alone. I ignored her bothersome questions as I walked away from her. I didn’t want to be around her, or really anyone. So I went to the safest place I could think of, hoping no one else would be there, my shared bedroom with Kyle.

Of course, it’d just be my luck that Kyle would also be there. He was sitting at his desk, wearing nothing by his boxers while he cleaned his gun. I just didn’t realize that till I had fully entered the room.

“What the fuck!? What are you doing?! Don’t you knock!?” he shouted as I entered the room more. I turned and looked at him, my eyes wide as I stared at him. “S-Stop staring! Are you crazy!?”

“Me crazy!? You’re the one cleaning your gun half naked!” I shouted as I gestured at his attire. I quickly threw a hand over my eyes as I blindly searched for the bed.

“It's how I relax!” He shouted back. Once my body finally touched the bed, I laid back, quickly throwing a pillow over my face. “Can you leave?”

“How come you get to relax but I don’t? Roommates remember?” I sat up and glared at him. He glared back at me, keeping his hands on his gun.

“It’s so funny to me that you were going to be a police officer?” I scoffed as I laid back. That seemed to strike a chord in him, causing him to stand and look at him.

“What? I didn’t tell-”

“You talk in your sleep,

“No I don’t, Kitten,” Kyle retorted. I stared at him for a moment, trying to comprehend what he just called me. Kitten? Really? Seriously? “If anyone talks in their sleep, it’s you.” He pointed at me. I smirked and shrugged.

“If you say so… Officer.” I grinned before reaching up to shut the lamp off. Kyle stayed sitting in the darkness. I could only imagine his face was beet red, and his knuckles were white as a ghost as he held his gun.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” Kyle’s voice came through the mild darkness. I shrugged, even though he couldn’t see me.

“Taking a nap, Officer, because it’s how I relax.”

{***}{***}{***}

It had to have been the middle of the night. I couldn’t be too sure. I just knew it was late at night, and Kyle’s whole entire body was clinging to mine as he talked.

“Someone’s gotta repopulate the world… Why… Why don’t you do it with me?” Kyle mumbled into my chest. I stiffened as his hands drifted all over my body. “You’re like the only feasible person to do it with.”

“Okay, first off, rude,” I muttered as I shoved his body off mine. It was impossible to keep him off me though, because the moment his body was away from mine, he knew, and instantly wrapped his arms back around me ten times harder than before. “Secondly, haven’t you heard of personal space,” I groaned as I laid perfectly still on my back. I finally just gave in and let him keep his arms around me. No use in fighting that.

“C’mon, Kitten,” he mused as he nuzzled his head into my chest more. I widened my eyes and looked down at him. “We’d make some pretty cute kids.”

I hate this so fucking much. And there was no way I was getting out of this. I just wish this was when I knew the weird sex dreams started...

{***}{***}{***}

I laid perfectly still on the bed. The lights were off, and Kyle was perfectly asleep. I was envious of his sleep. The last time I had a peaceful night of rest was ages ago. The nightmares I had were awful, keeping me awake till dawn. But also, Kyle also talked in his sleep and always clung to me like his life depended on it.

I’d be lying if I said Kyle and I hadn’t gotten close. Even though part of me still hated him, the other part of me knew that he was probably the last person I had to be friends with, other than his mother and Erica.

With a deep groan, I shoved Kyle awake, nearly pushing him to the floor.

“What the hell was that for!?” he shouted from his spot on the ground beside the bed.

“You know when you talk in your sleep…” I spoke aloud. I kept my eyes on him as he glared at me.

“No I don’t,”

“You sure about that, Officer. How else would I know you wanted to be a cop?” I scoffed as I stood up off the bed. Kyle watched as I walked around the bed and stood at the foot of it.

“You… You read through my personal belongings.” He shot back as he stood to his feet.

“Y-You have a diary,” I stifled my laughter as I looked at him. Kyle glared at me again. “No, I only know that because you talk in your sleep. And at first it didn’t bother me too much because it was cute shit like being a police officer, or having a family and kids, and cute shit… But now… For the last week, Kyle, you have been having sex dreams. And I wake up to you clinging to me…” I lifted an accusing finger as I spoke. Kyle looked at me, waiting for me to continue my rant. Which was rather surprising because he hardly lets people finish their thoughts or rants before he interprets them. “Do you know how weird that is?! Having sex dreams about someone who’s just sleeping next to you?” I stared at him for a moment, trying to understand if he was going to say anything. “Whatever, I’m going to help Judy.” I scoffed before turning to leave the room.

“With what? It’s midnight!” He gestured to the dark window. Yeah, that was true. Judy was probably asleep. I just needed to get out of the room and let my frustrations be out instead of held in.

“With something!” I shouted at him.

“Kitten, wait,” Kyle started before grabbing my wrist and pulling me to face him. I spun around on my toes and looked right at him. I couldn’t help but feel annoyance grow on my face as I stared.

“Why do you call me that!?” I shouted at him. Kyle stayed silent as he stared up at me. I could see a certain confusion grow on his face as he tried to connect the dots to my question. “Kitten! Why do you call me that?! You’ve called me that since I got here.”

“Well… I…” Kyle paused for a moment. I watched as his mouth opened and closed a few times, and his jaw clenching momentarily. I stared at him, as he sat in thought for a very long time.

“Whatever,” I scoffed as I turned to leave again.

“Because you’re attractive…” He finally spoke after an eternity of silence. He looked up at me with a stilled face. “Because I’d fuck you,” he stated truthfully. I blinked, taking a step back before I stared at him.

“That’s a bit of a raunchy way to say you want to sleep with me.” I folded my arms over my chest. Kyle smirked before shrugging. “I’ve been sleeping with you for the last month.”

“You-You know what I meant,” he muttered as he approached me again. I stopped right in front of me, our toes just barely touching. “Well, do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Want to have sex with me?”

“You… You want to have sex… During the end of the world. Bit cliche don’t you think?” I was still taken aback that he just asked that. I’m still stuck in the argument we had less than 10 minutes ago. And now he wants to have sex with me?

“Well I wouldn’t say that it’s the end of the world. But that’s essentially what I’m saying… Yeah, I wanna have sex with you, during the end of the world.” Kyle shrugged as he looked at me.

“If you say so… Officer,” I whispered with a shrug. Kyle looked at me, his jaw stealing at my words. “Someone’s gotta repopulate the world.” I smirked at him. I could tell my words did something to him. It was obvious that he did indeed want someone to repopulate with. And I was the winner of that contest. Not that I’m complaining.

“Don’t… Don’t call me that,” he warned as he cornered me between his body and the bed. I took a deep breath as I looked at him, feeling my heart rate pick up in my chest. He still made it possible for me to escape if I wanted to. But, at this point, who says I wanted to escape?

“Why? D-Does it do something to you, Officer?” I whispered as I lifted my hands to his shirt. A small smirk grew across his lips as I smoothed out the wrinkleiness of the fabric against his torso. I could feel the semi toneness of his chest through the light fabric.

“You tell me yourself, Kitten,” he muttered before pressing his hips into mine. My breath was instantly knocked from my lungs as his bulge pressed into my legs. “Tell me now… If you want to stop…” he half growled into my mouth. I quickly shook my head as he pressed his groin into me more.

“P-Please,” I whispered before I pulled my lips between my teeth.

“Please what, Kitten?”

“Don’t stop,” I whimpered into his mouth. He looked down at me, a pleased smirk growing on his lips before he quickly pressed his mouth along my face and then down my jaw. It was impossible to stay down on earth the moment he began leaving little bites across my neck. A soft whimper fell from my lips as he pushed me back down on the bed.

“We gotta be quiet… My parents are in the next room over. Don’t want them hearing us,” he whispered into my ear as he quickly threw a hand over my mouth. I took a deep breath before he pressed his thumb over my nose. “You think you can do that for me, Kitten?” He kept his voice low, almost a growl as he spoke. With his other hand, he carefully pushed past my pajamas and cupped my pussy.

I wanted to nod, but I knew the nod would mean nothing the second I whimpered again. Kyle smirked as he slowly moved his fingers over my clothed sex. I don’t think I’d be able to be quiet...

It just got harder to stay quiet the second he started stroking my clit over my panties. He knew exactly what he was doing. Driving me nuts, that’s what. He could’ve gone slower, and I would’ve hated him for it… Or loved him. At this point they were both interchangeable.

I bit down so hard on my lips I was sure they’d bleed as he moved my underwear to the side. My lungs slowly grew a blaze, feeling a certain tightness in my chest as he slowly moved a finger between my folds, slowly pressing it into my entrance. A dark smirk grew across his lips as he withdrew his hand.

“I didn’t know a kitten could get so wet,” Kyle mused as looked at his glistening fingers. He quickly glanced at me, his smirk growing daker by the second. Then he carefully stuck his fingers between his lips, sucking on them for a brief moment. A soft whimper came from me, causing him to laugh. “She tastes good, too,” he hummed.

Kyle carefully dragged his hand down my side, tracing over my waist and hips, before diving back into my pants and underwear. He knew exactly what he was doing, on purposely making me make noises. Because the second he started stroking over my clit, I couldn’t stop any sound that came from my mouth, even with his hand over it.

“This is already better than any dream I had, Kitten,” he murmured in my ear. I swallowed roughly and nodded. He smirked as he gently pushed a finger into me, quickly followed by a second. “If you’re quiet I’ll move my hand.”

I hummed as I closed my eyes, my head lolling to the side. Kyle dragged his hand from my mouth, sliding it down to my chest. My lips stayed between my teeth, forcing myself to be quiet as he started massaging my breasts.

“D-Don’t stop, whatever you do… Please k-keep going,” I struggled to say as his movements hastened. His thumb carefully brushed against my clit, causing me to push my head back into the bed beneath me.

“You like this, don’t you?” Kyle laughed lightly. I could feel my chest lifting away from the bed the heavier my breath grew. “How long has it been since you’ve been touched like this? Since you’ve been used?”

“Kyle, Kyle, please,” I bit down on my lower lip. I brought one of my hands to rest over my mouth, while the other held his arm.

“I’d call you a desperate, but I’m the one having sex dreams of you.”

The funny thing is… I was desperate. Even though he was the one having the sex dreams, I was the one having the thoughts when I was awake. And a lot of the thoughts were hoping this would happen. Guess we’re bothing having dreams coming true.

It was only a matter of moments before I was finishing over his hand. My eyes stayed closed as I tried catching up with time. And in the few moments I had, Kyle had climbed off the bed and quickly undressed, leaving me still in my pajamas. I didn’t feel rushed, but I hated that I was still wearing clothes.

Once I had my moment of recollection, I sat up, peeling my shirt off and kicking my pants to the floor. I was too busy undressing to even notice that Kyle was staring at me, watching my quickness and excitement. But when I finally did sit back and look at him, he was watching me with a smirk on his lips.

I tried not to let my eyes linger on his body for too long. When I noticed his hard length, I couldn’t help but stare. Then he laughed, forcing me to look up at his face and swallow roughly.

“No, please, keep staring,” he muttered with a smirk. I slowly blinked before shaking my head, silently lifting my hand to him. I could feel my sudden neediness radiating off my body, surely Kyle could sense it from where he was standing.

When he didn’t move, I slowly moved my legs apart, making it so there was space for him to kneel comfortably. He smirked again before crawling onto the bed, coming right up to my face.

“Tell me, Kitten, how badly do you want this,” he whispered against my lips. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before nodding. “Use your words. I trust you know how. You were pretty vocal a few moments ago.”

“I don’t think you understand, Officer, how bad I need you,” I murmured as I looked up at him. The corner of his lips twitched at the nickname I had so lovingly given him. “Only you can help me.”

“Damn right I am,” he muttered before roughly pressing his lips to mine. I threw my arms around his neck as he moved so his length was pressing against me. My breathing stuttered slightly before I began gasping for air as he very slowly entered me.

Once he was fully sheathed in me, Kyle knelt straight up. I stared at him, watching as he hooked his arms under my knees. With that, he managed to press deeper into me, inciting a moan from me.

“More,” I tried to whisper as I looked up at him. His eyes locked with mine for a moment before rolling his hips into mine. He fell into a steady rhythm, hitting the right spots at just the right times.

Any conversation between us ceased to exist, leaving us with struggling moans and gasps for breath. My hands ran over my body, trying to relieve myself of something.

Kyle dropped one of my legs, bringing his hand to between my legs. My head fell back before rolling to rest against my shoulder, feeling the eventual relief in my abdomen.

“You feel so good, Kitten,” Kyle mumbled before dropping my other leg and coming back down to my face. I huffed out a breath of air before lifting a hand to his head. “Better than anything I could ever imagine,” he added before pressing his lips to mine. I hummed, pushing my fingers through his hair.

“I’m gon-gonna cum,” I whined before biting my teeth into his shoulder. Kyle ran his hands up my back before pulling me close.

“Yeah?” he groaned into my ear. I nodded as my breathing grew ragged. “Me too,” he added as his movements grew faulty. He pressed his forehead to mine, his heavy breath fanning across my skin. My eyes stayed glued to his.

“Do it, please do it,” I whimpered. Kyle’s eyes grew darker the moment the heaviness of my words hit him. I don’t think I was supposed to notice his brief pause, but I did. “I’m serious.”

“You know what-”

“God, Kyle, I know. I know what it’ll mean,” I cut him off, lifting my back up into his body. He looked at me for a brief moment before capturing my lips in a gentle kiss. I threw my arms around his neck, holding him close to me.

“If that’s what you want,” he moaned, his movements turning sloppy. I knew I wasn’t about to last long. “Someone’s gotta have my kid.”

“Let it be me then,” I cried out. My legs wrapped around his waist, keeping him in place. “Please.” My whole body tensed around his as my head fell back as I tried to keep quiet. Kyle looked down at me before putting his hand over my mouth. Then a warmth- that I didn’t realize that I missed- grew in my stomach.

Kyle fell, laying against my body. With that, we fell into silence. The only sound was our heavy breathing and the sounds of crickets outside. The silence was nice though.

“My mother better not find out about this,” Kyle said after an eternity. I laughed and shook my head.

“Then you better hope I don’t end up pregnant, because she’ll find out eventually,” I sighed deeply as I brought my hands to hold the back of his head. His body stiffened before he lifted his head to look down at me.

“I’ll tell her in the morning.”

“Well you don’t have to do that,” I laughed. He stared at me for a moment. “You tell her she’ll probably break us apart. And, well, like I said earlier… Someone’s gotta repopulate the world.”

“No, yeah, you’re right. She’d probably kill me if she found out we’re having sex,” he stated before trying to move away from me. “Actually I think she’d kill me then pray I come back to life for that kid.”

“I’m not living through someone trying to eat me twice.”

“I can change that,” he teased with a smile. I stared at him once I realized what he meant.

“Tomorrow night please. I’m so tired.”

“If you say so,” Kyle laughed before slipping out of the bed.

Some months after the apocalypse ended

“You look mighty dashing in that uniform, Officer.” I looked at Kyle as I smoothed out the few wrinkles in his shirt. I tried my hardest to hold the young boy in my arms the moment he became fussy.

“Don’t start that now. I can’t be late,” Kyle warned as he looked back at me. I smiled and shrugged.

I looked up at Kyle with a soft smile on my lips. Although our son was young, he tried to blindly reach out for his father, but failed as he was just out of the child’s reach. “Be safe out there,” I whispered before pressing my lips to his.

“Of course I will.”

“Good, because your little man will be pissed if he finds out you’re not coming home.” I smiled before kissing him again. “But I think I’ll be even more pissed than your kid.”

“Please. I’ll come home in one piece, with no bites.”

“You better, Officer.” I smirked again.

“Well since you asked so nicely,” Kyle scoffed before rolling his eyes. I smiled and nodded.

“Good luck out there. Judy’s making dinner so be home in a timely manner.”

“Okay, for real, I gotta go. See you later, Little Man.” Kyle smiled as he rubbed the top of his son’s head. I smiled before puckering my lips. “And I’ll be home before you know it.” He quickly pecked my lips. “Love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, love you too. See ya later.” I swung our son over to my other hip, resting him gently on my hip. I turned around and slowly walked back up to our home.

“It’s not too soon for another one, is it?!” He shouted from the end of the driveway. I turned and looked at him as I made it to the front door.

“If anything, we can practice!”

if you want to be a part of a taglist (lmk if ur 18+ for smut) or have any comments about this one-shot, let me know here

taglist: @thebluetint @muffin-cup @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @spencersmagic @spenciegoob @flipperpenguins @broken-stardust

#shadow writes stuff #masterlist #kyle orfman #kyle orfman fanfiction #kyle orfman imagine #kyle orfman x reader #kyle orfman x you #kyle orfman fan fic #life after beth fan fic #matthew gray gubler fanfiction

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moonbeamsung · 4 years ago

Text

Winter Nights & City Lights

Because nothing says ‘Christmas’ like spending the big day (and not to mention the whole holiday season) in the Big Apple living with your high school friend-turned-roommate, Mark Lee.

member: mark (featuring johnny)

au: roommate!mark x gn!reader, college roommate au, christmas au, ‘the gift of the magi’ au/inspired

word count: 9.5k

genre: fluff, angst, slice of life

warnings: profanity, underage drinking, hangovers, insecurities, mentions of food and drink, money issues, embarrassing moments

author’s note: This fic is close to becoming my favorite that I’ve ever written. It’s also almost twice as long as I planned, not to mention that tumblr crashed right as I tried to post it so here I am, two hours later. Overall I had a blast writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it! Please let me know what you think, too! :,) Happy holidays! <3

taglist: @astroboy-lele @kisshim @radiorenjun

network tags: @kpopscape @neo-constellations @starryktown @culture-cafe @dreamlab-nct

“That parade was so cool! I mean, did you see the size of all those balloons? They were huge! I’ve never seen so many people all in one place before,” Mark chatters away like an excited child as you navigate through the crowd that always seems to grow bigger year after year, gathered along the curbs of the New York streets to watch the famed Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

“How are you not more excited about this?” He questions, and you stifle an amused giggle. “I’ve lived in the city for over a year, Mark. I’ve seen a thing or two.”

“Oh, right. I knew that.” The cold air only accentuates the blush on his face as he remembers that particular detail about you. It isn’t often that it’s demonstrated, however, considering you spend so much time cooped up inside of your shared apartment cramming in university work and studying. There are hardly any opportunities during the year to take in the sights of the concrete jungle you live in the very heart of, but luckily, one of your long-awaited breaks is coming up soon.

Thoughts of Christmas vacation are the only things keeping you going, along with countless cups of steaming hot coffee, as you prepare for exams in just a few weeks, weeks that seem to go by in a flurry of snow.

There’s less than three days left until your first one, but you’re nothing short of drained after pulling so many all-nighters, and you need a break. A breath of fresh air seems like just the cure for your burnout, so you slam your textbook shut and lethargically drag yourself off of the soft comforter you’ve been sitting on for the past two hours. You grimace at the deep imprint left behind.

Trudging through the living area, you knock softly on Mark’s bedroom door. A tired “Come in” sounds from the other side, and you push it open, immediately noticing his disheveled state. Eyes heavy with fatigue and lacking their usual sparkle of youthful innocence, he blinks back at you, “What’s up?”

“You look like you need a break just as much as I do,” you insist. His already-open mouth widens a bit more, “But... our first exam is on Monday, we can’t just—”

“Mark, come on, you’re one of the smartest people in our class. If anyone’s going to pass, it’s you.”

He huffs, “Maybe you have a point.”

“I do have a point, and you know it. A little walk in the park never hurt anyone, right?”

Mark rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, fingers raking through his dark locks before he musters up enough strength to push himself off of his bed and into a standing position.

“I’ll get my jacket.”

Central Park is a sight to behold on its own all year round, but something about the Christmas season makes it even more magical. You and Mark step at the same pace, your paths lined by metal benches blanketed in fresh snow. Even through the many layers of warmth you’re both wearing, the chilly air still nips at your skin. It’s Mark’s first time experiencing the holidays in New York City, and you’re determined to show him everything this real-life winter wonderland has to offer.

The story of how you two came to be roommates in the first place is an extremely lucky one. You met in high school, and had been part of the same group of friends along with six younger boys. Both Canadian, you’d been hoping to get into the same New York college since what felt like forever. The day that you received your acceptance letters in the mail was full of joy and celebration, but not even a week later, Mark got an unexpected scholarship to a local but prestigious university not far from where you lived that he simply couldn’t pass up.

Parting ways after graduation, you had thought you might never see each other again until you got a call from him. It was the day after your last exam of the spring semester in college and you were sitting on your two-person couch, feeling rather lonely. The number seemed too familiar, too good to be true, and scrambling to pick up the phone as it blared throughout your fairly small apartment, you answered with a shaky voice. Mark’s recognizable tone met your ears, and a wide smile met your face. Though he couldn’t see it, he could hear the happiness in your words.

As it turned out, his college had given him the opportunity to transfer to yours for the remainder of his four years, as their programs were closely linked and on similar levels. Graciously, he had accepted, and wanted you to be the first to know.

“So, uh... are you living with anyone?”

The question he dreaded asking more than anything else. Call him cliché, but he had the biggest crush on you in high school, much to his dismay and to the rest of his friends’ excitement. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to like you, but he feared that college could tear a potential relationship apart, regardless of whether or not you went to the same one.

As a result of this, he had never acted on his emotions. But he’s older now, and wiser, which leads him to believe that maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to maintain one, should he ever gain enough courage to ask you out.

“No, actually, I have my own apartment.”

Silence.

“...Are you looking for somewhere to stay?”

“Yes! Yes,” he replied a little too quickly, eager to accept what would hopefully be an invitation from you. He wasn’t disappointed.

“Well, my place isn’t the biggest, but you can live with me if you want to. Plus, we could split the rent between us!”

You’ve always liked Mark. He’s hardworking, kind, and humble, maybe a little too much of all these things for his own good. Even back in high school, you spent endless nights and very early mornings on the phone with him, trying to convince him to go to bed after he refused to stop studying. To reassure him that he did the right thing by ending that friendship, or to insist that he tell the teacher no one worked on the group project, so he did everything himself. You’ve been his shoulder to cry on for years, you’ve seen a side of him that he’s never been brave enough to show anyone else because they expect so much of him.

Mark knows he’s blessed to have had a picture-perfect childhood, a good family, and an education that was rigorous yet rewarding enough to prepare him for his next chapter in life. The pressures that came with being so lucky just got to him sometimes, and they made four years of high school seem more like fourteen.

You, on the other hand, didn’t quite have all the same luxuries that he did, but you still managed. He’s been there for you plenty of times, too. In your opinion, though, he’s the much more vulnerable one of the two of you, mainly to his cumbersome insecurities and shortcomings, however rare those shortcomings may be.

So in your mind, Mark Lee deserves the entire world and then some. The least you can do is share your apartment with him, either until he finds what you’re sure would be a much more desirable place to live, or if he wants to stay with you indefinitely.

What you don’t realize, and will eventually struggle to admit to yourself, is that your admiration for his perseverance and endless generosity is teetering rather precariously on the edge of blossoming into something more than just platonic.

“Sounds good, then. Thanks so much!” He had exclaimed, the sound of his pure excitement and gratefulness bringing a wave of heat to your face, and you were glad he wasn’t there in front of you to see it.

You talked a little bit more for the next few minutes, catching up and enjoying a lighthearted conversation about what you had both been up to. These sessions on the phone began to occur more and more frequently, turning into weekly, and soon daily, affairs. Mark planned to move in a couple weeks before school started again, giving himself some time to settle in and adapt to urban life in general. The calls became a highlight of your summer vacation, and every day without fail, you found yourself waiting to hear the unique ringtone you had set his contact to.

Less than twelve hours before Mark was scheduled to arrive at New York’s largest airport, you were on the phone with him just like always. The clock in your apartment chimed eleven o’clock, and as reluctant as you were to hang up, you knew you should turn in for the night. After all, the sooner you went to sleep, the sooner the morning would come. The morning you would meet him at the airport.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” His voice was hopeful. Slightly unsteady, but hopeful all the same.

“I guess so. What time does your plane land, again?” You confirmed the time you had scribbled down onto a neon yellow sticky note a few days earlier as he repeated the short string of numbers, nodding to no one in particular. Why did you feel so nervous? It’s just Mark, you had told yourself.

“Have a safe flight!”

He bade you goodnight in return, accidentally throwing in a “sweet dreams” before he could stop himself. When you put your phones down, you were both too busy trying to calm your racing pulses, however, so it didn’t matter. Mark collapsed onto his bed, hand bumping his duffel bag and heaving a sigh. You sank down into the couch cushion, closing your eyes and leaning your head against the back of the furniture. Neither of you could find the strength to stand in those moments, scared that your legs would give in from the unsteadiness of your nerves, your hearts, your emotions.

A singular worry occupied both of your minds from that point on until you greeted him in the JFK airport terminal the next morning, shy smiles on your faces: is it dangerous to enter into the impending situation of living together? Are you really ready to be in such constant close proximity to the object of your affections, however oblivious you might be to them?

Before his brain could talk his heart out of it, Mark had wrapped you in a tight hug, extra thankful for the welcome since you were all he had here, in the city. You wouldn’t have missed his arrival for the world, and you told him so. You also wouldn’t have missed the chance to make him flush a deep but adorable shade of red, reaching from his rounded cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears.

In your long-term rental car, you drove him back to your apartment, enjoying the quiet sounds of surprise and amazement that spilled from his lips, generated by the city’s sights. As you passed underneath towering skyscrapers, navigated bustling avenues, and caught glimpses of world-renowned landmarks that you both had seen only in the movies when you were younger, you just knew Mark’s eyes held their signature sparkle, despite your inability to see the dark brown orbs glimmer with wonder. You kept yours on the road ahead.

His first day was spent unpacking his suitcases and bags full of possessions, one of which was his most prized: an acoustic guitar.

It had been a gift from his parents when he finished the eighth grade, and all throughout high school, he had turned to music as an escape whenever he needed it. As any new musician does, Mark had played around with chords, experimenting and seeing what sounded good, and before you knew it he had composed a song. Another one followed, then another, and by the end of his freshman year he had written enough to fill an entire album if he so wished.

The guitar had heard every note, every lyric, carried every melody from his heart into the world. It had grown to be a part of him, a worldly sliver of his soul in the form of a simple musical instrument that could convey every hope and every dream, every concern or every frustration. Every love confession. Though that wasn’t saying much, since he only had eyes for you. You didn’t know it, but one of those songs was about you. For you.

You and Mark’s circle of friends tried to set you two up one day in the school’s band room after hours, with the excuse that the second-youngest of the group, Chenle, had forgotten his piano sheet music in there. They sent you to retrieve it, which you only agreed to do after being persuaded by the boy’s intimidating but still lovable pout.

With no sheet music in sight, your eyes landed instead on a diligent Mark that appeared to be the only sign of life in the room, plucking away at the strings as the sun set outside. You had sat with him for a while, neglecting your task and listening to him strum gracefully, softly murmuring lyrics that sounded like your name at one point. You didn’t think much of it, though, not making the connection behind the rest of the words coming out of his mouth and accompanying the chords. His love song was left unacknowledged by the subject of it themselves, and that was both the first and last time he ever attempted to confess to you.

He wondered if now that you were sharing an apartment, he would let something slip by accident. What would he do then?

University had other plans, though, and his fears were temporarily relieved. So fortunately and unfortunately, you were so occupied with schoolwork that trying to balance dating, or even mere thoughts of doing so, with all of your other responsibilities would have been exhausting, not to mention impossible.

Snapping out of your memory-induced daze, you realize that you nearly wandered off the path into a deep snowbank, only aware of this fact because Mark catches you by the wrist and pulls you back toward him to walk at his side. His fingers stay curled around your forearm as you approach a famous bridge, stepping to the side and gazing down at the icy waters below, calm and rippling with the chilly breeze.

“What do you want for Christmas?”

You honestly haven’t thought about it yet, so you can’t give Mark a definite answer. The same goes for him, both of you leaning against the brick railing in a comfortable silence.

In Mark’s mind though, he knows what he wants to give you: something to complement your own equivalent of his guitar, a large collection of handwritten letters and notes from your childhood and school days. Sentimental by nature, you had saved every colorful post-it note one of your friends would slip through the narrow slats of your locker, every birthday card received over the years, every thoughtful postcard from someone’s vacation.

Your favorites are undoubtedly the always-awkward Christmas cards that your friends’ families consistently mail out each December, by far the most humorous parts of your growing collection. You always found yourself chuckling at the pictures displayed on the front. Eyes bright with mirth, you would observe their forced smiles and arms slung carelessly over siblings’ shoulders, their eyes flickering between the camera and something going on behind it, probably the family pet getting into trouble across the yard. You pitied the photographers, surely beyond frustrated as they would try to get everyone to stand still for more than five measly seconds. Mouths were clamped shut and for a brief moment, the air was void of complaints of how itchy someone’s sweater was.

Then the camera would snap, capturing an image that was simply “good enough.” They’d plaster it on the card and in a few days, it would magically appear in the mailboxes of relatives and close friends. Grandparents would overlook the uncomfortable expressions and focus instead on how fast the kids were growing up. You didn’t blame them. Even in four years’ worth of cards, so much could change. In between fits of laughter, you’d stare in awe at the way your friends grew into their features, only becoming more handsome with time and some growing so tall that they even towered over their fathers. You always kept the letters they included, too, detailing the highlights of the year that was soon to come to an end by the time they dropped it into a nearby mailbox.

And like he could read your mind, Mark makes an offhand comment right then and there. “My folks texted me the other day to ask for our address. You know, for the Christmas card.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “Shame I couldn’t be there for the family photos this year.”

“Is it really a shame, though?” You prod, tilting your head a bit at the boy. “You always told me you couldn’t stand waiting around for the so-called ‘right lighting’ and all that.”

“Well, I couldn’t, but now that I’m not there I wish I could go back to those days. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, you know?”

“Right,” you sigh, thinking about how the same saying could easily apply to the way you felt about Mark all throughout your first year of university.

You have a box, made of a dark mahogany wood and lined with elegant golden trim, where you keep all of these letters, these handwritten memories and souvenirs from some of the happiest moments in your life. A gift from a past Christmas, your family had your initials engraved onto the front in a loopy cursive font, making it truly unique and utterly irreplaceable. And, you’ll soon come to realize, valuable.

Mark remembers it well, remembers the many times you’ve shown him its contents, remembers how his eyes sometimes land on the delicate container resting beneath the windowsill in your room, sunlight catching the accents. He knows how much those letters mean to you, and he also knows how much you love returning the favor.

That’s why he wants to give you the tools you need to do just that, and to do it well.

You’ve always been one for writing thank-you notes for any and every gift you receive, your parents having ingrained the habit in you since you were very young. Slowly, crayons turned into pencils and lead became ink. To this day you remain unfazed by the increasing amount of yellowing papers residing in the letter box, but the words imprinted on them never quite fade, strong enough to withstand the test of time.

Too many times in high school Mark would find you, hunched over your dining room table in frustration with a stack of letters beside your arm that you deemed “failed” because your handwriting was bad, or something of the sort. Usually it was the other way around, him being the one in need of comfort, but on those days your roles were reversed.

He had always wondered why you didn’t have fancier supplies that were more suited to your task, but he supposes now that maybe it simply wasn’t an option for you and your family. So a stationery set seems like the perfect gift for you this year.

On a similar note, you’ve already decided what you’re getting him: a guitar case. You happened upon a sleek leather one while browsing the website of a popular music store, coincidentally with a location not too far from your apartment.

Now it’s no longer a question of what to get the other, but how. As university students living on your own, money is scarce. Unknowingly, you both contemplate this concern as you walk side by side, returning to the start of the path that you set out on at least a half hour ago.

This stroll of yours was supposed to clear your minds, but why are they racing even more than before?

There’s no time to worry now, though, and for the next week, your thoughts are forced to shift back to the topic of school and midterms and all your academic endeavors.

Your exam week is over before you know it, and the two of you return to your apartment after the last one only to collapse onto your respective beds, beyond exhausted.

The dreary Friday afternoon clearly calls for a nap, but unbeknownst to you, Mark decides to seize the opportunity that has so conveniently presented itself to him: a chance for him to go out and buy your gift without suspicion. He drops his backpack on the carpet next to his dresser and sighs, wondering if what he’s about to do will be worth it. But it’s you, of course it’ll be worth it.

Thus, his next move is done with a heavy heart. He’s been forced by a lack of funds to come to a decision about your gift, and a difficult one at that. The only thing he can think of doing to even come close to affording a nice stationery set is to sell some things in exchange for cash. Namely, the most valuable item he owns: his beloved guitar. He doesn’t really want to, but deep down he knows that a true friendship warrants the occasional sacrifice. He’s done some research on a nearby pawn shop, and however sketchy those kinds of places may seem, it’s his only feasible option at the moment, with just a week left until Christmas Day.

After making sure you’re fast asleep, he not-so-stealthily slips out of your shared flat, his actions far from silent but even so, you don’t wake up. Mark winces at the unintended high volume of pulling the front door shut behind him, sticking his hand into his jeans pocket and relaxing when he feels his keys at the bottom of the fabric compartment. Guitar strung over his shoulder by the flimsy, fraying strap, he sets off.

With his phone in hand and directions to the pawn shop displayed on the screen, he strides through the lobby of the apartment building and pushes the revolving door, stepping onto the busy sidewalk and into the cold winter air. Shoppers crowd the pavement with hands full of department store tote bags, crinkling loudly as they pass by one another. Shoulders knock together and heels click against the concrete, just some of the many sounds of the city that Mark is still growing used to hearing.

A few blocks and several wrong turns later, he finds himself on a quieter street, standing in front of the shop. It’s dimly lit inside and looks almost abandoned, the letters painted on the window chipped and faded from the wear and weather of past years. A soft bell rings when he lets himself in, searching for some sort of employee.

From behind a cluttered shelf a tall man emerges, the shabby name tag pinned to his vest reading “Johnny.” Well, he’s not some shifty-eyed, balding man wearing a muscle shirt stained with grease. New York continues to be full of surprises.

His dark hair looks neat, the jacket he’s wearing free of any wrinkles and face young but chiseled, high cheekbones prominent.

“How can I help you today?” Johnny booms, stepping behind the counter and absentmindedly sifting through some loose change in bottom of the cash register.

Mark gulps, “I’d like to sell something.” Still not entirely sure he wants to do this, he instinctively tugs on the strap resting atop the fabric of his wool jacket.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” Johnny assures with a small laugh. “What did you have in mind?”

Taking a deep breath, Mark slides the guitar off his shoulder and holds it near his chest for a moment, before extending his arms out towards the counter.

“A guitar, huh? We don’t see many of these,” the tall man comments. “Are you sure? It seems pretty valuable to you in more ways than one.”

Mark’s fingertips trace the strings for the last time and he decides to just get it over with, before he can change his mind. His hands are shaky as he gently places the instrument down on the counter in front of Johnny, taking a step back once he’s done so. “I don’t have much of a choice. I need the money to buy a gift for my… uh, my friend.”

Johnny raises an eyebrow, “Just a friend? Or a special someone?”

“They are special,” Mark confirms, noncommittal to either title that Johnny suggested.

“They must be if you’re willing to give up something like this for them. Okay, that’ll be…”

Johnny tells him what the guitar is worth, matching the amount with a stack of cash and a few old coins, rusty but still holding their value.

Despite the pain of letting something so meaningful go, a bit of joy creeps into Mark’s heart as he realizes that now he can give you a gift that will hopefully become just as meaningful to you as his guitar was to him.

He thanks Johnny and bids him goodbye, step lighter than when he entered, much to his surprise.

It’s the next day when you and Mark find yourselves getting into the Christmas spirit for the first time this season. After he had returned yesterday, you were still out cold on your bed, so he chose to follow your example and do the same. The both of you had slept the rest of the day and almost the entirety of the following morning away, waking up just before noon.

With a sudden burst of energy you spring up from the sheets, overtaken by your excitement for the nearing holiday as you dig out the artificial Christmas tree you had bought last year from your closet. Sure, it may seem lazy of you, but let’s face it: there was no easy way to find a real one in New York City, let alone lug it down the streets, through an elevator and down a narrow hallway to a door it wouldn’t even fit through.

Mark hears the loud rustling of various decorations as he begins to stir, leisurely getting out of bed and checking one of his dresser drawers to make sure he hadn’t merely dreamed up his shopping adventure of the previous evening. There the stationery set sits, tucked safely at the back of the wooden cabinet.

The bookstore he stopped at on his way back last night had many different options to choose from, so he made sure to get one that both matched your box of letters and reminded him of you, with its color scheme and style. A surge of pride brings a smile to his features, pleased with his choice, and he pushes the drawer shut before joining you in the living area.

Your knees brush as he sits down next to you to help unpack the large but manageable box, taking out the tiers of the tree to eventually stack on top of one another. Working more quickly than usual (and probably necessary, there are six days left after all), you assign Mark to stringing the lights across your small balcony while you finish setting up the tree. You knew you shouldn’t have let him do it alone, though, because when you look over at his progress you find more lights wrapped around his body than the metal railing.

“Do you need a hand?” You question, holding back a laugh at the way the cord restricts his arm movements to the point where he can’t even reach for the handle on the sliding door.

From outside he opens his mouth to reply, but pauses, looking down at himself and the mess he’s made of the lights before meeting your eyes once more. His voice is muffled by the glass, but you hear him shout playfully, “I’m the tree now! We don’t need that one.” He tries to gesture to the one you’re currently decorating, but fails, and this time you aren’t able to contain your amusement.

“Let me help you,” you offer, joining him on the balcony and helping him untangle himself from the glowing strands. “Thanks,” Mark replies, sheepishly rubbing at the back of his neck. With your combined efforts, you manage to thread the string of lights through the railing with little to no mishaps, and both of you continue decking out the apartment with other seasonal items for the next several hours.

At some point during the afternoon one of you decided to connect their phone to a speaker and play some music, all Christmas songs of course. As the classic version of “Jingle Bell Rock” begins to blare throughout the living room, Mark abandons his task momentarily to walk over to you. He extends a hand down to you, sitting on the floor, and you accept the invitation to stand up with a questioning look.

“Dance with me?”

It’s hardly a platonic request, Mark realizes once the words leave his lips, but even so you don’t shy away, glancing down at your feet with a slight trace of bashfulness in the action.

He intertwines your fingers somewhat loosely, placing his non-dominant hand on your waist and beginning to sway, slowly at first but then his movements become more exaggerated, shoulders tilting dramatically to one side after the other and straying from the rhythm of the music. You join Mark in drawing out the jesting movements, losing yourself in laughter and leaning forward to bury your face in his shoulder, the heat of your breath hitting his skin through the thin t-shirt he’s wearing. In one last attempt to keep the joyful smile on your face, he steps back a bit and holds your wrist above your head to twirl you in a circle.

The electric guitar in the song fades as you collapse onto the carpet, recovering from your fit of giggles. The sun has begun to sink in the sky, you can tell by the gold and orange glow that your apartment becomes bathed in as it sets, inching closer to the horizon and eventually becoming hidden by tall skyscrapers in the distance.

Satisfied with your progress so far, you both decide to call it a day, though in truth there aren’t many decorations left to put out. A few stray ornaments and some garlands remain, still packed up in boxes that you would need help reaching. You’re also eager to get your mind off of the way your heart was palpitating as you danced with Mark, your roommate and friend but nothing more, nothing less. You have enough to worry about at the moment, not wanting to add potential feelings for the boy into the mix. Shit, you think, you still need to buy his gift.

“What should we watch?” Mark asks, scrolling through the list of movie choices on the TV screen.

“I don’t really care, anything’s fine.”

His finger presses a button on the remote to select a film at random, the intro playing as you scan the refrigerator shelves for a frozen meal. Hopefully it’s not one of those cheesy holiday romances.

Settling down on the couch a few minutes later, you with the warmed-up container in your lap and Mark holding a cup of ramen noodles, both of you fall into a comfortable chatter about the movie. Thank god it’s a comedy.

Occasionally you find yourself diverting your attention from the harsh display and directing it over to the panes of floor-to-ceiling windows, where you watch more and more lights flicker on in the distance, illuminating the urban landscape as night falls. The view is breathtaking, but so is the way your face softly glows with their warmth, even from blocks away. Not that Mark would ever tell you that, of course.

“I’m going out!” Mark hears shuffling from outside his bedroom the next morning, your voice instantly bringing him to his senses. Curious, he shoots out of bed and flings the door open to find you, one arm stuck through the sleeve of your coat and the other buried in a bag, but it’s not the one you usually bring when you leave the flat. Eyes wide and panicked at the boy’s unexpected appearance, you clutch it to your chest with a visible amount of difficulty, Mark notices.

“Where are you off to?” He squints at the brightness of the living room, the early morning light pouring in through the glass on the far wall.

“...Maybe I can’t tell you,” you respond with a huff, slinging the heavy bag over your shoulder and pulling the rest of your coat on.

“What do you mean, you can’t—oh.”

“Nice going, genius,” you shake your head, feigning disappointment. “It’s not like it’s Christmas this week or anything.”

“My bad, sorry.” Mark winces and rakes a hand through his bedhead, abashed.

“I’ll be back soon, okay?”

With that, you step into the hallway and offer a parting smile over your shoulder, shutting the front door behind you.

At least your being out of the apartment gives Mark time to wrap your gift. All he has to do is figure out how.

Johnny gets a familiar feeling when he sees you enter the pawn shop, fumbling with your things and reluctantly gazing at whatever’s in the tote you’re holding. Are you also about to make an exchange you could potentially regret?

“One second,” you excuse yourself as you step up to the counter, placing the heavy bag down and removing the large item from inside: your letter box, minus its contents. Of course you would never get rid of those, but despite the letters and notes being so special to you, the box they were always kept in is also a significant part of your attachment and the memories you hold dear.

With a thud you set it down, Johnny glancing between the hesitation on your face and the wooden container on the counter in front of him. “Let me guess, you want to exchange this for cash?”

“Yes, sir, that’s exactly what I—” You pause, biting your tongue. “Hold on… Look, I know this is a pawn shop and that’s what people do here, but how are you so sure?”

Johnny’s gut tells him he shouldn’t give away the fact that a boy wearing the very same expression and with the same sense of purpose and determination was in here just two days earlier. So he corrects his mistake with a simple “Lucky guess” and a hearty chuckle.

Without Johnny even asking, you tell him that you’re also looking for some extra cash in order to afford a gift for your “friend,” and you say the word with so much conviction and certainty that it’s almost laughable. The information given to Johnny helps him fully connect the dots in his mind, realizing that each of you are the one the other talked about.

Before handing you the money, Johnny tears off a sheet of paper from a nearby notepad and asks you to fill out your information, most importantly your address. He has to lie a bit, saying it’s for contact purposes, but his heart is in the right place nonetheless. Just in case something goes south (and the sinking feeling in his stomach tells him that it will somehow), doing so gives him an option, even if he doesn’t know what that option might be yet.

“Thank you, Johnny, and Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas!” He returns your wish cheerfully as you push the door open to leave.

“Good luck finding a gift for your ‘friend,’ too.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks when you see his teasing use of air quotes, but still smile.

On your way back to the apartment Mark texts you and asks you to check the mail, saying he forgot to do so yesterday. When you arrive in the lobby and make your way over to the cluster of mailboxes, you’re instantly shocked to find a large cardboard box shoved into the small cubby with your and Mark’s name on it. You’re already struggling to carry the guitar case you bought for him, so you decide to make a second trip later.

A few moments after stepping out of the elevator, you knock on the door to your apartment, hoping with all your might that Mark won’t actually open it and instead just answer with a “Come in” as he always does. Your wish is, thankfully, granted, but it’s quickly followed by “Wait, wait, wait!” As it happens, he just finished wrapping your gift and needs another minute or two to tuck it away somewhere until the big day arrives. “Can you stay out there until I say?”

“Sure,” you reply, “but I’m going to have to ask you to do the same.”

“How about I stay in my room while you come in and do… whatever you need to?”

“Sounds good.”

With his door closed, Mark hears the front one open and shut as you enter. Trying not to make any noise that would give away the size of the item you just bought, you finally settle for hiding the leather case underneath your bed, concealed by the drapery attached to its frame that hovers just above the floor.

Mark had hastily placed the now-wrapped (though not elegantly so) stationery set back into his dresser, so he’s already out of his room by the time you leave yours. “Any letters or packages?” He questions when he sees you.

“Oh, right!” You snap your fingers, “We do have a package but my hands were full, so I’ll bring it up right now.”

“Eggnog?”

While the box had looked fairly ordinary from the outside, upon opening it and glancing at the return address you learned it was actually anything but that. Mark’s and your parents had sent a holiday care package of sorts, including both of your families’ Christmas cards and a carton of eggnog, along with some small gifts that are meant to be saved for the morning of the 25th. Also mixed in are a few small decorations (not that you need more), some baking supplies complete with a copy of the recipe for the cookies you make every year, and a soft pair of mittens for each of you. He hopes you don’t realize that one of the items is a sprig of mistletoe.

“You don’t like eggnog?” You ask, stunned. Mark shrugs, “I don’t really care for milk but it’s the thought that counts, I guess.”

That evening you and Mark take another stroll, this time choosing to stay on the streets and admire the festively adorned buildings and shops as you pass by them. Admiring Christmas lights at this time of year is nothing new to you and Mark. In fact, when you lived in Canada you would do the same thing. The only difference is that back then, it involved driving through quiet suburban neighborhoods and not ambling through crowded city streets and alleyways on foot.

Snowflakes begin to cascade from the heavens as you make your way back around to the block where you live. Mark sticks his tongue out to catch one of the small crystals, and it immediately melts in his mouth, eliciting a high-pitched laugh from the boy. Snow is also something you both are more than used to by now, having grown up with white Christmases all your lives. It makes you wonder if the holiday season would be the same without it.

“You know what we should do?” Mark turns to you just as you’re about to enter the apartment building again. “Go ice skating at Rockefeller Center.”

“Mark, c’mon, you know stuff like that is overpriced. And besides, I can’t skate to save my life. Remember—”

“That time in sophomore year? You bet I do,” he laughs as he remembers how you clumsily fell not even two seconds after stepping onto the ice with your skates, and then refused to let go of the railing for the rest of the day. The elevator whirs to life, climbing floor after floor with ease.

“Hey,” you offer, “we can still go and watch people skate, I’m sure there’s some place to sit.”

“And we can look at the Christmas tree, too,” Mark adds, eyes brightening at the idea.

“Right. I forget you haven’t seen it in person before.” The cabin doors open with a ding and you step out, your eyes landing on the door to your apartment a few yards away.

When you turn on the TV, Mark becomes mesmerized by the movie that’s playing, since it takes place in NYC and he recognizes so many places from actually being there. He scrambles to remove his jacket and beanie, plopping down onto the couch once they’re safely hooked on the coat rack.

Watching him, you sigh. Would anything really change if you were dating? Assuming your feelings were returned, of course, but you can’t imagine that your relationship would differ much. You certainly wouldn’t go on extravagant dates, or buy expensive gifts for each other, but that’s not what love is about, anyway. With the exception of a few extra hugs and the addition of kisses, along with more forms of physical affection in general (actually, scratch that, Mark’s always been awkward with those kinds of things), you’d still be by each other’s side just like always.

As you sit down next to him and feel an arm wrap around your shoulder, you don’t shrug it off, instead embracing the warm and fuzzy feeling in your heart that you can’t blame on the holiday season this time.

Mark’s glad, too. He’s been working up the courage to do that all day.

Late that night, you quietly tiptoe into the living area, retrieving an old box from your move-in last year that will fit his gift perfectly, and won’t give away what’s inside. Your hands fold and tape the wrapping paper with care, tying a neat ribbon once you’re done. Sure, you had to give up something that meant a lot to you in order to afford Mark’s present, but the gains outweigh the losses. You find comfort in imagining the way his face will surely light up with pure joy on Christmas morning, drifting off to sleep with ease once you’ve hidden the rectangular parcel back underneath your bed.

A few days pass and soon it’s the 23rd, and you join Mark at the railing of the ice rink, of course on the side with solid ground. “Ice is solid ground,” Mark had corrected, but you stood firm in your words. “More like slippery ground, if you ask me.”

Luckily you had been allowed to stand here for free, because god only knows what small, simple thing someone would be charged for in New York. It’s happened to you before, and you’re not even a tourist.

Mark’s dark eyes gaze up at the 75-foot-tall tree in wonder, pupils dilating and reflecting the tens of thousands of bright lights strung through the dark green branches. They seem to sparkle with sheer amazement. Just then someone skates a little too close to the section of railing you’re leaning on, startling Mark out of his LED-induced daze and putting the most adorable look of surprise on his face.

His focus shifts to the people on the ice, wearing sweaters and jackets of every color imaginable, and the sight is still as beautiful as the looming Christmas tree above. He notices some couples, holding onto one another or skating hand-in-hand, and it makes him wonder if that could be you two someday, at a future Christmas, or if it’s an idea absurd enough for an alternate reality.

Mark sees you shiver out of the corner of his eye, and it’s his cue to suggest returning home for the evening. In a very cliché and boyfriend-esque gesture he offers you his jacket, but you decline, insisting that it’s not far and assuring him that you’ll be okay.

Back in your heated flat, you twist open the lid of the eggnog carton and pour a small glass for yourself. “Are you sure you don’t want some?” You call out to Mark from the kitchen, snatching one of the cookies you made the other day and finding a paper plate for the thin shortbread wafer, lined with elegant white icing and dusted with sprinkles.

“I already told you, I don’t like eggnog!”

“Have you even tried it before?” Mark grumbles at your nagging. You really sound like his mom right now.

“No…”

You appear at the other end of the couch, holding out a small cup with just a sip or two of eggnog in it. “Try it. You never know.”

He knows you won’t leave until you see him lift it to his lips for yourself, so he does. Immediately the sweet drink overwhelms his taste buds, and also leaves a slight sting on his tongue.

“What’s in this stuff?” He coughs, nose scrunching a bit from the strong taste. Surprisingly, though, he doesn’t hate it. Following you back to the kitchen, Mark pours a full glass this time, already gulping it down.

“Uh,” you scan the ingredients on the back of the carton once he sets it down on the counter, “milk, cream, sugar, eggs…”

“...whiskey? What the hell?”

“It has alcohol,” Mark slurs, his giggling interrupted by a hiccup. Having never drank before, he’s undeniably a lightweight, and even a little bit can get him wasted almost instantly.

“Mom and Dad must have mixed something up, because they definitely didn’t mean to send us alcoholic eggnog.”

Sure enough, back home in Canada your parents are wondering why they only have the kid-friendly stuff in their fridge.

Mark latches on to you, arm curling lazily around your waist. Great, he’s one of those people that gets clingy when they’re drunk. “Try some,” he whines, nuzzling into your shoulder a little.

“Are you crazy?”

“No one will know,” he laughs, hiccuping again. Giving in to his adorably drunken pout, you take one sip from your original glass but no more, an unpleasant buzz taking over your whole mouth.

Not looking forward to finding a hangover cure on Christmas Eve of all days, you pray that you’ll stay sober enough to take care of the tipsy boy, who’s currently pressing his face into the back of your neck and—shit, did he just kiss you there? You really don’t need this right now.

“Mark, you’re drunk, okay? Stop it,” you caution.

“But I love you,” he murmurs, warm breath fanning your skin, and you want to kick yourself for almost saying it back. Does he even mean it, though? Alcohol makes people say crazy things, things they don’t mean, so you shouldn’t get your hopes up. You unhook his arm from your torso and turn around to push against his chest, frustrated. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He seems to have just remembered something, because he ignores you and instead goes over to where the care package was still sitting, digging into the bottom and pulling out something you hadn’t noticed before. “Look,” Mark declares in a nasal voice, “mistletoe.”

You exasperatedly hang your head, desperate to slam it into the nearest wall. With much difficulty, you eventually manage to get him tucked underneath the blanket, leaving a glass of water on his nightstand for when he wakes up. “Get some sleep,” you say simply.

He tells you goodnight with a fond mumble of your name as you shut the bedroom door behind you. Rubbing your eyes, you yawn before turning off the lights and heading to bed yourself, trying to block out the events that had just taken place.

Your head aches when you wake up the next morning, and you feel like garbage, so you can only imagine how much worse Mark must be doing. Quickly chugging a water bottle, you reluctantly go to knock on his door, hearing a pained groan once you enter. He’s sitting up, chin resting in one hand and the other anchored onto the heavy comforter covering his legs.

“How are you feeling?” The obvious question with an even more obvious answer makes Mark wince. “Awful.”

“Sorry.” It’s silent for a moment, Mark pressing three fingers to his throbbing forehead and you staring aimlessly at the wall. “I knew that eggnog was a bad idea.”

“You were the one that told me to try it!”

“I didn't know it had alcohol in it!”

You sigh, dejected. Something tells Mark that your head isn’t the only thing hurting.

“Hey, I know that look. What’s wrong?” He prods, voice soft and gentle and altogether unlike how it had been last night. You meet his eyes for a moment, about to speak but biting your lip at the last second. Mark’s brain puts two and two together at your expression.

“Oh god, did I say something? Do something?”

“Yeah, actually,” you reply in a huff. “First you kissed my neck, then you told me you loved me, and then you held up a clump of mistletoe and implied that we should kiss underneath it.”

His memories of the previous evening are all a blur, so he truly would have no idea what happened if you hadn’t just said something. Mark knows he screwed up, bad.

You tense when you feel him place his hand over yours, but you don’t snatch it away. After collecting his thoughts, Mark clears his throat.

“Look, I… I know that’s not the best way for you to find out how someone feels about you. But I’m completely sober, and I can tell you that I meant what I said last night.”

“You promise?”

“Promise,” Mark replies.

“...Can you say it again, then?”

He blushes, “That I…?”

You nod, the corners of your lips lifting into a small smile.

“I love you,” Mark tells you for the second time in the last 24 hours, but this time you know you can believe him. The pain of your hangover goes away for a moment as he takes your jaw in his hands and connects your lips, just barely retaining the buzz of the alcohol but not enough to bother you. Slowly you kiss him back, sinking down onto the mattress beside him.

Mark pulls away for air a few seconds later, thumb grazing your cheek lovingly. “Does this mean we’re—”

“Dating? If you want it to, then sure,” your finger traces swirly shapes on the small of his back while you assure him that neither of you need to rush into anything if you aren’t ready.

“I don’t want things to change, though.”

“Who said they have to? I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and we’re already pretty close, you know? Making it ‘official’ doesn’t necessarily mean ‘different,’ so...”

Mark hums in agreement, “You’re right. Okay, I can live with that.”

“And I can’t live another second without food. I’m making breakfast,” you quip, reverting back to the usual banter between you and him.

“I’ll cook the eggs,” Mark insists as you both make your way out of his bedroom and into the kitchen.

“You absolutely will not!”

The night before Christmas had started out unlike any that you’d ever experienced before, with you confronting your now-boyfriend about a drunken love confession the previous day. But now, it’s ending just like every year, with you cozy and curled up in front of the television as the last few segments of the news play.

It’s the coldest Christmas Eve in years. You learned this after the meteorologist had informed viewers of the record only a few minutes earlier, inadvertently planting an idea in Mark’s mind.

Right as you’re about to turn in for the night, setting a plate of decorated cookies and a glass of milk down on the end table (as is tradition in your families, no matter how old you are), Mark holds out his arms like a child might. “Can we…?” He asks in a quiet voice, nervous to finish his sentence.

“Huh?”

The boy inhales sharply, “It’s freezing. Do you wanna sleep in my bed tonight?” His cheeks flush a deep red that’s almost the color of Christmas itself.

You’re slightly taken aback, and then you remember it’s just Mark. “Sure, why not,” you answer with a light shrug and a smile on your face.

“But no funny business,” you inform him as you climb under the sheets together, instantly happy with your choice to join him because double the people means double the body heat. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Mark replies, pecking your lips. His wrist finds the warm skin of your neck and you flinch away.

“Your hands are cold!” He just snickers at your whining.

The two of you fall asleep more quickly than you ever have on Christmas Eve, usually overcome with nerves and excitement, but now, as two college-aged kids, you’re comfortable and not rushing the morning’s arrival at all, content in each other’s arms for the moment.

You feel like you’re 10 years old again as you rush into the living room at 8am the next day, the bright, early morning sky lighting up your entire apartment. At the base of your Christmas tree sits a humble amount of presents, composed of the two that you bought for each other plus the half-dozen small ones from your parents.

You hand Mark one of the cookies from the end table and grab one for yourself, taking a bite of the sweet treat as you sit down and motioning for him to do the same.

“Open yours first,” you say eagerly, referring to your gift for him. Mark shakes his head and points to what he got you, “No, you go first.”

“Fine, we’ll open them at the same time.” Mark nods, satisfied with the compromise and handing you both the packages.

“On three. One, two…”

The final number barely leaves your lips before you both begin tearing into the paper excitedly, Mark reaching for the flaps on the box and you unfolding the tissue paper.

When you each see what the other gifted you with, it’s completely silent, save for the TV playing a Christmas Day special in the background.

He gazes blankly at you, licking his lips as his eyes dart between the guitar case and your expression.

“I appreciate the gift, but I…” Mark pauses, unsure how to tell you this.

You don’t say a word, raising your eyebrows as a signal for him to continue.

“I sold my guitar to pay for your gift,” he breathes.

“You what? Mark, that guitar means everything to you! Why would you do that?”

“Because you’re worth it, of course!”

“Well, I did the same thing,” you break the news with an unamused expression. “I sold my letter box to pay for that case.”

His eyes become impossibly wider at that, nearly bulging out of their sockets. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

You groan and lie down on the floor, beyond discouraged. “Let me guess, the pawn shop on 23rd?”

“Yep.”

“Hey, wait a minute.” An idea hits Mark like a rush of cold air. “Maybe we can work out a deal or something.”

“Meaning?”

“We go back and see if we can trade in our new gifts for enough money to get our old things back.”

“One, I doubt it’s that easy, and two, pretty much everything is closed on Christmas Day.” You’re half tempted to laugh because of how ironic this situation is.

Mark sighs, “I guess that makes sense.”

“We can still try, though.”

Sure enough, the pawn shop is dark, even more so than usual, and the door doesn’t budge. A sign taped to the window from the inside confirms your fear: Closed on Christmas. Gloved hands pressed onto the glass, you and Mark admit your defeat. You had been bested by the giving spirit of the holiday season, almost too generous for your own good.

But it’s the message that the day itself stands for after all, for putting aside material value and doing something out of the kindness of your heart just to make someone else happy. That’s what it’s all about, and you and Mark had personally experienced it this year.

So you’re surprised to find two boxes leaning on the wall beside the door to your apartment the next morning, shapes oddly familiar. Could it be?

Just hours earlier, the hallway surveillance cameras caught a tall man striding down the corridor, carrying those exact packages under his arms. In the video he pulls out a scrap of paper and a pen from his coat pocket, scribbling a short message before tucking it underneath the ribbon of the larger parcel and leaving the building just as quickly as he came.

You and Mark’s only clue as to who had returned your items is a messy ‘J’ at the end of the note attached to the box containing his guitar. Exchanging knowing glances, you both grin, squeezing your intertwined hands with the same name in mind.

...So what if Johnny had to take a bit of money out of his own paycheck to cover the cost of the items? Besides, it’s Christmas. And his boss never has to know.

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dangermousie · 4 years ago

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So, I am reading more MTL of Mistakenly Saving the Villain (if you use deepl it actually makes a really good MTL for this one, better than Paranoid Emperor and way better than Qiang Jin Jiu) and:

1. SQS is beginning to figure out that Yue Wuhuan’s legendary bad luck seems hella deliberate on the heavens’ part. It didn’t really click for him when YWH mentioned back way when that he had many opportunities to discover the slave trader’s true intent but always somehow missed it as if fate was directing him. And SQS did wonder why heaven was giving YWH a lightning tribulation way beyond his level during foundation building as if it was trying to kill him but then he took the hit on himself and ten year coma so it makes sense he didn’t think about it when he woke up. But then the Phoenix kite YWH goes to fly for him gets its string severed and the Phoenix (and Phoenix imagery and terms keep being used for YWH) comes crashing down because an ant chewed through the string at precisely the wrong place and SQS starts going “what are the odds of that?! The hell?!” And in the latest chapter, when YWH tells him how he got the blood vine and says his luck seems to have changed for the better, SQS is thinking “really?” Use your genius brain, SQS since nobody else can - yes, YWH is arguably even more brilliant but he’s too damaged and too enmeshed to figure it out.

Side note: I am hella spoiled for what is actually going on and the concept of a whole world created and precisely tailored to torture you is horrifying. Though, if you think, isn’t any different at first than the seeming original set up - if you, like seemingly YWH, are created to be a minor tragic character, then the universe IS focused on torturing you. So no wonder SQS doesn’t think anything of it at first (even taking into account that he thinks he rescued the novel protagonist and not a minor character slated to gruesomely die) - but when he rescues YWH and so the story’s mistreatment is him should have ended but he still seems to have a heavens’ put target on his back - that’s when SQS starts thinking and I love it!

2. It’s established with no muss no fuss that modern day doctor SQS and this world’s immortal cultivating doctor SQS are one and the same - their soul is the same etc. Not clear if they are reincarnation or soul fragments or what but I don’t care, it’s awesome either way.

3. You have succeeded making me feel bad for An Long. Jeez, everyone in this needs decades and decades of therapy. But as someone who’s read the ending, I find his and YWH’s different approaches at the end - An Long, like the rest of the deities, takes a memory wiping potion because he can’t bear to remember what he did and what happened in that world, and YWH, whose existence and what happened to him in that world is worse than anything the rest of them experienced put together (I mean that world was literally created to break him so) chooses not to because forgetting the horror would also mean forgetting the love and care and salvation of SQS. Swoooon!

4. That kid in medicine valley is cruising for a bruising but honestly I hope YWH doesn’t murder him because he’s also a victim even if not as extreme and he needs THERAPY (they all do omg!) but if he keeps going, YWH will probably bury him under the floorboards because any kindness, mercy or empathy in him are long gone.

5. SQS’ dream turned nightmare where he sits and studies all day and has literally no emotion and comprehends none and the only pleasure in his day is watching the Phoenix fly through the heavens and that is how his world acquires color and he comprehends emotion and then he wakes up crying because the Phoenix is gone!!!!! Spoiled me is rolling in it.

6. SQS is actually the perfect person to crack the uncrackable puzzle not just because he’s logical and smart but because he has the mind of a researcher in a sense of no matter how many times an experiment fails he will not give up but do a new approach and redo redo redo redo thousands of times.

7. I love (I mentioned it before) that SQS has his own damage and his own pain - he is not saintly to YWH because he doesn’t comprehend suffering - he is compassionate and patient and loving with YWH because that is his nature. That passage about how he was separated from everyone by his illness and how he felt as a burden to his family because he saw what it did to them and was relieved to die (that line that after he reincarnated, he never thought of them again because he knew they were best off without him and shouldn’t miss him!!!) is gut punching. And the cultivator incarnation felt the same honestly in a sense of having nothing to live for - that is why the OG Song Qingshi let An Long kill him right when the novel started (AL lost his temper and did it accidentally but as SQS points out, his body’s protections would automatically activate and the fact that they did not was because he didn’t mind dying - he couldn’t give his heart but his life he can give since he doesn’t mind one way or another. That’s horrifying!!!! But not surprising - it’s consistent how he completely disregards pain or is willing to pay with his body (not that way) for things and just...)

8. The fact that they are now necking on the reg is lovely. It’s very young teen tbh but how appropriate - for very different reasons, neither got proper teen development hormones or relationships or anything so for them to be able to do the sweet fumbling without it leading to anything more and it being so satisfying seems appropriate. And honestly it’s super healing to YWH’s particular toxic cocktail of issues - he wants SQS badly but if SQS actually exhibited genuine physical desire beyond kissing, it would freak YWH the hell out (since he associates that with dirtiness and horror - he’s either going to hate himself more thinking he is so horrible as to taint pure SQS by making him experience desire or start wondering if SQS is somehow like the rest of the world.) Slow and easy is honestly necessary here. And that way he gets to feel loved and gets to have the touch he craves and it’s SQS insisting he’s not dirty etc, but without the rest. And honestly, SQS also needs it very slow because it’s clear he’s in love but sexual desire is only now beginning to wake up in the smallest sense - he loves kissing but he is not physically turned on. In a way, despite how long he’s been around, he’s a white sheet of paper and is slowly coming alive but it’s sloooow. (Honestly, except for the fact that long term it would cause issues for YWH who despite his trauma does have a drive, it would have been interesting to have SQS actually asexual (but not aromantic). I do think even once he does discover he enjoys sexual activities, he’s not going to be particularly libido driven. He will want YWH because he loves YWH, but outside of that no.)

9. I get viscerally uncomfortable reading about YWH’s mysophobia not because I share it but because his coping strategies about it which barely allow him to get ahead of it are - it just hits.

Anyway, this novel is awesome!

#cnovel #mistakenly saving the villain

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oneirataxxiaa · 5 years ago

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Give Us A Little Love

Request from Anon : Oof i pressed ask before i could end it. Here we go again:"Do you trust me?" "Always" "Look,a shooting star! Make a wish." "Take my hand." "Are you...blushing?" with YJ Kaldur.

Im so sorry for the wait Anon, I had some things I had to deal with. Made it long for you to make up for it! I’ve been listening to the song ‘ Give Us A Little Love ‘ by Fallulah so I kinda based the Y/N off that? used this as bit of a vent piece, Idk. Missed a prompt cause i couldn’t fit it in. Enjoy! *opens writing angst playlist*

warnings: serious angst. mentions of suicide, swearing, neglect, trust issues?

“Give us a little love, give us a little love . We never had enough, we never had enough”

***

Trouble seemed to follow her everywhere she went.

Never able to settle down, each time she felt as though she had found herself a forever home, Y/n L/n experienced something that would send her foster parents running to send her away. The daughter of an unnamed member of the League of Assassins and a civilian, the child who dealt with horrors no one should have to witness at an age such as that, Y/n learned early on to trust no one, do what's best for herself to stay alive another day.

Y/n was raised by her mother's guild until she was old enough to fight, being subjected to the terrors dealt by the League of Assassins, her childhood was disrupted. She developed little social skills beyond basic polite greetings and formal conversations. She understood the human body, not for science exams, but to know what the fastest way to kill a person was. She could fight her way out of any battle, but place her in a social situation and she would shut down. Unable to think for herself.

Y/n was fourteen when she was put into foster care, after Talia Al Gaul became pregnant with a son and there was a new heir to the league. Tossed away like a bag of trash, her mother didn't stand up for her, and her father wouldn't care for her. Pushed into the system and forgotten.

"What happened now?" Mrs Davis asked her husband. She looked tired, resting her head on her hand, her eyes half closed. Her husband of ten years shook his head.

"She punched someone, one of the upperclassmen bumped into her and she reacted by sending them across the hallway" the man was in his early forties, tired from work and stressed from the current situation.

"God, what are we going to do with her Luke? We can't home-school her, and she refuses to see a therapist! we've tried punishing her, rewarding good behaviour, doing nothing! I don't know what to do anymore" the woman sounded desperate. Her and her husband thought a good idea would be to take in a seventeen year old trouble child through fostering. Over the three months they had her, nothing quelled her radical behaviour.

Luke Davies sighed. Exhaling and rubbing a hand over his eyes with frustration. "There's nothing we can do" he paused, hating the idea that crossed his mind. "we'll have to put her back into the system. Our health and life is important as well, so, we have to take care of that" his wife nodded, looking down at her hands, tears of guilt pricking in the corners of her brown eyes, becoming heavy.

"I'll call Ruth in the morning then".

Beyond the kitchen, Y/n sat with her back against the wall, a scowl on her face as tears threatened to spill. 'emotions betray us, control them' her mothers voice rang in her ears, a memory of toddlers and nightmares and staying awake hoping and praying the monsters from the green pool wouldn't come for her. Y/n sniffed, her tears drying as she willed them to do. The teen hiked her bag further up her shoulder and took a breath, walking past the entrance to the kitchen and out the front door, ignoring the yells of her foster parents, Y/n started into a run, disappearing into the streets as dusk set in.

She didn't know when she ended up a the waters edge, but it was plenty after dark. The sun long gone and her foster parents left far behind. Y/n walked along the boardwalk, feet kicking at pebbles on the ground, sending them skipping across the concrete. Giving herself an idea, she picked up the pebbles as she walked, placing each small stone into the pocket of her jacket until she had quite the collection growing there. Further down the coast she could see a peir, stretching out over the water. That was her destination.

Voices were heard to her left, making the girl turn to see a couple whispering to each other, on dragging the other - who was laughing - towards the closed fairground further down. Y/n frowned at the freedom the two seemed to think they had, too distracted by each other to care about consequences of their actions. That was dangerous, a thrill that many couples took the chance on as far as she knew. As far as she knew, having no experience in that department anyway. The couple vanished from sight and their laughter faded into the night like a memory.

The concrete ground turned to wood, and the crunching of stones turned to occasional creaks and groans from the old wooden plants supporting the jetty. Y/n walked the length of it, reaching the end and standing still. The girl enjoyed the smell of sea salt, the crashing ambience of the waves and calls of birds gliding over the water. The moonlight seemed only to amplify the wild beauty of the ocean, making her want to stay there forever. Y/n picked a stone from her pocket, flicking it out with her wrist, it didn't even skip. Simply crashing into the water with a dissatisfying plop. The teen tried again, angling it further down and still failing to achieve the skip she wanted.

"you should bend your whole body, it helps get the right angle" Y/n jumped back, pulling a pocket knife from her jeans and flicking the blade out. Her eyes were narrowed at the person who snuck up on her out of nowhere. "its alright, I'm not planning on hurting you" raising his hands in a calming motion. Y/n didn't move. "if I was planning to, I would have done it when you didn't know I was here don't you think?" he reasoned, motioning for her to put down the weapon. A minute passed of the boy eyeing the weapon, then looking her up and down. Any movement either made sent the other into a split second panic. Seconds ticked by, and slowly, Y/n lowered the knife, tucking it back into her pocket. The boy let out a breath and walked a little closer. Now that he was out of the shadow of the buildings on the shore, Y/n could see his features clearly. A strange suit with two handles strapped on his back. Dark skin, glossy from the salt water, blonde hair in a close shaved buzz-cut, and pale turquoise eyes that looked darker in the night air.

"can i ask what you're doing out here on your own, throwing rocks into the water?" he walks closer, eventually standing beside her.

"you may not ask" she replies, taking another rock in her hand, pausing and considering the boys first words to her. Y/n bent sideways at the waist, bending her knees and swinging her arm, being sure to flick her wrist. With the added momentum and angle, the rock bounced three times of the surface of the water before sinking on the forth landing and vanishing under the waves. Content with the one victory, Y/n dug out the rest of the rocks in her pocket, holding out her full hand and dropping them into the water with a series of splashes. She watched the fall.

"A waste of rocks if you ask me" The boy said, now leaning against one of the support poles.

"I didn't"

"didn't what?"

"ask you, I didn't ask you" Y/n clarified, sitting down on the wood, watching the waves like a mesmerising swirl of hypnotising spirals, pulling her deeper in. It felt dark in her mind, dark and scary. She felt her own emotions smothering her, suffocating her and clawing to get out.

A tear fell.

Almost instantly, the boy was by her side, sitting on the wood beside her, legs hanging over the edge in the cold water. He didn't say anything, but every action he made clarified the idea that he would listen.

Y/n opened her mouth, throwing words into the wind, venting frustration, anger and confusion, her words a spiral of fear and unfamiliarity. She felt afraid, afraid she would get a proper family. It was her fault, her behaviour and actions drove these kind people away. But she could help it, couldn't stop herself from doing things that made foster parents scared to have her around them. She couldn’t control herself some times, lashing out in fear and anger to those around her. People were scared of her, avoiding her in the hallways, refusing to work with her for projects. It hurt, to be isolated, but she knew it was her fault. She closed her mouth, halting her words and looking down at the water, tears falling freely now, though there were few. She didn’t know why she was speaking to him, telling him everything that had happened. She didn’t want to

“you’re allowed to react how you have been, nobody should expect you to stay quiet through everything that happened” The boy said, crossing his legs underneath himself. Y/n stayed silent, looking out at the water. “do you feel better? letting everything out?”

She nodded, raising to her feet, Y/n kicked her foot against the ground, frowning.

“Uh- thank you-”

“Kaldur” he said.

“Thank you Kaldur” she nodded, sticking her hands in her pockets and turning on her heel to head back towards the Davis’ house. Leaving the strange boy behind her.

***

It shouldn’t have surprised her that her foster parents had called to return her. She found herself sitting in the police station, being picked up by a cop car when the Davis’ reported her as a runaway. Sitting with her head rolled back on the chair, her legs kicked out in front of her and her hands behind her head, Her mind was slow, running over scenarios in her head of what would happen to her. Would she be thrown back into the system? Would they put her out on her own? She would be eighteen in a month. Would they just throw her out on her own, to deal with what lay ahead with nowhere to turn?

Y/n looked conflicted, alone and confused. Which is what interested one of the training detectives. He was young, around eighteen or nineteen, but his connections helped jump start his dream career.

“What are you in for?” He asked. Y/n looked up. This one had dark hair and blue eyes with a spark in them that made her wonder what was going on in his head. He looked like he was planning something, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out exactly what it was going on in his head.

“Running away apparently” she shrugged, sitting up and crossing one leg over the other in a more comfortable position. Dick frowned, sitting himself in the chair across from her and leaning his arms on his knees. He didn’t wear a uniform like most of the officers in the station, having on a blue shirt, black cotton jacket and jeans. He looked almost casual, at home in the station among officers much older them himself. But something told Y/n he was smarter then he looked.

“Why��d you run away?”

“Why should I tell you?” Suspicion rose on her voice. Dick sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

“I’ve done the same stuff, when I first moved in with my adopted dad I ran away three times in the first week” that made Y/n laugh a little, shaking her head with amusement.

“In one week?”

“yep, was probably my best achievement at that point in my life” he grinned, “I was thirteen as well”

“Good on you” the girl nodded, picking at the corner of her shirt, pulling a thread out and watching the fabric bunch up.

“Yeah, then I settled into the house, and well, thats that I guess”. He trailed off, making Y/n frown and look down.

“Its not that easy”

“Its not, not when you don’t try” He looked like he was trying to help, but he was just pushing her further out of her comfort zone.

“I did try!” Y/n exclaimed. “I tried so hard to be a good kid, I can’t help it . . .” her outburst faded quickly and Dick got to his feet.

“I’m going to make a quick call, i’ll be back, I promise” his smile was infectious, and Y/n returned it, looking at the floor again as she ran a hand over her face and then rested her arms on her knees, an uncomfortable position, but she didn’t seem to care about it in the moment. Time passed, and Y/n seemed to be ignored by officers who walked past. The occasional person would send a smile her way but ultimately, she felt like she was on an island, in the middle of the sea of people who were judging her for being there.

“Alright, you’re all set!” Dick appeared out of nowhere, phone and keys in hand. His sudden appearance made Y/n start in surprise, looking at him with wide eyes for a second before calming down and settling again.

“What?” Y/n asked, confused, getting to her feet and following the boy as he gestured for her to follow him. They walked from the office, out into the hallway and towards the lobby room, filled with various civilians and criminals being brought in for holding.

“I, being myself, made a call to my dad, we’ve got this big house in Gotham City, and there’s heaps of room for someone to stay, even with Tim living there and Barbara dropping in from time to time” Y/n didn’t recognise any of the names he dropped, but things were starting to click in her mind. “I’m Dick Grayson by the way” and that was when it all came together in her mind.

“You’re Bruce Wayne's son!” The girl stopped walking, eyes wide in surprise. She wasn’t sure how she didn’t see it before, the man looked just like the pictures of Bruce and his kids that she had seen on the news online. He was usually pictured with Bruce, and a shorter boy with dark hair. Seeing her reaction to it, Dick took a breath and rolled his eyes. As if he had to deal with such reactions on the daily - which was probably the actual case.

“Yep, now come on, or do you want to stay here moping all day?” the boy grinned and walked out of the building. Y/n looked back at the officers, milling around the station, nothing interesting catching her eyes. Taking a breath and holding it for a moment, Y/n followed him out the door as she let said breath out.

The car park was fairly empty, considering how early in the morning it was, and that most people had just walked there to avoid traffic considering the station was central in the city of Bludhaven. Dick lead her towards a car parked on the far side. Y/n wasn’t an expert on cars, but she could tell that this was expensive - far more then she could afford - and certainly in the price range of a billionaires son.

“Can I ask where we are going?” Y/n questioned when he opened the door for her. He nodded, closing the door behind her and walking around to the drivers side of the vehicle. Closing his own door and pushing the keys into the ignition, he replied.

“I called Bruce, as I said, he’s finalising some paperwork to foster you - so we are heading to the manor in Gotham! Not too long of a drive”. Y/n stared at the dashboard in front of her with wide eyes, processing what was happening. A few hours before, she was sobbing and venting everything to some random boy on the pier, and now she was moving in with a billionaire. It was a startling change, the suddenness of it started crashing down on her. “Do you have anything you want to pick up from your old place?” Dick asked, turning the wheel to get them out onto the road, following the signs towards Gotham City.

“No” was her simple reply, tucking up her legs, Y/n positioned herself to look out the window, watching the city flash by, a swirl of bright lights and dark corners and alleys.

***

“Are you sure you’re ready to work with everyone?” Dick asked, tapping on the zeta panel, his stance was casual enough, but his eyes kept glancing towards Y/n checking up on her to make sure she was alright. Something he’d been doing since she’d moved into Wayne manor all those months ago. Y/n herself however felt nervousness curling in the base of her stomach, clutching at her chest and making her feel a little sick. Not like she was going to throw up, but it certainly wasn’t helping to steady her nerves. The girl looked towards him when he spoke, shaking her head.

“I’ll be fine Dick, I already know most of the Team anyways, i’ve known Kaldur longer then i’ve known you” Dick shook his head with a small laugh leaving his lips. A beep emitted from the panel, and their location was locked in.

“Alright, first official team mission here we come then!”

“what are you going on about, you’ve been on missions before”

“that’s not what I- you know what, no, i’m not letting you have this win” he grinned, securing his mask and walking up to the platform, Y/n following him.

“sore loser?” she asked, matching his grin and standing beside her adopted brother.

“says you” was his quick reply before they were swallowed by the bright yellow light of the zeta tube. It was always strange to travel this way, stretched across a far distance only to be snapped back into place where they had set their destination. This mixed with the feeling of unease that already settled within her system made her clutch her stomach as they reappeared in the zeta entrance to the cave the mission room sprawling out in front of them, various heroes spread out, chatting amongst themselves as if there wasn’t a serious mission about to occur. Heads raised when her and her brothers names were announced by the computer, most turned back to their conversations, but one stayed up, looking towards them, and eventually walking in their direction. Y/n heard him before she saw him.

“Nightwing said you’d be joining us” Kaldur smiled as a greeting, “Are you alright? you look like you’re going to be sick” the smile turned to a neutral expression of concern, something that seemed to appear a lot when Y/n was around. He always had an eye out on her, to make sure she was alright, make sure she was feeling her best. Y/n smiled softly.

“I’m fine, just a lot of people that I haven’t met” she replied. When Y/n first encountered the Team, she had just started vigilante work with Nightwing, and was only introduced to Artemis, Wally and Zatanna, and reintroduced to Kaldur. It was awkward for a few weeks before the two fell into a comfortable friendship. Still confiding in each other with troubles and fears, but their relationship with each other was more stable then the random meetups on the pier. They became close, usually found together when they both had free time. Y/n could confidently say that he was one of her closest friends, alongside Nightwing and Zatanna.

His expression changed, from concern to understanding, the smile returning.

“you’ll be alright, its not a big mission, just some surveillance” his words helped her a little, the nerves calming down. He rested a hand on her shoulder as perhaps some kind of reassuring act, but it sent a strange feeling through her mind.

“yeah, alright” she swallowed, looking forwards, and hoping beyond hope that the burning feeling rising to her cheeks and ears was covered by her domino mask. Unfortunately, luck didn’t seem to be on her side at that moment.

“Y/n, are you . . . blushing?” Kaldur asked, drawing her attention back to him, instead of hyper fixating on making the blush fade.

“No” she replied, glad that her training with Nightwing and Batman left her with a good control over her voice and expressions - the blush was something she had little to no control over unfortunately. She continued however, the question throwing her into a defensive reply. “Its not your business anyways”. That made her cringe at her own words and guilt crawled in her. Kaldur seemed to let out a breath, dropping his hand from her shoulders and stepping back a little.Y/n frowned at the movement. Had she offended him? Was what she said - lying - wrong? Y/n looked at the ground, fiddling now with the corner of her suits belt, her hands moving with nervous energy. Nightwing announced the mission details, explaining what each squad would be doing. He would be keeping an eye on everything from the cave, but Y/n herself was on a lookout team with Kaldur and Zatanna. Once the group split up into the teams and started heading out, Zatanna approached Y/n, smiling.

“Where’s Kaldur? I assumed he’d be with you” she looked confused, around as if Kaldur would be hiding.

“I’m not sure, he left a little while ago” Y/n turned, and Kaldur was indeed gone from where he had been standing. Zatanna lit up when she spotted him by the Zeta Tube.

“There he is, come on Y/h/n” Zatanna walked towards him, the other female following quickly behind. They were silent when travelling to their location. Even Zatanna seemed to see there was some sort of strange tension between the two heroes, though not sure where it had sprouted from. As far as Zatanna understood, the two were close friends. After arriving at the location, Kaldur spoke to Zatanna quietly for a moment, the girl nodded and Kaldur walked towards Y/n, holding his hand out.

“take my hand, please?” he asked, making Y/n frown as she couldn’t decern the tone of voice he was using. So, she took his hand and he pulled her off to the side, out of the earshot of Zatanna, who took over the job of keeping an eye out for what they were looking for.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, sitting her down on the ground and sitting across from her.

“Always” Y/n replied, quicker then she would have liked. Kaldur nodded.

“Then why don’t you tell me whats wrong? You’ve been cold lately, colder then usual, and I want to make sure you are alright, and if there is anything that I can do to help you” Y/n looked down, scratching her arm nervously. She mustn’t have been as subtle as she would have liked then. Kaldur sat up a little straighter. “I don’t mind you taking your time, but I would like to know if I can help you in any way”

“I like you” she replied. Cringing at her bluntness. He was definitely sitting up straighter now. “And I don’t know how to deal with it - and i’m sorry if I've been rude to you, or anything like that” she paused. “I’m just not sure what to do, and I don’t think i’m ready for anything serious, but i’d like to see where it goes and-” Y/n paused to take a breath. Thats when Kaldur interjected.

“Y/n, slow down a little bit please, you don’t need to explain anything to me” he smiled.

“I’m sorry”

“don’t be, you don’t need to apologise for experiencing hardships, you take your time and take steps at your own pace, and i’ll be right there beside you when you need me” He got to his feet, offering his hand to help her up.

“Sorry- uh, thank you Kaldur” she smiled, and he returned the expression.

“If you guys are done? We’ve got some movement down there” Zatanna called to them from where she was set, watching over the empty cortyard.

“We should probably get back to work” Y/n laughed nervously.

“Probably” Kaldur replied, the two walking towards Zatanna.

Some relationships aren’t sudden. They require communication between both parties, settling on what best fits them. And Y/n? She just needed time. So Kaldur would wait until she was ready.

***

THIS TOOK 10000 YEARS . HERE YOU GO

onto DCACB chapter 3

requests are open! tag list : @silverdecepticon93 @izzieg3987 @starr60

#young justice #young justice oneshot #young justice x reader #young justice headcanons #Kaldur'ahm #kaldur x reader #kaldur #aqualad x reader #aqualad #batsis #the team #oneshot #nightwing #zatanna

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fantastiqueparfait · 5 years ago

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The Best Medicine

Fluff for White Day! Come get your fluff -- hot off the presses! As promised, a continuation of Fluff Prompt 26 (but you don’t need to have read that to follow along).

No warnings -- appropriate for general audiences.

Tagging: @dangerouspompadour, @umacaking, @lemonlushff, @clearwillow, @sarah-writes-stories, @disgruntledbeast, @superpixie42, @meggz0rz (I thiiiink this is everyone who wanted tags; yell at me if I missed you)

Kagome knew it was all about to come crashing down. If she was honest with herself, she’d known since yesterday when her throat started to get a bit scratchy. Daring to hope, she’d written it off as the result of lots of talking combined with mild dehydration.

And then she woke up with a full-blown sore throat and mild congestion.

She checked the time – 7:00 AM. She would need to meet Inuyasha in an hour to head to the airport and he would flip out if he knew she was sick. He’d always been protective of her, and it certainly intensified when they started dating a few weeks ago.

He just won’t know, then, Kagome decided as she rolled out of bed to dig up a decongestant pill from her medicine cabinet and prepare a saltwater solution for her throat.

There’s no way I’m going to let him make me miss this for anything.

Not that she was worried he would. She knew he would never fly off to Los Angeles, leaving her home alone and sick – he always made sure to check on her when she’d fallen ill in the past, and that was long before they got together. Years, even.

Anyway, the wedding wasn’t for another week – they were just flying in early to help Sango and Miroku set things up. It was the least they could do as the best man and maid of honor. She’d kick this measly cold in a few days and be healthy in time for the wedding.

She just didn’t need Inuyasha breathing down her neck about it. She’d take the medication and power through.

Easy.

~~~~~~~~~

Kagome started to drag as she stood in the security line -- why was the wait so long? Where did all these people come from? It was the middle of the morning on a Saturday!

Things got worse as she pulled her suitcase through the terminal, struggling to keep up with Inuyasha as they made their way to the gate. Fatigue was setting in way sooner than it should have and her heart wouldn’t stop racing.

You just need to sit for a few moments, Kagome decided as she slumped into a chair in the waiting area, closing her eyes for a moment.

“You okay there?”

Kagome jumped as she opened her eyes to find Inuyasha’s face maybe an inch from her own.

“Y-yep, fine. Just resting!”

Was she sweating now? Had the walk from security been that exhausting?

Oh no.

“Resting, huh? Well, I’m going to go get coffee. You just… keep resting,” came the reply as he patted her head, not-so-subtly taking a second to rest his hand on her forehead. He winced slightly, undoubtedly feeling the heat radiating from her.

He knows, oh god; he KNOWS. Just keep your shit together; you’ll sleep on the plane and it’ll be fine.

Then you can let the warm weather do its thing and you’ll be good in no time.

~~~~~~~~

Kagome did sleep on the plane – the whole three-hour flight, in fact, wrapped in a blanket and Inuyasha’s sweatshirt -- and woke up feeling better.

Not that Inuyasha would hear her protests that she was on the mend.

Carrying all of the luggage (and looking completely ridiculous but ignoring any offers to help), he ushered her through the airport to a coffee stand for tea and into the rental car in near-record time.

“Dinner is cancelled,” he stated as Kagome settled into the passenger seat, her tea in hand.

“What? No, I’m feeling better! I can meet Sango and Miroku!”

“And get them sick the week of their wedding? Nope. We’re going to the hotel and you’re getting in bed.”

“But… it’s pool weather…” Kagome wanted to cry. It had been so cold at home and the thought of sitting by a pool in March (in March!!!) was one of the only things keeping her sane at work these days.

“Okay, if you’re getting teary over that, you’re definitely sick. I’ve seen you get slapped by your own client and not even cry.”

Kagome frowned, recalling that day. She was defending a repeat offender who had apparent… issues with being represented by a woman, and he slapped her, completely unprompted, midway through his competency hearing.

Kagome remembered being too shocked to cry (though she had later that night, once she was home and the day’s events sank in). She also remembered Inuyasha launching himself across the courtroom to get to her as the bailiffs descended.

It was the week before she and Inuyasha had gone out for that (fateful) pizza dinner. It was also the day she started reconsidering her career choice.

I don’t want to think about job stuff now, Kagome thought, unable to stop a few tears from falling. This is so embarrassing – I’m so off my game right now!

“Ugh, fine,” Inuyasha conceded. “If your fever breaks tomorrow, you can sit next to the pool.”

Kagome beamed.

“For ten minutes.”

She slumped down in her seat as they pulled out of the lot.

~~~~~~~

“You need to dry your hair.”

Kagome wanted to cry again. The burst of energy she’d experienced after the flight was short-lived. She made it through a shower okay, but it had been a struggle to get her pajamas on. She was so tired and bed was so close.

So close.

“I don’t need to; I’m sure I’m not going anywhere tomorrow. I’ll just pull it up,” she whined, grabbing a hair tie from the counter.

“You’ll stay sick if you sit with wet hair all night. It’ll make you too cold. Bad for your immune system.”

“That’s not real. What are you, my grandmother?”

“You’re sick, so I’m choosing not to hold that against you. Come on,” Inuyasha replied, pulling the towel from Kagome’s head and tossing it on the bathroom floor. He scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the desk in the corner of the hotel room, setting her gently in the chair.

“Stay there,” he told her as he walked back to the bathroom.

Kagome rested her head on the table, using her arms as a pillow. He wasn’t gone long, but she began to drift off nonetheless.

She was startled by the sound of a hairdryer but found herself quickly steadied by a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t jump – you’ll fall out of the chair.”

Am I just that small, or is his hand really that big?

Kagome found it hilarious. It was probably the fever.

“I’m just going to get it dry enough so you can get in bed, okay?”

“Okay.”

She started to drift off again as Inuyasha dried her hair, his firm but gentle grasp keeping her upright. Kagome couldn’t say that she’d ever expected to see this side of him – she was so sure that he would be frazzled by her illness throwing off the pre-wedding week with Sango and Miroku, but here he was, he was caring for her so patiently.

And he always had, hadn’t he? That dinner a few weeks ago, that time in the courtroom, and so many moments before then…

He adores you. He is soul-crushingly, disgustingly in love with you.

The realization hit her like a ton of bricks, yet at the same time she was completely unable to process it. It just stayed there at the front of her mind as Inuyasha finished drying her hair and helped her into the bed. It remained as he propped her up on a couple of pillows and tucked her in before heading back to the bathroom.

Kagome started to drift again. She thought she heard him mention something about stepping out as he set a glass of water on the nightstand and gave her a kiss on the forehead, but she wasn’t really sure.

~~~~~~~

Kagome wasn’t sure how much time had passed. The last thing she remembered was being tucked in and vaguely hearing the room door close, and here she was now, waking up to the feeling of the bed shifting as someone sat down on the other side and gently shook her shoulder.

“Do you think you can eat?” Inuyasha asked as she opened her eyes, frowning when she shook her head no. “You haven’t eaten since breakfast,” he chided gently.

Kagome sat up and reached for the glass of water only to have her hand moved away.

“Wait,” Inuyasha murmured before shoving a thermometer in her mouth. “You can drink water in a minute.”

Kagome wrinkled her nose in displeasure but didn’t fight it, instead focusing on the warm hand stroking her hair.

He’s babying you.

She couldn’t say she minded that much. She snuggled up to him as much as she could, given that she was still tucked in and he was sitting atop the covers.

Inuyasha frowned slightly as the thermometer beeped and he read the result.

“102? No wonder you were struggling. I’m honestly impressed you hid it as long as you did. Do you think you can eat?”

“I’m not hungry.” Inuyasha frowned as Kagome shook her head.

“You need to eat. I picked up a pizza when I went out to get the thermometer,” he gestured to the desk where a small pizza box sat next to a plastic shopping bag.

“Pizza?” She wasn’t hungry, but she supposed she could try to eat a little to make him happy.

“Don’t get used to it. If we weren’t stuck in a hotel room, you’d be eating something actually good for you.”

Kagome wrinkled her nose and he tapped it teasingly in response.

“That said, I thought you might be willing to try to eat if it was something you liked… even if it isn’t all that healthy.”

Kagome still wasn’t sure. The thought of food wasn’t revolting to her; it just… wasn’t really motivating in any way.

“I’ll try to eat a slice,” she conceded. Inuyasha beamed as he got up to grab a box from the shopping bag as well as the pizza before sliding back onto the bed.

Kagome couldn’t help but smile at him as he put on a show of things to keep her spirits up. She liked this side of him – she knew she was perhaps one of only a few people would had ever seen it.

She wanted to protect it at all costs.

~~~~~~

“Come on, just a little more? You can’t go to bed having eaten a muffin and a half of a slice of pizza.”

“I had a coffee too,” Kagome grumbled.

“Black coffee has 0 calories. That doesn’t help your argument, counsel,” he took the remainder of the slice and held it toward her face. “Eat. I’ll feed you if I have to.”

Kagome sighed but made no effort to take the slice back.

“Fine, you leave me no choice then. Here comes the airplane, Ka-go-me.”

“Oh my god,” Kagome moaned.

It’s unfair! I can’t even fight back because my brain is all mush and my skin hurts.

“The airplane, Kagome! It’s circling the airport. The people are getting restless – they want to go home.” He held up the pizza to emphasize his point.

He’s mocking you, Kagome realized fuzzily. Still though, she didn’t feel attacked, just… aggressively cared for.

Still nice, even if it was excessively silly. And mushy. So mushy she was embarrassed.

“I’m an attorney. I don’t have to put up with being treated like this.” She grabbed the pizza from his hand and shoved half of it in her mouth, glaring at him as she chewed deliberately.

“I knew it.”

“What?” Kagome swallowed and took a bite of the remainder of the slice.

“I knew I could goad you into eating.”

“No you didn’t.”

“True, but the alternative was hand-feeding you -- which wouldn’t have been so bad either.”

“You need to stop talking to Miroku.”

Inuyasha blushed. Kagome squeezed his hand and tried to wink.

She thought she was successful, but she wasn’t sure.

~~~~~~~

Less than an hour later, Kagome found herself settled back into bed after a brief adventure to brush her teeth, snuggled up to Inuyasha’s shoulder.

“You should go to sleep,” he murmured.

“No, it’s only 8 PM. That’s too early.”

“You’re sick. There’s no such thing as ‘too early’.”

“I like this movie though,” Kagome countered sleepily.

“Fine,” Inuyasha replied, ruffling her hair. “We can watch.”

They stayed like that for another half hour, watching the movie silently as Kagome’s eyelids started to get heavier and heavier.

“Inuyasha?” She was barely awake by this point, but Kagome’s earlier realization just would not leave her alone.

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.”

He leaned down to press a kiss to the crown of her head.

“Go to sleep,” he muttered, his face still buried in her hair. Kagome could have sworn she felt him grin as she drifted off.

#inukag #inuyasha white day #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha au #fluff

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destiny-smasher · 5 years ago

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My personal 2020 GOTYs

1) Hades

This game, dudes. THIS GAME. A fraction of the budget, a fraction of the dev team size, reportedly HEALTHY development schedule and management...and imo it offers at least some of everything I want out of a single player video game. I have poured over 60 hours into this and I see myself putting in some more over time and ALL of the time I have spent has felt rewarding and edifying. Clever design, smart writing, organic voice acting, sharp gameplay, and all done at a fraction of the resources of these big budget, bloated games. You love to see it.

2) Final Fantasy 7 Remake (Part 1?)

I went into this year not caring much about this game at all. FF7 was a game I played as a teen, enjoyed, respected, and moved on from pretty easily. This Remake, so far, has done more than I could’ve expected in terms of actually REMAKING a game. It’s literally a new adaptation, and I as pleasantly surprised at just how hard it went. From realizing the world of Midgar into something so full of detail and plausibility, to reiterating and doubling down on its postmodern anti-corporation themes, to making Barret the character I loved the MOST somehow?? Combining everything I love about real-time RPG action with a tactical strategy element long missing from the genre, reimagining and fleshing out characters and concepts into something deeper and more meaningful...I’ve never considered myself a huge FF7 fan but this game was really something, and I absolutely cannot wait for more (and praying they do my girl Yuffie justice). I’ve been super skeptical of Nomura as a director given...the mess that has become Kingdom Hearts, but as it turns out, when he has others to reign things in, some surprisingly nuanced stuff for an anime game can come out of it. It has its flaws, to be sure, but it’s still the most enjoyable experience I had with a big budget game this year.

3) The Last of Us Part 2

I feel conflicted over this one in particular - I feel Neil is not longer a director I respect the way I did back with the first game. I feel Naughty Dog is falling victim to all of the late capitalist issues plaguing big budget game dev. But I also love this game. It’s much more flawed than the first, but that’s mainly because it’s more ambitious and complicated. It’s THE most flawed game on this game, honestly, but overall as a game I am compelled to respect its writing, its gutsier decisions, its art direction, acting, presentation, etc. It’s an impressive game and the most technically impressive game I played all year if not all generation. Props where they’re due, but at the same time, I think this game was poorly directed and I love it in spite of issues with its production, rather than because of some strong vision. That’s the big Sony bucks, I suppose, matched with a dev team willing and apparently somehow able to fulfil what they want to create. I still get the impression there was a bit of ‘design by committee for a mainstream audience’ kind of shit going on - how could there not with something this big? - and as a result I think the game is a bit bloated. Shave off about 3-5 hours from a few spots and it’d be a more focused game, and maybe I’d feel more edified and satisfied rather than weirdly conflicted. Even so, a huge accomplishment and I hope to see more games tackle premises as ambitious as this down the road.

4) Bug Fables

This game technically launched last year but it debuted on console in 2020, and I didn’t play it until then. This is as close to a follow-up to old school Paper Mario as it gets, while simultaneously doing a lot to forge its own identity and even improve on the formula presented in the previous games. Its rough around the edges but that’s mainly because it’s an independent game, and it’s amazing just how well the dev team was able to reproduce the scope and details of this specific subgenre of RPG, all while continuously implementing new game design elements and multiple features that make it feel more modern in its direction. Fantastic stuff, I’m still not even finished with it because I’ve been taking my sweet time, though I intend to finally finish it this month, and I have to say, it’s quite a special game in my opinion.

5) Fall Guys: Ultimate Knockout

Absolute banger of a multiplayer game, really love the presentation, the concept, the overall execution, the way the team has been updating the game every month or so in response to feedback and implementing new content. So good to see the battle royale genre FINALLY pushed beyond just...arena shooting. Can’t wait to see where else this game can go over time.

6) Animal Crossing: New Horizons

Somehow this one slipped my mind when I first wrote this up, despite having poured well over 100 hours into it this year. I think part of it is that New Horizons did a lot of things I’ve wanted the series to do for so long, and yet is still far behind in terms of so many other things I wish they would do. Quality of life things prevent me from really re-investing into it, and yet despite that I have to admit it REALLY sucked me in for a solid few weeks and I continued to play off and on for months. It was the perfect game we collectively needed right when it came out and graphically I can’t think of how to really improve on that style. A really relaxing getaway I needed earlier this year, though like with previous AC games, I don’t find myself going back to it as much as I’d think I would.

7) Going Under

A surprise hit for me, this rogue-like swooped in from ‘heh that looks amusing’ to ‘oh wow this is legit just a great game.’ Its weird visuals, funky 3D gameplay, and surprisingly sharp storytelling make for a rogue-like unlike any other and one totally near the top for me.

8) Marvel’s Spider-Man: Miles Morales

Squeezed this in just this past week or so, and this one also satisfied me greatly. I wish we’d see more big budget open-world games like this -- laser focused, not wasting any time, and not being repetitious aside for completionists. So cool to see another team’s take on Miles after how much I fell for Into the Spider-verse, and very glad the team both homages that movie while subverting some expectations fans of the film might have, all while continuing to adapt Insomniac’s take on Spider-Man from a couple years ago.

9) Demon’s Souls (Remake)

As a big fan of FromSoft who never got too far into this one originally, it’s been great to visit it as if it’s a new Souls game with an alternate art style. And a very clean art style it has. This was a good pick to be remastered because many, even FromSoft fans like myself, missed out on it, and it feels unique from its predecessors while still showing a solid foundation they’d go on to build from.

10) Crash Bandicoot 4

An amazingly well done follow-up to the original trilogy, this game GETS what makes old school Crash games good, and it improves upon things in a number of ways, from making Coco the alternate hero, bringing back old faces in new lights, going ham with the visuals both in raw art and unique filters when replaying stages, and giving incentive for completion with so many great costumes. Well done, great old school platforming with modern design sensibilities.

Honorable Mentions:

CrossCode

This also technically launched before 2020 but I didn’t play it until this year, and I don’t think it hit consoles until this year. I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect going in, just remembering that I had enjoyed the demo well enough. This game delivers in most ways you could want from an indie game, with an expansive world of sidequests and RPG growth, a flexible combat system that can be nailbiting and engaging, and old-school dungeon designs with lots of environmental and elemental puzzles that really ask a lot of you. All of this capped with a surprisingly great narrative with characters I grew to love, including a much needed protagonist with a unique identity unlike any in games that I’ve played, as well as extra bits of detail and production values invested at JUST the right moments where the story needs it the most. It feels a bit tedious at times and part of me wishes more of the sidequest content involved direct interactions with the named, recurring characters, but it’s still one of the most impressive and well-done indie games I’ve ever played.

Katana ZERO

Razor-sharp game design, this one. It’s a brief but intensely focused experience that feels like the video game equivalent of a slick, experimental indie film. Could do with some more replayablity for those who want it but what’s here is just damn good and I gobbled this game down like a fantastic, hand-cooked meal at an atmospheric dive bar barely anyone knows about.

Necrobarista

Haven’t quite finished it yet but this is definitely one of the best visual novels I’ve ever experienced just due to how hard it goes on presentation and pushing for a more cinematic and thoughtful vibe than any other VN I’ve ever experienced. The characters and writing feel ripped out of an early 2000′s webcomic, for better and for worse, but all the same, it’s some fantastic stuff and it’s so refreshing to see a game set in Australia tackling a well-worn genre by giving it a new spin.

Slay the Spire

Another personal pick since this released in 2019, and I’m not quite sure which consoles it hit or when, but I didn’t get into it until early this year, and was totally hooked. Fantastically addictive, probably the most well-design deck-building rogue-like I’ve seen, certainly one of my favorite deck-building games in general. Apparently I’ve sunk 50 hours into it this year, more than most on this list, and I wouldn’t be surprised if that number spikes up again at some point.

#personal #GOTY #long post

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my-name-is-apollo · 6 years ago

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Okay! I finished reading the tyrants tomb and over all! I liked it a lot! Of course there are inconsistencies, some mistakes on Rick's side, and of course things that I didn't like because I'm a mythology fan, but whatever, the story kept me going and I finished the whole book in a day (which I usually don't). So! Here are my thoughts, in no particular order:

- My queen Reyna was SLAYING! Literally y'all! I've never loved her more!

- All ships please step aside, the only true ship we need is Apollo x Arrow of Dodona

- seriously though can we appreciate how encouraging the arrow was?

- ugh Ugly Sobbing at Jason's funeral! UGH!!

- again. JAASOOOONNNN!!! 😭😭😭😭😭

- Oh god Apollo go ahead and adopt Frank already!

- When Frank said he can't imagine a world without Apollo in it! My heart made a somersault and exploded into dust!

- I mean lets be honest, literally all the Apollo Frank interactions were good & wholesome

- LAVINIA! I love her! aksjekwkw! Lesbian! Yes!

- Meg and Apollo! MEG AND APOLLO! Meg saying she doesn't wanna lose Apollo too! Apollo saying she was like his own lil sister! 😭 I can't! So pure!

- When Apollo said "Come here...please" had Meg fell into his arms 😍😭💕💞💖💓💕💓

- OH ARTEMIS FINALLY FUCKIN CAME! But why you leave arty, not fair :/

- Apollo saying his favorite physician is Asclepius! You can really feel the love and pride he has for his son!

- Grandpa Apollo 😂

- Chiron, I want your playlist rn-

- I was irritated with Venus. Is it just me or the way she humiliated Apollo in front of everyone even though he'd done nothing was suuuper annoying? (I mean maybe she meant good, but still, ugh)

- Why DID DAKOTA DIE??? 😭 he was my favorite minor character!!

- I was sad to see Peaches weak! He gets better, hopefully!

- I'm really glad Apollo said that even as a god he didn't like issuing prophecies he didn't even want to hear for the sake humans. It really gives insight on why Apollo neglected oracles in the first place. Boi was just! so! tired!

- yo Apollo's monologue about his love life had me fucked up, I was so sad when he asked himself if he had ever kept his loved ones safe.

- coming to know about Apollo's past problematic actions had me like, yeeeah boooiii, here we goooo

- Oooohhh Apollo being called out for what he did to Koronis 👀 that was some good shit. But I hope that, while remembering what a dick Apollo had been to her, the fandom will also remember that Artemis was also fucked up in this case.

- (also I don't think Apollo knew Koronis was pregnant? still, definitely shouldn't have gone that far)

- I didn't like how Apollo called it a "curse" on the sibyl. It wasn't. She asked for immortality and he gave her. When she refused him, Apollo didn't curse her, he just pointed out how she'd grew old as usual like a human, and hence suffer from old age. (But yeah his well intentioned gift itself became a curse to her so-)

- Idk why Harpocrates was ever connected to Apollo, it made no much sense from mythological point, but whatever.

- Apollo being a bully seemed odd to me but then I remembered the gods bullied each other all the time (Apollo even mentioned that they were ready to kill each other)

- Harpocrates x sibyl though?? Idk I laughed way too hard but the way they ended was really beautiful

- WHEN REYNA LAUGHED! Omg I was experiencing second hand embarrassment for Lester but gosh I'm so glad it turned out the way it did. I really liked that scene!

- I don't know how to feel about Reyna joining the hunters, but I'm not complaining.

- I LITERALLY CRIED WHEN I FOUND OUT FRANK IN FACT ALIVE AKSJEKSJJSSJ my baby boy! He is alright after all!

- The whole healing Reyna's heart kinda fell flat to me... I mean it was good, but I guess I had higher expectations (not ApolloxReyna, ofc, but like,,,,something else,,,idk what)

- Apollo still thirsting over Commodus *sigh* boy get your head back 😂

- Ella and Tyson are so precious please treasure them y'all

- omg Apollo fuckin KILLED Commodus with his voice!!!! Omfg-

- APOLLO GOT HIS BOW BACK!

- Terminus adopted Julia!!!

- DON! 😭 why???!!!

- I totally agree with Apollo on Jason's death being so fuckin unfair! 😭 Especially when Leo and Frank could escape from theirs!!

- Hazel was SO BADASS I can't even-

- Thalia was so mature in handling the situation. Lmao Apollo haters wanted her to tear him down but guess what losers? she's not a kid like y'all

- hey how the fuck was Lester even awake till the end? With that zombie wound, the car crash, his stamina gone, and burnt wounds? Not to mention the times he straight up stumbled into a tree or fell down.

- it's sooooo strange that Apollo doesn't have Roman kids. On the whole, it seems like Apollo doesn't do well in Roman pantheon, even his sister is distant from him there. Since he is the same in Greek and Roman form, I think he actually witnessed all the time how much the gods change, even the ones close to him (Artemis). It's like, he is constant while everyone else is changing. That's kinda sad. I wonder if the Roman side of his family gives him a harder time?

- I know I was big on "no romance for mc in this series" but you know, I'd like to see Apollo being happy in love for once. At least at the end of series. Ugh. Idk Rick, bring Hyacinthus back to life or give us Litpollo or smth please. (I'm p sure I'll change my mind about this later lmao)

________

'kay, from here I'll be speaking outside the series, so if you don't wanna read a mythology nerd ranting about how badly Rick Riordan needs to have a mythology lesson on Apollo, skip this part! (I completely acknowledge RR's right to interpret the gods as he wants, but I'm still bitter™)

- I really dislike the way Rick writes Apollo! He's the god of knowledge ffs! He'd know a lot of things! He is Lord of wolves! He should know the language of wolves! Like it's so fuckin ridiculous when he says I'm the god of prophecy doesn't mean I understand all prophecies. Though you can give the excuse of his limited mortal memory, it still seems like Apollo's smarter side is being downplayed a lot by RR.

- He's also one of the bravest gods, so when Rick writes him being scared / having memories when he was scared even as a god is 😒

- The whole "oh I never regretted this until now", "I never thought of this until now" seems very exaggerated and honestly, very fake. Apollo has lived for so many years. He has been human before. He spends a lot of time on earth to not know certain things he didn't know in this book (and series). He is one the friendlier gods, you'll find so many cases where he helps mortals in need. He is the protector of children and youth too! So like this entire "I came 10 years after a mortal prayed to me", "I didn't think demigod lives actually valued", "I didn't know humans felt like this" sounded like F grade bullshit to me. It is gods like Apollo, Hermes and Dionysus who would actually know mortals better than any other gods.

- just basically the trend of Rick Riordan writing off gods as ignorant being who never cared for anyone irks me a lot.

#the tyrants tomb #tyrants tomb #the tyrants tomb spoilers #tyrants tomb spoilers #toa spoilers #trials of apollo spoilers #meg mccaffrey #lester papadopoulos #jason grace #frank zhang #hazel levesque #reyna #apollo #pjo #toa #hoo #thalia grace

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starlightinhumanform · 5 years ago

Text

Breaking Point

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Ships: Loceit (could be interpreted as platonic or romantic)

Summary: Sometimes being a light side just does’t cut it. After a particularly aggravating argument, Logan begins… changing. (Logan centric angst fic with guest appearances of most of the others,,,, but mostly Janus).

Warnings: Negativity/Coldness/Miscommunications Throughout, Mild Language Throughout, Some Mentions of Injury/Illness Used as Metaphors

Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

A/N: This was written for the wonderful Spring Fling event here on tumblr! It was so much fun and I can’t wait to participate again! I know I’ve been very inactive lately and I’m very sorry for that (mental illness can be a real kicker lmao), but I’m trying to get back into my groove of writing and posting!! Stay safe and healthy. I love you all 🖤✨

Ao3 Link Fic Masterpost Fic Request Info

Logan was not a stranger to emotion. Despite popular belief, he experienced them like any other side. The difference was his ability to tamp them down, keep them from clouding his logic; it was an ability he prided himself on. Sure, sometimes his anger got the better of him when the others were being far too ridiculous. But for the most part, he was clean, calculated, cool.

Right now, though, his head was pounding. Virgil was shouting hoarsely and Roman was yelling back even louder. Patton just whimpered, trying to get the two to stop fighting but failing miserably as he flinched back from both of their raised voices. Thomas stood in the middle of it all with glazed eyes.

And Logan, what was he doing? Standing to the side. Being completely useless, it seemed. He pressed his fingers against his temples and tried to massage away the pain. His efforts once again failed and he turned his attention back to the situation.

Thomas had to choose whether or not to go to a Broadway audition and wanted to consult with his sides to get their opinions on the opportunity. Unfortunately his plan had backfired and now the choice was even less clear. It was a debate, they were trying to make a decision— Logan should have been leading the entire thing. Instead, he had been shoved to the side as Virgil and Roman turned the discussion into a fight.

“It’s too big of a risk! If Thomas fails at this, he may never audition again. Think about how that would hurt Patton. Think about how it could ruin his whole career,” Virgil hissed.

Roman answered too clearly, over-pronouncing his words as he spat them out like they tasted as bitter as his tone, “You’re suffocating me. You’re keeping Thomas from achieving his dreams. Your worries are simply too much. If anything is going to ruin his career, it’s going to be you.”

Virgil raised his eyebrows and gave a cold laugh, “Oh, I’m sorry? I thought we agreed it was my job to protect Thomas? So why don’t you just back the hell up and remember your place.”

“My place? And where exactly would that be?”

“Safety comes before your stupid fantasies.”

“This isn’t even about safety! This is about you being a coward!”

The room went quiet. Quiet, not calm. It was like the moments of silent after a lightning strike when everyone holds their breath, waiting for the roar of thunder. Logan needed to interject before things got even worse and this was his best opportunity to do so.

He cleared his throat, “If you two would like to pause this illogical arguing for a moment, I would like to make a few points.”

All eyes turned on him. He was nearly taken aback by the amount of anger in both Virgil and Roman’s gazes, suddenly turned on him instead of each other. It burned against his skin as they both glared at him. Patton tried to give him a smile but it was far weaker than usual. Thomas’ eyes were the worst— dazed from all the yelling, confused and torn apart from his aspects disagreeing so violently. Logan felt like he had failed; failed them all, but especially Thomas. It was his job to keep order, to weigh the pros and cons, to unravel problems, to make things clear. And when the others needed him the most, he had let it all fall into the hands’ of chaos.

“I just think there are better ways to make this decision. You two have been yelling each other for over half an hour and it’s gotten nowhere.”

“Yeah, because he refuses to admit that he’s wrong!” Roman interrupted.

Logan gritted his teeth, “Please try to restrain yourself from talking over me.”

Virgil was the one to break in this time, “Logan, maybe this isn’t the type of argument that you belong in.”

“Not the- not the type of argument I belong in?” Logan could almost laugh, “This is the exact sort of discussion I need to be included in because otherwise we end up in a mess like this!”

“Logan,” Virgil growled, “I don’t think you’re understanding what’s going on here. This is an issue me and Roman need to settle. No matter what that means.”

“No matter what that means?? Are you even listening to yourself? That’s the sort of talking that causes disaster!”

“No, Virgil’s right about one thing,” Logan turned his attention to Roman as he was interrupted once again, “This is between the two of us. Don’t get yourself involved.”

“If I don’t get involved, you’re going to tear Thomas apart trying to get your ways!” Logan could feel his temper slipping away from him just as his control of the situation was slipping through his fingers. These idiots had their heads so far up their asses, they couldn’t even see the damage they were doing to everyone else.

“Logan!” Roman snapped his name to get his attention, “Maybe you should just go.”

He scoffed, “Go? You really think you can solve this problem by yourselves?”

“Go.”

Logan glanced at the stairwell where Virgil had snarled a singular syllable at him, “Excuse me?”

“He said to go,” Roman was glaring at him, “And, in this case, I agree with him.”

Logan’s mouth fell open. It was ridiculous. They needed him, but apparently they just couldn’t see it. They needed him, but they didn’t want him. He shook his head. A laugh was rising up his throat but he couldn’t figure out what was so funny.

He looked around the room, “You really want me to go? Fine then.”

Thomas and Patton both seemed distressed but said nothing to stop him. Roman and Virgil didn’t have to say anything; the anger boiling behind both of their stares communicated plenty.

And that was all he needed. Logan sunk out of the room without another word.

He reached the mindspace in a matter of seconds, appearing in the dining room. The laugh that had been trapped in his throat bubbled over and crashed to the floor as it morphed into a cry. He clapped a hand over his mouth as giggles mixed with sobs and spilled past his fingers, filling the quiet room with hiccuping whimpers. It was just too much for him to wrap his mind around. His beautiful, perfect mind. And somehow they had managed to reduced it to this— a wreck, an absolute mess, emotions crashing into each other and spilling over onto his face so he could do little more than grip the back of a chair until his knuckles were white and he couldn’t even see through the ocean in his eyes.

His skin felt hot as the tears rolled over his cheekbones and directly onto the floor. He was not a stranger to emotion, but this— whatever the hell “this” was— felt brand new. New like new boots, the type that leave your skin blistered and red and raw. His body was shaking and his stomach turned and he was sure that if he sobbed any harder he might start retching.

He felt so vulnerable; he was a scar that had been scratched at so many times it had finally ripped open and started bleeding again.

Logan was angry. Angrier than he had been in years. He just wanted to help. Why couldn’t they see that? Why wouldn’t they let him help? But more importantly, why couldn’t he help? Was he useless? Was he a tool that had no purpose, tossed aside by the others like a spare screw that didn’t fit anywhere?

“Logan?”

His head shot up, back straightening and squaring up in under a second. Janus was standing on the other side of the room like he had frozen in the middle of his movements. His eyebrows were woven together in what seemed like concern.

“You don’t look ok?” His expression was a painting of confusion.

Logan rubbed at his eyes from beneath his glasses, “I- I assure you, I’m perfectly fine.”

Janus just laughed, silky and self-satisfied as always but maybe a little softer than usual, “Lying’s kind of my thing, remember, Logan? You look... great.”

Logan let his head hang, not even trying to keep up appearances now that Janus had called him out. He glared at the other side from over the rim of his glasses, “Can I help you? Or are you done ridiculing me?”

Janus took a couple hesitant steps forward, tilting his head to the side like he was absolutely fascinated by Logan. He began speaking slowly but it was obvious from his intense stare that his focus was very far from the words leaving his mouth, “Ridiculing? Oh dear, no, that was not my intention. What’s the matter? Something must be incredibly wrong to have put you in such a state.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Logan snarled, “Am I not allowed to act as irrationally as the rest of you? Is sanity expected only of me? Maybe I’m tired of it! Do you understand how exhausting it is to carry the weight of responsibility with no one to lend a hand? In fact you all fight against me, pushing me downhill and spiraling Thomas further and further away from stability. Well, maybe I’m tired of it. Maybe I’m so damn tired of yelling until my voice is hoarse, just because I’m trying to look out for the well being of everyone else only to be discounted because ‘it’s not fun’ or because I couldn’t possibly understand, being the cold and unfeeling robot that I am. I am sick of it!”

“Logan, I’m going to need you to calm down.”

Logan blinked back into the present.

Janus was standing in front of him, hands raised to hold Logan’s face. Logan was startled to find his cheeks damp once again with tears beneath Janus’ quivering fingers. Janus was staring at him with a combination of fascination and terror.

“Logan do you know what’s happening?” Janus’ voice shook nearly as hard as his hands as he drew them back to his chest.

Logan could feel his forehead crease as he stared back at Janus, “What do you mean?”

Janus laughed but it had lost its honeyed qualities; just a humorless, sharp exhale, “Look around you.”

He raised his head at Janus’ cue, taking in the room around him. A glass that had left on the table was now broken into pieces. The glass of picture frames hung on the wall now lay shattered on the carpet. Items scattered on shelfs throughout had tipped over or rolled onto the floor.

Logan’s mouth fell open, “Did I— How— What— Did I do that?”

Janus nodded his head slowly like he wasn’t sure to believe it either, “The whole mindspace started shaking.”

“What does this mean?” Logan reached out slowly to pick up a shard of the glass. His hands trembled as he studied the piece, turning it between his fingers as if he could find an answer in its angular edges.

“Well, sometimes when a dark side is distressed enough, they can negatively affect the environment around them,” Janus had been speaking in slow, almost broken segments as if he had been constructing the sentence word by word, choosing carefully and cautiously. Now, though, he started rushing his words out like they burned his tongue, “You know, like the screaming thing Remus does or when Virgil makes the whole room go dark, that sort of thing.”

“Wait. Janus, you said ‘dark side.’ And don’t try to lie to me, I have a perfect memory and I know what you said.”

Janus winced and tried for a smile, “Yes, well...”

Logan arched one of his eyebrows, “You are aware that I’m not a dark side, yes? And unlike Virgil, I was never once in my existence a dark side.”

“No, no I know that,” He clasped and unclasped his hands together serval times as if the awkward movement could fill the even more awkward silence, “I’m implying that you might be becoming one?”

“Oh, please,” Logan scoffed, “Is that even possible? And how have I even done anything to deserve the title of being ‘dark’?”

Janus mirrored Logan’s raised brow, “Oh, and I’ve earned such a label? The point is, you’re starting to act more and more like us. Whether or not any of us are actually deserve that title is a debate for another day.”

Logan studied the face in front of him. Janus was a master of deception— of course he was— but in this moment he seemed completely open, completely genuine. And if Janus was being honest... well, that could be a bad thing.

He opened his mouth to speak but the words were slow to come to his tongue, “So, assuming this hypothetical you’ve proposed, how could this happen? How is such a shift even a possibility?”

Janus gave another humorless laugh but at least he didn’t sound terrified this time, “I really don’t have the answer to that one.”

Logan stared done at the floor, eyes roaming the pattern of the carpet but his mind incredibly far away. Was that possible? Could a side go “bad”? More importantly, could he go bad? Was he bad? Had he failed Thomas so much, hurt the others so much, provided so little use yet so much ill-will that—

“If anyone has the answers, it’s going to be you.”

Janus’ voice broke through Logan’s thoughts, “What?”

Janus pulled out two chairs from underneath the table and faced them towards each other. He took a seat in one and pointed at the other, “Something is obviously wrong. Tell me what’s going on.”

Logan stumbled into the chair, stunned by the commanding note in Janus’ tone. He sat down and stared blankly across at the other side, unsure of where to even start. He pursed his lips for a moment, “Why does it matter?”

“Because you knocked my favourite mug off of its shelf and I need answers,” Janus rolled his eyes, “If what I think is happening is happening, that’s a huge change that could affect everyone— including Thomas. Now stop avoiding the question.”

Logan glared down at his hands gripping each other in his lap. His vocabulary had abandoned him. This simply was not a familiar situation to him. He shared facts, advice, outside information; but feelings, his subjective truth? That stayed locked away.

“Let’s start with why you’re crying, ok?” Janus’ voice was gentle but his question was still very clearly an instruction.

Logan jerked his head up as he realized there were tears running down his face. Again. He cursed under his breath as he rubbed them away, “I don’t even know. I guess I’m just not used to doing this, this sharing of emotions.”

Janus nodded, “And why aren’t you with the others? It sounds like there’s quite an argument going on up there. You usually jump right into the fray.”

“I don’t know,” Logan pinched his nose and tried to ignore the burning ache in his chest. It was strange, the emotion so raw and intense that it had the effect of a physical wound. It was like the tissue of his rib cage was being torn apart, “I tried to join in, to try and add at least a little reason to the discussion... but they refused to listen.”

“Logan, have they ever listened you about anything?”

He let his head fall back down to avoid looking at Janus, “Not really. I can’t help but think I’ve failed Thomas.”

Janus placed his hand on Logan’s shoulder, “No, no that’s not what I meant. I just wanted to know if the others took your advice.”

Logan raised his gaze to make eye contact with Janus, “Well, sometimes.”

“But do you have to work to get them to even hear you?”

Logan laughed, “Oh, yeah.”

“And to they ever listen to you about you? Do they even ask?”

“Why would they?” Logan paused, “Wait, should they?”

Janus stared at him like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, pity swimming in his eyes, “I think I see the problem. I think your negative interactions with the others is causing you to turn into a dark side. It’s almost like a defense mechanism or something.”

“But my interactions with the others haven’t been negative. They can be frustrating, yes, but they’re the closest things to friends that I would ever have. At the very least, they are my companions. Right?”

Janus grimaced, “From what you were saying about ten seconds ago, their treatment of you hasn’t exactly been positive. I’m not say they’re not your friends, just that... maybe they don’t act like it as much as they should. They don’t seem value you or what you have to say.”

“But I need them to,” Logan spoke slowly, deep in thought, “How else am I supposed to help Thomas, to fulfill my purpose?”

Janus said nothing and Logan continued he train of thought, “I guess it makes perfect sense for me to do what’s necessary to be heard. I can’t protect Thomas from their violent irrationality if they don’t listen to me. I guess this is just the natural course of action.”

Janus seemed hesitant as he nodded, “I mean... yes, I guess so.”

“Besides—,” Logan shrugged, “—maybe being a dark side isn’t so bad.”

“What do you mean?”

Logan smirked, “Sometimes you need to raise your voice to be heard; if I need to scare the others a little to cut through the chaos, then so be it. And it seems that I’ve been given the perfect tool to do so.”

“Logan, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea... ”

But Janus’ voice was already fading away as Logan rose back into the argument. He had been ignored for the last time. Never again would he be brushed to the side for being the cold outcast. They would listen to him— whether they liked it or not.

Logan was not a stranger to emotion. And right now, he was smiling. Grinning, in fact— ear to ear, power flickering in his eyes. He was the voice of reason and no longer would he be an accessory to their foolishness.

If you want to be added to my Sanders Sides fic taglist, just send an ask or reply to this post :p

~ @phan-fander @abi-beehive @fandomfan315 @cas-is-a-hunter @reggieleigh07 @endless-rain-of-words @vicdehart @im-actually-ok @softnic @catolicabuena @icequeenoriginal ~

#loceit #platonic loceit #romantic loceit #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides angst #ts janus #janus sanders #ts logan #logan sanders #logan angst #logan sanders angst #dark side!logan #logan x deceit #starlight writes

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sloanecerity · 5 years ago

Text

Jyoumi Challenge Day #17: Parting

I guess writing so many light and easy oneshots meant there had to be a painful one was around the corner! I imagine this stretch would be one of the hardest for them. I hope y’all enjoy it!

---

“Are you sure you have to leave tomorrow?”

The sudden words from Mimi brought Joe from his reverie, causing him to look at his girlfriend, who had been nestled into him for the past hour as the two lay in his bed in the Tachikawa’s guest room.

The young man continued to stay silent for a few moment, a frown slowly forming on his face, before a sigh fell from his lips.

“…Yeah.”

His voice was quiet, almost defeated, and Joe truly wished he didn’t have to say the words he just did.

“You can’t stay for a few more days even? Even just one more?” Mimi asked, voice filled with hope, though she knew just as well as Joe that it wouldn’t be possible.

“Trust me, if I could stay here longer, I would, Meems,” he sighed, letting his head rest on the top of hers. “But university starts soon, and I can’t miss the first week.”

“They can’t be that mad, right? If you emailed your professors, they’d understand, right?”

“I don’t think so.”

Silence washed over them again, Joe not knowing what to say to try and offer Mimi any comfort, and Mimi having too many things she wanted to say knowing full well it would just make them both sad.

Being able to come all the way out to New York after graduating was something that mostly lined up through luck, and the two of them relished each and everyday they had together. Now that his graduation trip was coming to an end, though, and they’d be so far apart for a whole year that it was hard to process. Joe would be busy with school and Mimi would be working as hard as she could to get into the University of Tokyo.

“I’m really proud of you, though, you know that, right?” she asked, and he nodded.

“Of course I know,” he smiled softly. Mimi turned into him, letting a hand rest on his chest, looking up at him as she lay her head against him. Joe leaned down to place a soft kiss on the top of her head, before relaxing back against the bed’s headboard.

“And, hey, just think, at least I won’t be going to cram school as much anymore?” he asked, offering an awkward laugh, knowing of course that he would be spending most of his free time studying, in the library, or going to various tutoring sessions.

“But you’re going to be in school for the next, like, ten years,” she sighed.

“…Yeah…” he trailed off. Not to mention all of the work he’d have to do once he actually became a doctor. “But the actual length of time it takes to become a doctor isn’t nearly as long as it is in other places. That’s a good thing, right?” he asked, hoping to cheer her up even a bit. It wasn’t ideal spending the last day they had together moping in bed, but the sudden mood crashes they were experiencing left them wanting to do nothing more than exactly that.

“That’s good… And, I mean, this is just practice for once we have our amazing careers. You being a doctor saving lives daily and me with my cooking show,” she said, smiling softly at the very thought of the future between them that was just around the corner.

“And we’ve already had to deal with distance for years now…”

That wasn’t easy, either, but they had done their best. They kept going, stronger and stronger with each day that passed while they were separated by half the globe, and it was just one more year…

One more year that would drag on longer than all of the others combined.

“And there’s Digital Gates, too…” she added.

Plenty of options, and honestly, they were luckier than most. Phone calls, video chats, emails, texts, the ability to meet up in a world inside the computer or travel from one point in the world to the other with no issue.

Maybe they shouldn’t have complained too much.

But at the same time, neither of them thought they were exactly in the wrong for it.

“Once you’re back in Japan, we can look at getting a place together?” he suggested, which caused Mimi’s eyes to light up, just about sparkling with happiness at the very idea.

“Oh, that would be amazing. A little place just for us. Think how cute we could make it! Our own little space far away from everything else,” she said.

These plans were amazing, but they also reminded Joe that soon he’d be on a plane back home, spending a whole day thinking about Mimi.

“Its going to be so weird, waking up and knowing you aren’t across the hall. That I can’t just drag you out of bed or we can’t cuddle up under a blanket and watch a movie…” she sighed.

“Just think about all the chances you had to drag me around New York, though. Central Park, all those museums and little pizza places… we have enough pictures to make all our friends sick of how coupley we are,” Joe laughed, smiling at the memories of each and every little thing the two of them did this past week. “Trust me, they’re going to be sick of all the pictures I put in the group chat before you even get back home,” she teased, leaving Joe blushing softly.

“I’ll be able to enjoy it when I land, though.”

“That’s the best part,” she said, wrinkling her nose playfully as she looked up at him.

“What do you want to do for the rest of the night?” he asked finally, leaving Mimi recognizing that the two of them had been resting in bed for the past few hours.

“Besides cuddle in bed with you?” she asked, once again leaving Joe feeling awkward, goofy, and light.

“Y-Yeah,” he squeaked out, leaving his girlfriend grinning. He scratched the side of his head, taking a moment to compose himself before he sucked in a breath, “We could go out for dinner, or take a walk around the neighborhood… Honestly, we can do anything,” he shrugged, “I just want to do it with you.”

“That’s funny, because that’s my answer, too,” she smiled, wrapping an arm around his midsection.

“At this rate we’ll be stuck here all night.”

“You say that like its a bad thing,” she teased, sticking her tongue out at him playfully.

“W-Well obviously it isn’t…” he trailed off, before looking at her face, “Oh, you’re joking.”

She was really going to miss this. They both were.

“How about… night in? We get some food, relax, and just sit around? I don’t feel like… doing anything,” she said, pausing for a moment, “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever said that.”

Joe chuckled weakly, “No, it’s ok. To be honest, I’d rather just sit around with you.”

With plans in mind, they were quick to go out for the barest minimum amount of time to grab a pizza, before once again retreating back to the Tachikawa’s guest room to eat dinner. Both of her parents had opted to leave the two young adults to themselves as they ate pizza and cuddled up next to each other, remaining silent throughout the night, each knowing they would risk tearing up were they to talk about how Joe would be leaving soon.

That next morning, Mimi, Joe, and Mimi’s parents had made it to the airport for Joe’s early flight, something that Mimi had cursed about under her breath.

“It was good to see you, son,” Mimi’s father said kindly, offering a hand to shake, which Joe quickly took, bowing his head quickly.

“Good to see you, too, sir. Thank you again for letting me stay at your home for the week,” he said.

“We’re going to miss you. Hopefully you’ll have the chance to visit again soon,” her mother cooed sweetly, Joe nodding, smiling now.

“I hope so, too, ma’am. This was probably the best week of my life,” he said, looking to his girlfriend, who was now sniffling.

“We’ll let you two have a little bit of time alone. Don’t want your parents cramping on your style, sweetie,” her father laughed, “We’ll be just outside!”

The two watched her parents walk away, before Mimi immediately turned on her heel to look back at Joe, looking up at him with sad eyes.

“I love you,” she said simply. Seeing how close she was to crying left Joe tearing up, too.

“I love you, too. I was honest when I told your parents that this was the best week of my life,” he said.

“Mine too.”

Silence again, just the din of the busy airport and the people moving past them to sound out between the two of them, but still just a distant sound to the two of them, focused only on each other.

“A year… a year won’t be that long…” Joe said, trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince her.

“The worst part of New York really is gonna be the fact that you aren’t here,” she sighed, and Joe wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a hug. Mimi buried her face into his chest, unable to stop herself from crying. He tried to do his best to soothe her, stroking her hair and, though soon his body was shaking with sobs. And once he was sobbing, Mimi was too, gripping onto each other as if they’d be lost forever if they let go.

Eventually, though, Joe pulled away, leaving Mimi already missing his touch, even though he was still holding onto her shoulders.

“You have to leave now, don’t you?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah…” he sighed.

In a swift movement she pulled her phone from her pocket, turning into him. Joe instinctively wrapped an arm around her as she took a quick picture of the two of them, wasting no time in sending it to him.

“Just so you have more cute pictures of us to look at on the plane,” she smiled weakly.

“Thanks… it’ll be harder to miss you like that,” he said, offering a smile, as he reached for her hand, giving it a soft squeeze.

“I’ll talk to you as soon as the plane lands,” he promised.

“You better,” she teased, before moving in to give him one last quick kiss. “Be safe.”

“I will,” he said, giving her a quick kiss back. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

Neither wanted to say they’d miss each other, knowing that it would just make a difficult goodbye that much tougher, and as Joe walked to security, both thought about how they would talk to the other soon. Anything to ease the pain that came from leaving.

#jyoumi challenge #digimon #digimon adventure #jyoumi #joe kido #jyou kido #mimi tachikawa #kido jyou #tachikawa mimi

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ceescedasticity · 5 years ago

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more director’s commentary: Escher Ch. 9

paragrin said: Director’s commentary on the Asherah fight and/or subsequent discussion/awakening?

Let’s see...

I do not like writing fight scenes. Fight scenes are HARD. My biggest concern in this one was having them lose believably.

Her mother's Shadow wasted no time, but immediately blurred and distorted and dammit, they'd never been ambushed by a Palace ruler before—

"Get ready to defend!" Yusuke yelled to Hifumi. Dammit, she should have had him take the Snuff Soul after all—

"The floor!" Hifumi yelped.

Asherah is, per Wikipedia, strongly associated with trees in the Bible. That’s the main inspiration for the Shadow’s form. I can’t remember how I came up with the rootlets on the floor, but I may have wanted a reason to have everyone playing ‘the floor is lava’ BESIDES all the little jars of Greek fire.

From the safety of Prometheus, Futaba looked down. There were — tendrils, spreading across the floor, twining around the clutter. She didn't want to follow them back, but did anyway, to see them thicken and join into — roots.

"You shouldn't be here!"

Her mother's Shadow was a tree.

Or. An Ent. Except the Ents in the movies only acted like they had two arms and decorative branches, as opposed to all the branches acting like arms, which really made more sense even though it was harder to fight, and really most of the Shadows they'd fought had been more grotesque, this was nothing really—

Asherah, Prometheus informed her. Strengths and weaknesses currently unknown.

It still had her mother's face.

I think the body horror is getting to Futaba just a bit. She wouldn’t care, if it wasn’t her mother.

Below, both Yusuke and Hifumi had managed to get clear of the roots — Yusuke was standing on a plinth, Hifumi balancing on a stone lion-dog. Yusuke was adjusting one of his boots. The rootlets were waving up at them from the floor, but not achieving any elevation gains.

One thing I enjoyed writing was specifying what features of the ridiculously cluttered and clashingly-furnished room they were standing on while playing ‘the floor is rootlets’.

One of the higher branches trembled, then lowered, and shook, and then Yusuke and Hifumi were being hit with a volley of acorns that did gun damage. Not too bad, but… not negligible, either.

"No info on weaknesses yet, guys," she said anxiously. "Just… be careful?" She really didn't need to worry, it wasn't like anything they'd done to the Palace-ruling Shadows in monster form had hurt the people—

How DOES that work, anyway?

"Fox, try ice," Hifumi said. "I'm going to stick to my bow for now… getting in close enough for melee doesn't seem practical."

Futaba assessed the results. "Resists ranged weapons, but it's not doing nothing… ice is connecting, but it's not a weakness." She'd thought ice might do more damage to a tree… but the weakness was probably fire. Not that that did them any good. Damn it, and Mona had mentioned something about tools that did elemental damage, but Futaba didn't know anything more about them because Akira had never used any when she was around because he could just use whichever Persona was needed…

Damn Wild Cards...

A different branch reached down, and out, and hit Yusuke with a melee attack which he managed to counter. The branch recoiled.

"How did you get all the way up here?" Asherah demanded.

"We climbed a lot of ladders," Hifumi said, and tried wind.

What kind of a stupid question is that, there are ladders everywhere. How did you get IN, that’s a better question.

"Same as ice, neither a strength nor a weakness," Futaba reported.

Yusuke did more damage with a stronger spell. "I need the Snuff Soul to keep this up."

"Use it," Hifumi said. "I'd suggest running, but the exit…"

The exit was covered with a network of rootlets. Damn it.

Had to keep them from running away since they hadn’t technically calling-carded so the ‘one chance’ thing PROBABLY isn’t a issue. Not that they’re trying to steal the Treasure...

"Who sent—" Asherah broke off. "Children. You're children!"

"I'm not a child," Hifumi said indignantly.

(Kiddo, you’re in middle school.)

Researchers at the lab have had ‘teenagers get Personas easier’ for a while now, and they’re coming up with ideas to exploit it, and Wakaba has been doing everything she can to shut it down/head it off. The Metaverse isn’t safe, and she wouldn’t trust the people who’ve slithered onto the project with supervising children taste-testing cookies. Actual Wakaba doesn’t think that the conspiracy already has teenage Metaverse operatives, the Shadow just jumped to that conclusion immediately. Because it does want them!

"How dare they," Asherah said. Yet another branch came down, this one covered in flowers. "This isn't right."

If that wasn't a status effect in the making, Futaba didn't know what was. "Guys—"

The branch showered Yusuke in flowers, and— Sleep.

Of course he immediately toppled off the plinth onto a delicate sandalwood chest and crashed through to the floor, and that woke him right up. Not in time to completely avoid the rootlets, though.

I learned after writing that apparently Sleep works differently on different difficulty levels? ‘Normal’ is probably closest to canonical...

Hifumi managed to evade another cloud of flowers by jumping from the lion-dog to a stack of books to a creepily smiling statue. "Oracle? What's this now?"

"Sleep," Futaba said. "There's armor to resist sleep, but we don't have it, because no one uses sleep, because you wake up the first time you get hit!" Or it could be fought with some kind of medicine they didn't have, or a healing technique which Futaba might be able to get ready at the right moment— "Fox isn't hurt — more — he's just… a little tied up."

"Was that supposed to be funny." Yusuke was half-standing, leaning on the plinth, using his sword to cut himself loose from the rootlets twined around his boots, up nearly to his knees. "I don't think it was funny." The sword was obviously not the best tool for the job. Hifumi's naginata would be worse yet — hopefully she could continue avoiding getting caught…

It was kinda funny.

"As soon as you're loose, Fox, agility buffs," Futaba said.

Hifumi got off another volley of arrows before she had to run from the flowers again — statue to reliquary to another lion-dog to Yusuke's plinth, to give him a hand up. "I'm not sure he shouldn't save his magic for the ice attacks, they're the only thing doing any meaningful damage!"

"Yes, but he's going to need agility to jump around avoiding the sleep attacks so he can use the ice attacks!"

Hifumi is the combat strategist, Futaba is the Metaverse-experienced person and does more logistics, and Yusuke mostly does what they tell him.

"I'm right here," Yusuke said mildly. He went with the agility buffs, and just in time — more flowers, and they had to run in opposite directions.

"Stop fighting — I don't wish to hurt you!"

"Sorry, Mom's Shadow," Futaba muttered, "not gonna take your word for that."

It genuinely does not want to hurt them, but honestly I wouldn’t trust it not to hurt them by accident even if they weren’t fighting.

The battle didn't improve from there, although not in the usual way. Asherah stuck to attacking with the sleep flowers, which it was easy to see coming and which could be evaded — assuming there was something other than the rootlet-covered floor to jump to. The most damage either of them took was when Hifumi slipped off an urn and landed on one of the smashable fire pots. She wasn't on fire for very long, thanks to Yusuke's questionable but effective use of an ice spell and the Shadow using a recovery spell on her, but it put enough of a dent in her health that she had to use a remedy.

If they weren’t so exhausted and nervous, they’d probably be commenting more on how it’s a really ridiculous-looking fight. The room looks ridiculous, they’re playing ‘the floor is lava’ on really tacky statues, the enemy is healing them... But the fight isn’t going well, so they’re focused on trying to turn it around.

Asherah just wasn't taking much damage, either. A few windtorn twigs, some marks in the bark from arrows or bullets, an ice gouge or three — not nothing — but it wasn't like they'd be able to keep this up indefinitely! Prometheus could do some magic restoration, but it wasn't keeping up!

"Say the word if you see a chance to get out, Shade," Futaba said finally. Running from a Palace-ruler fight felt all kinds of wrong, but it wasn't like they'd sent a calling card that would wear off.

"I've been looking," Hifumi replied tightly.

…Not good.

"Stop fighting!"

The first time Hifumi got hit with the sleep flowers, she managed to sort of drape herself over the statue whose plinth she was sharing and avoid falling to the floor — which was great as far as not being tied up by rootlets and having to try to cut her way loose with a naginata, but on the other hand the fall would have woken her up. It took Futaba several tries to muster a recovery spell to get rid of the sleep. In the meantime, Yusuke had the Shadow's complete attention and had to devote himself completely to dodging — no counterattacks, no agility buffs, no arginade. He was running out of places to jump to when Futaba managed to get Hifumi awake to distract Asherah with another attack. From her dwindling ammunition supply.

I think if they’d had even one more active combatant to split the Shadow’s attention they might have won.

Futaba had kind of been thinking they had until Yusuke ran out of magic to come up with something, but it was beginning to look like they'd be lucky to make it that long.

I’m going to break off here -- may continue later.

#writing babble #start again fic

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the-wlw-cafe · 6 years ago

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N S F W A - Z: Lena Luthor

okay so nobody requested this but this is a present from myself to myself, because i love myself and i deserve nice things. But feel free to request this for other characters!

Anyway, this is basically 50% Smut and 50% Feelings. PTSD, body image issues and Lillian’s abuse are mentioned, so be safe if any of that might bother you.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Lena needs aftercare after sex. She’s not used to being vulnerable with somebody else, being bare in more ways than one, and it can get overwhelming for her. After the first time you’d made love you were shocked to find her burrowing her face into a pillow to hide the fact she was crying. A few panicked minutes followed, you were worried you did something wrong and she was afraid of ruining everything by being so damn emotional. You did work it out though, and you soon realized that the tears she was shedding were tears of love, a love greater than any she had ever felt before, and this realization had swept the proverbial rug from under her feet.

You’ve gotten a lot better at communicating now, and Lena isn’t ashamed of needing to be held after sex anymore. She just automatically searches out your warmth and clings to you like you’re her rock while you murmur soft praises into her ear, holding her through the twitches of occasional aftershocks. She’s so soft in the afterglow, all the harshness she works so hard to maintain every day completely fade away as she melts into your embrace.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

When Lena thinks back to her mother, her real mother, she always remembers her with green eyes so similar to hers, She doesn’t know if she has fabricated this detail, her memories from a time before the Luthors are blurry at best, and the human mind is notoriously unreliable at recollecting. Still, it can feel like her eyes are the only thing she has left of her mother.

Lena is an arms girl through and through. She’s fascinated by the interplay of muscles under your skin when you do menial work, when you hold her safe and sound, when they’re keeping you aloft suspended above her body as she grinds her hips upwards into you, the way they flex as you pump your fingers in and out of her at an unforgiving pace…

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Lena is a squirter. She tried to warn you the first time she felt it happen, that deep build, that sensation as if she was about to burst, but then you curled your fingers in just the right way and she shattered apart with a scream before she could get the words out. Afterwards, she tried to gather her wits and string a sheepish apology about the bedsheets together, but when she saw you kneeling between her legs, stunned in a state of what could only be described as awe, she decided that maybe the apology could wait. Especially after you immediately dived back in to clean her with your tongue.

D = Dirty Secret

Lena was very sexually active during her time in an all-girls boarding school in Ireland, a devoutly catholic one of all places.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

She’s plenty experienced when it comes to fucking, she can make you come undone in minutes with any combination of her skilled fingers and her clever tongue. What she has little to no experience is making love, being vulnerable. It doesn’t come naturally to her, not in the beginning, at least, but over time she learns that she can be open with you, because you are her safe haven.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying, will probably include a visual)

She loves to have you ride her face, pulling your centre into her mouth roughly while you hold onto the headboard for dear life. She loves the way she can drive you wild with teasing little licks over your clit that are never quite enough, the way she can make you grind your hips into her mouth chasing the feeling of her tongue, coating the entire lower half of her face in slick. But her favourite thing about this position is the way you look down at her, pupils blown wide and so, so intense. When you’re riding her face like this, she can’t help but snake one hand between her own thighs to relieve some of the dull ache.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

Sex for her had always been a quick way to scratch an itch, not a particularly humorous affair. In fact, you’re the one that first makes her realize that no; it doesn’t ruin the mood if you dissolve into silly giggles because you accidentally knocked off her glasses in your eagerness to pull her closer.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they; does the carpet match the drapes etc.)

She keeps everything trimmed, but she lacks the patience for waxing.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Especially in the beginning of your relationship Lena was afraid to show too much intimacy, not because you didn’t mean enough to her, but because she was so afraid that in the end, she’d feel more for you than you felt for her. All her life she’s been told that everything comes down to transactions, to risk and reward, and the risk of putting herself out in the open like that was daunting, paralyzing. She was still waiting for the other shoe to drop and for you to be taken away from her like every other good thing in her life. You were the one who had to take the plunge and say I love you first. But she was the one who said it the second, third, fourth and fifth time, all the while riding your fingers desperately, and she didn’t stop telling you until you were both exhausted and sated.

There are still days where she struggles with showing intimacy, but don’t ever let that fool you into thinking she doesn’t love you more than anything in the world.

Jack Off (Masturbation Headcanon)

Since Lena is on some quite heavy antidepressants and they can make it difficult to really get there when she’s on her own, but she when you’re with her she does love putting on a show for you, and she swears she could come from your expression and the way you curse under your breath as she teases herself for you alone.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Lena has a praise kink a mile wide and that’s just a fact. She loves hearing you tell her what a good girl she is, how pretty she looks stretched around your fingers, how well she’s taking you…

She’s into some restraint play and light BDSM too, but only on the receiving end. This was not always the case, she used to be dominant in a lot of her past relationships and hook-ups, but mostly because it was what was expected of Lena Luthor, the stone cold, cut-throat, domineering CEO. What she really longs for is to let herself go for a while, to give someone else the reigns while she’s just Lena, and with you, she finally found somebody she trusts enough to give herself over.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

It’s a lucky thing that the public doesn’t know what goes on in Lena’s office, because Lena has a serious kink for office sex. You’ve eaten her out on that pristine white sofa, you’ve bent her across the desk and taken her from behind with a strap-on, you’ve pressed her up against the cool glass of a windowpane while husking the dirtiest things into her ear.

You’re pretty sure Jess knows. She hasn’t been able to look you in the eyes for weeks now.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Your strength. And by that I don’t mean physical, although that’s definitely a turn-on in its own right (she is, after all, an arms girl). Seeing you stand up for yourself, holding your own in the world of rich old white men she navigates on the daily despite not being raised into it like she was. The way you don’t let yourself be intimidated by them or bullied for not “belonging” in the circles she is known to be in. It always makes her chest swell with love and fierce pride, and, well, sometimes it makes her pull you buy the hand into the nearest bathroom or closet.

N = NO (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Lena’s been through some shit in her life, from witnessing the death of her mother at age 4 and being carted off into an abusive household to the almost weekly attacks and attempts on her life, and it’s no wonder that she carries enough trauma for a dozen people her age. She struggles with PTSD and she can slip into panic attacks at the drop of a hat. She’s had to safeword on more than one occasion because sometimes, even though everything was fine only moments ago, it suddenly all becomes too much to bear. She trusts you to respect that and, on the occasion a panic attack has her in its grip so tightly that she can’t actually form the word, to read her correctly.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Her experience certainly shines through when giving oral, because she is skilled. She also is a little minx when she has you at her mercy, teasing you and purposefully giving just short of what you need, watching you with undisguised mirth in her eyes as you huff and whine out in frustration, only to suddenly dive in and make you come in a matter of seconds, leaving you gasping for breath as your orgasm crashes through you with the force of a tsunami.

When receiving, however, she is almost an entirely different person. She loves being eaten out, there’s no question, and it seems to awaken something wild in her, something utterly debauched, something almost animal. She’s loud, messy, bucking shamelessly against your mouth, pleading you for harder, faster, more and again.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.)

Lena usually prefers it rough, even when you’re in a romantic, sensual mood. She wants to be able to feel you tomorrow, to have something to remember you by at work, even if it’s just that sweet soreness. With you, however, she takes her time, treating you like the most precious thing in the world because to her, you absolutely are. If you want it harder, you’ll have to ask her. It’s not like she could ever deny you anything.

Q = Quickies (Their opinion on quickies rather than real sex, how often, etc.)

She’ll always prefer the real thing to a quick fix, but she’s a busy woman and there are days where you only see each other during her lunch break, so a quickie in her office will have to do. You will never let her live down the fact that she does, in fact, have designated quickie times in her week planner. Granted, that’s not what they’re called in her planner, but the fact that they’re written in red ink and the words absolutely no disturbances are underlined twice speaks volumes.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks etc.)

There are very few things Lena would outright refuse to try, because she simply wants to make you feel as good as you make her feel. Because of her busy schedule, some of your encounters are definitely on the riskier side in regards to being discovered. Her office, bathrooms at galas, the back of her car when the partition is up: these are all fair game, and if Lena is honest, the risk of being discovered adds a special little thrill for her.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Lena is usually limited to about 3 rounds. It’s not a problem with her stamina though, as she has no problem making you come undone again, and again, and again, but instead it’s just one more side effect of her antidepressants. So you make sure each round counts, leaving her teetering on the edge for as long as she can bear, making sure she gets every last delicious drop of pleasure.

T = Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Lena can afford the best of the best when it comes to toys. So maybe she has a bit of a kink for spoiling you with the most expensive of toys, showing off priceless lingerie only to have you rip it off of her, watching you pound into her with a ridiculously costly stained glass strap-on? She just likes to play the sugar mama from time to time, fulfilling your every secret wish.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

As mentioned before, Lena can be one hell of a teasing minx, and that doesn’t only apply to the bedroom. She loves seeing the effect she has on you, the way you can’t take your eyes off of her when she’s wearing her designer pantsuits in the boardroom, dressing down men three times her age who sure as hell won’t underestimate again, or when she’s in a tight dress at some fancy gala, whispering in your ear how much she needs you to take her right now before returning back to polite conversation as if nothing had happened. She preens under your attention, loves the way she can get under your skin and keep you wanting, and maybe, just maybe, she loves the way you make her pay for it later on when you’re alone, keeping her on the edge while holding climax just out of reach until she’s begging for it.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

She’s very vocal in bed, from the most wicked of dirty talk to shameless moans and whines after you’ve fucked her into incoherency. And when she completely lets herself go, she’s a total screamer. You thank the heavens for the soundproof walls in her apartment and her office.

W = Wild Card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Years and years of verbal and emotional abuse at Lillian’s hands have left Lena with some body image issues, especially regarding her softer curves that neither Lillian nor her could ever seem to get rid of. No matter how often you tell her how beautiful, stunning, awe-inspiring she looks, there will always be days where she asks you to turn the lights off when you’re about to make love, or ask to keep her shirt on.

X = X-Ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Lena’s thighs are soft and lined with pale red stretch marks. She’s self conscious about them, but you love kissing each and every one, and you love leaving hickies on her creamy skin.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive)

Lena is under a lot of stress, her work and the constant danger she’s in sometimes just don’t permit her to relax enough to even take note of her sex drive. You make a point of regularly taking a time out from all of the chaos in National City with Lena, a weekend away from work and stress, somewhere far off in the mountains or at a secluded beach. It’s a shame, really, that you don’t get to appreciate the scenery very much, because, well, you rarely leave the bedroom during those weekends.

Z = ZZZ (how quickly fall asleep afterwards)

Lena doesn’t think there’s a better place to sleep than in your arms. Usually she has troubles falling asleep, her genius brain refusing to shut off for even a moment, not letting her have any peace or a wink of sleep. But when she’s with you, with nothing on her mind but your smell, your warmth and the delicious soreness in her muscles, her worries for once leave her be and she finally gets a good night’s sleep.

#lemon #lena luthor #lena luthor abc #lena luthor imagine #wlw imagine #lena luthor x reader #supergirl imagine #i will never get over the fact that i unirnically use the citrus scale

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bakudekuficlibrary · 6 years ago

Note

Do you have any fics where bakugou is disabled? Yalls blog is sooooo wonderful, and I love yall sooooo much. 😍😍😍😍😍😍💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

Hey there! I’d like to note firstly that I’m able-bodied and I’m definitely not an expert on what is or isn’t a disability. I’ve tried to include all the physical and non-physical disabilities I could find. If I’ve been offensive or inconsiderate in any way here, please let me know.

- Jay

1 Series. 38 Works.

Physical Disabilities

The Way You Used To Do by edema_ruh( T |298,721+ | 18/? )

“We’re really sorry,” his father says, in a teary-eyed, wobbly way. “But your friend, Izuku, he’s… He’s gone, son.”

Katsuki can do nothing but blink up at them for moments that feel like an eternity, eyes darting between both his parents in obvious confusion, disbelief, and, more than anything, indignation.

“What the fuck are you two talking about? The damn nerd is standing right beside you!”

During a battle, Midoriya gets hit by a villain whose quirk detaches his soul from his body. Stuck in a ghost-like state, the boy enters a race against time in order to save himself from permanently dying. Much to his luck - or lack of it -, the only person who can see and talk to him in his state is no one other than Kacchan.

Alternatively: Deku and Kacchan have their souls bound to each other.

[PTSD]

[On Hiatus] That’s That by Fif Sold Her Soul( T |26,079+ | 8/? )

After receiving a life-changing injury that leaves him unable to do any hero work, Bakugou does the best next thing to save face and hide his condition from the world; He becomes a teacher at U.A

Easy right?

Apart from dealing with his rambunctious homeroom class, the new and annoying as fuck generation of villains, his new protégé, and his crippling self-esteem issues, and his crush on fucking Deku, all while hiding his condition from the world, then yeah pretty easy. Not.

Bakugou suddenly has a fuckton respect for Aizawa.

[Abuse | Suicide Mention]

Missed Connections by Labellevita( M |9,765+ | 3/5 )

Deaf Uni student Bakugou can’t catch a break, but he does catch the scent of a fantastic smelling omega.

Dull by choimarie( G |714 | 1/1 )

day 2: your eyes

“What? Never have seen a hot dude before?”

SeriesPart 2 of Bakudeku week 2k18

Tired by igrewupwiththis( Not Rated |10,980 | 2/2 )

Bakugou is just so exhausted, and he needs someone who takes care of him. y'all already know who it is.

Let’s Start Over Again by BrightEyesEren( T |4,107 | 1/1 )

Ten years down the road. Izuku and Katsuki went their separate ways, living their own lives, until they meet again after a tragic turn of events.

Izuku realises how fragile fire actually is.

love is blind (and deaf) by kagehinataboke( T |789 | 1/1 )

Izuku hesitantly opens the door, wielding an umbrella and ready to square up against a mugger. but it’s only one of his neighbors: a new one, in fact. Izuku faintly recalls him moving in a few weeks ago, but one unfriendly glare was enough to stop him from approaching.

he discreetly drops the umbrella behind the door. “can i help you?”

— a bakudeku one-shot

Thought So by zuccin( G |771 | 1/1 )

Midoriya watches Katsuki walk away as he remember the sorrowful past. And he’s glad everything turned out in the end.

I guess… I’ll just… fuckin’ read this by TheGeekProblem( G |1,533 | 1/1 )

Izuku works the graveyard shift in a diner and he’s really tired. A group of people come at 2 a.m. What could go wrong?

Senses by Phayte( E |22,294+ | 6/? )

In a freak accident through battle, Bakugou loses his sight. This is the story of his struggle, downward spiral, and the friends that get him through it.

Everything Before Mourning by hollyandvice( M |15,527 | 1/1 )

“Whatever this is has got you running scared, Kacchan. If it’s got you scared, it’s got me terrified. So please, just… just tell me what’s going on.”

Kacchan runs a hand over his face, suddenly looking old and tired and nothing at all like what Izuku is used to. It makes the tension in Izuku’s chest go even tighter, as though trying to suffocate him. Izuku bites back the fear that wants to spill over his tongue and tries to just pay attention to Kacchan.

Whatever this is, they’re going to get through it together.

When a fight with a villain has longer-reaching consequences than Kacchan expected, he calls on Izuku to help him through. Izuku doesn’t quite know what that will entail, but he knows he won’t back down from this. Not from Kacchan. Not ever.

Am I Ready? by Ryxmas( G |6,226 | 1/1 )

Even after one and a half years after his disappearance, Izuku never really stopped thinking about Katsuki. After all, Katsuki always had a habit of barging into your life, even if you never expected it.

No Warning by DeafBakugou( G |10,375 | 1/1 )

Bakugou survives a natural disaster and has to navigate the world without the normal accommodations he depends on as a Deaf individual.

Finding Out and Confessions by Needle_In_A_NeedleStack( G | 605 | 1/1 )

Bakugo is deaf, that’s why he’s always so loud. He hasn’t told anyone. So when Midoriya Izuku accidentally finds out Bakugo’s secret, how will things change.

Lost The Fight by Katt1848( T |1,733 | 1/1 )

Every Hero remembers the first time they weren’t able to save someone. This is Katsuki’s.

transfigured night by bittermoons( M |6,044 | 1/1 )

An unexpected hospital trip changes things between Izuku Midoriya, age forty-four, and his longtime roommate, co-parent, and co-composer, Katsuki Bakugou.

Migraines and Emotional Pains by Leonidas1754( G | 1,212 | 1/1 )

Bakugo gets migraines often, resulting in going home early and Midoriya taking care of him. Said migraines also often result in thinking too much about himself and Midoriya, and how much he simply doesn’t deserve Midoriya’s love. Thankfully, Midoriya still knows how to handle him.

[Abandoned] An Internship by Aizawa_mf_Shouta, Qnonymous( Not Rated |2,954 | 6/? )

Bakugou isn’t happy, and it only gets worse.

hole in the wall by imanimoon( M |1,214+ | 1/? )

The camera’s perspective shook as the holder zoomed in on the hero. Maybe they were hoping to catch the moment in which Zero would pull himself to his feet with gritted teeth and then, in a vicious roar, promise the demise of his opponent before seeing to it. As he always did.But he’d barely moved a muscle.The sound crackled on as someone yelled out to the hero before cutting off right after.“Why isn’t he moving?”What seemed like hours could only have been mere minutes before the camera caught someone’s faint whisper, their voice coated in trembling disbelief, “I-I don’t think he can.”

It’d been years since Japan had experienced a tragedy of this magnitude. Some even called it “The Leveling,” villains unleashing havoc around the city leaving hundreds of civilians dead, numerous buildings grounded, and even heroes brought to their knees.

When Bakugou awakens in a hospital without the ability to walk, he believes his life is over. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to retain his number one hero status as a “cripple”. It isn’t until his childhood friend re-enters his life and shows him firsthand that Pro-Heroes aren’t the only ones who can save people.

[Ableism | PTSD]

Champion by DirtyDeku( M |575 | 1/1 )

Hiya!! This is based on a few roleplays I’ve had with my dear friend!! I hope you all enjoy it.

[Rape/Non-Con]

Non-Physical Disabilities

[Series] Schizophrenic Bakugou by masteremeraldholder( T |22,496 | 3 Works | Complete )

In which, Bakugou Katsuki has schizophrenia, and how he deals with it in everyday life.

[Suicide Attempt | Self Harm | Panic Attacks | Ableism]

Longing for Clarity by sushisama( E |106,663+ | 16/23 )

Slice of life AU. Check notes in first chapter for more specific details.Katsuki is in his senior year, and though he’s dealing his own questionable mental condition, he can’t help the excitement of the upcoming graduation. But his boyfriend, Izuku, has been acting strange, being almost a little too intimate. They come to find out that Izuku is going through the fermin, a predicament certain Quirk holders go through. Now Katsuki is being forced into considering relinquishing the secrecy of their relationship, if only to keep all he wandering eyes from Izuku.

SeriesPart 1 of Fermin Story

And You Got To Me by hopeboiwonder( M |17,547 | 4/4 )

Katsuki’s need to immerse himself in something that wasn’t his new day in day out routine of working and sleeping leads him to discover a coffee shop in the middle of the night. Cafe Yagi.

Izuku’s hair billows and bunches, chasing after him like a salty, green ocean wave; churning up crests of bright shimmer from the light above. His eyes brown bowls speckled with rich golden rings around his pupils; and remind him of the thin film of crema on top of a freshly pulled espresso shot…

Needless to say, coffee hasn’t left his mind since.

Crash by Storyofanotakuslife( T |2,089 | 1/1 )

Bad days aren’t unusual for Katsuki, he’s learned to handle them the best he can. Which usually means alone. But bipolar doesn’t care about your feelings, and for once he’s actually willing to accept some outside help.

(Can be read as platonic or romantic bakudeku)

Izuku’s Home for Wayward Pets by glamour_weeb( E |50,436+ | 11/? )

Izuku works at the Bureau of Companion Protection as a rehabilitator for abused and abandoned Companions, animal-human hybrids. He’s seen his fair share of cruelty cases and even fostered a few Companions, but he’s never had a Companion of his own, until now. After rescuing Katsuki from a life in an illegal, underground Companion fighting ring, Izuku must take in the wolfdog that no one else can handle.

Eventually, Katsuki comes to love his new home, as well as his new Master.

[PTSD | Past Abuse]

be loved by bonnia( T |5,403 | 1/1 )

They sit there, in the darkness of the common room, about a few centimeters between them, but miles apart. Somehow, the quiet is companionable. More than it has been in many years. Katsuki knows he’s responsible for the rift between them, and he knows even more that it can’t only be Deku who attempts to mend it.

“Hey,” he says, after a while, and Deku turns to him in question, but Katsuki refuses to look his way. “Touch me again.”

(or: the kidnapping incident leaves bakugou traumatised about being touched on the back of his neck, and midoriya decides to take matters into his own hands)

[PTSD | Panic Attacks]

new eyes by WabiSabi( T |56,645+ | 16/? )

Katsuki wakes up 22 years in the past.

With no other choice, he moves on.

(Or where Katsuki tries to mind his own business and fails spectacularly because he can´t stand people pissing over those who gained his respect. Even Deku. Especially Deku.)

SeriesPart 1 of Decrescente

[PTSD]

The Absolute Truth by Glon_Morski ( E |67,078 | 5/5 )

“What words did you say, exactly? Share with us. Show us how much of a monster you really are, Ground Zero.”

I told him…

‘Shut up!’

…that I have a time saving idea for him…

‘Shut up!’

…that if he wants to have a quirk that badly…

‘Shut the fuck up!!!’

…he should take a swan dive off a roof and hope for a quirk in his next life

The pain blooms on his throat this time as the characters that write the answer carve themselves into his skin. It doesn’t feel like a scalpel cutting through his skin this time. Nor does it feel like his skin is breaking on its own after being stretched too thin. Instead, the experience is akin to having his throat literally shredded, as if a million of tiny, jagged claws or teeth are digging into his flesh and pulling at it to brand him with the words.

This time, Katsuki screams.

A.K.A In which Katsuki is captured by villains who want to expose him as a ‘false hero’ (as per Stain’s ideology) and use a truth serum-like quirk to do it.

Mind the tags.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | PTSD | Panic Attacks]

[On Hiatus] You Were October Nights by AlchemyandHeroAnalysis( E |27,728+ | 4/? )

Across the locker room, tucked into the small corner of the wall separating the changing room and the showers, sat the Bakugou Katsuki with his knees drawn up to his chest and his head tucked in his arms. If Izuku hadn’t heard him, he probably would never have seen him to begin with. But he could. He could see and hear everything.

Please, don’t be real.

His gut twisted painfully as Katsuki’s broken sobs echoed against the concrete walls. His entire body shook with each desperate wail that escaped him. It sounded as though he was in complete and utter agony, painfully vulnerable and without any remote sign of stopping.

Summary:Izuku stumbles upon an emotionally distraught Katsuki in the agency locker room and is horrified by what he sees. What could have possibly happened to make his childhood friend this … broken?

[Rape/Non-Con | PTSD | Abuse | Self Harm | Addiction]

I Could Never Know A World Without You. by Kasplode( M |45,800+ | 9/? )

“Stay back, Deku.”

Izuku doesn’t listen. That decision leads to his death.

In a twist of fate that entwines him irrevocably with Katsuki, it turns out their time together isn’t over yet.

(OR: the bodysharing wonder duo AU where Izuku is kidnapped along with Katsuki, and the combination of unprecedented quirks leads to unexpected results.)

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | PTSD | Panic Attacks | Dissociation | Abuse]

Letting Go is the Ruffest Thing by SurelyHeavenWaits( T |5,541 | 1/1 )

For Bakugou Katsuki, storms bring change and never the good kind. Those howling winds and driving droplets of rain spell the end of an era for him, every single time.

Until this storm.

This storm brings Deku.

[PTSD]

[On Hiatus] Lost and found by Sad_Pawn( T |12,329+ | 6/? )

Katsuki is finally back after being taken by the League of Villains. However, he seems to have lost an important piece of himself. Can he recover without it?

Midoriya is so relieved that Kacchan is back and safe. But when he visits him, he immediately notices something is terribly, terribly wrong. Can he help restore his childhood friend's hope?

[PTSD | Panic Attacks]

Fix Me by goateyes( E | 8,901+ | 3/? )

After an important mission goes south Bakugo finds himself in the hospital suffering from a severe injury. His agency forces him to go to physical therapy where he meets his therapist Midoriya, love (and chaos) ensues.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | PTSD]

ghostin' by chaoticheroes( G |1,583 | 1/1 )

“I’m proud of you.”

“You’ve said that already, dumbass.”

“Yeah, well, I am. Proud of you, that is.” Katsuki rolls his eyes and tries to turn his head away but Izuku presses his hand to his cheek, forcing their eyes to meet. Izuku can’t see clearly but if he could, he knows Katsuki would be matching him with the same intensity that he’s known for. “I have every right to be proud of you. I love you. You having issues that are a little bigger than the both of us changes absolutely none of that, Kacchan.”

[PTSD]

The Bonds that bind by EloFromMars( E | 2,818 | 1/1 )

Izuku is excited, tonight is their anniversary. He had planned everything. Or so he thought.

[PTSD | Panic Attacks]

[On Hiatus] Routine by strawberryflavoring( M |1,714+ | 1/? )

Bakugou isn't good at handling himself, and Deku's been too busy to see him getting worse. So, as you'd probably expect, Bakugou flips shit.

[Rape/Non-Con | PTSD | Self Harm]

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