Tumgik
#also hes always crying and breathing heavily in my ear so im just like. poor guy
aphsillyos · 2 months
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his default recall is so cool..........
#not me arts tag#ive never used his default skin so i didnt even know what it looked like until now....ough#i wish u could mix and match sounds or recalls with skins................#i honestly forget half the time hes supposed to be like. Cool and Suave and a Competent Badass#because my brain is always like. god hes so small and floppy and will die if you breathe on him wrong#also hes always crying and breathing heavily in my ear so im just like. poor guy#he should be at the bed taking a nap not fighting....... who made him fight.... stop that he doesnt belong on the battle field#he might be a badass hitman or smth but my brain is like#this is just a sad theatre kid who took gymnastics#''aphelios how is your assassin training going'' aphelios who has only been reading the acrobatics textbook: my what#is there anyone still reading these tags. hi there#i have a lot of thoughts on him. im very obsessed with his animations#like he has a laugh animation for every weapon.......#all the various weapon animations...#maybe the real reason we wont have a legendary for 10 more years is all the animating they have to do#i mean his base animations are so good id honest be like OK if they reused them#cant rly do much better than already Top Tier animations#unless we get an alune legendary.....#hope alune is super awesome and badass and all the aphelios voicelines are a really shy awkward guy or smth#like you look so cool and awesome fighting and the whole world doesnt know ur listening to a lil guy in your brain the whole game#the contrast would be very funny methinks#if anyones still reading this. yes i know riot made up some reason about budget or whatever for voices#but i choose to believe aphelios is head empty no thoughts and thats why he doesnt talk to alune#(STILL GOOFY OF A REASON... lots of VAs can do both genders of voices.... like. what about kindred and kayn....)#then again wouldnt be surprised if they were overbudget on the animations but still smh my head into oblivion#can relate to a guy who simply doesnt wanna talk#(said after 10000 tags of talking to myself)#i should really put my thoughts onto a separate post or blog or something#anyways have i mentioned i think hes really cute
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talas-starlight · 4 years
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Lover - Percy Jackson x Fem!reader
SUMMARY: You’ve crushed on Percy for years, him on the other hand? It’s more of a recent development. That doesn’t mean he likes you any less.
(Older Percy & reader - they're like 21) ALSO idk perfectly what happens in trials of apollo so let’s just ✨ignore that ✨ & this isn’t sexual despite what the title may suggest
WORD COUNT: 2.7k
A/N: hi friends this is for @fromthewatertribe​ ‘s 1k follower event!! Im sure most of you have but if not definitely check out their work!! Its soooo good I promises and ugh their Leo fic?! *chefs kiss* anyway idk if this is any good oop I tried
PROMPTS USED: 9 & 11. (they’re bolded)
WARNINGS: swearing, mentions of ptsd & anxiety, kissing stuff lol ish eh idk, mentions of percabeth breakup?? Does that count?
MASTERLIST: here!
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An obnoxiously red and orange light filters into the motel room, even with the old and tattered curtains closed, the motels’ sign conquers its way through the fabric. Sighing you flop yourself on the faded, probably twenty-year-old bed. Nose scrunching as some dust raises into the air, consequently letting out a sneeze.
“Bless you.”
“Did you just bless yourself?”
You winced at the reminder someone else was in the room, exhausted after the two-day travel to a motel room in the middle of whoop. “Yeah…”
“You really are something, aren’t you?” At the calm amusement evident in his tone, your heart rate began to slow down. He didn’t think you were crazy.
You let out a breathy laugh. Wow, I wonder how those stains got on the ceiling? Lava monster perhaps? Are those even a thing? Probably.
“Yeah… well, someone has to Jackson.” You glance towards him, he’s sitting at the small, poor excuse of a dining table. Heart rate picking up again as he gives you a small smile, already having his eyes on you this entire time.
“If I don’t, who will?” you continue.
“Touché. In that case, I’ll do the blessing from now on; you deserve a break.” Shooting you a wink. Instantly feeling flustered at his action, you fight the urge to cover your face with your hands.
Oh, Percy, if only you knew you’ve already been blessing me for the past six years.
“Even say…. If we’re in a battle?” you muse.
He gets up from the table and walks towards you. Once he reaches your side of the queen bed, he kneels, grabbing the hand closest to him, while putting his other on top of his heart. “Oh, y/n l/n, even with my dying breath.”
With that, you burst into a fit of laughter. This boy and his sarcasm.
You play along. “Hmmm what a great tale that will be. The one and only, Perseus Jackson, spending his final breath on sweet old y/n l/n. How dare you burden me with such a legacy to live up to! They’ll think I’m your lover, you know. Demigods all around the world will come searching for me, just to gawk at the beauty that stole your heart.”
At this point, Percy has fallen from his kneeling position, completely lying on the ground, overcome with laughter.
“This isn’t funny, Percy! How am I supposed to live with the guilt of knowing I don’t live up to their expectations?! I’m hardly a warrior either, oh the disappointment.”
Gasping for breath, he manages to find his words, “Don’t stress it y/n, you’re plenty beautiful. I just know they’ll all be stunned by your beauty. Don’t sell yourself short… trust me, once they see you, they’ll be envious that my lover was so enraptured by me that you’ll never be able to love again.”
Now it was your turn to laugh. Would that be so bad?
Gasping for breath, eventually, both of your laughs die down, leaving you both breathing heavily. “C’mon Percy, let’s get some sleep. Its going to be a long week of scouting for demigods if we’re tired.”
As Percy nods, silently getting up to go to the bathroom to change, but he can’t help but think to himself that he wouldn’t mind if he was stuck in the middle of nowhere with you. No matter how long.
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It had been three days since you and Percy arrived in the town you continuously fail to remember the name of. It wasn’t the only thing you were failing at doing either, because it seemed that for some unknown reason, the school that was supposed to arrive here for their camping trip still hadn’t shown up.
“We should send an Iris message to camp. It doesn’t look like they’re showing up any time soon, and by the looks of things, we’re going to need to have them send someone for more supplies.”
Percy sighed, looking out the window. Was this the opportunity he was looking for? Maybe… he knew he’d be a stupid fool to pass it up. Swept up in his new thoughts, he never replied. “Percy?”
Without even looking at you, he nodded, turning to go to the bathroom, “Yeah sure, I’ll go into the bathroom and make the call.”
Humming in acknowledgement as he left the room, you couldn’t help but stare at the spot he was previously standing in from your position on the edge of the bed. He doesn’t look too good.
For such a great hero, you wondered if this quest was doing him any good. After the first day of scouting the campsite, it was obvious he was already antsy to get home. It seemed no matter how light you tried to keep the atmosphere; it was like something was weighing on his mind. Mostly when you were both in the motel room together, you supposed it was because he barely went on quests nowadays. Understandably so, after all, who could blame him for wanting a break and spend time with his family? This made you feel immensely guilty since you could never give him words of truly understanding what he’s gone through. You’d arrived at camp a few days before him, yet over the years you were never sent onto a major quest. It upset you greatly at first, but you grew to appreciate your time at camp.
Before your mind could delve further into its guilt and self-pity, Percy re-entered the room, sitting next to you with a huff. “It’s all good. They’re going to send Leo with some extra supplies, and he’ll help us for the rest of this quest.”
Accidentally getting swept up in how pretty his eyes were, you tensed up, realising he was staring at you expectantly. Quickly nodding and clearing your throat you looked down to your lap, “ahh, okay that sounds good. I guess we’ll have time to sightsee or something…”
Sightsee? Really y/n? There’s nothing in this stupid town!
An awkward silence filled the room. Due to your previous thoughts, you were unsure how to proceed. This was the first time you were alone with him and had nothing else better to do.
Percy on the other hand, found that the obvious swooning look in your eyes was his green light. “Uhhh actually y/n?”
Oh, please don’t ask me why I basically just drooled all over you for NO FUCKING REASON. Snapping your head back up to look at him, you desperately tried to ignore the pounding in your chest that managed to find its way into your ears, “yeah?”
“There’s something I want to ask you.”
Holy shit he knows, doesn’t he? He knows I’ve liked him this entire time, and he’s going to reject me even though I never even said anything!
“I uhm… look I know we’re kind of on a small quest and all but technically we ARE waiting for Leo and the school to arrive before we continue… and you know we kind of have like at least a day or two until then so I was just wondering…”
“Yeah, Percy? You can just say it, you know; I really don’t mind.” I do mind, but please get this over with before I cry. With your heart rate increasing at an alarming rate and face heating up so much, you wanted Zeus to blast you right then and there.
Percy felt like he was about to puke, he’d never felt this nervous before. Yeah, he had his moments growing up with Annabeth, after all, she was his first girlfriend, but this was different. He wanted this to be different. Sure, he never regretted their relationship, and yes, he knew he’d always remember everything they went through- what he went through but… he wanted a clean slate. He desperately just wanted nothing more than to know that there was at least one person in his life that wasn’t constantly fighting for their lives—someone who didn’t have to live with as much trauma as him.
“W- would you maybe... Gods, do you want to have dinner tomorrow night? Maybe at the diner further into the town?”
HOLY FUCK.
He was interested and honestly, you were over the moon. Breathing out the breath you were holding in, you fail to hide the smile on your face, “yeah, I’d like that.”
His face instantly broke out into a wide smile matching yours. “Wait really?”
Unable to hold back a small giggle, you nodded, “yeah, Percy.”
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Staring at yourself in the mirror, you admire the blue dress you found in a charity shop this morning while Percy was sleeping. I can’t believe this is happening.
If you had old even more awkward 15-year-old y/n that you were about to go on a date with the boy you admired from your table during meals (when he was there), you would’ve laughed. Mainly because at that point, he didn’t even know you existed, only having your first conversation during the battle of Manhattan when you were helping Will.
Okay… lets do this.
Walking out of the bathroom, Percy is already sitting on the bed in his usual t-shirt, jeans and converse waiting for you.
“Woah… You look uh-” Never finishing his statement, worry bubbled in your chest.
“Oh, uhm… I- I can change if you’d like?
Jumping up from his place on the bed, his head shook quickly. “NO! N-no don’t do that.”
“Ah uhm… okay? Sorry, it’s just I saw it in a store earlier and uhm… it looked nice, and I just thought that maybe it’d be cool to maybe put in a bit more effort? I mean… not that you don’t look good or anything! I love what you wear, you always look nice! but I don’t know… I don’t get to look nice much and… I just wanted it to be kinda special since we don’t get to… well our lives don’t really grant us these opportunities very often. Or at least for me anyway…”
“Hey, no, it’s okay! I totally get it… you look beautiful.” After hearing your small confession and thought to prepare for your date, his heart felt like it was melting. How could someone be so thoughtful when all he was doing was taking you to a rundown diner who probably only served mediocre burgers?
A small wave of guilt washed through him. Feeling like he would never be able to truly sweep you off your feet or give you that sweet, tooth-rotting love and affection, every day, just like you deserved. After everything, he knew he could try his best but even then, he’d never be able to hide the anxiety or PTSD he had acquired over the years.
You looked up to him with a smirk. “Glad to hear it, lover.”
Cheeks heating up at your comment, he laughed trying to play it off as cool as possible. Taking a step closer to you and flattening his shirt as if it would wipe away its wrinkles, he held out his arm. “Shall we, lover?”
Matching his level of fake sophistication, you linked your arm with his, “with pleasure.”
And with that, you both walked out of the motel, with hopeful spirits. To any onlooker, you both looked like normal young adults.  
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“Where the fuck are you?!” Percy’s voice boomed from his end of the phone, supposedly made without any monster risks.  
You winced, slowly and cautiously walking your way out of the forest. The once clean dress was now covered in dirt and had few tears. It went perfectly with your dishevelled, twig and leaf infested hair.
“Space doesn’t really exist, so I’m nowhere. Life is built on social constructs and, since there’s no way to know if we’re really alive or if it’s just an illusion, I can’t be anywhere.”
“Y/n.”
Okay, he was concerned, and you couldn’t blame him. After all, how did you expect him to react after getting separated from you as you were chased into the woods by an Empousai after dinner?
Romance at its finest.  
“Yeah, sorry, I got caught up, but I’ll be there soon.”
Ending the call, you couldn’t help but feel guilty as you replayed the events that just occurred in your head. The date was amazing. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but it was still sweet. Which led you both to go on one of those cliché night walks. That was nice too, until two Empousai came out of the forest and decided to attack you both.
Percy being…. Well Percy, he swiftly got out riptide and didn’t hesitate to defend the two of you. You, on the other hand, were completely caught off guard only just noticing as one of them turned their focus on you while Percy was distracted.
And what did you do like the perfectly trained demigod you were?
You ran like a headless chicken into the forest.
After a few minutes of running, they tackled you into the ground. Trying and failing failed to shove them off, you suddenly remembered the dagger you strapped to your thigh under your dress and stabbed them.
Clearly not your proudest moments.
Finally making it back to the room, you unlocked the door and let out a huff of relief. “Well… that date didn’t go as expected.”
Percy, took in your current state staring at you with wide eyes… but he didn’t say anything. Is he angry at me? Fuck now he’s going to call off whatever this is, all because I’m an incompetent idiot! I knew I should have tried harder in the sparring activities at camp.
Feeling highly intimidated under his intense stare, you began to play with the hem of your dress, voice going quiet. “Look I uh- I know it probably wasn’t the date you were hoping for but I uhm-“
Before you could even finish your poor excuses, your words are soon lost entirely. Percy stalked towards you with a determined look on his face. Reaching you, he firmly placed his hands on either side of your face, smashing his lips onto yours.
You let out a small, muffled squeak of surprise as your eyebrows shot up into Olympus. Yet unlike your fighting skills, this was something you managed to adapt to at a faster pace.
Eyes fluttering closed, you fisted his shirt, pulling him closer.
Please don’t let this be a dream.
Because Gods forbid if this your one chance, you weren’t letting this moment end that easily.  
Moving your lips against his, the urgency he came onto you with slowly began to dissipate, feeling his soft, but slightly chapped lips move against yours. Deepening the kiss, you let go of his shirt, gliding your hands up his tense torso and along his strong arms, eventually placing your hands on his wrists that were on either side of your face. Applying a small amount of pressure to the inside of his wrists with your thumbs, his mind began to drift into a calming haze as you softly stroked them. It was almost as if you were able to brush away the worry that bubbled in him when he got back to the room, only to find you weren’t there. Yet here you were… safe.
It was intoxicating and calming having him so close to you, his entire being overcoming your senses to a point where you fought the urge to let out a small whimper when he pulled away.
Resting his forehead against yours, chest rising and falling heavily flushed against you; he continued to hold you in his warm embrace. “I wouldn’t have had it any other way.” He whispers, breath fanning against your face.
Because as much as Percy was afraid he’d let you down, he knew no matter what you were worth every single risk.
“…but I’m going to have to teach you a few things when we get back to camp. We can’t have my lover running away in battle all the time, how will I know if you sneeze?”
Letting out a snort, you playfully hit his chest. “Anything for you, lover.”
A soft smile graces his face as he looks at you adoringly as the word takes on a whole new meaning… because you were right. He’d do anything.
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A/N: whelp! i hope you all liked it :)) its not perfect but oh well? 
also i dont have a percy jackson taglist but i gotta tag the holy grail of fic writers for this fandon eep @cabinofimagines​   🙈 🙈
Divider credit: @biskit-rising​
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kisekinodrabbles · 3 years
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Sam you're back!!! Can i get a request where aomine preparing a proposal marriage to his so but accidentally mention it to his so? And it ended up funny please!! I've been waiting for your ask box to be opened 🤗🤗
alwkerjalkejr im sorry this is so late and im bad at Humor so this is the best i can do for now, i hope u enjoy it 
Aomine wasn’t a planner. Not even close. He had breezed through high school with poor grades and actions decided solely on impulse. He had faced college head on with no particular direction and went where the wind sent him. The only thing he was certain about had been basketball and that had been the only thing pushing him forward. 
However, of course, it was different after he met you. The game changer, some called you. No one would guess that Aomine would’ve settled down at the raw age of 24 with a woman he had known for exactly seven months and three days. A blind date first encounter, several dates and sexy times later, the two of you had made it exclusive. 
And Aomine was whipped to say the least. 
24 was a far cry from his expected settlement age. The two of you butt heads on many things, including your relationship and the long-term perspective. He viewed marriage as a trap, a cage to keep him locked up and away. But you had illuminated the difference in his mind. 
Marriage wasn’t a prison, it was a commitment. Commitment that didn’t leave him feeling stuck, but instead liberated. The thought of spending the rest of his life with you both terrified and enthralled him. Terrified not because he feared giving up the rest of his life, but because the idea of losing you imprinted a searing pain into his heart.
He twiddled with the ring box in his hands, feeling the smooth velvet underneath his fingertips. He had bought it on impulse - a glance into a jewelry store when the two of you were out for your biweekly date (given your busy schedules – Aomine with training and you with your mundane desk job). He had gotten a bonus for the season for doing particularly well, not that it was hard.
It was the extra cash, he would say, that made him do it. When you traipsed off into a bakery, he wandered in the opposite direction and ended up back in front of the glimmering diamonds. He was just going to take a look, he figured. No harm done.
However, he ended up walking out with a small bag that he quickly hid from sight in his gym bag – the weight of the tiny compartment placing a heavy burden on his shoulders. His nerves crept up on him as if the box would sear right through the fabric and you would find out that This Idiot had bought a ring on a whim. A pricey one at that (he had to recalculate his budgeting for the month after this).
“Daiki,” you called, snapping your fingers in front of his face.
Aomine descended back to reality and to the meal before him. The two of you were sharing dinner and apparently you had been sharing a story about your coworker who he couldn’t really give less shit about but he just enjoyed listening to the sound of your voice fill the room. 
“Huh?” he asked, mouthful of pasta opening to let bits fall out.
You crinkled your nose in disgust, eyeing the fallen pieces on his plate. “You’re gross, first of all. Second, you’re not listening to me.”
“Yes, your coworker has stolen multiple pens from your table and hasn’t given a single one back but you’ve seen it on other people’s desks.” Years of “not” listening to Momoi nag his ass off had trained him to pick up on key points of conversation. He had gotten multiple earfuls from his childhood friend for not listening and he was almost thankful that he had a skillful ear. 
Oh. That had you closing your mouth and blushing. Cute. “Okay, fine, so you were listening. But still!” 
“Babe, it really isn’t a big deal. Just ask for them back from your other coworkers, I’m sure they’ll be cool with it.”
“I guess,” you mumbled. 
Aomine’s lips quirked up. You didn’t like confrontation and especially not over something so small. Cute.
“Are you cleaning the bedroom tomorrow or am I?” you said, collecting both your plates and leaving them in the sink. Aomine instinctively followed after you to get started on the dishes – he had been well-trained in the art of kitchen hygiene mainly through your incessant criticism of how bad he was at it. 
Meanwhile, you headed over to your shared bedroom only to be dismayed by the sight of his gym bag. You could practically see the smell leaking out from it. “Daiki,” you groaned again. What was it this time, he wondered. He was distracted by getting every inch of stain off the plates when you grumbled, bringing out his bag. “What did I tell you about leaving your gross, used uniform in your bag? We have a laundry basket, babe.”
“Yep, sorry, forgot,” he noted almost robotically. This happened weekly and, no matter how many times you reminded him, he was going to keep forgetting. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t going to sweat in the clothes again. 
He heard you distinctively moan some more in the background but he was so focused on that one sauce mark that he barely processed what you were saying, answering your questions with half his attention on you.
“When did you bring these back?”
“Two days ago.”
“Two days ago! Do you not smell it?”
“No.”
“My god, what is this mess? What’s this stain?”
“Probably the burger I ate with the team.”
“Your towel has another stain.”
“Oh, Eiji spilled his soda on it.”
“What’s this box?”
“Engagement ring.”
It didn’t register with him what he just said. It was another answer to another question, nothing else. It was only when the silence weighed heavily in the air that he turned to check on you.
You who were standing frozen in your spot, velvet box still in hand and eyes the size of saucers. “A what?”
Aomine blanked out then. How in the fuck was he supposed to get out of this situation? He wanted to do this properly, the way that you deserved. It wasn’t as if you were a die-hard romantic who needed roses spread across their apartment, but he certainly wanted to give you something equivalent that you would enjoy. A gesture that you deserved for all the time you spent putting up with him. 
So he thought of the next best thing. “For my friend. Um, he asked me to pick it up.”
“Daiki, I know all your friends and I don’t think any of them have significant others.”
“It’s a distant friend, he did it to not be suspicious.” 
You shrugged, shoving it back into his bag. For a moment, he could’ve sworn he saw a flash of hurt across your eyes. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t brought up marriage before, but it’s something Aomine had always waved off. Perhaps you were instantly convinced, a dream close to your fingertips but still out of reach. 
“I lied,” he quickly blurted out, getting up from his seat to approach you and pluck the box from your hands. He ran his thumb across the smooth cover, taking in a deep breath. “This is for us. For you. I wanted it to be a surprise, but I also want you to know that I am serious about you, no matter how many times I joke about it. You... mean the world to me and there’s nothing I won’t do to keep you by my side.” 
He watched your lips part in surprise, a revelation that had struck you to the core. Aomine, who had been so adamant that marriage was nothing but a lie, was thinking of proposing. You could feel your brain shortcircuit and it seemed to show on your face.
Aomine chuckled, ruffling your hair, “Don’t look so shaken. I’m not going to do it now. Like I said, it’s going to be a surprise so I’m not going to ask you now. But just know that I will ask you—and ask you properly. When that time comes, you better be ready to say yes.”
You smiled, “I’ve never been readier for anything.”
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violetnotez · 4 years
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Is the this the longest fic Ive ever written? Yes. Does it suck? Also yes. Will nobody read it because it makes no sense but Im still going to post because I wasted way too much damn on this thing? TRIPLE YES.
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Word count: 10.4k words (she thicc)
Genre: Angst and Fluff, sfw
AU: Fantasy AU!, Hanahaki disease
Prompt: “How could your keep this from?”
Warnings: blood
Summary: You are born into a worls where you must marry your best friend, Prince Shoto, in order to unite your kingdoms in harmony. You are happy to marry your childhood friend and love, until he leaves for a quest unannounced, and you are left questioning if you really want to marry him. Once he returns a few weeks before your planned wedding, you begin to not fall in love with him, but one of his comrades- the barbarian, Bakugo. 
*this is for the even for @bnhabookclub​! Heres the link to the post if your interested!
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Again. welcome to the shitshow that is my blog. read at your own risk cause this gets REAL WIERD REAL QUICK
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Petals-all you could see were the petals.
Your mouth and  throat felt so dry, your forehead damp with sweat as your back convulsed painfully, raspy coughs wracking out of your chest as you forced the petals out of your body.
They were so pale, like creamy vanilla, a stark contrast from the droplets of your blood splattered on the delicate buds.
You quickly reached for your handkerchief, wiping the residue off your dry mouth in fear of it dribbling on to your white dress-your wedding dress. Your hands were shaking, unable to cry any more tears at your misery-you had come to terms many weeks ago that you were going to reach an unhappy end.
Why did it have to be him?
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You were the princess of your kingdom, destined to marry Prince Shoto of the neighboring kingdom. It was something you two had been accustomed to from birth- in order to connect  the two kingdoms and end the quarrels between the two civilizations, you had to marry. It would be a harmonious marriage: Prince Shoto was kind, soft spoken, and a natural born leader. You two had been wonderful friends as siblings, your fathers putting away their troubles in order for you two to get along. They were hoping that by making you friends at a young age, you would learn to grow feelings for each other.
 For a time, it worked-you had fallen for Prince Shoto, his soft yet powerful demeanor making you  blush each time you remembered him, your young hands writing your name with his last in your journal like a prayer. At 13 you already began to count down the days until you would turn 18, because on that day, you were set to marry your predestined lover- Shoto Todoroki.
For years you had felt so lucky you were blessed with such a sweet boy to be with, being able to live out your lives harmoniously and in peace, something both your parents didn't have the luxury to have. It sometimes left you feeling frustrated- Shoto was truly kind, but very quiet about his thoughts. Your love felt one sided, Shoto seemingly only tolerating you because he had to. 
Once he got older, he became more distant towards you, clearly wishing to rebel against his father’s wishes by being distant towards you. It hurt you immensely to see your best friend and crush plainly reject you, but you still held on to the hope that you two could be happy with each other. Yet all that changed when the Prince had left for a quest.
He had been gone for what seemed like an eternity and for a time, you were extremely worried. You could barely focus on your studies, only imagining your poor friend somewhere cold, hungry, and alone. You knew he would be fine, he was a resilient fighter, but yet you couldn't help but allow the worrisome thoughts to collect in your brain. After news that the Prince was in a neighboring kingdom, safely traveling with a young boy, a witch, and a warrior, you felt at ease- with all those comrades, he was sure to be safe. You finally breathed a sigh of relief, able to calm your anxieties after a long time of being unable to.
 Information continued to trickle in, sometimes good and sometimes bad, but it always stated that the Prince was spotted safe and sound. You took solace in that information, and for awhile, you began to worry less and less about Shoto, until he was barely a memory.
During that time, you had begun to take on the habit of reading. Before it was a task you simply did when forced or extremely bored, only reading books and stories from your own kingdom. 
With so much extra time on your hands waiting upon the Prince to return, you began to learn of other stories, ones that were trully a delight to you: stories of nomads who traveled the country and did rituals to bring them fortunes, women who sold potions by gathering mystical ingredients from the woods, people choosing their own destines and their own paths. It intrigued you- from birth you had one mission for your life: to unite your kingdoms. Once you married Prince Shoto, your destiny would be complete: and then what would you do? You had no other purpose, except being a symbol of that peace for the rest of your life, sitting pretty on a throne until your last breath. 
It began to eat at your insides, gnaw at your conscience that you were merely a pawn in your father’s legacy. You could now fully understand why Shoto had been so defiant: he had realized the truth of his life as well.
Slowly, you began to learn to dread instead of anticipate your wedding day. With the Prince being gone, it was sending quite a ruckus in your home, your father more annoyed with each passing day that the Prince had not come back. You, on the other hand, rejoiced. The kings had both agreed at your times of birth that if anything happened to either child before your 18th birthday, the agreement would be cancelled and the marriage no more. They would rely on their children to fix their broken ties. 
You had just turned 17, the mental clock beginning to tick  in you and your father’s minds, as the Prince still wasn't back form his quest. Just a few more months, and you would both have your wishes: Shoto seemed to have no interest in marrying you, and why should you even for that matter? You two truly didnt love each other- your friendship was a hoax your fathers had created in order to save their own legacies. Your love for each other was man-made and a lie. Just a few more months, and you'd be free of this terrible fate.
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The day you turned 17 and a half, you were busying yourself on your plush pink bed, reading another novel about free spirited women in a far off land.
“Princess y/n,” your hand maiden opened the door quietly, afraid of disturbing you, “the King would like to speak with you.”
You gave your shy handmaiden a small smile, delicately marking the spot in your book as your feet landed on the cold floor. 
“Thank you,” you replied, “Ill be there shortly.”
You entered your father’s study, his feet stomping the room heavily as he paced in deep thought.
The room was grand, a golden chair sitting in front of an old ebony desk, the room surrounded by maps, battle plans, and bookcases full of legends of stories written long before your time. Light flitted through long windows against the wall, looking out to the rural countryside and a matching red carpet run the lengths of the stone floors.
Your entrance seemed to have disturbed your Father’s train of thought, his head instantly looking to see who had interrupted him. Once he saw it was you, he sighed, greeting you with a tight smile.
“You wished to see me Father?’ you asked politely, your fingers tugging nervously at the sleeves of your dress. Your father never called upon you unless it was extremely important- had you done something wrong? You wracked your mind for any actions that would had been unwise for your father to find out, but to your surprise, you couldnt think of a single thing you had done.
“Yes, yes,” your father said hastily, waving his hands toward a small wooden chair at the foot of his desk, “please-sit. We have much to discuss.”
You sat on the hard chair, a chill traveling your back as you watched your father sit in his plush throne, his face clearly tired.
“As we all know, Prince Shoto has been on a quite a long quest for some time,” your father began, his voice deep with annoyance, “and has not come back. And with your 18th birthday fast approaching, and it worries me that the boy wont be back in time for your marriage. I have talked to King Todoroki about my worries,  who also had the same fear, and he promised to bring the boy back and end his little shenanigan. But Shoto refuses to leave until his quest is complete.” 
Your father took in a deep breath through his nose, his face a mix of anger and agitation.
Your heart beat excitedly- the prince wasnt coming back? The news bounced happily inside you, giving you some hope that you needed- that must have been why he had gone on that quest in the first place! Even though you were excited, you felt a tightness in your chest- you were childhood firend after all. He really didnt like you that much that he felt he had to run away?
“Oh dont look so solemn daughter,” your father comforted, his voice soft with sympathy,” Shotos father allowed the boy to finish his quest in 5 months’ time, and he is forced to return to his kingdom. In the meantime, we can not forget the whole reason for your marriage like young Todoroki has- you must connect the kingdoms in order to bring harmony.``
“Which is why,” your father added, “we must begin to plan the wedding.”
Your head shot up, the feeling of shock flooding your body. It was still going to happen? Your body began to feel heavy, your father's words fuzzy against your ear- you didn't want this, any of this. You felt trapped like a songbird in a cage, unable to scream out what you desperately wanted to say: if he didnt love you, you didnt want any part of this.
Your father seemed to not notice the look of terror on your face, continuing to inform you of his plan. “We already have sent out invitation to relatives and noblemen in other countries, as well as begin to plan out the festivities. It will be a 3 day event, full of food and parties and, of course, the celebration of our kingdoms coming together. The closer to the date, we will begin to need you for fittings of your dresses as well as rehearse your wedding vows and such. I promise I will make this as wonderful as I can, for you are my only daughter.” 
The king smiled at you, wrapping your stiff body into a hug. You could barely feel his embrace- the world was numb to your screaming mind. You wished upon everything in you to end this, to make this all go away, but you knew you couldn't- you would be forced to do this whether you wanted to or not. 
You simply nodded your head to your father’s parting words, and then ran to your quarters, shutting the door and ceremoniously throwing yourself on your bed in defeat.
--------------
For days you felt numb and broken, all fight leaving your body. You watched as all your handmaidens and servants ran like chickens around the castle, preparing for the enormous festivities coming in close time. You were a good and proper princes, silently placid and allowing everything around you to happen.
 Flower arrangements, samples of sweets, and  fabrics for your dresses all came to you, and you agreed to all of them or just randomly choose. You could care less for your “special day”- the only thing you could truly hope for was prince Shoto ignoring his father’s wishes and not coming back.
That, of course, was a wishful fantasy. You were having a blissful dream when your hand maiden barged into your room, clearly too excited to be considerate of your sleeping state.
“Miss y/n! Miss y/n! Oh please wake up! There is most wonderful news!” she cried excitedly, gently pulling the covers off your body, “You must get ready at once!”
“Prince Shoto- he is back from his quest!”
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The whole of the kingdom rejoiced at the news, since he had arrived a month before the wedding. He was here, ready to marry and unite the kingdom. That was all that truly mattered.
Your handmaiden dressed you in your most elegant gown, the icy aqua color bringing out the rosiness of your cheeks, as she placed pearly ornaments in your hair. You felt like you were being presented as a gift to the Prince, a reminder of what he was destined to do. You sighed, dreading having to reunite with your once friend and secret love.
Shoto was standing in the ballroom of your castle, very accustomed to it since you both played here occasionally as children. He was used to the golden floors and the crystal chandeliers the sizes of boulders, all hung gracefully in a row on the ebony ceiling. Him and his company were standing shoulder to shoulder, facing the polished staircase cascading towards them.
He looked at his new found friend’s faces, their expressions clearly in shock. Izuku, his face ruddy with dirt and his cheeks aflame from nervousness as he twisted his shirt between his fingers (a nervous tick Shoto had noticed).  Uraraka gawked at the room around her in awe, her wide eyes drinking up the scene in front of her. Bakugo was least impressed, his arms crossed in front of his exposed chest and his eyes formed in judgmental slits.
 Shoto had told the others before why he had to go back, but only after the quest was over- he wanted to help his new found friends, and after promising to help them in their battle, he would have felt extremely guilty leaving them behind. 
Their reactions were mixed when he revealed he had a marriage in a few weeks time- Izuku was clearly shocked yet in awe hed be marrying a princess, while Uraraka seemed to find the situation romantic. Bakugo simply laughed, mocking him from being such a “sissy” for actually getting married in the first place.
Shoto was feeling conflicted inside at the moment- it had been so long since he had last seen you, and when he had, he was less than kind to you. He was quiet, distant, and quite petty about the whole situation of your marriage. You had turned barely 17 when he left, his young body desperate for some adventure and resilient to his father’s wishes. He merely saw you as a nuisance, someone in the way of his freedom. He knew it was unkind and unjustified, you didn't know what was going on inside him, but he was angry nevertheless and desperate to leave. So when he was approached by young boy in need of a friend for his quest, it was hard to resist the offer.
But as nights when on and he had time to be alone with his thoughts, his mind always seemed to travel to you. The way you giggled, your laughs sounding like chimes in the wind, or how your smile always seemed to make his skin tingle with warmth.
 You were always a strange girl, but always in the best way, daring Shoto to races even thought your father said it was “unlike a princess to do so” or trying to braid Shoto’s mix-matched hair.
 He would never forget the day he had allowed you to do so, your nimble fingers soft against his skin and making him burn up from nervousness. Your touch was so calming and soothing, your small compliments and soft voice sending his soul soaring with pleasure. It was then he realized he had loved you for you, not because he was forced to.
Shoto felt guilty for forgetting those cherished memories in his fits of anger, but he had agreed to help Izuku and he vowed to not give up on that promimse. Months went on, and Shoto couldnt tell how much time had passed: he only hoped you were doing okay without him. 
It wasnt until his father had came to collect him that he realized how short he was on time. He had still stuck by his friends, yet the constant reminders of your wedding was in the air, haunting him. They would travel through kingdoms, the whispers of this event following him as the townspeople began to talk. It was a wonder his friends never caught on except him, only to find out weeks before your wedding.
Now Shoto was standing in the ballroom, feeling quite nervous- he hadnt seen you in so long….would you look any different? He was certain your beauty had grown by then, the thought of you looking older and more womanly bringing a blush to his cheeks. How would you see him? He had become quite a different person on his quest, his body becoming more hardened from battles with bandits and the harsh life of travelling. Would you feel the same for him still? Were you just as excited as you were so many years ago to finally be together?
Shoto heard the clicks of shoes on the wooden floor, a man with the straightest back he had ever seen standing proudly at the steps of the stairs.The man took a deep breath, his voice traveling through the room as he announced your arrival to the group of travelers. 
Yet Shoto didnt hear a single word he said- he was enraptured by your beauty. You had seemed to turn into a fine young woman since he had last seen you, your curves accentuated by the tightness of your gown, the blue complimenting you perfectly. Your hair flowed in soft ringlets on your back, the pearls in your hair like stars. You were an angel blessed to this planet- an angel he was destined to marry.
The only thing that was worrying him was your expression- he had expected you to seem so much more lively, welcoming the bright smile you would always give him when you saw him. But now, your face was gone of any warmth, looking almost numb to the situation as you looked down at the group.
You traveled down the stairs, hating the way your name sounded in the announcer's voice. This was all so cliche- the Prince comes from a quest, and there is the Princess, simply a prize for his hardwork. A trophy of sorts for doing a good deed. Why did it have to be this why? Why couldnt you feel anything? The world had felt so cold for so long, feeling trapped due to the lack of control you had. Everything had seemed to loose its splendor and color, your vision for weeks turning gray in sadness-
Until you saw him.
The ash blonde boy, his hair unruly and his eyes a bright red like blood. He was clad in strange clothes, like a barbarian, his chest completely open and showcasing his taut muscles. You were intrigued by him- you had only seen likes of him in books and stories you read. He was so different, so menacing, and you wanted to know more. He was the only thing you could focus on, not taking any time to look at the others in the group, including Shoto.
Shoto was the first to reach you, unafraid to approach you like the rest of the group as you reached the bottom of the steps.
“Y/n-” he said, his voice deep and airy, “you look-wonderful.”
You gave him a small smile, but it made his heart sink- you didnt look happy at all. It seemed forced, far from the bright grins you used to send his way all the time.
“As do you, Shoto. You look quite different from when we last saw each other.”
You quickly turned your attention away from him, focusing on his new comrades instead.
 “I assume these are the young heroes that accompanied you on your journey?”
“Y-yes!” the young boy with the unruly green hair stuttered, nervously bowing his head. He was quite adorable in a way, his small stature and freckles dusted on his cheeks giving him a child-like quality (even though he was most likely your age). “My name is Izuku Midoriya!”
You gave a reassuring smile to the young boy, trying to make him feel comfortable.
 “It is wonderful to meet you Izuku.”
You began to walk towards the girl know, her pointy yet colorful hat signaling that she was a light witch, a sorceress who used your powers for good.
The girl shimmied in her dusty boots, clearly as nervous as the boy. She lifted the corners of her cloth dress, bowing slightly. 
“My name is Ochaco Uraraka, your highness,” she smiled sweetly, her cheeks dusted in a pinky glow.
“Ochaco…” you mused over the name, its sound foregin yet light on your tongue, “you are a light witch, I assume?”
“Yes, yes I am!” the girl practically squealed, relief seemingly flooding her face. ‘How did you know?”
You giggled a her amazement at you, completely unaware apparently that she had the most witch-like outfit you had ever seen.
“A lucky guess,” you shrugged your shoulders playfully as you began to walk again, your heart beginning to race as you edged toward the barbarian.
You stopped in front of the man, his stature a head taller than yours. You eyes looked slightly up at him, your cheeks reddening- he was much more handsome up close, his rugged features making you feel breathless. He un-apologetically judged you with his vermilion eyes, looking you up and down with scorn.
Why did you find that so attractive?
“And you are-” 
“My name is Bakugo.” he instantly interrupted you, his voice deep and velevty like syrup, “thats all you need to know.”
“Bakugo?” Your brain searched for any name similar to that, but found none- this boy was definitely a foreigner, most likely from far off lands you could only dream of. You had no idea why he followed Shoto back to the kingdom, but you were happy he did- he was definitely a sight for sore eyes.
“A warrior, I assume by your garments,” you nodded, your eyes trailing to his torso “and by the looks of your scars, an experienced one.”
He scoffed at your observations, his eyes rolling in his sockets.
“For a princess, your eyes wander a damn lot. But yeah- Im hella of a good warrior. Best in the kingdoms.”
You cocked an eyebrow at his language, your cheeks red  by his comment. He was so unapologetic and rude, yet- it was intoxicating to you. 
“I’m glad to here that.”
Shoto was eyeing you sadly the whole time- what was so different between you two? Why did you seem so welcoming to the others but so distant to him? His face began to turn red with fury as he watched you interact with Bakugo, the way Bakugo insulted you so plainly and cockily making him want to yell. He watched as your face had light up for just a moment when you spoke with him, something Shoto didn't get the luxury to experience. 
He also noticed what Bakugo had vocalized- you eyes did wander when you looked at him. Shoto at first tried to rationalize that you were simply being curious, since Bakugo was definitely a strange sight for you, but the way your cheeks blushed and you smiled so warmly at him made him think otherwise.
 What did you see in that barbarian that you didnt with Shoto? 
You looked again at the odd group, taking a deep breath through your lungs.
“I want to congratulate you all for your successful quest,” you began, the lines slightly rehearsed, “and as thanks from my father for bringing back Prince Shoto, he would like to welcome you all for dinner tonight. We  would love to hear all about your journey then,” you then snuck one last look at Bakugo, his eyes boaring into yours. It was making you feel a warmth inside that you had thought long ceased.
You instantly looked down at your hands, your cheeks feeling hot. You knew this was wrong- you shouldn't feel smitten for any other boy, especially this warrior, yet you couldnt help it- you were entranced by his resilience and the freedom he had, something you could only dream of. 
“If youll excuse me, I have - things to attend to. It was a pleasure to see you all” you gave the group a tight smile, turning your back quickly from the group to follow your handmaiden back to your quarters.
Shoto watched you until you were gone, his heart beating painfully. He wished he could run up to you, grab you by your wrist and ask you what was the matter. It was still him, your friend for all those years, and you were still you, his love and his best friend. Were you beginning to forget, like he did? He felt his stomach drop painfully at the idea- he would ask you, tonight. He would figure out what had happened between you two, and fix it.
--------------
You were now at dinner, sitting stiffly as you moved your food around your plate, your tight corset making you feel un-hungry. All night you had been detached and quiet, feeling almost sick by your surroundings. Your father was overly outgoing to the guest,giving you side-eyed glances and trying to enter you in the conversation. You would simply smile and nod, occasionally throwing in a comment before returning to squishing your food between your utensils.
The only time you ever seemed interested was when Bakugo would speak. His comments were all snarky and rude, completely self centered about how strong or intelligent he was.
 He was constantly proving his worth throughout the dinner, taking over the story of their journey when he saw fit, making sure everyone knew he was the most capable one of the group. It was obscene, his remarks, his language, even his personality, but- you were intrigued by it. The only person he had to listen to was himself. It was so intoxicating to watch him talk, to hear what other remarks would leave his mouth. Whenever he spoke, you stood up a little straighter, taking time to take in any information he gave about himself and immortalize it  into your brain.
Shoto had felt awkward the whole meal, not knowing how to gauge your emotions. You seemed so distant, as if a stranger was sitting next to him. He wished he could enter your mind, detangle all the emotions and thoughts that were keeping you from being yourself around him. There was no laughter, no genuine smiles, no happiness came from you. This bothered him- you were usually so cheerful. His nervousness was eating the inside of his stomach, as his mind still couldn't figure out how to approach you after dinner.
“-and the wedding will be a three day celebration, full of festivities,” your father continued boisterously, his voice booming embarrassingly around the room, “Shoto and y/n will be the main attention, of course, over 200 noblemen will see them share vows-”
The sound of your chair pushing away echoed throughout the dining hall, making the whole group look to you. You cleared your throat delicately, a hand resting on your chest.
“Excuse me for my rudeness, but Im feeling- unwell,” you sighed a quick smile.
“Are you alright, do I need to-” the king asked, his eyes full of concern as you shook of his worries.
“Oh no, Im completely fine- just a headache,” you gave a pained smile, “I hope you all enjoy the rest of the meal.”
Shoto watched you walk away, desperate to make sure he knew which way you went in this large castle. He instantly pushed away from the table as well, rising quietly. 
“I- uh-am full, thank you for the meal,” he bowed to the King slightly, placing his napkin on his plate as he rushed out, confusing the group that was left.
Izuku and Ochaco looked at each other, their cheeks red with embarrassment and shock as they looked at Bakugo, who was clearly not bothered by the disturbance. Ochaco then looked at the king, who was clearly confused by the whole ordeal, as an awkward air lay heavy on the table.
Ochaco hastily took a large bite from her plate, filling her mouth with food- “MMMMMM!” she exaggerated, trying to start up conversation again, “I LOVE the ham!” 
------------
Shoto ran around the castle, looking through every corridor and door, searching for you.His head was racing, trying to organize his thoughts in his minds. He needed to figure out how to speak to you- should he act normal, like nothing was wrong? Should he be formal and see how that went? Angry? Upset? He didnt know how to approach you, but he knew he had to do it.
 He finally saw your gown turn an empty hallway, his feet picking up pace. He quickly was able to catch up once he could pin point your location, his hand wrapping around your wrist in order to stop you. 
 You felt slender,cool fingers wrap around your skin, making your body run cold. You instantly jumped by the sudden touch, all breath leaving your body as you turned around quickly.
Your wide eyes met the mix matched orbs of Shoto, a small pang of annoyance filling your body from getting so scared.
“Shoto,” you replied breathlessly, slightly happy though it was only him and not somebody else that had grabbed you.
“I-uh-y/n,” he replied back, his mind going blank.
He let go of your wrists, his hands resting at the side of his body. “I-Im sorry to scare you like that,” he apologized, “I just- wanted to speak to you. If you’ll let me.”
You looked at the boy, his eyes now averting yours, probably from nerves. You decided to listen, turning your body to him. 
“Apology accepted,” you said plainly, “What did you want to speak about?”
Shoto drew a blank- what did he want to talk about? He loved hearing your voice, finally only reserved for him, but yet you seemed preoccupied. Distant. Like you were on another world and not truly there with him.
He stared at you lightly, looking extremely conflicted. “I-I wanted to talk to you about what happened while I was gone.”
“You explained quite plainly what happened on your journey,” you replied, clearly not in the mood to talk, “I applaud you for your bravery, it must have been quite a difficult journey-” you gave him a small bow, your eyes gone of any warmth. “I really must go to bed, Im sorry, but i do feel-”
You began to walk away again, Shoto desperate to keep you near him. He walked in font you, blocking your path.
“You didnt here me correctly-” he changed his wording this time, trying to be as specific as possible. “I want to know what happened to you while I was gone.”
You eyebrows turned down in confusion. “What are you trying to say Shoto?”
He swallowed, trying to clear his dry throat as he licked his lips, conflicted. 
“You seem-different.”
“Its been a year and a half since I last saw you, Shoto,” you reasoned, “of course Ill be different.”
“Yes, but-” he paused, “youre too different. Youre not the same y/n I knew.”
“Why? Because Im not following you around like a love sick puppy?” Annoyance began to bubble inside, feeling attacked by Shoto’s words. “Because I finally got over the fact you didnt love me ? You dont have to pretend Shoto, I know full well you only see me as a nuisance.”
Shock flooded Shoto’s system as your icy words pierced his skin. What happened to you? Yes, he was rude to you before he left, but he didnt feel like that anymore. That was a simple phase, were you going to define him by that?
“I dont see you as a nuisance, y/n.”
“Really?” you scoffed at his words. “then tell me why your father had to go out to find you twice before you finally decided to come back?”
“I made a promise to my friends. I had to finish my quest before-”
“You had a promise to me, Shoto!” you yelled exasperatedly, your heart bursting with hurt. “To your family! To my family! Our people! What was so much more important than that?”
“I was so worried about you Shoto, terrified for you. Those first few months I couldnt think of anything but you.” You were beginning to reveal a lot, too much, but the emotions, the hurt, the anger, was flooding out of you like a broken dam and you couldn't stop it. 
“But then I realized that you didnt care for me. You thought I didn't notice how you gave me the cold shoulder those last few months? How you ignored me,  only gave me quick answers, acted as if I was just a pest following you around? I remembered all of it, and then I realized- you left because of me.”
“You left because of me, didn't you, Shoto?” your voice was harsh and crude like metal, stabbing into Shoto’s conscience.
He stayed silent- how could he say anything back? Your words were making him feel small and foolish- he should have known that you would have noticed his change in demeanor, just as he noticed yours.
You smiled painfully at his silence, feeling a fresh cut of pain slash inside you. “I knew it.”
“Y/n, I-” There was so much he wanted to say, things he wanted to take back. He didnt want this meeting to go like this- with you even more distant to him. Out of all the possible outcomes, this had to be the worst one. 
“Dont even try to backtrack Shoto, I know the truth now,you just confirmed it.”
He knew he was less than kind to you before he left, but know it wasnt like that anymore. Why were you so angry?
“Fine-yes-I left, and it wasnt right,” he admitted, his voice deep, “but Im back. Why are you putting my old self against me now?”
“Because I couldn't for the year and half you were gone! I-I loved you Shoto, and you-”
“You dont love me anymore?” Shoto looked down at you sadly, his eyes full of sorrow. It felt like his heart was breaking in two, the way those words spilled out your mouth so easily making it sting even more.
You swallowed, filling a pit grow in your chest. Everything felt so cold, so empty. This was your best friend- why couldn't you just be nice to him? You thought you had gotten over all this.
“You dont love me-so  why should I love you?” your voice was barely a whisper, cold and empty in the frigid hallway.
Shoto stared down at you, his voice caught in his throat. Did you really believe that? That he didnt love you?You had been friends since children- you really thought all those times, all those days you played together, were all fake? Who even were you?
“I just want you to know,” you spoke, your voice monotone and  icy,” Im not doing this for my father, or your father, or even you. Im doing this for my people and thats it.”
“It” meaning the wedding.
Tears began to prickle your lashline, confusion flooding your numb body as you began to walk away from Shoto- 
you hadnt cried in what seemed like forever. 
Why were you now? 
“Y/n, please, can we just talk-” he tried to reason, harsh with desperation. 
“No.” your voice was plain in its tone that you were done with the conversation.
 “Im just curious Shoto- why did you come back? Because if I had the luxury to have all that freedom, to be free for once- I wouldnt.”
Shoto’s heart felt broken  as he watched you walk away, your dress ruffling as you continued on your path. He felt defeated, confused, even angry- what had happened to you since he had been gone? Did you really hate him that much? What did you mean you had no freedom? More questions flooded his mind than what were answered, but he now knew one thing- you didnt want anything to do with him.
As Shoto’s was returning to his corrdiors sadly, you were lost in thought, just feeling- empty. You didnt feel sad, or angry, or even spitefu anymorel. Just- numb to the world. You could walk for miles and miles it seemed and you wouldnt feel a thing. 
Why was that? Why were so mean to your long lost firend? You should be hugging him from happiness and relief-not meeting him with coldness and hate. 
As you were lost in thought, you didn't even notice yourself running into a person. Your hand instantly reached out, meeting soft yet rough skin. You looked up in confusion ,and your breath hitch- it was the barbairan, his vermilion eyes like rubies as he stared down at you in scorn.
“Oi, watch were your going you damn princess,” he scolded,pushing you off him gently. You stumbled slightly, trying to get your footing right- you had run in to him, you had even touched him. If you were feeling alright, and if the circumstances were different, you could practically squeal. “Youre gonna hurt someone.”
“Did I hurt you?”  
He scoffed at your comment. “Like you could ever hurt me,” his voice was deep and velvety, his comment sending shocwaves into your system. The reply was prideful, yet it could have been- sweet. Kind, in a way in a different light- maybe he meant it like that?
“How do you know that?” you blurted out, a small smirk crawling across your lips.
You just wanted him to talk more, to hear that velvety voice directed towards you- but you were close to flirting with him. What were you doing? What was going on with you? 
One second you were chewing out your life time friend weeks before your wedding, and now you were being smitten with a random man you didn't even know.
He chuckled slightly, his canines glinting. “Your a fucking handful, arentcha?”
He eyed your wobbling feet, as you still were finding your footing slightly.
“You clearly cant walk right-you feeling fine, because Im not gonna be the one who carries you-”
“No, no , Im fine.” you reassured, your cheeks rosy. ‘Thank you for catching me.”
“Youre the one who ran into me.”
“You could have just pushed me off though, you seem like the type to do that,” you gave him a cheeky grin, it disappearing when you heard a slight growl come form him.
“The hell you mean princess?” he was trying to be menacing, but you could tell there was something behind it- he was curious. You loved how he called you “princess”, making it sound like a pet name than  a title.
“Your a lone wolf, are you not? You are strong, independent, free-” you began to list off, your eyes focusing on his, “you follow your own code and beliefs”
“Damn right I do,” he agreed, your heart soaring that he looked so proud of you for describing him so perfectly. “-which is why Im confused as hell that half-and-half prince is allowing himself to get married.”
Ouch.
The small amount of hope that Bakugo seemed to like  you had quickly got destroyed, feeling hurt flood your body. You quickly tried to shake it off, so Bakugo couldn't see it on your face.
“What he even want to talk to you about anyway?” The boy shifted in his stance, his muscles moving with his movements.
You gulped, guilt filling your body- Shoto, the one who had just fought with. You couldnt tell this boy what had happened- that was private, and really, it was embarrassing.
“Just-uh-about-” you stammered, your cheeks red as you searched for a lie.
“Ugh, let me guess, you two were trading spit werent you?” he interrupted in disgust, taking your red cheeks as a sign you two were doing something unholy in the hallway. 
You swallowed, licking your lips as you gave him a tight lipped smile. You were just going to follow along with Bakugo’s line of reasoning- you didnt have any other better ideas. 
 “Y-yep, just- please dont tell anyone?” 
He gave a bitter laugh, his voice booming against your ears. “You guys cant get dirty? I guess that makes sense, since you all our royalty, cant be having any scandals-”
“Do you promise?” you rushed him, now feeling uncomfortable- if anybody heard you and Shoto were kissing in the hallway, and you two were really arguing-
“Yeah, dont worry princess, youre secrets safe with me.” 
You sighed a breath of relief, feeling your heart jump at the smirk the boy sent your way.
“Thank you- I- uh- best be going now,” you stammered, rushing past the warrior, “have a nice night Bakugo.”
You rushed to your room, your heart feeling on fire. Your hands were shaking, your mid racing- all you could think about was that boy. Your world had seemed so dark, until he showed up. His rude responses, his chaotic personality, his snarkiness, that overly prideful speech, his freedom- it was so intoxicating to you. You felt your heart pumping against your chest- you hadn't felt this alive in so long.
You suddenly felt very sick, your head feeling drowsy- maybe you were actually catching something, and thats why you were acting so strange? You were gasping for breath it seemed, your corset making it hard to breath. I felt like something was tightening around your chest, small prods poking into you from the inside- it was a strange sensation, one you did not welcome in the slightest. You stumbled to your bed, holding on to the post as your lungs felt tight with no air, liking something was blocking your passageway. Coughs began to erupt out of you, wracking your body until you finally felt you could breathe. You sucked in a deep breath, welcoming the sweet night air, your chest still feeling tight. You looked down at the ground, trying to slow your stammering heart, until your eyes feel upon something new- a single white petal, resting softly on the ground.
------------
After that night, You became obsessed with this boy, learning bits and pieces from him though conversation you had overheard from Shoto’s friends and workers inside the castle. You learned he was from an extremely far off land, past even the Mountains, which surprised you. He lived alone, and apparently had a dragon as well. He had  gotten in many fights due to his overly prideful personality, which was why he had so many scars decorating his taut body. Your handmaidens seemed to look at him with annoyance, saying he refused to wear anything “civilized” and would plainly cuss them out if they even set foot in his room to clean.
You knew he had a softer side though- he had kept your “secret” safe, right? You heard nothing around the castle about any make-out session or argument between you and Shoto. That little act made you feel special in someway- maybe he had a soft side for you?
Whenever you would feel yourself getting sucked into the sadness of planning your wedding, you’d think of fantasies with that barbarian boy. Him taking you in the middle of night, taking you far away from this place. His hands placed around your waist, that snarky smile looking down at you again.
 Seeing him walk around the castle grew a desperation and love in your body, watching his handsome face stare around the rooms, his voice loud and prideful- you wished he could look your way, acknowledge you again. His vermillion eyes sent fire into your soul whenever you closed his eyes, his face being a beacon of warmth in your life.
Yet that beacon of life was killing you from the inside- every day and every night you fantasized about Bakugo, the sickness taking over you grew worse and worse. The closer you got to your wedding day, the worse it felt, the vines inside you prickling at your soft organs. They were growing, you felt it, as you coughed up more and more petals. 
For a few days you had no idea what was going on, fear striking you as you wondered if you should ask to see a doctor. But you decided to do your own research, scourging through books until you found your sickness: Hanahaki. The the mythical disease for unrequited love. It was quite rare, but it came to the most lonely, delusional, and desperate of lovers.
 It made sense, really- it all started when you talked to Bakugo, after falling in his arms. It hurt he didnt love you back- but why should he? One run-in shouldn't make people fall in love with each other, but somehow it made you. You welcomed the pain alittle, as it was a reminder you still had some feeling other than emptiness inside you. It also terrfiied you- you were supposed to be in love with Shoto, not some barbarian from a far off land you barely spoke to.
  How had this happened, how could you let this happen?
Even if you did tell others you had Hanahaki, they would point the finger at Shoto, calling him cold and callous for not loving you. You were the one who was the cold one, pushing your old friend away. Even if you felt some residue of anger for him, you wouldn't put him through that- he didn't deserve it. You let this disease do its course- if it went away youd be freed, knowing that Bakugo loved you back, and if not- well, you’d figure that out when you got there.
You had barely talked to Shoto or even noticed him since that night, not realizing the amount of worry he felt towards you. Everyday that went by he noticed how sick you looked, your skin paling and you eyes losing any life. Every cough you tried to hold back he noticed and it rang in his ear like a terrible siren- there was something wrong with you.It ate at his insides, his fear of you pushing him away again making him scared to ask what was wrong.
------------
It was now the night before you wedding and you were feeling less than hopeful. You were supposed to be lively and happy, as your father had thrown a party to celebrate the events of the next day, yet you had no energy left in you to dance or socialize. You stayed in a dark corner, trying your best to blend in and not be noticed.
 The coughs were not leaving, and it felt like your chest was being constricted until you could barely breathe. The annoying tickle of a cough was constantly at the back of your throat, as you tried to keep the petals at bay. You were miserable.
“Princess, are you doing alright, you seem a little- pale? Do you need some water, or maybe fresh air,” the young witch Ochaco approached you, her rosy cheeks and bright eyes looking at you.
“Hello, Ochaco,” you greeted, your smile strained, “you know-fresh air would be nice.”
The sweet girl smiled at you, gingerly taking you by the crook of your elbow and out of the ballroom. The fresh air was rather nice, soothing your hurting brain and your sore lungs. You two walked in silence for a while, enjoying each other’s company. Your mind was shifting around, thinking about Shoto and what would happen tomorrow. It hurt too much, though- you still were both not at speaking terms, and now you had to be promised to each other for eternity. The thought made your throat itch even more, and instead, you  switched to own of your many fantasies of Bakugo that brought you some comfort.
“So, how are you feeling? Nervous, excited, scared?” Ochaco asked gingerly
“About what?” you asked, looking at her with curiosity
“Uh,um-your wedding,” she giggled nervously, her cheeks growing red again. 
Oh-you cursed yourself for getting to invested in your fantasy, feeling embarrassed for thinking of Bakugo and not about Shoto.
You really didnt know how to answer her question-You felt yourself dreading it-how could you tell her that? But you didnt want to lie to her- lying to her would be practically evil, like giving a child a promise and not fulfilling it.
“Its expected of me to marry him,” you reasoned out carefully, “Ive been thinking of this day since I was a child.”
She gaped out you in awe. “Really?That early? In your kingdoms is it a tradition to marry from each other’s kingdoms?”
You gave her a wihsful smile. “Actually- no, it isnt. We’re the first ones.”
Her brown bob fluttered against her cheeks, her eyes staring up at you in confusion.
“I-if you dont mind me asking,” she asked nervously, “why is that?”
You sighed, giving her a small smile.
“Its kind of a long story….”
------------
“Long ago our two kingdoms began to quarrel against one another. But that happened years back- we still continued to fight against each other, and quite frankly, we forgot about why. We just knew we hated each other and wanted to see the other fail. My father had always said to me that my mother wished for her children to be born in a peaceful kingdom, yet my father’s pride prevented that from coming true for her.
“Until the day I was born- my mother, sadly, died while giving birth to me. My father now had no queen, and really, no future ruler, since I am a girl and only men can become ruler in my kingdom. In his grief, he began to feel sympathetic, I suppose- he knew King Todoroki had a young boy who was barely turning 4, and my father got an idea. He travelled to his kingdom, and somehow was able to talk King Todoroki into an agreement.” 
“In order to end the suffering of our two kingdoms, Shoto and I would marry once I turn 18, in which would bind our kingdoms forever in peace, with Shoto as ruling over both.”
Ochaco breathed out a large sigh, giving you a conflicted expression.
“So-thats why you two are getting married? Its arranged?”
You looked at her in confusion-“Didnt-Shoto tell you that? I thought Bakugo at least knew-” 
“Bakugo?” Ochaco blinked a few times, clearly puzzled. “Bakugo just thought it was quite, well, wierd Shoto was getting married- Bakugo is just a lone wolf who cant understand love I guess-”
You strangely felt angry at her words- how could she even say that about him? Yes, he was cold and callous at times, but how could she know he couldn't at least love? You knew he had to at least have some way of having feelings for another person, you had to at least hope for that-
“-it must be why he left last night,”
You stopped in your tracks, feeling a ton of bricks pound into your chest. 
“He-he left?
“Um yeah! Something about being ‘bored waiting around for a stupid’- oh my gosh, y/n are you alright!?” 
You were coughing up quite alot, your lungs dry and painful as your heart tore in two. He-he left. Without you. Without even a goodbye. 
After all that daydreaming, all that hope, that dedication to him, hoping he would notice you- he left. He never loved you, and you knew it- you were just so desperate for someone to take you, to teach you how to be free. 
You wanted him to teach you, to see potential in you that you could be just as defiant to the world as him. 
Uraraka wrapped her slender arms around your body, patting your back softly to help you rid your body of whatever had attacked you. It was taking everything in you to not let a single petal fall out, the itching in the back your neck unbearable as your heart beat agonizingly against horribly. 
You felt a few silky petals slip out of your mouth, soft against your dry tongue. Miraculously, Uraraka didn't suspect a thing- most likely from the darkness she couldn't see the disease overtaking you.
You gulped desperately for air, finally getting a hold on your lungs. 
“I-Im fine,” you panted out, raising from the floor on shaky knees. “Thank you”
Urarka gave you a pointed look, clearly not convinced. “Of course, but are you sure? Do you need water, or maybe I should get Shoto-”
“No!” you yelled out, covering your mouth in case of another attack.
You felt a little guilty for yelling at Uraraka so harshly, her wide eyes looking at you in shock-you just couldnt bear seeing Shoto when you were grieving over a lover that was never yours- and apparently dying from it too. 
“No, Im fine, really,” you said more calmly, trying to be reassuring, “lets, just- walk back, if thats okay-”
“Yes of course! Ill walk you to your room, just in case you get sick again-”
You two walked in silence again, you mulling over your broken heart as Uraraka watched you in worry. You two passed the ballroom, everyone seemingly enjoying themselves and not noticing you two as you lead the way to your room. 
You stepped up to the door, your hand grasping the doorknob until you paused, a question entering your mind. You were still confused why Uraraka said she didnt know your marriage was arranged-you would have expected Shoto to have told his group after saying he was getting married. 
Was he embarrassed by it, that he was marrying you?
“You said you were surprised to here our marriage was arranged,” you asked quietly, “Shoto never told you?”
Uraraka shuffled in her pink boots, her shoulder hunched close to her chin.
“He-uh-no,” she breathed out, “he said he made a promise to marry a girl he loved.”
-------------------
Morning. 
Daylight.
Wedding.
You should be feeling happy, excited, optmistic-you had been imagining this day since you were a child. But now, all you could feel was a coldness you couldnt seem to shake off- after your talk with Uraraka last night, you felt so confused.
The person you “loved” had never loved you, leaving you sick and hurt.
The person who did love you, you most likely pushed away to the point where they didnt love you anymore.
You couldnt even understand your emotions yourself. All night your sickness wouldnt leave your poor lungs alone, making you cough uncontrollably all night, the petals piling up around you.
You wouldn't allow anyone to see you in the morning, snatching your wedding dress from your hand maidens and putting in yourself. You fixed yourself up, trying to make yourself look as lively as possible, but it seemed impossible- you felt too empty inside to really put your heart into it.
Another round of coughs attacked your chest, a single petal dribbling out of your mouth, along with a speckle of blood. It dripped on the inner folds of your creamy white dress- easily disguisable if you made sure it was covered- yet it made you begin to cry.
What was going on? Why did you have to do this? Why were you still sick?  
Your knees hit the cold floor, wave after wave of tears and coughs struck your body in a terrible symphony, the petals piling up on your dress. 
You couldnt take it anymore- this sickness was going to have to take you, because you had no energy left to fight it anymore.
You felt a knocking on your door, the sounds harsh against your temple. You sniffled, one last cough feebily spilling out of your bloodied lips.
“Go away-I promise Ill be out soon-” you began sadly, until you heard the door swing open.
You looked up, your face in shock as you did not lock eyes with your handmaiden, but with Shoto’s.
He looked around the floor, noticing the bloody petals, his face completely torn-he knew what was going on.
Shoto stared down at you, his eyes boaring into yours-he knew something was wrong with you. He had came by your room in hopes of fixing your relationship before speaking your vows, working up the courage until he heard you crying. No matter what was between you two, he wouldnt let you go through pain by yourself.
Now he watching you cough up your life, those sickly petals flowing out of you, each one taking a toll on your body.
He gasped out your name, the words like honey as he sat next to you on the floor. You looked so beautiful in that white gown, like an angel from heaven. 
But the paleness of your skin, the bags like bruises under your eyes, the blood on your lips- it all reminded him that you were human, and you were hurting inside. He reached for your hand, his fingers grazing your skin-so cold- but you pulled it away quickly.
“Please, dont Shoto-” you whispered hoarsely, “Im-”
Another wave of coughs wracked at your chest, this time the rasps painful against your chest as the vines squeezed. 
Shoto didnt know what to do- how could he help you? There wasn't anything he could do to help, except watch his best friend and love slowly cough her life away. A few petals cascaded out of your mouth, adding to the piles as you heaved air back into your lungs, your knuckles white.
“How, how could you keep this from me?” he asked sadly, ignoring your pleas and pulling you into his lap.
You felt how warm he was, and realized- he did love you. He had been there for you as a child, and he was here for you now, comforting you in your worst moment.
Your heart felt like it was exploding as tears cascading down your face, salty and warm against your skin.
“How-how could I Shoto?” I shuldnt have been so mean to you,” you sobbed, “Im so sorry, so sorry, this is all my fault-”
“Please, no, dont be sorry,” he said softly, his arms cradling your body, “we both have our own faults. I shouldnt have left you for so long, and Im sorry for that, I-” he gulped, his heart beating harshly against his chest.
“I-I do love you,y/n, I do.”
You picked up your head, forcing yourself to look at him- he was so handsome, his mix matched eyes softly looking down at you- he was still the little boy you knew from a child, though, always so calm and sweet.
“I know, Shoto, I just, I-” you gulped, fighting to keep the coughs and sobs at bay.
He sighed, feeling his heart sink. 
“You loved Bakugo, didnt you? Thats why,” he motioned to the petals, “this is happening to you.”
You gave him a shocked look, your eyes wide and glassy. You forgot how observant Shoto could be- you felt your cheeks grow red, realizing now he must have known by the way you stared so much at Bakugo.
“Was-it that noticebale?”
“Y/n,” he sighed, his chest feeling heavy, “very.”
You giggled at his remark, feeling strange for laughing for once. But Shoto was so abrupt with his words, it always made you laugh at his remarks.
 Shoto’s heart soared at your laugh, the sound like chimes against his ears. It died down, the room quickly feeling closed in again.
“I just dont want to do this. I-I want to be friends again. To figure out who were are, without us being forced to be with each other.” you sighed, your heart rattling against your chest. “ I-I want to be with you and marry you- when we decide. Not my father, or your father- I want to be free to choose.”  
You turned to Shoto, your hands touching his cheek.
“I-I did love you-and I still do-Im just so confused, and trapped, and-”
“You just want to be your own person,” he finished your sentence, his voice so much stronger than yours.
He looked down at you, his face surprisingly smiling.
“I think I may have arranged that,”
You jumped up, your face in shock. “H-how? Tell me!” you squealed, not unilke a child, your eyes wide with anticipation.
Shoto grinned at your face, loving how excited you could get so quickly.
“Do you remember my oldest brother?” he asked
“Of course I remember Natsuo! He was always so kind to me as a child,” you reminenscenced, “but how is he going to help us?”
“Well, as it turns out, I spoke to our fathers and my older brother,” he said, a small grin on his face, “they agreed that my brother could rule both kingdoms in my place. By himself, and my sister will accompany him if he ever needs help.”
You sucked in a lung full of air, unable to believe what you had just heard-
 “So that means-”
“We are free to  do what we want now.” 
You yelled in happiness, happy tears cascading on your face as you wrapped his body around yours, “thank yous” spilling out of your lips.
Shoto hugged you back, smiling sadly- he had to admit, it was hard negotiating that new deal. After the night, that remark of how you didnt feel “free” stayed in his brain, haunting him until he found a solution. Knowing it would make you happy made it worth it- even if that meant you could leave him now. He loved you, but if that meant you could be happy with or without him, he would be content with the knowledge that you were finally able to be your own person.
“You can now be yourself,” he said sadly, his eyes staring down at the floor, “and even if that means you do not love me, I accept it. You dont have to feel guilty.”
You looked at the poor boy, his eyes shaded as his bi-colored locks cascaded onto his foreheads. You felt a warmth fill your chest, the sensation soothing and calming as the tightness in your lungs dissappeared. The tickling in your throat seemed to wane slightly. Your hand found his as his eyes instantly rose to meet yours.
“I wont feel guilty,” you smiled gently, “I want to be free- with you.”
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Taggings: (if you want to be added, just shoot me an ask or a reply on this post and Ill add you on to my future fics!)
@freckledoriya​ @orokayagi​ @leeeah-loooser​
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quitetommy · 5 years
Text
sickness and health- even before the big day
so like the ending is trash because i didnt know how to end it and i didnt wanna make it into a series but hope you enjoy!!!! this is doctor!tom!!! so im warning yall that this is all about injury and its loosly based off greys anatomy so if you cant watch that then you probably shouldnt read this but anyways- enjoy
ALSO DONT FORGET TO CHECK OUT MY WRITING CONTEST! ENDS JULY 31!!!!
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Tom’s days were long, they went from early mornings until late into the night, when the sun was no longer apart of the equation. Usually, the young doctor’s life was hectic and he could be found running around like a chicken with its head cut off, but today was different. 
Today, Tom found himself sitting back and chilling (for the lack of a better word) with his mates. He knew the unspoken rule of never saying that it was quiet because then all hell would break loose, and to be completely candid, he was perfectly fine with how his day was going, especially for the fact that in 10 short minutes he would be walking outside to join his fiancee. The two hadn’t had a date night in awhile, due to Tom’s crazy schedule, and they were more than happy to take his free night and spend some time together. 
Breaking him from his thoughts, Tom’s buddy, Harrison spoke up, “Hey mate, what’s Y/N got planned for you tonight?”
Tom felt his thin lips stretch into a wide smile, showing off his teeth. “Not sure. She did say something about going to buy groceries for my favorite. We’ll probably just have a night in, which we both are-”
The curly headed boy was cut off when a shout was heard through the small ER. Both Tom’s and Haz’s heads snapped to the man running in. He was covered in blood and he looked beyond scared, he was carrying an almost unconscious girl. And from where Tom and his mate were standing, they couldn’t tell that it was his beloved Y/N. 
“Please, someone help!” His shouts of panic put the two boys into action, Tom sprinting to the man and woman and Harrison running to grab a gurney. Tom had snatched a pair of blue gloves off the counter as he ran over and was now snapping them onto his hands. “Okay sir, everything is going to be alright. Can you tell me what happened?” 
Harrison was now back with the gurney and Tom was taking the injured woman from the man’s arms, still looking at the stranger, he asked again, happy that he answered. 
“I-I don’t know. Some guy-! Think it was a robbery! She wouldn’t give ‘im anything, so he just started beatin’ her and then took off with her wallet.” Tom nodded along to his story, ready to ask the man if he was hurt himself but then his friend called his name, fearfully. 
Turning around, the handsome doctor lost his breath. He felt like he had been punched in the chest. Now that her hair was moved from her face and she wasn’t hunched over in a stranger’s arms, he was able to see who the young girl was- his girl. 
She was staring up at Harrison with wide eyes, she hadn’t seemed to recognize where she was or who she was looking around for someone, probably Tom, and was crying out. It looked like she was having trouble opening her mouth and Tom felt his heart break into two. And with a heavy heart, he yelled out, “We need some help over here, now!!”
Getting Y/N onto the backboard was easy, so was getting the neck brace on her. The hard part was keeping her still- that and keeping Tom at arms length. All of the doctors, even though they were friends, were continuously yelling at him to stay back. He refused, that was his girl, he wasn’t going to just not help her. She would move mountains if she could help him the same way that he was helping her. 
Everyone was talking at once and Tom felt like his brain and throat were being squeezed in a vice. He heard someone say, “Send blood for a crossmatch.” Haz, maybe?
He heard another person say, “Belly is soft!”
And another, “Bruising on the left chest.” Tom was breathing heavily as he watched his girl frantically look around the room. She was still crying, her mouth still clenched shut. “Pulse is down to 88, I’ve got a line going in now.” 
Tom heard the doctor curse loudly, “Her vein is collapsed. I can’t get it in.”
Another doctor answered, “Try a central line.” The doctors working on his pretty girl were talking nonstop and listing off her injuries and with every word, Tom felt his heart break a little more. Leaning over his girl, but staying out of the way of the working doctors, he said, “You’re gonna be just fine. You’re gonna be fine, alright?” 
More doctors rushed in, each working on their part of the body, and he blocked out all the things they were saying. Tom was grateful that he worked at such a good hospital, that his girl had the best team. The vice around his throat clamped shut when they decided to move Y/N. Her screams were loud and full of obvious pain as they worked on her- moving the poor girl to her side, putting in tubes, cleaning up her wounds, setting bones. With every single thing they did, Tom felt like his heart was going through a meat blender. He couldn’t stand it. 
One of the doctors- a neurosurgeon- asked, “Y/N, honey, I’m gonna need you to move your fingers for me. Can you do that?” When nothing happened, the room seemed to stop, and she asked again, “or- or your toes.” Nothing. It was like she hadn’t even heard the critical request. Tom felt his heart stop when the thought crossed his mind- she couldn’t hear. 
She couldn’t hear anything. 
The brain know-it-all stated this time- no question in her voice. She was demanding. “Come on. Just come on. Wiggle something.” Tom shook his head as he lifted up a heavy hand and snapped next to her ear, and then reached across and did the same to the other. And when nothing happened, when she didn’t respond and just kept on groaning in pain, he said, “Guys.”
When none of the doctors stopped to listen, he said, louder this time, “Guys, I don’t think she can hear us!”
“What?”
“What? Are you sure?” All of the doctors paused their work for a fraction of a second. The heavy hearted boy grabbed a light and started to look in her ears, calling out her name. He was hoping he was wrong, but unfortunately, he was right. There was obvious damage to her eardrums. “She can’t hear anything we’re saying.”
Then everything took a turn for the worst and Tom felt like he was going to throw up. Hsi heart was in his stomach and he was on the verge of a panic attack. The machines that were hooked up to his pretty lady started beeping in wild succession. A doctor concluded, “We are gonna have to intubate.”
Another well trusted man said, “her jaw is locked. There’s no way!”
The head of plastics said, “If I can reduce the swelling, you can get one in.” he paused and looked at Tom, then back to the injured friend, “I’m gonna have to pop her jaw.”
Tom was in hysterics. “No way!”
“I have to! It’s gonna hurt like hell, but I’m sorry, I have to.” And before he knew what was happening, he was being held back as he watched in pure agony. He watched as the doctor placed his thumbs in her mouth as best he could and as Tom fought against his friend that held him to the wall he shut his eyes, not wanting to see her in any more pain. Perhaps that was worse, though, because he could still hear the loud yell of pain that his pretty girl let out and Tom felt nothing but anger. Anger because his girl was hurt and anger because he couldn’t do anything to help her. He was just beyond angry. 
It was only hours later when Tom let himself be in the same room as her. When he finally stepped foot in her private suite he forgot how to breathe again. She looked horrible. She had bruising around her eye, it turning shades of purple and yellow. Her jaw was wired shut and she had a feeding tube going up her nose as well as a bandage wrapped around her whole head. Tom felt his heart drop to his stomach, he spoke, eyes down, “Hey, love.”
With no answer, he looked up to find Y/N looking at him with curious eyes. “Can you hear me?” She stared still, so he sighed and pointed to his ear and she shook her head. The lovesick boy felt his heart drop even further, if that was even possible. Realistically, he knew her hearing would come back and that the bruising would fade and that she would get better, but he was still feeling like he would always remember the feeling of seeing her so hurt. So broken. So defeat. 
He couldn’t bear it. He wouldn’t. So for now he pulled over a chair and held her hand, comforting her without words, comforting her with all his love. Because that was his job as her future husband.
Taglist; @spider-bitten @bi-writer-in-the-dark @marvelouspottering @quacksin @friendscallme-emily @smexylemony @tom-hollands-eyelash @tomblrholland @spidey-pal @lovelyh0lland @spideymood @positiveparker @positiveparker @procrastinatingparker @your-daily-dose-of-fangirl @Bodakcello @sleepybesson @spideyshcllands @its-the-unknownspidey @tomshufflepuff @aestheticgaybish
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mini-pretzel · 5 years
Text
a while - namgi
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Genre: BEWARE OF ANGST, also light fluff
Music: reminiscer
Additional tags: depression mentions, also mentions of mutual pining, Namjoon is too sweet im crying, Yoongi is an emotional softie
Word count: 2k
A/N: namgi is slowly consuming my life. help.
Yoongi's has always buried his depression.
And his feelings for Namjoon.
Yoongi knew that it would happen again. Every time it let go of him, it was only for a short period of time. A few days after it would always return, bearing that weight of helplessness that he has grown accustomed to in his everyday life.
Whenever it would visit, he would try to seem okay around the guys, but he knew how that never came across as, well, normal in their eyes. They would usually notice a change in his demeanor whenever it would take him, having lived together for so long. They knew he was no stranger to such dark thoughts and emotions, but he hated feeling like a burden to the group, so he would bury it until it would dissipate into nothingness. It was simpler that way. No drama, no therapist visits, no scandals, no bad PR.
That’s how things went.
“Wow, I can’t believe we won another award.” said a soft voice--Jimin’s probably--full of surprise and amazement.
They were sitting around in their living room, jackets shed and spread on the couches, with some of the members already showered and in comfy sweats.
“Yeah, we’ll need to get another trophy case if this keeps up,” another voice said and a chaotic laughter followed.
Yoongi could faintly tell who was talking, but he was feeling like slowly he was slipping more and more away from the conversation and into a blank void that was absent of emotion. The thing inside him was starting to pull at him and Yoongi felt his hands growing increasingly antsy in lap. He really needed to dissociate. Only in being by himself in his room could he truly go through all the motions of the apathy that was starting to plague his chest.
He somewhat understood that he needed to shower and get change out of his award show suit, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care. All he wanted was to curl under a blanket and pray that it swallowed him whole.
“Yoongi-hyung, you alright?” he heard a concerned voice of Jimin who was sitting beside him, but the elder just smiled tightly, eyes absent, and waved him off. He really needed to get away from the guys so as to not ruin their mood. They had just won another important award, and while he usually took his time looking at every little piece of detail the trophy had, that was the last thing on his mind as the sickening feeling in his chest softly whispered that none of it mattered and he really needed to be by himself.
“I’m fine, Jiminie, it’s just been a long day.”
The younger man pouted, his plump lips looking even more full, but didn’t pry further, which Yoongi found himself thankful for. His problems are the last thing that the guys need to focus on at during a happy time like this.
Speaking of which.
Yoongi slapped his knees as he rose from the couch, drawing attention from everyone around him.
“I’m heading to bed,” he announced to the group, trying to sound as normal as possible.
Jin and Jeongguk looked up from Jin’s phone, where the oldest, no doubt, was showing the youngest a funny video. They both said goodnight, but the air suddenly felt stiff in the room. Taehyung made a movement to hug Yoongi and he backed away before the taller man could envelop him into his bone-crushing hug, and somehow that only made things more suspicious.
Namjoon, with his smart eyes looked like was about say something but Yoongi purposefully ignored looking his way knowing how the taller man made his heart skip into his throat every time, making his crush painfully obvious. And he really, really did not want to deal with the inevitable rejection and awkward stares when the thing was rearing its ugly head. He could only deal with one thing at a time.
“Goodnight, everyone.” Yoongi said curtly, before speed walking upstairs and disappearing into the darkness of his room before anyone could stop him and question him on what was wrong.
As soon as he was secluded in the privacy of his room, he sighed heavily and stripped down to his boxers, leaving his suit in a small little pile on the floor before slipping into his bed.
Yoongi immediately folded his body into a fetal position as he brought the covers closer to himself. It was only there, under layers of blankets, where he could let go and cry as the thing inside his chest cavity wrapped a slimy grasp around his heart. There, in his little space, away from everyone else in the world, he would let it slowly devour him without retaliation, because there was nothing he could do. There, he could give up. There, he could hate himself. There, he could-
A soft knock interrupted his flow of thoughts and because it was so quiet in his room, as Yoongi has always been a silent crier, he could hear it clearly as if someone was beating down the door.
After a few moments, the knock returned, this time with more urgency, and Yoongi heard himself groan as he untangled his limbs from the sheets. He sluggishly stepped toward the door, his whole body feeling heavy, and opened it just a crack.
“What?” he said, wincing when his eyes were hit by a yellow brightness from the hallway light. He hoped he sounded grumpy and annoyed, and not pathetic like he felt.
A familiar pair of observant eyes looked back at him and it made Yoongi felt even more naked than he already was.
“Yoongi, are you alright?”
He felt Namjoon’s piercing gaze send a shiver down his spine.
“I’m fine.”
It was a blatant lie, and Yoongi knew Namjoon saw right through it.
“Can I come in, Yoongi?” his voice was gentle, so gentle it made Yoongi grip the door handle tighter and avert his eyes from Namjoon’s, a sudden warmth spreading in his cheeks.
“Why?”
“Because you’re clearly not alright.”
“I said I’m fine.” the words were cold and devoid, but he felt a fire stirring inside him. All he wanted was to be left alone. No one else was supposed to deal with this.
“Please.” the pleading tone in his voice made Yoongi look up to Namjoon’s eyes and see the taller man’s hand gripping the door, itching it to open further. “Let me help.”
Yoongi choked out a dry laugh, finding the vague proposition absolutely ridiculous, but stepped away from the door anyway, and with it letting Namjoon into his room. The boldness of this man, really. It made Yoongi’s head spin.
Namjoon closed the door behind him and Yoongi heard the lock click, but avoided turning back to face the new intruder in his personal space. His cheeks were already on fire, he didn’t need the man to see them too.
“Well, now you’re here. What are you going to do now?” Yoongi started saying in his nonchalant voice, “What could possibly hel-” his words were cut off when he felt the taller man’s arms wrap around him in a backwards hug.
“How long have you been feeling like this, Yoongi?” he heard the younger ask against his ear and shuddered from the hotness of his breath.
“A-A while.” Yoongi decided to answer. He didn’t know why he was being honest with the man, especially when it was much easier to not say anything. Namjoon had that effect on him, he supposed. He could make anyone talk about anything.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” the arms tightened around him, pulling him closer and Yoongi could really feel the warmth of Namjoon’s body now through the man’s shirt, the realization making him swallow hard.
“Not your problem to deal with.” he stated simply, feeling every pump of his heart in his throat.
“Oh, Yoongi.” was the response. And why did it sound so soft and full of care? It did nothing to help his poor heart.
That’s when Yoongi realized he was pretty much naked save his boxers in front of the taller man who was holding him against his chest. Yes, his heart was definitely not going to be able to handle this.
“What?” he tried to remain calm, but a part of him knew that his heartbeat already gave away his true feelings under his calm demeanor.
“You can always talk to us about anything that’s bothering you. Your problems are worthy of a solution.” Namjoon whispered with mouth pressed so close against his ear, Yoongi could feel his lips move with every syllable. “Please talk to us when you feel like this, we will support you.”
Yoongi’s breath stopped in his throat and there was a burning sensation in his eyes.
“I know you’d much rather hold it all in, but it’s not healthy, Yoongi.”
Damn it, Namjoon.
“We care about you, Yoongi.” he felt those pair of lips he thought about to too often when he was in bed alone press a firm kiss on his temple. “I care about you.”
With that, Yoongi’s heart stopped.
Then, hot tears trickled down his face and his shoulders quivered from the overwhelming wave of emotion. Suddenly the slimy grip on his heart wasn’t as tight was it had been before, and Yoongi speculated it was because of the long warm arms that were wrapped around him, as if shielding him from everything unsavory and dreadful.
Yoongi brought up one of his arms to touch Namjoon’s forearm and his fingers gripping the skin harshly as if it was the only thing grounding him in reality, keeping him away from the darkness hidden away in the corners of his mind.
So many thoughts were inside his head, but he didn’t know how to voice them.
“Yoongi.”
Yoongi hummed for the lack of a better response, still dealing with the sudden outpour of tears.
“Would like for me to stay with you tonight?”
Stay? Stay as in-
“In my bed?” Yoongi breathed out, glad it was so dark that his blush could go unnoticed.
“Not necessarily. I can sleep on the floor,” Namjoon offered, “I just want to make sure you sleep okay.”
“B-bed’s fine.” Yoongi protested immediately. Why in the hell did he sound so damn nervous? It wasn’t like he hadn’t shared a bed with the guys before during their early debut days. Namjoon in his bed was not an unusual occurrence, but the pounding in his chest and the flush on his cheeks clearly showed that something had changed since their debut days.
He felt the taller man nod and pull away, before taking a step back and moving closer to the bed to raise the blankets so Yoongi could climb in first.
After Yoongi was safely tucked in and watching him, Namjoon shed his sweatpants and crawled in next to him, facing him.
As they stared at each other, Yoongi noticed how Namjoon’s face held so much compassion and longing that it made him wonder how long the taller man reciprocated how Yoongi felt about him. The faint moonlight illuminated Namjoon’s features and Yoongi felt himself slipping further into the whatever feeling he kept silencing and locking away deep in his chest for years.
It had all seemed unfathomable, ludicrous even. He didn’t even dare let himself think all those times where he saw the taller man staring at him for a little too long or laugh a little to hard at his jokes meant anything more than comradery.
For who could feel such affection for someone as broken as Yoongi?
“Yoongi.”
“Mm?”
“How long have you felt like this?”
Yoongi felt his heart almost leap out of his ribs. “A while.”
Namjoon tilted his head, that lovely dimpled smile forming on his cheeks. “Why didn’t you say anything about it?”
Yoongi smiled back. “Wasn’t your problem to deal with, Joon.”
The taller man laughed softly, “Oh, Yoongi.”
At that the smaller man pushed himself closer, eyes glued to the dark orbs staring back at him. Yoongi felt strong legs wrap around his thinner ones and a pair of hands dig into his hair, pulling him even closer until their bodies pressed together in the middle of the bed. And right there, in the warmth, hidden beneath heaps of blankets and barely lit room, one pair of lips met another.
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peterporkerpeter · 6 years
Text
Code Red P.VII [Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader]
SUMMARY: When the Avengers are given the mission to acquire a deadly weapon in the possession of a suspicious professor, Y/N must attend a gala in order to charm the professor’s quite dangerous son. Her date to the gala? None other than her crush: Peter Parker himself. That’s bound to make for an interesting evening
CONTAINS: mention of sexual harrassment (for like only a hot sec), blood, swearing, ANGST, FLUFF, peter parker crying oof
WC: 4.000 
A/N: i’m so proud of this chapter, it is my favorite one yet and i really hope that you guys like this one. i was listening to some good tunes when i was writing and it got me really in the zone lol. this chapter is extra long bc i was feeling like a generous bitch so i hope yall like it. im literally screaming. hope you have a great day/night! :) Also, some people have mentioned that the tag list isn’t working for them! I’m so sorry about that, and if i’m being honest i have no idea how to fix it lol
| ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE | SIX | EIGHT |
Y/N SLAMMED HER DOOR shut, violently throwing her heels onto the mattress. There were several things she needed to do, the first being to find a new, fresh pair of clothes to change into. Breathing heavily, Y/N shimmied out of her red dress, now stained with dark crimson splotches. She ferreted through her closet, ignoring the bursts of pain from her worn wrists.
She settled on a comfortable cream sweater and a pair of gray sweat pants, feeling better already. She rolled up the sleeves and headed for the bathroom, where she dunked her head down towards the sink, flipping on the faucet. It took a century and a half to get majority of the makeup off her face without irritating her fresh wounds too badly, the water turning a mixture of red, black, and brown.
Y/N patted her face dry, relieved that her skin could finally breathe. The cuts still stung like a bitch, but she couldn't care less. She was home in her room, clothed in something comfortable and no longer in imminent danger for the rest of the night. It was a breath of fresh air to her, not just her skin.
She tried not to think about the way she had treated her team earlier. She knew she was acting mean and impulsive, but the words kept spilling out of her mouth before she could stop them. She just couldn't bare standing in that living room after brushing close with death a handful of times. And her head—God, her head. It would not stop pounding, like someone was driving an ice pick straight into her skull.
The mere thought of Axel's face caused a tremor to spike in her heart. She glanced in the mirror, eyeing the injuries he'd given her as some sick present. The coldness in his eyes still left her afraid. She felt like an idiot, too. She knew something was off, but she still insisted with continuing with the mission regardless of her countering intuition. In some twisted way, she felt like part of it was her own fault. Maybe that's why she acted out—because she was ashamed.
She felt a chill run down her spine, Axel's ghosting touch still grazing along her leg, his hot breath nipping at her ear. It felt like he was on top of her, smothering he beneath him until she couldn't breath. She felt like she was drowning. She didn't want to think of what else a sadistic asshole like him was capable of. She just hoped her team would deal with him.
Warm tears poured down her cheeks, and she buried her face in her hands, wishing she could just stop thinking for a minute.
Y/N swallowed, shaking her head. She sniffled, then started to tend to her wounds.
THE TEAM ARRIVED HOME fourty-five later, completely drained and exhausted from the demanding evening. It didn't take long for Fury to send in a clean up crew and detain Axel. His father still remained in the wind, but there was no knowing if he was going to be charged for anything or not—at least not by S.H.I.E.L.D. considering the weapon was nowhere to be found. Peter had managed to create a pretty accurate cover story for the gem, not wanting Y/N to get punished for dealing with it on her own accord. He trusted that she knew what she was doing, and he would ask her about it later, just not when she was so vulnerable and upset.
Everyone was concerned for Y/N. She hadn't sent a message or any word at all regarding whether or not she was doing all right. Then again, they didn't really expect to hear from her. They knew she was in a quite sensitive state of mind, and they understood. They've all been where she is at some point in their lives. Pain was inevitable. Only time could tell when Y/N would finally realize that.
"Can we not come in tomorrow?" Clint grumbled rhetorically.
"Is Y/N asleep?" Wanda asked. "Someone needs to make sure she's patched up after the beating she took. And we need to make sure those wrists aren't infected."
"I got it," Peter muttered.
"The other guy looked worse," Natasha grinned sheepishly. "That broken coffee table in there? She slammed him down on top of it with her hands tied. She is a badass, and she'll get through this."
"She shouldn't have to," Tony murmured. His guilty conscience continued to give him a difficult time throughout the night. He knew he wouldn't sleep tonight—not with where his thoughts were. Not with the image of her wrists rubbed raw and bleeding engraved in his mind like a tattoo.
Tony turned towards Peter, whose eyes were beginning to droop. The poor kid looked utterly broken down, but he pushed through. All he wanted to do was see Y/N. The older man clasped a hand on his trainee's shoulder. "You did good today, kiddo. Honestly, the teens saved the whole day with this one. You both kicked some major ass. Props to you."
Peter shrugged, fingers tightening around the bag of Chick-Fil-A absentmindedly dangling from his grip. "Doesn't matter. Thanks, but . . . it doesn't matter. I-I don't know why she was so upset with you guys, if anything when I got there she just seemed sad—"
"And that's a normal response to a traumatizing situation," Natasha shook her head. "It's expected to lash out, especially out of shame or embarrassment. And she's still just a kid, Peter. She didn't have her powers, just what she knew from what we taught her. She was scared."
"She will come around tomorrow," Steve added. "Let her rest. Let her eat. It's best to leave her be. Someone will go in and check out her—"
"I can," Peter interjected. "She'll talk to me."
The elevator dinged, the doors sliding open to reveal the living room of the main floor. The kitchen was untouched, the cold granite countertops wiped clean the precise way they were before the team dispatched. Darkness embodied the room, silence enveloping the homey premises. Peter noticed the familiar outline of a girl standing outside on the balcony, her elbows resting upon the cement wall, eyes looking out amongst the humming city illuminated below.
"There she is," Wanda smiled fondly.
Peter's eyes softened, sparkling faintly in the darkness. A familiar warmth ignited within his chest, his lips parting slightly, curving up to form the faintest smile. It was soft like stardust. He was awestricken and intrigued and nervous. He noticed she was wearing a casual sweater and sweatpants, and she looked just as beautiful as she did earlier in her long, silk gown.
Y/N was nonchalantly manipulating a glowing line of orange tinted energy, watching cathartically as the color twisted to follow the smooth, fluid movements of her fingertips. She seemed at ease for the first time this evening since her and Peter shared their dance; he would give anything just to have her that close to him again.
He could still vaguely feel her lips pressed against his. He remembered the warmth that had curled around him like a cozy blanket afterward. The brokenness in her eyes when he last saw her hurt him more than he anticipated it would. He never wanted to see her like that again—bleeding, crying, fighting for her life. Never. He would do anything to protect her, even if that meant his own demise in the process.
Y/N glanced over her shoulder, exhausted eyes falling upon the crowd of people pouring in from the elevator. Her team looked entirely worn out from the intense mission, their bodies hunched and feet dragging wherever they wandered. Clint caught her gaze, the smallest of smiles creeping onto his face. He raised his hand into the air, offering the girl a wave. Y/N waved back with pursed lips and glittering eyes, then turned back around to face the open.
It was always a miraculous sight—the city. In the morning it was buzzing with light and intensity. Sunlight bored down on the cracked streets, cars lulling through frustrating traffic, people honking at their neighbors. The hues were of red and gray variety, shades of beige and powder blue adorning the graffitied walls and painted freight trains. Time was consistent during the day. It was never ending. It went on forever, and so did the people living within it. They got up at the same time every morning and hustled to work, took their lunch break at the bodega or crammed in their office, then went home and repeated the same damn routine all over again the very next day.
And then there was the nighttime, when blackness ascended over the city, and the tangerine sun slipped beneath the horizon. At night the city came alive. It was unpredictable and adventurous. You never knew what the city would do when the lights went out in the sky. Overbearing neon shades illuminated the large, glowing signs of theaters and cinemas, hotels and twenty-four hour diners. The streets were clearer, still littered with cars full of tired adults, hoping to get home to their beds for a few hours of sleep before they had to awake early the following morning.
Y/N could see herself in the city at nighttime, waltzing into unprecedented territories with nothing but a high adrenaline and a desire to see beyond vibrancy of its core.
But it was the transition from day to night that really got her—the part of the day when the stars were hardly out and the sun still managed to remain a glowing orb of glistening orange light in the sky. The stars were distant, like they were gently dusted across a canvas of baby blue, powdered on by a paintbrush like a Monet. There was so much going on in this hour, but the transition made so much sense to her. The more she watched and scrutinized the switch, the more she understood how much night and day were alike. As quickly as time moved during this period, it slowed. Time stopped here. Right on the skyline, the moment always stretching out to form a thousand more.
"Hey," Peter's voice broke her from the impenetrable wall of thoughts towering in her head. "I uh, I brought you food."
Y/N turned to face her friend, ignited eyes falling onto the bag of Chick-Fil-A dangling by his leg. A soft chuckle emitted from her scratchy throat.
"Thanks," the girl whispered. She grabbed the bag from his hands and set it on the nearby table. "How's the team?"
"Worried about you," Peter replied honestly. "And I am too."
"I'm just trying to not think about it at the moment. I've been trying to clear my mind," Y/N sighed. "I kicked that guy's ass, didn't I? Stupid Axel fucking Klein. Lucky you came when you did. I would've managed to kill him someway."
Peter shook his head. "No, you wouldn't have."
She cocked her head, furrowing her brows. "Yeah, you're right, I wouldn't have. But I wish I could. I wish I could kill him." A pause followed. The tension between them was thick—thicker than it ever had been before. She could taste it on her tongue. "So, what? The team send you out here because they know I'm a softy for you?"
Peter shrugged. "I-I volunteered. Tony bought the food, but I . . . I wanted to see you. I needed to."
Y/N stared into his eyes for a moment. They were soft and gentle, glistening like fragments of crystals. He somehow reminded her of the soft strum of an acoustic guitar. She found herself reaching forward for him, wanting to touch him during a circumstance that wasn't as vile and as graphic as the last. She wanted to touch him when she wasn't just about to immerse herself into a dangerous mission. She wanted to touch him when they were alone together with the unpredictable, haphazard rosy aura of the city during night.
"Peter," she whispered. She loved his name so much. She loved saying it. She loved hearing it. She loved hearing Peter.
Her hand caressed his jaw, the pad of her thumb gently grazing across the irritated cut on his cheekbone like the leaf of a swaying plant. She heard him release a shallow breath, his eyes flickering between the fragile placement of her hand and the bandages looped tightly around her damaged wrists.
"I thought I was going to die tonight," Y/N drew her hand away, feeling colder. Peter felt the same way. Peter always felt the same way. "I thought I was going to die in the hands of that . . . psychopath. You should've see the look on his face when he caught me in the car with his hands all over me. He looked so smug, so—"
"His hands were what?" Peter interrupted, anger flaring in his stomach. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip, red pooling in his eyes. He hated the guy. He hated him with every fiber in his body, and he wished he'd done a lot more to him than punch him a mere few times. No, he should've throttled him. He should've made him suffer longer, just the same way he did to Y/N. He should've—
"Peter," Y/N could sense his rage. She reached out to touch his hand, hoping to soothe the whirlwind of impulsive thoughts plaguing his mind. "He didn't do anything else. Not anything like you're thinking. He just had to get close so he could sedate me."
"I'm sorry. I-I wish I could've done more, Y/N, I—"
Peter's heart was racing. It was driving him insane, he had to tell her that he loved her. He couldn't wait any longer. He couldn't keep holding off for the right time—there was never a right time in the world to tell someone that you loved them, at least not in his world. In his world, death followed like a shadow with every risky move you made. In his world, witches were real and there was a living, breathing one standing right in front of him. There was never a right time for anything when he was Spider-Man, and there was never a right time for anything when he was Peter Parker because time always seemed to fade more quickly than it came.
Was now a right time to tell her? On the balcony of a tower overlooking the prospering, stagnant city below, right after her run in with death at the hands of some lunatic? He didn't want to take advantage of her, and he didn't want to scare her away. He would have to wait another day. He'd have to wait for the sun come up, then go back down again. Another day, another time, until finally it was the right time. Until finally he no longer had to wait.
"Peter, what are you thinking?" Y/N questioned.
"I-I—" the words were fading from his tongue. It was never the right time. "I don't . . . know."
Y/N tilted her head, perplexed by Peter's odd behavior. It wasn't like the boy didn't normally act odd, but now he was acting strange. He wasn't looking at her like a crippled, wounded animal or a damsel in distress desperate for a strong rescuer. He was just looking. His eyes were glazing over, but she didn't know with what. Was he sad? Angry? Frustrated with her? Tears leaked from his melancholy brown irises, slipping down his flushed cheeks. They glimmered like scattered fragments of moonlights.
"Peter, what's wrong?" she asked, her tone urgent and thick with worry. Her hands quickly moved to grab his arms, grounding him, letting him know she was there with him—as she would always be.
She waited patiently for him to respond, his sniffles filling the air. Peter didn't know why he was crying; he felt like complete idiot for doing so, but he just couldn't stop himself. The tears kept falling, streaming down his skin until they dropped from the bottom of his chin onto the ground. All he had to do was just feel her touching him, and suddenly he was an emotional kid. He wasn't Spider-Man or an Avenger. He was just Peter Parker. And Peter Parker had lost so much that the mere thought of losing someone else so important to him—he couldn't bare it. Not on top of the countless years of repressed pain and emotional baggage still anchored deep within his roots. Then to come too close to losing Y/N tonight . . . It was all too much to handle.
"Hey, Pete. You're okay. We're okay," Y/N's voice was soft like silk. Her hands ran soothingly up and down the length of his arms, almost as if she was warming him up after a long snowy day. "Talk to me, Pete."
"I-I just—I almost lost you tonight," he professed, and the words began to tumble out at the same rate as his tears. "And when I saw you in there, I just couldn't stop thinking . . . about what I would do if you . . . I just couldn't stop thinking. And-and thinking and thinking. And then I knew right then and there that I would never let myself lose you ever because I need you, Y/N. I need you more than anything."
Y/N's face melted, her eyes shimmering at his trembling words. They fell so seamlessly from his lips. Her stomach churned, empathy burning bright within her core. She felt the same way. She felt the same way about Peter Parker as he did her, and she felt the same way yesterday and the day before that and the day before that. She always felt the same way. She always would.
"I need you too, Peter," Y/N assured him strongly.
She grabbed his face, pulling him down so she could press her lips firmly against his damp cheeks. She peppered them along his skin, electrifying him with every touch, anchoring him further and further towards the ground, onto the winding road leading towards the glamorous city buoyant with tranquil life. She held him tight, and she would never let him go. Not now, not ever.
"No, Y/N! You don't get it!" he sobbed, pulling away. "You don't understand why I need you!"
"Then just tell me! Peter, tell me. Why do you need me?" Y/N cried.
"I-I'm in love with you," he proclaimed, standing in a pool of his tears. "I'm in love with you, and I almost couldn't save you."
Y/N was rendered utterly and profoundly speechless by Peter Parker.
The nighttime is unpredictable.
"W-what happens when I can't save you anymore?" he whispered, like if he spoke those words they would magically come true. Almost like a spell.
Her forehead wrinkled, desperation contorted onto her features. She didn't really care about what the city would feel like during the nighttime anymore, not when the transition of day to night was still fresh in her bones. Not when Peter Parker was telling her he was in love with her. He wasn't infatuated. He was in love. And that felt like time wrapped up in a perfect little bow.
Y/N placed her palm against his chest, feeling the rapid pace of his beating heart. She ran her hand up the back of his neck, Peter's eyes shining with her every liquid-like movement. He let his lids drop, wet lashes gluing together. She closed her eyes, gently pushing his neck down for his lips to meet hers. Time stops here. Her lips ghosted over his, her breaths quick and hot. Falling in love with Peter felt so painless, but suddenly she felt like she was on fire. Everything felt too real, too raw. Love seemed to operate quite frequently in the gray area of life.
"But you did. You can't think about the 'what-if's, Peter. There's always going to be 'what-if's." She whispered against his mouth.
Y/N closed the gap between their lips, the kiss soft and slow, her breath hitching dead in her throat. She couldn't grasp a hold on any of her thoughts as Peter gently reciprocated the kiss. She no longer felt any pain. She should've told Peter she loved him long before tonight. She should've told him she loved him before they left for the mission. She should've, but it just didn't feel like the right time. When did it ever feel like the right time? Time was more unpredictable than the city.
The kiss grew deeper, Peter's hand trailing up her body to hold her face delicately his calloused palm. He could feel her hands shaking like leaves on the back of his neck, her pants growing hasty as their lips entwined and tangled together. He could taste her so clearly now—something minty and reminiscent of cherries. It soon became his favorite flavor.
She pulled away, eyes still closed. She savored the moment for all of its worth. "Peter . . ." swift drawls of breath, "I love you too."
Relief and happiness fell from his lips in the form of unearthly laughter. A smile brighter than any sun or any hue covered both their faces before their lips collided once again. Peter's hands gently stroked down the length of her hair, taming the frizzy strands and smoothening the tousled pieces. Fits of laughter were muffled by the showering of intimate, fervent kisses. Peter basked blissfully in her ethereal beauty and slipped into a state of tranquility, knowing for certain that he did save Y/N, and she was here in front of him. Now. And it was the right time. He dropped his hands to her waist, allowing her to caress his angular jaw, her thumbs pressing affectionately into his cheekbones. The tears once wet on his face dried beneath the gasps of hot breath, and everything in the world seemed to succumb to the tenderness of their love for each other.
And even the city, as rambunctious as it was during the day, and as somberly alive as it was in the dead of night, seemed to sink into the earth, leaving time behind. Because when there was no time, there was no need to wait for the right moment. Not when the right moment could be every single one in a thousand.
Clint found himself walking across the living room at such a prime time. Somehow, he was always the one to walk in on Peter and Y/N, but this time, he did not interfere. He merely looked for a moment with a smile tugging at his lips, then proceeded towards the kitchen to fix himself a cup of coffee.
Tony soon joined him, hoping to find some leftover pizza crammed in the refrigerator. After all, he was going to be up all night—might as well not work on an empty stomach.
At first, he walked straight past the window, eyes casually glazing over the two figures passionately kissing on the balcony behind the sliding glass doors. As soon as the man hit the fridge, he had to backtrack, mentally rewinding what he actually saw. He relapsed his steps, Clint nonchalantly sipping on his mug, checking to see if the sugar-cream ratio sufficed.
"What?" That was the only word Tony could seem to coherently speak for the moment. He tilted his head to the side, pinching his eyes shut before reopening them again. Definitely not dreaming. "A-are they—?"
"Yep," Clint replied, pleased with his hot drink. He walked around the counter to join Tony staring at the balcony from the island.
"On the—?"
"Yep."
"Should I—?"
"Nope."
"Gross."
MASTERLIST.
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blatherkatt · 5 years
Text
Title: The Mockingbird of Whitestone [Critical Role]
Chapter 3: A Very Close Call 
Summary: Twenty years later, Vox Machina–or as much of it as can get to Whitestone at the time–reunite. It’s not their first time doing so, and they don’t plan on it being the last. It should just be another reunion.
But something completely unexpected throws everything into chaos, and leaves Vex’ahlia struggling with emotions she’d thought buried, and Percy trying to piece together the fragments of a very confusing puzzle.
Canon pairings, focusing on Perc’ahlia; warnings for minor blood in a later chapter and a whole lot of ruminating on a canonical major character death.
Author’s Note: The blood starts being a thing in this chapter; the tags on Ao3 will probably be updated to “canon typical violence” starting here, albeit that might be a little overboard but i mean better safe than sorry. also im so sorry this took so long but in my defense this chapter kicked my butt its a behemoth
Rating: T
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The next day dawned bright and beautiful, full of sunlight and birdsong and a gentle breeze. What should have been a perfect day for the Spring Renewal festival was quickly soured, however, by a visibly exhausted guard dejectedly relaying the news that they still had no idea where the goblins were.
There’d been a very tense early morning meeting with the town leaders and some particularly concerned visitors about what to do, one which Vex had felt particularly twitchy all through.She wasn’t alone in that much, at least; she could see various shades of nerves and anticipation across faces all around her, even hours later as she carefully patrolled the streets, the kids (all of whom save for Crispin had insisted on going out to the festival) staying close as they’d promised to (for now at least) and Trinket in his full armor bringing up the rear, ever watchful.
The light but tangible weight of Fenthras in her hand was a small comfort as she waited for the other shoe to drop. This time, at least, she’d not be caught off guard.
The day trudged on, each hour with nothing new making her feel more anxious. Her rounds and the whims of the excited kids had brought their group to the street outside the temple of Erathis, where she gave them permission to step away from her side for a while to play some of the games that had been set up along the sides of the road there, so long as they all stayed together and kept Trinket with them.
She leaned herself up against the corner of a building, outwardly resting but inwardly on the highest of alert. Gods damn the blasted goblins, this was supposed to be a time to have some fun after the long winter, not—not all this.
Worst of all, her thoughts kept straying back to that first encounter, and how easily she’d let herself think that—really, it was ridiculous, twenty years went by and the first time a vaguely sneaky stranger showed up, she immediately got her hopes up that somehow he’d be back and everything would go back to a normal that wasn’t normal anymore. It was, she was…
She really wished the damn goblins would just attack already. At least then she could take out her frustration doing something productive, instead of being stuck here just waiting.
All the while, as she thought, her eyes scanned the sparse crowd. Not as many folks were on this road, as most of the attractions would be in the main square, but it was about noon and even out here there was significant enough activity. Off to one side she spotted the three tabaxi from the day before, the one with tufted ears attracting quite a few eyes as he juggled and cajoled; the rust-colored one sat behind with their cart, his body slouched but his single eye and both ears on constant watch. A couple guards were gently escorting a drunken (judging by how heavily he leaned on the guards for support) beggar off of the steps of the temple. A farmer holding a pitchfork and keeping a watch of his own nodded to Vex as her gaze passed over him, whilst two children, likely his own, cheered as they won a prize from a ring-tossing game.
Even with her senses on high alert, however, a human still seemed to almost melt out of the shadows. On a reflex, she jerked to grab an arrow, but relaxed on seeing that it was only Kynan.
He cleared his throat with a nervous smile, still a touch hesitant after all these years.
“Sorry, I’m a bit on edge,” Vex said, taking another moment to quickly scan for her children. They were crowded around a game of some sort, with Tiffany, too short to see over the counter, pouting and demanding to be told what was happening. All safe for now.
“S’alright,” Kynan said. Then, growing more serious, he said, “Anything happened out here?”
Vex shook her head. “It’s all been about as quiet as it can be, during a festival,” she said. “I don’t like it. Anything to report on your end?”
In the two decades that had passed, Kynan had proved himself time and again as very capable, elevated to the council as of five years ago, in charge of law enforcement and wartime movements. He’d been very much on top of things in this particular conflict, for all the frustrations that had come up.
Kynan shrugged. “Nothing violent,” he said, “But there’s been reports of thefts and a few people claiming to have spotted something.”
Vex tapped her fingers restlessly against Fenthras. “Any patterns to the thefts? The first goblin was raiding our larder, after all.”
“Not really. The odd coin here and there, a necklace, a child’s doll. Strangest things to have gone missing is probably a bunch of perfume, but other than that, nothing I’d think worth raising any real alarms over.”
Vex raised an eyebrow. “I think we can safely say that one’s just some thief. What would goblins want with a bunch of perfume?” she asked, dubious. “What would they want with cooking herbs?” Kynan shot back. “Ugh, you sound like Percy,” she said, rolling her eyes. “And the sightings? What’s come out of those?”
“Not so much goblins for sure,” he said, shifting his weight. “People are jumpy. We’ve been taking every report seriously, but every time it’s turned out to be someone in a green shirt, or a blanket hung out to dry that someone spotted out of the corner of their eye. Old Jenkins reported that he saw a bunch of them at his trash last night, but that turned out to be a bunch of bears and a badger, which, uh, was pretty weird, but it wasn’t the goblins.”
Vex blinked. “Well, at least we finally worked out what it is that he keeps seeing, I guess. The poor man’s always claiming some monsters are lurking around his house at night.”  
“Tiff?” Crispin’s half-panicked voice rang out over the crowd. Vex stiffened. “Tiffany!! Tiff, you’re supposed to stay close, where are—did anyone see where Tiffany went? I swear I only looked away for a second—” She could see him, drawing Arthur near him, looking frantically around and grabbing at someone’s shirt, could see Trinket rearing up on his hind legs to better see over everyone’s heads.
It was probably fine, Tiffany wandered off sometimes, but now was the worst time to be doing so, gods. She didn’t blame Crispin for a second, not with four siblings to keep an eye on at once, but—fuck it, time to worry about that later, she exchanged a wordless nod with Kynan and stepped forward, looking around herself as Kynan melted into the crowd himself to search for the toddler.
As seconds ticked by, and the little girl didn’t appear, Vex could feel panic welling up inside her, heard it matched by Crispin’s increasingly hoarse shouts. Where was she, where was she, where—There! One of the passerby moved, and Vex spotted her daughter’s dress, saw Tiffany talking to a small, cloaked figure.
One with tattered green ears.
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Her hand found an arrow in her quiver on pure instinct. In that same, slowed-down moment, she saw the goblin turn, spot her with those giant, animal eyes, and jerk forward toward Tiffany, reaching out with those terrible clawed fingers toward her daughter—
The arrow was pulled taught against Fenthras’s string as easy as breathing, and with the familiar woosh of wind, sang forward, aimed to take the goblin right through its chest. Time seemed to restart, sound roaring back in as Tiffany wailed, and Vex wasn’t sure if her arrow struck true. Someone screamed, and as the crowd all reacted at once to the goblin’s appearance, someone ran into Vex’s line of sight again as she tried to push forward. She spotted the goblin thrashing in the grip of the vines of the brambleshot, saw Tiffany on the ground, sitting up, howling, saw the goblin somehow manage to wrench itself free of the restraining grip and dash down the alley just as Vex finally got to her daughter.
Fuck the goblin, she’d catch up to it later.
“Tiffany, are you okay? I got you, I got you sweetie, come here,” she said, scooping the crying child into her arms. There didn’t look to be any wounds, thank Sarenrae, she didn’t look to be hurt anywhere, no doubt she was just startled by the shock of getting attacked like that. She’d have the little beast’s hide for this, how dare it lay a hand on her daughter, how dare it invade her city!
Trinket thundered up behind her, nudging her back with his nose as she held Tiffany close, shaking with an intense terror and fury. The bear’s touch brought her back into now.
“Thank you, Trinket,” she said, softly, and then, louder, standing, she pointed down the alley, still hugging Tiffany tightly to her. “It went down that way! Go after it, I’ll be right behind you!”
The bear grunted and raced off after his quarry. For the time being, however, she pulled back. Kynan and a guard were carefully guiding anyone unwilling or unable to fight into the temple of Erathis. She saw Leo, Trissa, and Arthur herded inside, but Crispin was hanging back, still calling out for his sister.  
Vex darted over, shoving Tiffany into his arms—she was still crying, but she was alive, that was what mattered, she didn’t look wounded, no time to freeze right now—and pushed him towards the temple entrance. “Go, get inside, now!” she barked, before running after Trinket.
The trail was easy to follow, she noted with a grim satisfaction; she’d definitely landed a very good hit on the goblin, and a line of blood droplets clearly marked out where it had gone. The trail weaved back and forth, at one point evidently crashing into a corner; here, more blood had splashed down, too, and Vex spotted the back half of her arrow. No doubt the goblin had tried to remove it, and only managed to snap it in half.
Rounding a few more corners, she found Trinket urgently pawing at a wall. Near its base was a cluster of droplets large enough to almost constitute a puddle, and on the wall itself, a few telltale four-fingered handprints were visible on a drainpipe. Vex looked up just in time to see a tail disappear over the roof.
“Good job, Trinket,” she said, and then set about quickly climbing up herself, Trinket boosting her up as best he could.
The goblin was there, cowering by a chimney and hastily wrapping something around the arrowhead, which Vex could see poking out of its shoulder. It heard her climb up, and with a yelp, disappeared around the chimney just as Vex managed to fire off another shot, the arrow shattering against the stone. She swore, and gave chase as the creature dropped off the other side of the roof, somehow catching itself one-handed on a window ledge to slow its fall.
With a whistle, Vex directed Trinket to round the building while she scaled her own way down. The blood trail had been lessened significantly by whatever fabric the goblin had found, but Trinket had its scent now, there’d be no getting away this time. she’d teach the little beast to lay a claw on her daughter—
She didn’t consciously register that the trail was leading right toward the main square until she spotted the Sun Tree. Was there a bigger attack happening there? What else was happening? She couldn’t hear any sounds of a struggle from that direction. She’d lost sight of the blasted goblin, too; she could see people calmly going about their business, could see Percy talking to what must have been a group of visitors looking nervous.
Too late, she spotted the goblin streaking out of the shadows and straight for the big cluster of people talking to Percy. Vex shouted out a warning, but it was quickly drowned out by screams as the group split apart in a panic. People were fighting to get away, raising a small cloud of dust low to the ground, and stampeding in all directions. The chaos was too much for even Vex’s keen eyes to pierce, and by the time everyone had dispersed enough for her to get a good view, the goblin was nowhere to be seen.
Furious, Vex gestured for Trinket to come with her as she raced in—not that she really needed to, the bear was hard on her heels. “Track it,” she said to Trinket, and then, to the crowd, “Which way did it go? Did anyone see?”
“It poured something on the ground as it passed,” she heard Percy say, somewhere behind her, “I didn’t catch which way it ran, but what did—”
Trinket gave a pained bellow and shuffled backwards, pawing at his nose. As he did, as she turned, the smell hit her nose too; a clashing combination of powerful smells, largely floral and all incredibly strong. Unbidden, the memory sprang to mind of Kynan, just before, mentioning reports of stolen perfume, and realized—somehow, the blasted goblin must have been smart enough to realize it could be tracked by scent, and had worked out a way to make a, a scent bomb of sorts; the smell must have been so strong as to almost physically hurt to poor trinket, and with it scattered everywhere from the onslaught of rushing feet as that crowd had split apart in a panic, that overwhelming smell would be everywhere…
There’d be no tracking it after this. Poor Trinket wasn’t going to be in a condition to be tracking anything after this sensory overload.
It had gotten away again, the little bastard!
The scream that tore out of Vex’s throat at this realization was wholly involuntary. Not that she made any attempt to stop it—she swore, and raged, and tore at her hair, a useless font of angry energy with nothing to direct herself against until a pair of arms locked around her. It took her a moment to recognize them—Percy, trying to calm her.
“Vex, Vex, it’s gone, we can’t get distracted running around after just one, we have to brace to protect civilians from the main attack,” he said, his arms tight around her as she struggled. “It might be trying to lead you into a trap, just let it run!”
“It almost got Tiffany,” she gasped, and heard him take a sharp breath himself. “It nearly took Tiffany, Percy, I saw it try to grab her—I’ll fucking kill them, gods damn them, they almost—”
“Oh, Gods,” he said, hoarse. “Is she—?”
“Crispin’s got her, it didn’t get her, but it was so close, Percy,” and she felt the anger fading into horrified tears, and hated herself for how powerless she was to stop them.
“Fuck,” Percy whispered.
The temple to Erathis was a chaotic hive of anxiety. Townsfolk and visitors alike crowded around some of the city leaders, all talking over each other in hysterics and demanding answers. Off by Trinket, as far out of the way as they could get, the kids (minus Tiffany) were talking amongst themselves, looking various shades of excited, bored, and, in Crispin’s face, pensive. Percy, for his part, was trying to help with this, but trying to calm down a horde of anxious townsfolk was hard enough without also trying to soothe a distressed toddler. Maybe it was for the best after all that Vex had insisted on rejoining the hunt for the creature; Percy’d been concerned and argued against it, with how distraught she’d been, but at this point, being left behind was starting to feel like the more stressful option. It took nearly two hours of himself, Cassandra, Keyleth, and some of the priests repeating themselves to regain some semblance of calm. No, we don’t know where they are, yes, we’ve got all the guards and a good number of volunteers out searching, no, no one’s been reported missing yet.
(And what a close call that was—Gods, they’d almost lost Tiffany.)
Keyleth ducked out for a moment, saying she wanted to ask if the Sun Tree knew anything, and Percy, still juggling three very persistent worriers and a fussy child, just waved her off without really listening. He really wished Pike were here; she wasn’t a city leader anymore than Keyleth was, but she was so very good at making people feel more at ease. But she’d joined in the chase, along with Grog and Scanlan, of course. Trinket was the only other member of Vox Machina to stay behind, and that was on account of nursing an apparent headache.
Mercifully, Cassandra ducked in and gently lifted Tiffany out of Percy’s arms, allowing him to spend a few minutes focusing on reassuring the last few stragglers. The rest had settled down into groups clustered about the pews, or had formed larger bands for the sake of safety in numbers before heading off to inns or homes. A sense of unease remained, but at least it was a quiet unease instead of the chaos of before.
(He still kept an eye on Tiffany, even knowing she’d be perfectly safe with Cassandra. Even hearing about how close she’d come to being taken had left him shaken. He couldn’t imagine what Vex must be going through, having seen it happen.)
Finally, sending the last of the worrying folk on their way, he sat down on one of the few empty pews and took a moment to catch his breath and collect his thoughts. Hopefully, the searchers were making some sort of progress—it should not have been this difficult to track down and deal with a bunch of bloody goblins, for heaven’s sake.
The trick that one had used to deter Trinket fascinated him, despite how worried he felt. Somehow, the creature had known to concoct a scent powerful enough to cover up just about everything, and then to drop that scent right where a huge crowd of panicking people would spread it out very quickly, creating a sort of…olfactory smoke screen, and overloading the bear’s nose, to boot. That was a level of thinking he was not used to goblins being capable of.
…Actually, that just made the whole mess more worrying. Trinket had only tracked down the one scout, yesterday, just for one brief instance, but that was enough apparently for the goblins to prepare ways to shake him off, and so quickly, too. Maybe that was why they were proving so hard to find; perhaps Whitestone had been unfortunate enough to attract a particularly shrewd set of goblins.
It’d be right about average for this city’s luck, really. Ugh.
He was shaken from his thoughts by someone plunking into the pew next to him—Keyleth, with the same more laid-back air she always seemed to have after her…conversations with the Sun Tree.
“Did you learn anything new?” he asked.
“Um. No.” Keyleth ran a hand awkwardly through her hair. “He said he didn’t know anything, because he’s a tree. I mean, he did notice a goblin running around a few times, apparently, but only ever one at a time? Which I’m feeling pretty vindicated about, but I guess that doesn’t technically prove that there’s only ever been one goblin, but, still.”
Percy ran a hand through his hair. “Would it know if they were hiding nearby?”
Keyleth pulled a face. “Um. Probably? Maybe? He’s not super observant, honestly. But he definitely would know if a bunch of goblins passed through the main square at any point, and it seems like that hasn’t happened, so.” Then, looking at Percy’s face, she added, “I’m really sorry, Percy, I wish I could help with this more.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s—everyone’s doing their best, it’s no one’s fault if there’s a few dead end leads. You were a huge help calming people down, anyway. We’re all frustrated and scared, is all. Thank you for trying.”
“What about Tiff?” Keyleth asked. “Have you been able to calm her down enough to get anything out of her?”
Percy was taken aback for a moment, and looked back towards Tiffany, still quiet in her brother’s arms. “She stopped crying finally, but I haven’t tried talking to her about it, no. I hadn’t really thought to. Keyleth, she’s three. She probably didn’t really understand what was happening.”
“Yeah, but it’s still worth a shot, right?” said Keyleth. “I didn’t really think the Sun Tree was gonna know much either, and, I mean, he didn’t, but it won’t hurt to try. If she’s too scared to talk about it we won’t press her.”
“Fair enough.”
Tiffany was still sniffling when Percy took her back from Cassandra’s arms, but had stopped crying at last for the most part. As Percy held her and sat down, she rubbed one tiny fist over an eye and hiccuped. There were some mostly dried droplets of blood across the front of her dress, he noticed, but he had no doubt she’d been looked over very thoroughly and found uninjured. It must have been the goblin’s.
He took a deep breath to steady himself at the thought of how close that had been, and forced a gentle smile. “How are—are you feeling better, Tiff, dear? I know that must have been really scary.”
Tiffany nodded emphatically. “It was!!” she said, eyes wide. “I was jus’ talking to a, the shadow person I seed yesterday a few times, an’ they, an’ all the sudden they pushed me, an’ there were vines, and they were bleeding, an, an’ Mama was scared too!”
Percy blinked, confused for a moment. Right, Tiffany was young enough that perhaps she didn’t realize that the goblin had been dangerous. The arrow had likely frightened her more than her actual attacker. “Right, well, in the future you should…maybe be a bit more cautious about going over to people you don’t know when they call you over.”
“They didn’t do that, tho,” Tiffany sniffled. “They were just sorta hiding over by the wagon. But they—I saw them take a teapot, yesterday, an’ Mama said that, um, that we’d tell the shadow person that it’s not, it’s not nice to take teapots!! So I went to tell them that.”
“That was really dangerous, Tiffany,” said Keyleth, leaning over.
“Why?”
“Because it was…” Keyleth chewed her lip. “Do you know what a goblin is, Tiffany?”
Tiffany nodded. “They’re, um, there’s some in the stories Papa reads to me.” Before Keyleth or Percy could respond, though, Tiffany continued, “But, but they’re always mean an’ stupid, an’ the shadow person didn’t seem either of those things! They were just, um. They were really…um. They didn’t even notice me until I talked to them, and they, and they weren’t even interested in what I said about the teapot or anything, they kept looking all over the place instead! An’ they barely even said anything about the teapot, they just said a buncha other stuff.”
Keyleth tilted her head, but said nothing beyond a quiet, “Huh.”
Percy could think of a few reasons for the goblin to be distracted, and none of them were particularly good, but…perhaps they could work out more as to what the actual intentions of the invaders were, since Tiffany seemed so eager to talk about what had happened. Maybe he could get more of a bead on what sort of plan required goblins to steal herbs and, evidently, a teapot. Hesitantly, he asked, “What did the…the shadow person say to you?”
Tiffany sniffled, and seemed to think for a moment. “Um. They asked if, if I saw a…a weird man.”
That was…entirely unexpected. “…Did they? That’s…What do you mean by weird, Tiff?”
“Um. They said, um, a guy in a…a guy wif a coat, an’, an’ he was messy, they said, an’ that he talked funny.”
Percy looked across at Keyleth, who looked every bit as confused as he felt.
“Did they say why they were looking for this man?”
Tiffany shook her head. “Um! They also said the weird man was on the, was in front of the temple, but he was gone now! They wanted to know if I saw where he went, an’ I didn’t, an’ I said so.”
“And then did the go-the shadow person ask you to lead them to him, or anything?” Keyleth said, sitting down next to Percy. It was exactly what Percy’d been meaning to ask next. It’d make the most sense—maybe the whole thing about some man was a ruse to draw the child away from the watchful eyes of the many armed adults in the area.
“Nuh-uh,” said Tiffany. “They just sorta made a sad noise an’ then they, they said I shouldn’t talk to strangers wifout my parents around.” Percy couldn’t help but slowly turn to make eye contact with Keyleth as the toddler continued on, “An’ I said that my momma was real close so it was okay, an’ they said no it wasn’t, I shouldn’t be talking to them without a, um, an adult I trust, knowing that I’m talking to them. An’ then they asked where mama was, an’ looked around, and then they pushed me!!”
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That was…Hm.
“…I mean. That’s. They weren’t wrong about all that, actually, that’s…very good advice, and I’m very conflicted about the fact that—you’re sure that’s what they said, Tiff?” Percy said, feeling completely lost.
Tiffany gave a single, adamant nod. “Yeah!! An’ then they got hit by an arrow, an’ I got real scared, an’ everyone started screaming!” She sniffled. “Why’d they push me like that? We were jus’ talking, an’, an’ they seemed nice!”
“It was…it was trying to grab you,” Percy said, but the words felt…wrong in his mouth, now. Suddenly, the puzzle pieces didn’t make sense. The gears that had looked to fit perfectly were entirely the wrong size, and it was entirely possible that what he’d thought to be a screw was instead a nail. What…what were they dealing with, here?
Keyleth shook her head. “I don’t know, Percy, this is getting weird…” She chewed her lip for a moment, and then, quietly, trying to keep Tiffany from hearing, she asked, “Is it—she is little, maybe she’s remembering wrong?”
“It wouldn’t be like her to make something like this up,” Percy whispered back. “Leo or Trissa at her age, certainly, and in a few days she may have a very embellished version of things, but right after things happen, she tends to be pretty honest.”
“It didn’t feel like a grab,” Tiffany pouted. “It felt like a push. I fell down on my butt afterwards an’ it hurt a lot.”
Percy tried to imagine the scene with the new information. Tried to fit it in with what he knew about goblins, and kept hitting walls. It didn’t fit. So, then, maybe…
He tried looking at it again, but this time, instead of thinking of the individual as a typical goblin invader, he tried just…thinking about their actions in the context of a normal person. And in that context, things started to make sense. They’d been going about their business when a very chatty, particularly bold toddler had demanded their attention. And then they’d…well, he still couldn’t quite make sense of looking for some strange man, but at the very least it told him that Tiffany’s shadow person had something on their mind.
The advice about strangers made a lot more sense, this way; they were very much busy and distracted and likely didn’t have time to be talking to a small child. They’d told her off a bit, and then looked around for the child’s parents. Perfectly normal behavior for someone who wasn’t seeking to kidnap and devour any small child they could get their hands on.
And then…
“So you told this person that Mama was near?” Percy said, to be sure. Tiffany nodded. “And then they looked around to find her…”
…And would have seen an arrow pointed in their direction, wouldn’t they. Ha. Now he was starting to see how the gears were meant to fit together.
It was a bit of a crazy theory, probably. But the truth was, so far, no one had really been attacked, except for perhaps Trinket a couple of times, and both were justifiably self defense. If Tiffany was right in her understanding of what had happened today, then…
“Keyleth,” Percy said slowly, “You don’t suppose it might have been trying to push Tiffany out of the way?”
“Of what?” Keyleth asked, but before he could answer, another commotion broke out. The goblin hunters were back, it seemed. And judging by the grim looks on their faces, they’d been unsuccessful again.
He ought to have been worried by that, but in the moment, his mind was buzzing. He felt at once like he’d worked out the shape of the thing and like he knew less than ever—there were so many pieces that were missing, ones that he didn’t even know how to START with, but even so, it was an explanation that felt like it fit. He needed to tell Vex, she’d be thrilled to hear there was some sort of lead on all this.
Somehow, Keyleth managed to get ahead of him, getting caught up in the knot of people forming around Vox Machina. Percy, with Tiffany still in his arms, couldn’t break through the crowd, but after a couple minutes of worried folk clamouring for news and Grog’s voice booming out his disappointment above it all, he saw Vex push her way out of the throng and make a beeline towards him.
The rest of the kids, who’d been off in a corner with Trinket, ran up as well, gathering in close as Vex took Tiffany from Percy and held her tight to her chest. There was a heartbreaking tension around her face, accompanied by the kind of exhaustion that comes only from great stretches of stress.  
“Did you beat the bad guys, Mama?” Arthur demanded, tugging on Vex’s tunic. Before she could respond, Trissa and Leo both tried to shout over each, asking for details just as loudly.
Crispin had been unusually quiet and withdrawn for quite some time, and now, whatever dam had been holding him back finally broke, the boy nearly in tears as his voice shook. “Mom, I’m so sorry,” he said, frantic, “I was—Trissa and Arthur were arguing, and Leo kept screaming that he was hungry, and I think Trinket was distracted by something else, and I—I’m so sorry, there was so much, I swear I only let her out of my sight for a couple minutes!”
“Kids, stop—Hold on just a second, please!” Vex chided the three middle children. One arm still firmly holding onto Tiffany, Vex stretched out a hand and gently but firmly made Crispin look at her. “Darling, listen to me,” she said, “You didn’t do anything wrong here, alright? A lot happened very quickly, I’m not angry and this isn’t your fault.”
“I’ll try and pay more attention next time, I swear—”
“You did your best,” Percy said, drawing Crispin in close and pressing a kiss to his temple. “Tiffany’s alive, and she isn’t hurt, it’s alright.”
“Yeah, but did you kill them?” Leo piped up.
“No, damn them,” Vex spat. “Couldn’t find hide nor hair of the little—ugh.”
“Aw, what?” Trissa complained. Crispin somehow managed to look even more distressed.
Percy, sensing a potential storm brewing if the conversation continued as it was—Trissa and Crispin would get into an argument over just about anything these days, with Leo egging the former on, and that was the last thing they needed right now—quickly stepped in. “Alright, kids, your mother and I need to talk privately for a moment. You can hear more about how things went later,” he continued over the loud whines of complaint from Arthur, Leo, and Trissa. “For now, just—One of you take Tiff and just…wait over by Trinket, won’t you?”
Thankfully, they did as they were told, albeit with a lot more complaining from most of them. Crispin took Tiffany with a nod, and helped push the rest to follow Percy’s instructions. As they left, Percy heard Trissa say, “You don’t have to be such a goodie two-shoes about it, Crispin,” and let out a deep sigh.
“I’m really starting to worry, Percy,” Vex said, falling heavily back onto a nearby pew and burying half her face in one hand. “The goblins have somehow managed to completely disappear, they shouldn’t be able to just up and vanish like this, and I hate not knowing where or when they’re going to turn up next! By some miracle, no one appears to have been hurt or killed yet, but it’s only a matter of time.”
“Maybe not,” said Percy, sitting next to her. She turned a tired eye towards him. “Keyleth and I talked to Tiffany about what happened, and it’s got me thinking. I know it’s a bit out there, but honestly, what she described didn’t feel like an invader at all, so much as just another visitor to the festival. She certainly never felt that she was in any danger—”
“Percy,” said Vex, but Percy didn’t stop.
“And, if anything, it sounded like the goblin was trying to push her out of danger rather than attack her. And if that’s the case, then it would follow that we may not be in danger at all, that we’re actually dealing with a, a harmless group of goblins. Which would go a very long way in explaining a lot of the weirdness that’s been—”
“Percival!”
Any further elaboration he might have had lined up died in his throat when faced with the hardness in Vex’s eyes. “I’d say that you can’t be serious, but I’d sincerely hate to think you’d make such a thoughtless joke in a time like this,” she said. “They’re goblins, Percival, of course we’re in danger! One of them tried to take our daughter!”
Some other eyes in the temple were looking at them, he noticed out of the corner of his eye. They weren’t quite in a full on shouting match, but Vex wasn’t trying to be quiet, either. He swallowed. “I mean, Tiffany was very sure that—”
“Tiffany is three years old!” Vex hissed. “She probably didn’t understand what was happening! You can’t go basing an entire insane theory on the word of a toddler!” She pressed her face into her hand again. “Gods, Percival, not everything is some bloody puzzle that needs working out, sometimes things just are what they seem on face value! People’s lives are at stake and we can’t afford to risk calling off our defenses based on a complete fantasy!”
“Well, but, I…”
“Well, why don’t you fight them, then, Mr. I Know How To Use A Big Pointy Stick?”
“Yeah, you’re the one with sword lessons, why don’t you use them, you big chicken?”
Vex and Percy’s heads both turned towards their kids at the rising sounds of Trissa and Leo’s voices. Gods, if they were egging on Crispin again—yep, sure enough, Crispin and Trissa had their eyes locked, Leo at her back adding on to whatever she said.
“There’s a world of difference between sparring with Aunt Cass or whatever guard’s on break and being in an actual fight, Trissa!” Crispin shot back.
“Oh, like you’d know,” Trissa said, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know even know how you’re my brother, sometimes. How’d Mom and Dad have such a big coward?”
“You want me to end up like our uncle?!” Crispin snapped, and Percy felt Vex tense beside him. “Or did you forget about what happened to him? Our parents weren’t living out some fantasy in a book, they were fighting for their fucking lives, and two of them didn’t survive!”
“Mom and Dad did!” Leo said.
“No they fucking didn’t, they just got lucky and were able to come back!”
Percy swore under his breath and got out of his seat, heading toward the kids. He could feel Vex doing the same.
“They all died, the whole group, at least once!” Crispin went on, “I’m pretty sure Mom and Dad both went down twice! And resurrection ceremonies aren’t a guarantee! I’m pretty sure they were just really fucking lucky—I know you know this, Trissa, you can’t just ignore it! All of them, Mom, Dad, fuck, something even managed to kill Grog, and they were all well fucking trained fighters, what the hell are we supposed to do?!”
Arthur started to wail.
“Stop it right now!” Vex said, getting ahead of Percy and planting herself right in the middle of the three arguing children. Percy knelt down and drew Arthur close to him. Tiffany didn’t look like she’d really understand any of what had been said, thankfully—they’d been careful to wait until each kid was old enough to handle it before telling them certain parts of the stories of Vox Machina’s exploits, and neither of the two youngest had been let in on the details Crispin had just laid out.
Judging by the stricken look on his face, Crispin was well aware of his mistake. The boy stammered an apology, but Vex waved it off and turned toward Trissa and Leo.
“Your brother’s right about one thing, neither of you two are anywhere near ready for a real fight,” Vex said, “Especially if you can’t even recognize that this is not the time or place to be fighting amongst yourselves.”
“But Mom, Crispin—”
“Is trying to protect you, like a good brother, and I’ll not have you antagonizing him over it.”
“We can—” Leo piped up.
“No. We’re going home.” A cry of complaint started, but was instantly cut short by a single look from Vex. “All you’ve accomplished with this is scaring your little brother, and you’re going to march back quietly and really think about what you’ve done, do you understand?”
Arthur, at least, was calming down into sniffles rather than outright sobbing. Percy kept trying to soothe the boy, unable to bring himself to look at Vex until he felt her hand on his shoulder.
“Did you hear me, Percy?” she said, her voice softer than it had been, but not much. “I’m taking the kids and Trinket back up. Are you staying down here?”
Percy swallowed. “Um, yes, I think I…there’s so much to do, you know.”
“I’m not angry at you, you understand that, right?” she said. “I just…I’d love for everything to secretly be fine, too, Percy, but it’s just not feasible. I know what I saw.”
“…Of course,” he said, standing. “Travel safe, all of you. I’ll see you tonight.”
He kissed his wife on the cheek, and stood by, quietly reeling as the rest of his family walked away.
It was funny how many things one could find to do when they were definitely procrastinating. Percy managed to busy himself until the sun had begun to set, helping out with arranging things, answering questions, doing whatever he could think of to keep busy. But as the last few people started heading to beds, and guards started up the first of the evening patrols that had been agreed upon for the time being, Percy begrudgingly had to accept that it was probably time to head home.
He’d thought that maybe his theory was a bit far fetched, sure, but he’d not been ready to be so thoroughly shut down for it. Normally that only happened when he was being dangerously stupid, which—well, alright, the town was in danger, fair.
Maybe it really was overly optimistic. It would be so much easier if this was all just a misunderstanding.
“Hey, Percy!” Keyleth’s voice right behind him nearly made him stumble, so sudden did it seem. “What’s up? I’ve been trying to get your attention for like half a minute,” she said, moving up to keep pace with him.
“Sorry, I’m just…distracted, I suppose.”
“…By the argument with Vex?” Keyleth said, and Percy winced. “Sorry,” she added. “Don’t mean to, um, rub dirt in the wound or anything, I just—things seemed tense.”
“It’s…my fault, probably,” he said. “She’s got every right to be stressed out, anyway. It’s been a bloody stressful day.”
“Yeah.”
A comfortable, if slightly awkward silence stretched between them for a few moments, as they walked. Eventually, Keyleth broke it by asking, “Hey, what were you saying before, anyway?”
“Hm?”
“When we were talking to Tiffany,” Keyleth said. “You were about to say something, and then we got interrupted. It’s been bugging me all day!”
“Oh, it was—I—it was nothing, Keyleth,” he said, hurriedly.
“It didn’t sound like something,” she pressed. “It sounded like you were onto something! Come on, what was it?”
“A lot of wishful thinking, apparently,” Percy mumbled.
“About what? Come on, this whole thing’s super weird.”
“You’ll laugh.”
“Promise I won’t?”
Percy looked sideways at her. She had that earnest look about her that was so very Keyleth, the one that meant she wasn’t going to give up on this. He sighed.
“Alright, alright, fine. I had a…theory, of sorts, that was forming. One which Vex very quickly pointed out the holes in,” he said, taking off his glasses for a moment to nervously clean them.
“Oh?” Yeah, he should’ve known that dropping that hint wouldn’t stop her from pushing on.
“It’s…I was thinking at the time that maybe the goblin pushed Tiffany because it saw the arrow pointed at the both of them and wanted to get her out of the way,” he said, feeling a fool for even saying it aloud again. He slipped his glasses back on, adjusted them on his nose, looking away from Keyleth as he continued, “And following from that, that maybe we’re not dealing with anything malicious. Which is…”
“Makes sense to me,” said Keyleth. “I’m not seeing the problem here, yet.”
Percy felt his jaw drop as his head involuntarily snapped to look at her.
Nope, no humor to her expression, just more of that sincerity.
“That’d explain what it said about strangers, too, actually,” Keyleth said, “because if it cared enough about her safety to try and push her out of the way, it’d wanna make sure she’s with her parents, too, right? Yeah! Yeah, that makes a lot of sense! Plus, no one’s gotten hurt at all, yet, and with this many vulnerable people here that’s super weird!”
“I—but—Keyleth, the idea of an entire tribe of goblins randomly showing up who just happen to be quite possibly the one single tribe of nonviolent goblins is—it’s patently ridiculous!” he stammered. Yet, at the same time, part of him felt vindicated—Keyleth may have been a bit foolish at times, but she was far from stupid, and their years traveling together had brought her much more down to earth. If she thought that he might be on to something…
“I mean, with the stuff we’ve all seen together, friendly goblins doesn’t sound all that weird,” she said with a grin. “But, consider this: maybe it’s not a whole tribe!”
“…Oh?”
“Sun Tree’s only ever seen one, I’ve only ever seen one, has anyone so far reported seeing more than one at a time? I mean, like, any reports that we’ve been able to confirm? I know there’s been a ton of false alarms, but. Actual, for sure sightings.”
“…Now that you mention it, no, not to my knowledge,” Percy said, feeling the gears start turning again.
Keyleth’s smile widened. “Right! And I really was searching the whole city yesterday, too, so I had a really wide view! It might be that it’s just the one that’s here, and it’s a nice one on its own, right? I didn’t get a good look at it the second time, but do you think it might be the same one?”
“I…didn’t get a good look at the one from today,” Percy said. “It ran by very quickly. Although…that in itself might be a sign it’s the same one. The one Vex found in the storeroom was very fast.”
“Okay, so, there’s your theory!” Keyleth said, bouncing on her feet a bit. “We’re just dealing with one goblin on its own that might not want to hurt anyone!”
“Which still doesn’t answer what it is doing here,” Percy said. “We’ve possibly explained what it hasn’t done, and that’s a start. But no matter how I go about it, I haven’t been able to make everything it has done make sense.”
“So maybe next time we see it we just try talking to it?” said Keyleth. “Although that…might be harder now. Vex apparently shot it with Fenthras.”
Percy winced. “Oh, Gods,” he said, “no wonder the thing tore past like a bat out of hell, then.”
“Speaking of Vex, though, it’s super weird that she got mad at you for suggesting this,” said Keyleth.
Percy shrugged. “I don’t know, Keyleth,” he said, “she’s really very certain that she saw the goblin attack our daughter. I’d be pretty peeved in her shoes, too. Honestly, I’m not even entirely convinced that she was wrong. There’s no real proof for this, it’s just one possible explanation. It may well be that we’ve only seen a couple scouts.”
“I guess,” said Keyleth, frowning, “But normally I feel like she’d…consider it.”
Percy stopped. Keyleth followed suit, looking at him intently as he thought. “Now that you mention it, she really didn’t even hear me out all the way. I’d hardly started explaining when she just…shut me down.” His own frown deepened. “She didn’t want to talk about the possibility of the goblins being unusual yesterday, either, and I’d not even considered that they might not be attacking at that point. You…you don’t suppose there’s something wrong, do you?”
Keyleth chewed her thumbnail for a moment. “She has been acting kinda weird since she saw the goblin,” she said.
“I…just attributed that to stress over the situation.” Percy folded his arms.
“Yeah, but I mean, even for that, she’s been…off.”
“Hm. I’ll…I might try talking to her, tomorrow, if I can,” he said. Then he allowed himself a smile. “Regardless, thank you for…taking me seriously on this, I suppose.”
She beamed. “No problem!” she said. “We probably shouldn’t bring this up with the others until we’ve got a little more proof, though, huh? Vex might, uh, not be the only one who reacts…badly…to the suggestion.”
“Scanlan.”
“I’m talking about Scanlan, yes.”
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