#he's a pretty boy but he's very meticulous and smart !!

[bubblesandpages]

I think we’re getting an honest to God friendship squad 

#who're all approximately the same age #and are all a little weird #and we're scarcely a third in! (don't judge me this book is taking me a while) #Little Thieves #Fizzy talks #Margaret Owen #Emeric's the fave btw #love him to bits and not to say he's not like other boys but he's definitely not like other ya boys unless I missed something #(which let's be honest is entirely possible) #yes yeah he's got the dark hair and snarky attitude but he's also just very underwhelming to a lot of people #hasn't been described as attractive (explicitly) once #the mc doesn't even get that moment of starstruckness upon first meeting him #which can I say how much I am loving that trend as of late? like I'm pretty sure Leander from Vespertine is handled similarly #back to Emeric #yes he's very smart but it feels like an integrated part of his character and role rather than a character stat the author added on in #order to make him more attractive #which IS VERY ATTRACTIVE #he's meticulous and finicky both in his work and appearance #we have some great backstory going on and the 'act' he's been playing into #and I'm just having a very good time with him #Ragna is lovely too as is the little fire elf living in Vanja's room #Giselle has been set up to be compelling as well can't wait to see how her and Vanja's relationship progresses #also THE ART YOU GUYS #THE. ART.

[ominouspuff]

Tears on Kamino

CC-2224 didn’t know why the other boy was crying, but he didn’t need to. All he needed to do was pull his fingers over a shaved scalp, slowly so as not to startle, and try not to let on how curious he was to see the way the tears dripped in odd shapes down the hot, red, twisted face.

They were hidden, huddled up together — actually hidden, not just sticking to shadows in the open, because if tears weren’t, the odds were against them that things would get official, and nothing good ever came of something getting official. The closets had no cameras nor microphones, and the one they’d crammed into (seventh basement level, thirty paces from Engineering and the guards at its door) was in disrepair — was in line for being decommissioned, in fact. The Kaminoans were meticulous.

But it wasn’t decommissioned yet, so CC-2224 knew it would be the perfect place the instant that he’d pieced together that his new companion was about three seconds away from bursting into tears. They’d made it to the door in under two, but it had taken a bit of jostling and bony elbows jammed into sensitive places that might’ve accelerated the whole ‘tears’ business. 

They were here now, anyway, and they were safe. CC-2224 considered the maneuver a success.

“Hey,” He said, and it was a useless thing to say but he’d heard that the majority of what was said to crying things was supposed to be useless. Apparently there was something distracting and comforting about just — being chattered to. So CC-2224 did his best. “Our rations are made from bugs. I would’ve guessed fish, but they don’t have the nutrients. Plus fishing is a dignitary sport anyway-”

“Would you - shut up -” The other boy interrupted wetly, heaving with great big breaths that diminished his chest to half its size with every gasp. His face was — if possible — redder than before. His brown eyes were sharp, and they were glaring at CC-2224 from beneath his brows, hardened with a painful-looking panic. “Just- stop talking.”

CC-2224 digested this request (such as it was) in silence, weighing the odds that the boy knew better than he did what was needed. He scrutinized the glare in the dim lighting, but it was clear and steady enough. CC-2224 nodded agreement, lips sealing tight. He kept stroking the shorn head, the space so tight between them that all he had to do was swivel his wrist a little — the boy hadn’t asked him to stop that, and he hoped he wouldn’t think to.

He signed with his free hand instead of speaking, furrowing his brow to clarify it was a question.

The boy’s glare wilted slightly as he focused on tracking the signs. Finally he blew out a shaky gust of air. “CT-7567.” He said, and it was very strange to hear him try to put firmness and confidence into it when he could still barely breathe without hiccuping. “You could tell that by checking my code anyways.” He explained defensively — as if he thought CC-2224 might judge him harshly for revealing it or pounce on some kind of opportunity.

Then again, if CC-2224 hadn’t just dragged them both into a protected space, it would’ve been smart to be suspicious — and he would have had to investigate a bit to find the other boy’s code. Seeing as CC-2224 had done all sorts of helpful stuff, though, the second-guessing was a poor show — one that immediately made CC-2224 that much more certain that CT-7567 had been crying because he was an idiot.

He’d heard that, in some places, ‘idiot’ was just an insult. It wasn’t that way on Kamino. Idiots didn’t last long; the Kaminoans were, after all, meticulous about utility. Closets weren’t the only things getting decommissioned. Pretty common reason to cry as far as CC-2224 figured, and it would explain their current predicament.

It was enough to grim up any vod, but there might be hope yet. 

CC-2224 settled his back against the wall, breathing deeply, and imagined he could see the sim-walls — that he could read the fake mission update on the holo, letters glowing, challenging him to find a way to beat it. (Pretending helped him think faster. Being too confident was a weakness, but if CC-2224 knew anything, it was that he was very good at this.)

There were immediate gaps in information he needed for the mission’s resolution — holes that needed filling before he could pick the next direction. His hand moved almost of its own accord, signing fast and hard. 

CT-7567 watched, his breathing evening out by painful increments, brows furrowed in concentration where another cadet would have followed easily. (CC-2224 held his breath at what that might indicate about CT-7567’s intelligence, and he resisted an urge to suck his teeth.)

“Stop, stop,” CT-7567 finally snapped, flapping a hand right into the middle of the signs. “They haven’t taught us that, yet — I only know pieces. Talk instead.” 

“Oh, good, I thought you were stupid.” CC-2224 said in relief, and startled when the other boy hit him hard on the shoulder. “What? It’s not uncommon. If you had been, you’d be dead soon.” He snapped, narrowing his eyes and leaning backwards.

CT-7567’s red face blanched, both splotchy and pale at once, and CC-2224 nearly got distracted by how different it made him look. Later. He could think about it later, when CT-7567 wasn’t in danger anymore.

“Stop panicking.” CC-2224 said, and it came out a bit nasty, but his shoulder was still aching. CT-7567 hit hard. “What’s your defect?”

CT-7567’s fear turned to outright terror, but they were so far beyond that now it was almost silly to see. CC-2224 was no Kami, nor a Good One — if he had been, he’d have reported CT-7567 from the start just to get an edge.

(Among clones, it was a taboo question. It still got asked, but only as a last resort; usually quietly, to a terrified boy in a corner with several others hemming him in, trapping and shielding all at once. Tell us, the braver ones would say, maybe we can help. 

Sometimes they did help. Other times they made things official. ‘Identifying and reporting issues’ was something high-functioning property was supposed to be good at. They liked how following procedure made things easier for them, and if it didn’t come at the expense of another clone, CC-2224 might not have blamed them.)

CT-7567 stared at him like he’d damned the name of Nala Se herself. But just as CC-2224 was bracing himself to hear something stupid, like ‘what defect?’, CT-7567’s eyes narrowed and his spine straightened and CC-2224 suddenly knew — 

‘Idiot’ wasn’t the defect. The defect wasn’t even in that category. CT-7567 was just smaller than CC-2224 had figured, and there was something more serious going on — something big and obvious and unfixable that made little things helpless the bigger they got, the more it grew, the harder it was to conceal. Helpless vod got desperate, and sometimes acted like idiots, but that didn’t make them one. 

“You’ve got your hand on it.” CT-7567 said cryptically, but blessedly (for the sake of CC-2224’s dwindling patience and proportionally increasing anxiety) followed up with: “My hair. It’s wrong; gets white splotches when it grows.”

Ah. Actually, CC-2224 knew something about things like that. “That why you have it shaved?” He clarified. The buzz felt nice under his fingers.

“Yes.” CT-7567 muttered. “But the splotches are getting bigger.”

Bleaching. CC-2224 knew even more about that, though not from experiencing it personally. 

Bleaching was common. It meant that hair began to lighten in odd places or patterns — usually before maturity, but some unfortunates were late bloomers.

CC-2224 had once caught a glimpse of a fully fledged CT being transferred on a hover bed to decommissioning, hair speckled with white. It had been a shock to realize it could happen that late — that they couldn’t be sure they were safe, even after maturing.

There were some solutions he knew of already, but they were difficult, and resources limited. Even the best ones relied on luck so heavily that CC-2224’s nose wrinkled, and he bent himself to the task of thinking up other solutions. 

Five minutes of silence and thoughts and buzz beneath his fingertips ticked by before CT-7567 brought CC-2224’s awareness abruptly back into the closet. 

“Your fingers are trembling.” He said, so much steadier now — maybe because he was focusing on someone else’s problem. CC-2224 knew the feeling well; if a clone wasn’t careful, they could get obsessed with it, to the point they forgot to take care of their own business entirely — and that ended in death too, of one sort or another.

“They do that,” He said distractedly, stifling the spark of irritation that being interrupted ignited in his chest — like a petty little mouth full of sharp teeth, nipping at his ribs. He focused on the buzz beneath his fingers. “They do it when I’m thinking. I like solving problems.”

“Oh.” There was a lot in that ‘oh’, but CC-2224 couldn’t spare much brainpower to track it — he was using it on other things. Then, after a pause, CT-7567 quietly said: “Thank you.”

“Haven’t solved anything yet. Thank me when I do.” CC-2224 pointed out — this time with significant impatience at being interrupted — and CT-7567 grunted in acknowledgement of the wisdom behind that, at least.

CC-2224 thought harder, holding his jaw carefully loose so he wouldn’t chew his lip. The silence stuffed his ears full, and he danced from idea to problem, from solution to unexpected flaw, until there were no more flaws and his lip hurt because he’d forgotten not to chew it.

The closet came back into clarity, and CC-2224 stilled his shaking hand. He couldn’t quite contain his grin, though. “Got it.” He said — and because he really did have it, he let his pride show. With luck, it would help reassure CT-7567 it was true, and he’d be confident instead of second-guessing everything. “C’mon. We’re going to need a few things.”

They spent the next few minutes trying to do damage-control on CT-7567’s unbelievably splotched face. 

CC-2224 donated his socks to the cause, wetting them in the sanitization pump (it leaked on his bare feet, but he offered that up as a painful necessity), and wiping the tears away methodically. CT-7567 bore it stoically, every ounce of his will bent on forestalling more tears — and he managed it. His skin went back to normal and his pinkish eyes cleared up. They couldn’t help the swelling of his lids and nose, but that was a manageable risk.

CC-2224 did some rinsing and ringing out, then put his slightly soggy socks back on, sealing his boots up just as he would for a dry pair, already resigned to the blisters. CT-7567 dithered a bit, watching with a distracted nervousness and looking ready to suggest they wait out the swelling too, but wisely thinking better of it. They’d been in the closet for fifteen minutes already; any longer would definitely be too much of a risk for being noticed.

“On me.” CC-2224 said authoritatively once he was done with his boots, and at first it felt silly to include the other boy in pretending, but CT-7567 straightened and took it seriously and calmed in an instant, and CC-2224 felt vindicated that he’d guessed the right approach — that he wasn’t the only one who liked this tactic. 

“Sir yessir.” CT-7567 said — and the unexpected honorific hit CC-2224 like a battering ram. 

It felt — Bad. Strange. His mouth dried, and he blinked slower so he could hide a moment in the black behind his lids. 

Mission, they were on a mission, and CC-2224 was a commander, like he was supposed to be. He needed his brain working fast and his CT obeying faster, if this was going to work. 

“Let’s go.” He croaked, a bit hoarse, a bit excited. (His hands still trembled a bit when he opened the door.)

#artists on tumblr #fan art #star wars fanart #star wars: the clone wars #Vignette - Kamino #Ficlet #commander cody #captain rex #Young!Cody #Young!Rex #First meetings #Headcanons and practicing writing Cody-perspective

[pacifymebby]

Territorial HCs // Billy + Stu

Billy

🔪 He is jealous of everyone who so much as sits next to you in class. You're his, and Stu's of course, but the point is you're his... He views everyone as a potential threat. 

🥧 He's very insecure, terrified of losing you or being abandoned by you.

🔪 which you personally think is a little cheeky considering he’s with Sidney not you. Whenever you bring this face up however he gets sullen, gives you a look like you should know better, “its different with you sweetheart, anyway, she's temporary.” 

🥧 you do not know what that means and honestly? you don’t want to. Billy gives you some pretty dark vibes sometimes. Sometimes its easier if you just ignore the warning signs.

🔪 When he can sticks to you like glue... Its endearing actually, the way he wants to be around you 24/7. You like the attention he gives you, but sometimes when you’re in school and he comes up behind you when you’re looking for something in your locker, you get flushed and embarrassed. “Billy you’re not supposed to talk to me here... thats your rule!” you’d remind him but he just flashes you that disarming grin. 

🥧 “relax y/l/n I just want to ask you about that project we have to do together... you know, for geography...” you know he’s lying, but you smile and relax and go along with it. “So I’ll meet you after class and we’ll walk back to your place right?” 

🔪 he’s always coming up with ways to see you.

🥧 You like the way he hangs over you like a shadow, you feel safe when you're tucked under his arm.

🔪 He loves it when you wear his baggy shirts over your croptops and he’s always leaving them at your house hoping you’ll pick one up accidentally and wear it into school. It’s like... he knows its risky and he could get caught but he likes the risk, and he kind of likes the audacity of hiding you in plain sight. Making it obvious that youre his but in such a way that no one could prove it. 

🥧 He will climb in through your window almost every night, partially to check up on you, partially because he misses you every second you're not around. He has trouble sleeping anywhere other than by your side. He also doesn’t like the thought that if he isn’t with you, someone else could be. 

🔪 the jealousy and fury he feels every time he sees another boy in school check you out! As far as everyone else is concerned you’re single so they don’t even try to hide it. And holy shit when boys flirt with you, or try to ask you out...

🥧 it takes every last drop of his self control to stop himself from stabbing them in the eye with a pen or something. Instead he watches from a distance, those brooding eyes fixed on whoever is talking to you.. you’d be able to feel him watching you too

🔪 he’d spend the rest of the day meticulously planning how to murder the boy, and then daydream about how slow and painful he’d make the killing. He'd be having very violent thoughts thats for sure. 

🥧 he leaves bite marks on your neck and wrists and definitely gives you hickeys, all ways in which he can mark you and show people that you’re taken. You’re constantly trying to lie about them, you’ve even made up a mysterious secret boyfriend who goes to another school just so your friends will stop asking who did that to you. 

🔪 when the hickeys inevitably get you labelled a slut Billy will be defensive of you whether or not thats a smart idea... if Tatum or Sidney ever say anything about the rumours which are going round about you Billy will get moody very quickly. “Aren’t you two supposed to be feminists... I thought you were more mature than that Sid...” 

🥧 he is constantly telling you that you’re his, that you’re “end game” affectionately nicknames you his “final girl” you don’t realise how much he really means that until it’s too late. 

Stu

🔪 He doesn’t get jealous so much... its more that every time he sees someone look at you it makes him crave your attention/ to be with you... which is just frustrating for him when he’s at school and he sees other boys flirting with you and he can’t...

🍒but sometimes when he sees other boys flirting with you or checking you out, he’ll flirt with you anyway because he knows he can get away with it. He’ll sweet-talk his way back into Tatums good books if he gets caught out. 

🔪 He’s constantly sneaking up on you at school and outside of school, you think its just coincidence but he’s definitely been following you... he always seems to pop up just after you’ve been talking to another guy. He will touch you, even if he’s in public, even if its in the middle of the corridor. He can’t help himself, he can’t keep his hands off you.

🍒he’ll also just cut into conversation if he hears a guy hitting on you, he’ll tell them you’re taken, often lying and saying you’re some other boy from your schools’ girlfriend, which will embarrass you so much 

🔪 whenever him and billy are hanging out and he sees you talking to another guy he’ll nudge billy to get his attention and then nod over to the boy. Billy will roll his eyes, “we can’t kill every boy she talks to fuckrag,” 

🍒 “Oh come on man why not! I mean look at him... he deserves it!” 

🔪 he will give you things to wear, he’ll steal a necklace or a bracelet or something, it'll have a little heart on it and he’ll tell you to make sure people know your boyfriend bought it for you so that then he won’t have to watch people flirt with you

🍒 he’ll definitely sneakily grab your butt in public, he’ll sit next to you in any classes you have together and spend the whole lesson trying to distract you with his hand on your thighs under the table. 

🔪 he actually almost wants to be caught, he’s reckless like that, he thinks you’re so hot that it melts his brain and honestly he just wants to show off that he’s fucking you 

🍒 you’ve always got some kind of hickey on your neck, somewhere obvious... he actually tells you not to cover it up, no roll necks, no make up... you have to show everyone that you’re his. 

🔪 he gets off on seeing you around school with that hickey on your neck, knowing he gave it to you... it makes him desperate to give you another. 

🍒 he’d be kind of mean to any guy he thought liked you, he’d constantly be trying to knock their confidence, make sure they didn’t think they stood a chance with you. He’d laugh at them for even thinking about it. He’d definitely try to embarrass them in front of a group of people. 

#scream imagine #billy x stu x reader #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader

[star4daisy]

TOP 5 EVAN ROSIER PERSONAL HEADCANONS GO!

heheh thanks for this I'll finally be able to speak my truth (be aware there's a lot of rambling)

HE’S BLACK FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT’S HOLY THAT’S A BLACK MAN RIGHT THERE

For Hogwarts I think he was just as sadistic as Barty, but he didn’t show it so he looked like the exemplar student, smart, good looking, aristocratic and very confident but deceiving/conniving, you never get to see all sides of him but he had a mean streak he was just more calculating, whereas Barty was impulsive in his anger, Evan let it simmer under the surface until he got the perfect plan to destroy you also he thought he was above everyone else (narcissistic/sociopath vibes) (this is not very articulate but basically how I wrote him in Arsonist's Lullabye lol)

I like the skater Evan, white dreads Evan with a lot of swag and his spotless jordans who worships pac and raps to kendrick in the car while he drives Barty around. Evan who loves to ride in the back of Barty's motorcycle as much as he likes to race him

I like insane Evan, killer Evan who plans meticulously how he’s going to end someone, Evan who’d kill anyone that dared touch or look at Barty heheh CANNIBAL Evan and vampire Evan have my whole heart too and Evan that kills people for human sacrifice rituals with Pandora, THEY CARRY THEIR VICTIM'S BONES AROUND IN NECKLACES AND EARRINGS he gifts Barty a ring with someone's eyes and THEY EXCHANGE NECKLACES WITH EACH OTHERS BLOOD AND WHEN BARTY DIES HE CARRIES HIS HEART AROUND WITH HIM IN A JAR OR EATS IT SO THEY'LL ALWAYS BE TOGETHER (I'm very passionate about this lol)

I like Evan who looks like the perfect school boy and everyone wonders why he’s with/likes crazy boy Barty but turns out he’s the mastermind behind all the insane shit Barty does lol THEY DEFINITELY BURNED DOWN A CHURCH OR A SCHOOL IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT also he loves to do graffiti and def spray painted the house of everyone he hated but did pretty drawings for his friends

#HE'S MY BABYGIRL #must be protected at all costs #love to write him as a lil sociopath #ask game #evan rosier #top 5 #evan rosier headcanon #marauders headcanon #rosekiller #evan x barty #the slytherin skittles #slytherin skittles #the marauders era #dead gay wizards #barty crouch jr x evan rosier #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #evan rosier my babygirl #slytherin #slytherin squad #slytherin supremacy #rosekiller headcanon

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

reading update: july 2023

I don't have a cool and witty opening for this one. I read a fuck of a lot of books this month and I want to tell you about them LET'S GO

Black Water Sister (Zen Cho, 2021) - Black Water Sister has a very fun premise: a closeted lesbian and unemployed recent graduate moves back to Malaysia with her parents and is already having a bad enough time when she starts hearing the voice of her dead grandmother, who turns out to have been deeply involved in supernatural organized crime. our hapless protagonist becomes a medium against her will, and has to navigate to world of Malaysian spirits and superstition to lay her grandma to rest. unfortunately the actual style of the story wasn't more me; although definitely adult fiction, the prose is breezy in a way I affiliate strongly with YA, which is not to my personal taste but is still so hashtag valid. if you're one of the countless people trying to make that jump from YA to adult fiction and you like queer urban fantasy then Black Water Sister might be a great fit for you, although I should provide a warning for a pretty surprisingly graphic near-rape in the book's climax that really took me by surprise in a story that's otherwise pretty zany in its violence.

The Bride Test (Helen Hoang, 2019) - I think I said last month that Alexis Hall's A Lady for a Duke was the best so far of the romance-novel-every-month scheme I'm trying to pull off this year. the Bride Test has pretty swiftly displaced it; have I finally discovered the really good romance novels? (worry not; I know what I'm reading for August and my hopes are. low.) our two protagonists, Mỹ/Esme (her chosen American/English name) and Khai, are both genuinely charming and are pretty strong characters independent of each other, which cannot be said for A Lot of romance protags. despite the absolute insanity of how they met (yes, Khai's mother went to Vietnam and offered, uneducated a poor single mother a tourist visa in exchange for trying to seduce her autistic son. yes, that's shady. don't think about it too hard) and Esme waiting until WAY too late in the game to reveal the existence of HER LIVING HUMAN CHILD, I liked this book a lot. it's silly and heartfelt and I had fun; what else do you need? 5/5 eggplant emojis.

Giovanni's Room (James Baldwin, 1956) - there's probably nothing I can say about Giovanni's Room that I could say that someone smarter and gayer hasn't already said, but god. it really is breathtaking. I so often see this book talked about as a gay tragedy, and honestly that feels like almost too glib of a description. it's a really meticulous dissection of white male masculinity and the claustrophobic constraints there of, and our narrator's claustrophobic fear of divesting himself from the power that he's entitled to by virtue of being a white American man perceived as a heterosexual. this man would rather live in repressed misery for his entire life than risk being like those effeminate faggots at the gay club, but spoiler alert! being miserable doesn't make you better than your fellow fags; it just means you're miserable AND a fag. sharp and painful and so so so smart. also I'm going to summon @zaricats because I was supposed to tell you what I thought about this book. oops!

Lone Women (Victor LaValle, 2023) - okay so listen. did I just say Black Water Sister wasn't really for me because of the simplistic prose? yes. did I really enjoy the very sparse, straightforward style of Lone Women? also yes. leave me alone, I contain contradictions. anyway, Lone Women is a ripping piece of historical fiction spliced with supernatural secrets, based on LaValle's research into 19th century Black women homesteaders who made their lives in Montana. LaValle opens on a scene of irresistible intrigue - Adelaide Henry, lone woman, sets out for Montana with a mysteriously heavy trunk after burning down her family's California farm with her parents' mutilated corpses inside. and boy, does it escalate from there! it's a story about isolation and community and the people who are failed by so-called close knit small towns, and the ways in which vulnerable people band together to protect one another. it also makes the compelling point that maybe, just maybe, the real monsters were your local transphobe and her husband's lynch mob all along.

Black Disability Politics (Sami Schalk, 2022) - what a cool book! Schalk's argument begins with the idea that Black disability politics are distinct from predominantly white mainstream disability politics, and are therefore often overlooked in conversation, activism, and academia. Schalk analyzes the historical work of the Black Panthers and the National Black Women's Health Project to showcase what she describes as Black disability politics in action. in Schalk's conception, Black disability politics take a much more holistic approach to disability, conceptualizing as just one form (and, frequently, as a result of) of oppression tangled up with a myriad of others that cannot be meaningfully addressed when they're treated as separate issues. the book concludes in interviews with contemporary Black disability activists and organizers that shed light on ways in which the wider movement is often unwelcoming to folks of color, and an exhortation from Schalk for readers to continue the conversation well beyond the confines of the book. in a killer show of praxis, the entire book has been made available to read in PDF form, and I strongly recommend giving it a look!

The River of Silver (S.A. Chakraborty, 2022) - mentally I am kicking myself a little for waiting so long to read this continuation of my beloved Daevabad trilogy, because it did take me a minute to get back into the swing and mythology of the world and that did make me feel unpleasantly like I wasn't appreciating these character-focused short stories as much as I could be. but even having said that - man! fuck I love the world of Daevabad, and I adore these characters so much. getting to see them again, even briefly, was a delight, and I am once again congratulating Nahri and Ali on being the invention of heterosexual romance. (also, on a related note, but I ADORE the way Chakraborty writes her characters having crushes. they crush SO hard and it's very sweet. these books are such big drama all the way down.)

Men We Reaped (Jesmyn Ward, 2013) - an absolute powerhouse of a memoir, and devastating the whole way down. in Men We Reaped Ward attempts to make sense of a series of tragedies that befell her community when five young Black men - beginning with Ward's younger brother - died between 2000 and 2004. the word 'unflinching' is hopelessly played out, but it's difficult to figure out how to describe the head-on way Ward explores each young man's life and ultimate end and her own upbringing. the men in Ward's history - her brother, the friends she lost, her father and other male relatives - are never idealized; their demons, miseries, infidelities, addictions, and violence are placed on full display. but Ward is also insistent on displaying these men with dignity, compassion, empathy; showing them at their best and, most importantly, as men who were loved and deserved better than the violence that poverty and racism wrought on them. it's a furious memoir, one that will leave you mourning too.

Nimona (ND Stevenson, 2015) - did I only read this so I can make more informed complaints if/when I end up watching the netflix movie with my wife? YES. but listen, it wasn't JUST petty hater behavior. Nimona is just really good, and I think I got a lot more out of it this time around that I did when I first read it years ago. this comic is wild and unfettered and so spectacularly weird; I wish more things felt the way Nimona does. I also with more things starred small girls begging to kill cops and stage a violent overthrow of the government, that rules hard. also man I love Ballister, he's SUCH a good protagonist. he's curmudgeonly, he's deeply principled, he's held a grudge for years, he's paternal, he's even gay. what a guy!

#reading updates

[multiwreckedmess]

February Filth Fest - Day 18

Pairing: Changbin x gn!reader (I will explain below cut) Prompt: femdom (kinda) WC: 2.4k Summary: basically pwop. Changbin’s had a stressful few months and what better way is there to release that stress than some good no-thinking time. TW/CW: dom!reader, sub!Changbin, like two light thigh slaps, orgasm denial, begging, trained positions, Changbin called variations of “bunny/bun”, reader called “Miss”, restraints, breeding kink, unprotected penetration

I’ve very deliberately not described the reader too much so that despite being labeled femdom the only fem specific this is the title used. If you are okay with “Miss” as a title, this fic should be safe for you to read!

“Attention!�� Changbin’s arms snap to his sides, pinned by the invisible force of his training. Eyes focused forward he waits, trying to contain his entire body vibrating with excitement. He hears you before he sees you, stilettos clacking against the wooden floorboards. Appearing out of his periphery, he tenses, holding his position with perfect form. Nothing less than expected from him. “Wait!” He relaxes slightly, hands held behind his back, legs spread wide, weight balanced equally between them. “My quick little bunny is eager today isn’t he?” You coo. “Was it a hard couple weeks of promotions?” Changbin nods briefly but fiercely. It had been a long few months. Touring, fansigns, interviews, promotions, new stages, new choreography. All things he loved about his job. No matter how much you love something, it can wear on you. It wasn’t even those parts individually, it was all the thinking surrounding them. The planning, the meetings, the need to manage every waking moment. He just didn’t want to anymore. He wanted to just relax. He wanted you. “Yes, miss.” “Let me see you my poor bun,” you squish he cheeks lightly, accentuating his little pout. “Inspect!” Every motion is rote. Arms and hand snapping up to behind his head offering access to every inch of his body. Waiting for you to meticulously combe over every inch of him. “Bun! Look at those biceps!”  At eye level his hulking shoulders and arms were the first thing you noticed. Finger tracing over hills and valleys carved by years of dedication you brush over the trained muscle. “You worked so hard, you must’ve grown at least a centimeter!” you beam at him. Changbin fights the breening grin that tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Yes Miss. I have. Thank you Miss.” Smoothly stroking your way down over his collarbone you pull the pretty pink leather harness he’d picked out for the night. It digs in as you yank it, already fitted taut to him, making its own indents in his flesh. Following the line of inspection you slip your first finger between the matching collar and his neck, not too loose, not too tight. “Good job fitting yourself today my smart little bun bun! And with such a nice color, a beautiful set for a beautiful boy.” “Thank you Miss, I hoped you’d like it, Miss.

Of all the parts of Changbin you liked, material and immaterial, his chest was in the top three. It was difficult even for you to remain in character as you cupped his pecs. Your lizard brain needed to lick him. Bite him. Make him squeal with delight as you worship his sizable chest. Inspection was not the time for this. Instead you ignored your instincts, opting to pet his cute stomach. “Don’t worry bun, you know it would be a punishment for you and me if that was all you were getting.” Tracing his belly button he whimpers, already at half mast and quickly growing, pressing against his baby pink boxer briefs. Don’t do it, he thinks to himself over and over, stand still, let Miss take control. Miss knows best. If you’re a good boy, Miss will reward you. Unlike fate and daily life, Miss was always fair. Eyes crossing with effort, Changbin whines as you play with him over his underwear. “Baby bun is so responsive today, being such a good boy for Miss aren’t you?” “Yes Miss, I’m a good boy for you, Miss.” Changbin nearly barks out as though addressed by a drill instructor. His sudden volume is cute, nerves wound almost as tight as his muscles. “Wait!” Changbins arms relax once more, placed behind his back. “You’re in excellent condition as expected!” You let your hands wander your strong man. ”But, bun bun…I checked in with your trainer…you’ve been skipping cardio again.” You tut, slapping his thigh. He doesn’t flinch, eyes closing briefly with a heavy sigh as you rub the reddening flesh. “Is that what a good bunny boy does?” Changbin hesitates, wishing there was a good excuse or something that could get him out of his allotted punishment. You swat his thigh again, the sting only momentary but enough to earn a small yelp from him. “No, Miss! I just didn’t want to do it!” “Oh my sweet Binnie…cardio is so good for your stamina. Don’t you want to endure well for me?” “Yes Miss.” “So, what sort of punishment fits a bunny who doesn’t do his training as requested?” Changbin hated when you did this. Making him pick his punishment was almost worse than receiving the punishment itself. Requiring him to think when you already had something picked. “...spanking?” He asks hopefully. You laugh, shaking your head. Somehow Changbin knew that was not the answer you were looking for but had decided to say it anyway. “Oh bun, you know that’s hardly a punishment for you! Besides, how will that help your stamina? No, you’re going to be a good toy for Miss today.” Changbins eyes flick to the bed, restraints already set in place. Four tethers at the headboard and one at the foot of the bed. He knew what that meant. He’d have to wait to cum. Not that he would cum without your permission during your play sessions but you’d make it difficult this time. “Bed! Back!” Obedient as ever he clambers to the center of the bed, lying on his back staring, waiting for your next move. It doesn’t take long, slipping yourself under his torso. Changbin is like a weighted blanket, warm and heavy and soft. Having him propped against you between your thighs you could easily lavish praise in his ear to work him up.

Beginning by gently squeezing his pecs, you slowly slide the pads of each of your fingers over his nipples, listening for his sharp inhalation. Pinching and pulling the pebbled nubs Changbin becomes a whining and squirming puddle in your arms. The buff man reduced to a needy mess as his cock throbs untouched in his underwear. “Thank you Miss. It feels so good Miss,” he whispers, flushed from his neck up. “Strip,” you nuzzle his red ear, soft but stern with him. As he complies you grab the lube and a pink silicone cockring from the bedside.

Cock already angry red and leaking Changbin crawls back to position. Squirting some lubricant into your palm you pump his length, fist just tight enough to spread the liquid evenly, slipping the cockring over his shaft and balls smoothly. Changbin gasps as you slide him into place, chest rising and falling more rapidly as his heart rate elevates. The back of his brain buzzes with need, the fuzz masking over the usual background noise. Slipping one of his arms over the back of your neck your lips latch to his tit, sucking gently at the puffy tender flesh. Tongue tracing soothing circles as your hands lovingly caresses his stiff cock. “Color, bun?” “Green, Miss. Very green.” He whines and strains, head of his dick reddish purple as the blood rushes to his groin. Leaking with precum he twitches in your palm. Hips kicking and twisting you stop everything as he arcs and bows, grunting. “Baby bun, this is your punishment, you know?” “I understand Miss!” He yelps, face twisting as the need to cum washes hot through him. “Kneel.” Knees into the covers he waits, legs parted, palms up. His dick stands proudly jutting out from his body, still twitching and leaking. Pulling his harness away from his skin you clip the  o-rings into the restraints at the headboard, securing the second pair to his ankles. Finally you clip the tether at the foot of the bed to his o-ring of his collar, it has the most slack of all of them, only there to remind him he cannot collapse backwards.

Slowly you climb over his thighs, inserting him easily into your hole. He shakes and shivers below you, your tight heat enveloping him completely, pleasantly working his pained erection. “Oh bun, you’re so lucky you have such a fat cock. Feels so good filling me up like this I can’t help myself. I just have to use you like the dumb fucktoy you are.” “Your dumb fucktoy miss,” he burbles, eyes unfocused and mouth hanging loose in a state of bliss. “Such a good stud. My stud. I only let my biggest best bunny breed.” He groans, thighs tensing he can feel his impending climax. But he can’t. He can’t cum yet. His chest tight he knows he can’t cum. If he cums he’ll disappoint you and all he wants is to be good, for you to keep saying nice things about him, for you to keep lavishing praise on him. Lower lip trembling, a tear slips down his cheek. “Miss, I can’t-I can’t-I can’t hold it Miss. Please Miss.”

You nearly jump off him, standing in front of the foot of the bed to watch him struggle. His hips chase you, arms extending sluggishly swinging to grab you. Changbin is stuck, headboard creaking as he fights against the restraints His chest bulges as the harness holds him back, thighs flexed Changbin is upset and when he’s upset he’s loud. Whining and twisting and pouting, cock purple and shiny as he bargains with you. “MIss I need to cum. I need to cum. Please Miss I’ve been so good, haven’t I been so good?” “You should’ve thought of that when you were skipping your stamina training,” you tut. Flexing with all his might, you doubt the structural integrity of the bed frame. You’d had it reinforced but still, the bed in the woodgrain was impressive.

Breathing slowly, you approach him again, running your hands all over him as his muscles relax. “Color, bun?” “Green,” he replies meekly. Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulps down air. “Kneel.” You pull him forward so the restraints at his back are stretched long, held so that he can only move his hips. Positioning yourself on all fours you back into his cock. Changbin gasps, able to clearly see your tight muscles stretching around him to accommodate his girth. “Mmmhm, you can put your hands on my waist Binnie bun,” you arch your back, “bounce my ass on your cock. Go ahead.” His hands grip, digging into your hips, as he pulls you back and forth. His arms can barely move enough in conjunction with his hips, relaying on you to fuck back into him. He feels so much longer when you fuck in this postion. Almost as though the head of his cock hits your diaphragm with each thrust. Strained grunts and strangled, frustrated, moans escape him as he tries his best to please you. Your ass ripples pleasingly with each stroke, walls eagerly pulling him back in and hesitantly gripping as he retreats. It’s mesmerizing to Changbin. The steady tempo has him in a trance, almost unaware of his lower belly tensing, preparing to release.

But you are very aware, pulling yourself forward as his hands scramble to pull you back onto him. His hips still thrusting into the cool air. He lets out a single distressed dry sob, closed fist beating his chest. His cock looks so full that if you flicked it, it might pop in a shower of cum. The skin taut and shiny and purple. Tracing your fingertips under his sharp jaw you coo. “Oh bun, don’t be sad. You’ve been so good!” As you stroke your fingertips languidly down his spine he shivers, eyes rolling back. “I’ll let you breed me this time okay bun?” Changbin’s heart leaps in his chest, pained face turning bright. “Really Miss? You mean it? I’ve been good?” You chuckle, mounting him. “Yes baby, you’ve been good. Now you may please and breed me as you want.” You unclip his harness, letting the restraints fall to the bed, weaving your hands between the leather straps. His hips stutter, unsure for a second of how long he will last. Changbin rubs his face into your shoulder, he wants to make each second count. He has to make each second count. He knows he’s just at the brink but it feels so good to be wound so tight. Gripping onto your shoulders to leverage his hips, he snaps against you brutally, mindlessly pummeling into your heat like a man possessed. “Breed me. That’s it, breed me. Go ahead, fuck me full, you deserve it. “ Grunting and groaning his chest rumbles against yours, cumming violently as your walls flutter around him. He can’t stop now, spine burning with overstimulation. Damn the refractory period, you’re letting him have you and he’s going to take full advantage.  Hips pinned up as he leans forward, his jackhammering hits you directly each time, stomach bulging out as he passes. Slick with cum and sweat, the percussive slap of skin on skin fill the room. Mind blank he cums again as you climax, fluids leaking from you, spilling onto his pelvis, coating him in a clear sheen. “My good bun, my good sweet bun, you did so well bun. Fucked me so good, so full.” You mutter, hips still pushed up beneath him. His cock continues cumming, streaking your walls white with painful spurts. Rolling to the side you pull him from you with a pop, sliding the cockring off his wilting member. “One last step, my bunny. One last,” you reassure the broken man, your own vision still swimming. Unclipping his ankles and undoing the clasp of his collar, he is free to relax fully. Exhausted but pleased he floats happily in the plush bed. Changbin knows for certain that today, he did a good job.

I will be looping back for the ones I missed, I was just really excited to write sub!changbin. Something about a buff man groveling really does it for me.

#changbin smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #seo changbin smut #sub!idol #sub!changbin #dom!reader #february filth fest

[fluffydice]

KuboSai One-Shot!

Wordcount: 1,753

TW for depression, references to child abuse

His Kusuo was anxious about something. Aren would have had a harder time judging his boyfriend’s moods a couple of months ago, but now it seemed glaringly obvious. It wasn’t one major thing that tipped Aren off; Kusuo was too careful, too meticulous, and obsessive about hiding his vulnerability, to ever let himself be exposed like that. No, instead, Aren’s sweetheart had little tells, ones that anybody could note if they just took the time to watch. 

It was in the way Kusuo smoothed out any perceived flaws in his appearance, like a grooming cat. Or how he tended to settle closer to enclosed spaces where it was easier to go unnoticed. He curled up, too, tucking at least one knee to his chest when he sat. It would almost seem casual, had Aren not known Kusuo had trained himself to protect his vitals. He was even picking at his nails through his glove, probably the largest tip-off someone would get out of him. 

Aren wasn’t just ‘someone’ though. He might’ve been the only person who would receive Kusuo’s little glances. The ones where his eyes were wary but still soft and vulnerable, trusting Aren to see him with his walls down. 

Aren placed the bowl of batter he was mixing down on the counter, keeping a worried eye on his boyfriend all the while. “Everything all right, Princess?” He called out. They were at Kusuo’s house and the boy was sitting on the loveseat, curled up and tiny. 

Kusuo blinked slowly in acknowledgment of him. Maybe a month ago, he would have simply dismissed the concerns and claimed he was fine. It was a testament to Aren’s efforts that Kusuo turned his head and shrugged instead. 

Uh oh, his baby was upset about something. And it was Aren’s job as a dutiful boyfriend to comfort him, and maybe kiss it better if necessary. He skirted around the counter and made his way over, making sure not to loom, and instead seated himself across Kusuo, on the couch. 

Aren’s baby would ask to be held when he was ready. For now, he needed to make sure not to make Kusuo’s paranoia flare up. 

“What’s up, Kusuo?” He asked. Kusuo was avoiding his gaze now, his brow furrowed in thought. Aren wondered, not for the first time, what was going on in that magnificent brain. Kusuo was very smart when it came to most things. 

Emotions, however, weren’t one of them. For either of them. It was a steep learning curve, but they were sure fucking trying. 

“I…” Kusuo tried, sounding nervous and quiet. It was a stark contrast to his usual imperial charm, successfully making Aren’s chest ache. “I don’t want you to be mad at me,” he admitted, letting his gaze drift to the side. The statement, coupled with the shame that flickered across Kusuo’s expression, tugged painfully on Aren’s heartstrings. 

Aren couldn’t help but feel that Kusuo was too pretty to have such a wrenching look on his face. His boyfriend was meant for shining eyes and sweet smiles, and for soft, hidden giggles and pinkened cheeks. Kusuo too often looked sick with grief and guilt, like he was the root of all the problems in people’s lives. 

“You know that even when I’m upset, I still love you Kusuo,” Aren responded easily. 

Kusuo turned away even more. “I know. It’s just-“ He hesitated for a moment, then forced out, “Sometimes. The people that love us…yell or hit when they get angry.”

Ah.

Aren had his suspicions about Kusuo’s home life. Everything had seemed so picturesque at first, albeit a little wacky. It had been so different from his own household that it originally made his head spin, keeping him from noticing the odd little inconsistencies with his boyfriend’s family. Now that he was used to them, a lot of Kusuo’s traits had begun to seem less innocent. 

More survival induced, more like. 

So Kusuo’s response didn’t shock him, even if it did crack his heart down the middle. “But it’s wrong of them to do that, right?” Aren reminded. 

“…It’s not like it would hurt me,” Kusuo replied mulishly. “It’s not that serious.”

Right. It wasn’t serious. That’s why Kusuo wasn’t essentially asking for Aren’s reassurance that he wouldn’t hurt him, yeah?

Aren took a breath to stave off his protective fury, reminding himself who he was dealing with. Kusuo was more skittish than he let on, especially in the face of anger. It went unnoticed because Kusuo knew how to identify the warning signs and made himself scarce before it was externalized. 

Funnily enough, it was why Kusuo and Aren had rarely hung out one-on-one during the first part of their friendship. Before the soft, candied joys of romance, there had been a warm and sturdy companionship. That was his homie, through and through. But before even that, Kusuo had been glacier-cool and just as unmovable, rarely giving Aren a way in. It had taken a lot of time and learned patience on Aren’s part to begin getting closer. 

“You know I can’t agree, Kusuo,” Aren sighed. “You deserve better than you think you do. But,” he held up his hands placatingly before Kusuo could start to argue. “You wanted to talk about something, right baby?”

Kusuo gave him another nervous look and Aren tried to smile reassuringly. “Kusuo, I promise I won’t hurt you, okay? I’ll stay right here as long as you need me to.”

That seemed to give Kusuo a hint of bravery. The boy took a deep breath and shut his eyes tight, beginning to speak.

“I just don’t understand why I’m not happy,” Kusuo whispered. 

Aren felt his heart drop in sudden horror. He wanted to leap up and beg for forgiveness, for whatever he had done. He didn’t know what, but he loved Kusuo so much. The thought of him leaving was almost unbearable. 

But Aren promised to stay calm. He promised not to hurt Kusuo, and giving in to his instincts could lead to just that. So, he forced himself to stay seated, no matter how hard his heart pounded against his chest. 

“I have everything,” his sweetheart continued, reaching a hand down to pick at the cushion. “Things people only dream of. A nice house…supportive friends…” Kusuo grumbled out reluctantly. Aren couldn’t help the shaky smile that bloomed. “And I have…you.” He admitted shyly, peeking at Aren under his bangs. 

Aren felt his heart wobble. Kusuo wasn’t breaking up with him, then. 

But something was still upsetting him. 

“I love you a lot, Aren. I really do. I have everything, so why–” Kusuo’s voice broke a bit. 

“Why am I still so sad?”

“Oh, baby,” Aren mumbled sadly. 

“It feels awful. I- I know it’s greedy and selfish and I’m so sorry, but sometimes it hurts so bad. You all make it better, but sometimes the only thing I can focus on is how miserable I am,” Kusuo rushed out, tucking his face into his knees. “It lives in me, Aren. I feel it deep inside of my bones, inside the hollow spot it’s carved out for itself. It’s stuck there and I don’t know what to do, I don’t remember a time it wasn’t there. It’s ridiculous because- because my life is wonderful. Isn’t it?” He asked, uncurling slightly to look at Aren. 

What did he say here? It was true; Kusuo did have things that many people didn’t. Hell, Kusuo lived in an area Aren had never stepped foot in before moving to Hidariwakibari. He did have nice friends. His powers made a lot of things in life easier. 

They had also robbed his baby of a lot of things. The worst thing they had stolen from him was love. Care and affection that was his due. Kusuo had never been allowed to form connections and had only just begun to nurture the social side of his humanity. 

And, to put it bluntly, well-

Kusuo had been abused. Was still being abused. Aren had never wanted to admit it, whether out of respect for Kusuo’s wishes or his own ridiculous hopes, but that wasn’t right. Kusuo deserved to have people who actually paid attention to his problems, people who took care of him and showed him the kindness he deserved. And that meant Aren had to face the cold hard truth of Kusuo’s homelife. 

Aren had suspected, but he was pretty certain of it, now: Kusuo was depressed. He had always reminded Aren of the stray cats around Ibaraki for a reason; they hissed and scratched, constantly turning tail and fleeing to escape the potential of pain. Because they had learned that’s what the world was. 

So no, it wasn’t selfish of Kusuo to hurt so deeply. Even if he didn’t have those reasons, Aren would never dream of holding his beloved’s pain and suffering against him. 

Instead of answering, Aren stared directly into those soulful, purple orbs. Kusuo’s expression crumbled and his eyes fluttered shut, but it didn’t keep Aren from catching a glimpse of their glassiness. 

“What do you need from me, Kusuo?” Aren asked. 

Kusuo was silent and stock still. Aren wasn’t even sure he was breathing. But after a moment, the boy’s arms relaxed their grip around his legs and they reached out toward Aren.

That was his cue to come kiss it better, then. 

Aren stood and scooped up his boyfriend, tucking him close to his chest as he settled back down. “It’s okay, sweet thing,” he promised, sweeping back Kusuo’s hair from his forehead. “You can let go. I got you.”

Kusuo twitched. His shoulders jerked once, then twice, tense and angry. Then, his body suddenly lost all of its tension as he began to cry. 

Aren rocked them, listening to the heart-wrenching sound of his baby’s sniffles and the occasional hiccup. He pressed a kiss to that beautiful head of hair and let himself breathe in Kusuo’s scent. 

It definitely wouldn’t be easy. This wasn’t something Aren could make go away. Sometimes this would be all he could do, staying with Kusuo while his misery dragged him out to sea. But Aren swore right then that he would always be there to sit with him at the bottom of the ocean, to ride out the inexplicable sorrow and hold up a towel for Kusuo when it receded. Aren couldn’t help but feel it was the bare minimum, but somehow, he knew it was much more than his Kusuo had received for far too long. 

#just a quick thing to try and get the juices flowing #kubosai #saiki k #tw child abuse #tw depression #crossposted on ao3 #fluffy writes a fic

[vitaliskravtsov]

For Spotify wrapped - #88 and nurseydex or patater! :)

okay ngl this is a bit of a toughie bc this one is instrumental but i did my best!!!!!!!

88) the thrombey estate - knives out soundtrack

patater!!

Alexei is kind of absolutely bone-tired from the drive and he’s even more tired from camp, and more than anything, he wants to just pass out on his sofa. 

Unfortunately, it’s like 3pm and any passing out will just mean that he’ll wake up at about 2am, starving and unable to go back to sleep, so he has to tough it out.

That’s what he uses to explain why he’s seeing another person in his house, his brand-new house (okay, it’s an apartment), and doesn’t question it. 

The realtor had told him the house had history in the community, whatever that meant, but the plumbing was good and there was no water damage, so he’d taken it without interrogating that statement too deeply.

Now, though, he’s staring down a five-foot-seven blonde kid who looks like he’s straight out of an eighties sports mag.

“Mmh,” he grunts, and throws his stuff at the floor. 

The boy stares at him.

“That’ll dent,” he says, vowels lilting just a little. Weird accent.

“Mmh,” Alexei says again.

“Eat,” the boy says, and then stalks off.

Eventually, Alexei does get up and get a protein shake going. He pours it over a bowl of pasta, immediately regrets the decision, and eats the whole thing anyway.

He’s not as concerned as he should be, but by the time he goes to bed, the boy is gone, so it’s probably fine.

Over the next couple of weeks, he keeps appearing in Alexei’s house, staring at Alexei’s Russian books or petting Alexei’s sticks or leaving little notes about the decor (or the dishes, or the cooking situation, which is maybe a little more abysmal than it should be after two and a half years on his own).

He’s pretty, in an ethereal, incomprehensible, untouchable way.

He’s kind of horribly, awfully, exactly, Alexei’s type.

As the season progresses, he starts leaving hockey-related notes, but also commentary on Alexei’s music selection and on Alexei’s nutrition -- notably different from the cooking-based notes in that these have to do with macronutrients and vitamins and some things Alexei’s not entirely sure how to pronounce, at least in English -- and Alexei discovers that the boy likes Ziggy Stardust and Metallica and Aretha Franklin and Queen, and he stars putting that on more when he knows they’re both around the house.

The hockey notes are good, too, if focused on kind of old-school stuff, but Alexei doesn’t mind; he’s always down to try new stuff in his play, and he does start producing more, so. It’s a win in his book.

He learns, eventually, that the boy is called Kent and that he’s from the hellhole of a city that Alexei cannot begin to imagine why anyone would choose to live in if they weren’t here for hockey.

He starts watching movies with Alexei, too, and in that, their tastes are more similar. Kent is kind of game for anything, including Disney movies, and Alexei’s desire for Russian subtitles or dubs at the end of a long day is very on board with that.

It’s -- it’s nice, to cohabitate with someone who never generates any dishes (or if he does, meticulously puts them away totally clean) and never makes a mess, and who seems to instinctively understand when Alexei needs to be alone.

It’s really fucking nice.

Alexei blames that on the wire-crossing that happens one night when he gets home from a game and sees Kent on the couch, sprawled out all warm and inviting, and his brain, the little part of his brain that still misses the piece of shit who dumped him when he realised Alexei would never be a millionaire, says kiss your boyfriend, and Alexei does, no hesitation.

Or, well, he tries to, because his lips go straight through Kent’s forehead and he lands face first in the arm of the couch, confused and hurt, lips and nose smarting.

When he lifts his head, Kent is gone.

#patater #kent parson #alexei mashkov #*mine #ask #ask answered #stardew-allie #omgcp #ghostfic kinda

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘢 & 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳. #2

(𝘉𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘢!𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳! 𝘹 𝘌𝘥𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘕𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘵𝘰𝘯)

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺• 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯. 𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴• 18+ 𝘣𝘤 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 , 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴. 𝘈/𝘕• 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬

cherry.clafoutis index (𝘮.𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦) 𝙋𝙖𝙪𝙡 𝘿𝙖𝙣𝙤 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩:

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-The first time you saw him was an accident. Eddie wanted to approach you at the cafeteria of the institute, but he ended up bumping into you on the street.

-You thought he was so cute and shy. He could barely stand your gaze. Tall, awkward, smart and touch starved boy, your type. Even though you were a loner.

-After some words, you invited him to the cafeteria, and told him that you were a principal dancer for the institute, that you got a bachelors degree in arts a year before and that you were very alone in the city.

-He told you about his job as a forensic accountant and how much he loved the cafeteria of your workplace because the food was so good. Covering the fact that he only was there because of you.

-He orders a pumpkin pie while you pick a keto coconut muffin.

-“You’re so cute,” you told him when you noticed his cheeks getting red again after flattering his skills with the puzzle books he was caring. He was showing how to play sudoku before, and you couldn’t believe how this man was making very interesting something you never found cool.

-He was so smart, you could tell by the way he seemed to be so meticulous.

-After the sunset, you decided it was time to go home, you gave him your number. He was in the clouds, making you feel attractive, because he made pretty clear that he was drooling for you.

-Eddie was over the moon, his crush said he was cute and wanted to see him again.

-You ended up scheduling a date for Friday, and it went perfectly.

-Even though Eddie was shy, you always make him talk and share a little of his day.

-After two more dates, you kissed him. And started dating. He was taking you to the bank to make a deposit, and on the way out, he told you that your boot had a patch of dirt. After you said you looked horrible, he was fast to make a counter argument, making you smile. So you took the opportunity to grab his blushing cheeks and kiss him.

-Every Friday Eddie waited outside of the studio and walked you home to make dinner together.

-You introduced him to a healthy diet, he used to live based on cheap sandwiches, an orange and gross coffee.

-Tofu with veggies is his favorite meal made by you, he feels so happy helping you to prepare it while you listen to music on the radio.

-Eventually, he lives in your place, and you love it. (He already knew everything on your apartment)

-Your first time having sex was at midnight in the studio of the art institute lol

-It was pretty hot though.

-(I might write about this first time, but support me bc I’m shy 👉👈)

-Anyways, bathtub sex with candles and incense while the dinner is in the oven, idk

-Eddie waking up on weekends with the sound of you banging your pointe shoes against the wall to soft them. Seeing the most soft creature committing violent acts was fun for him.

-He loves watching you prepare the shoes, from sewing it, breaking the arch, and crushing the box, it’s satisfying for him.

-He’s always in the front seats at your presentations, and after it’s over, he’s giving your the most innocent and beautiful bouquet *you cry one time bc you love him so much and how much he cares for you”

-He can’t stop smiling at the sight of you wearing the most beautiful tutus and puffy dresses with sparkles everywhere.

-So protective over you, Eddie’s hand on your lower back or around your waist while you walk.

-The rainy days are so perfect, you read him “Como agua para chocolate” by Laura Esquivel (my favorite author🥺) while he brushes your wet hair.

-Dancing in the darkness, he tries to spin you like would normally happen on a pas de deux, it’s silly but so cute.

-You don’t suspect of him being the riddler.

-He questions if he should continue with his plan, bc since he meet you, he’s not alone anymore, he has everything he wished for when he was a kid.

-“Eddie?” you ask him while listening to the thunders and the rain outside.

“Yes, dear?”

“I love you”

“I love you too, a lot”

-You snuggle and he wraps his arms around you. Kissing your hair.

-Maybe under his shirts, in your closet, there was a green velvet box hidden, with a small and simple engagement ring. You were already his, he was never letting you go no matter what.

___________________________________

omg, I love Eddie🥺, maybe part 3 with more riddler interaction, wedding, or more of domestic couple + the first time having sex mini shot;)

#danonation #edward nashton x reader #edward nashton #paul dano #paul dano x reader #i need therapy #the batman #klitz the girl next door #dwayne hoover #crying in the beach #dano!riddler #the riddler #the riddler x reader #Spotify

[uhohhhstinky]

So, what about anakin and obi-wan's hair care routines? Any bar soap happening there?

ok so this sent me on a little trip and i ended up exploring hygiene generally instead of just hair care. i love the very tactile feel of fic where very slightly post-tpm anakin is adjusting to life in the temple and has to reckon with what would register as very mundane differences to other people but feel like massive shifts for him. so that influenced this exploration quite a bit.

especially when it concerns the basics of daily life like hygiene and eating habits. going off of this, i imagine that anakin’s hygiene evolves as he gets used to being a padawan and living at the temple.

so i think he would do things like wash his hair with bar soap at first! he wouldn’t know what to use exactly. i think he also would brush it too much because that’s what he’s used to. this is a good way to explain why tpm anakin’s hair is straight- because his mother brushed his wave/curl pattern flat. nobody told shmi about the curly girl method and also she was a little busy for that. she probably cut his little bowl cut with a literal bowl.

anakin’s a smart kid and figures out pretty naturally over time that when you have more regular access to water and different kinds of hygiene products there’s a variety of approaches to grooming. i like the idea that obiwan teaches him about this in bits and pieces. there’s room for this in scenarios like the bathing fic @predator-padawan wrote and also in letting anakin observe obiwan’s routine and ask his idle little boy questions about it. he would likely be the one to explain to him that you care for different hair textures and skin types in different ways. also this provides so many opportunities for obiwan to be tenderly guiding anakin through these massive life changes in small, concrete ways which has become such a huge part of their early dynamic to me now…..

anyway. once anakin has a sense of his options he settles into a pretty easygoing routine. he doesn’t wash his hair or body every day, and to care for his hair texture better as he gets older, he starts doing no ‘poo (this is part of why he looks a little greasy but i love it and think it’s very cute).

obiwan i imagine is very meticulous about hygiene and has a lot of facts in his head about skin pH and the acid mantle and hair and scalp health that govern most of his hair and skin care choices. being clean and not damaging his hair or skin is the primary focus and looking good is just kind of a secondary effect. he uses unscented and gentle products wherever possible and anything scented would be mild. anakin loves this because it means obiwan always smells like obiwan.

i’m gonna cut this off here so i don’t go forever LOL but also. obiwan is mom coded in that he is applying moisturizer after showers and before bed. and also gently nudging anakin to shower more often as a teen (anakin definitely has an unchecked body odor phase)

#ask box #this came out SO LONG I GOT SO INTO IT #i have to go to class but i’ll answer more later hehe

[milariskanavasi]

Haze & Hellfire

Chapter Six : Battered Boys and Shattered Girls

Part: 6 /(9) WIP Pairing: Eddie Munson x female OC

Summary: March 1986. Eight months after the Starcourt Mall burned down, the town of Hawkins is back on its feet. The smart, expressive leader of the D&D Hellfire Club, Eddie Munson, is determined that ‘86 will be his year, the year he finally graduates from Hawkins High and finally, maybe pluck up the courage to ask the most stone cold girl in Indiana, Dallas Haze, out. Meanwhile, Dallas Haze lives her life to the fullest by enduring the last three months of high school in the company of her cousin Chrissy, looking forward to her 18th birthday as well as planning a wicked road trip after graduation with her band, Dallas and The Velvet Haze, on the road to fame. Plus it wouldn’t be too bad if someone asked her to prom. When Eddie’s and Dallas’ paths cross in the most unexpected way, neither of them knows what lurks beneath Hawkins or what the future has planned for them.

Chapter summary: The radio silence from Hawkin’s own mystery Inc. begins to wear on the duo on the run. To calm their minds Eddie and Dallas decide to put their heads together and try to help. The escape from the painful reality backfires hard on Dallas and Eddie is again hit with the reality of being on the run up close.

Read the other parts: go to [MASTERLIST]

Chapter Six - Battered Boys and Shattered Girls

Hawkins, summer of 1985.

Who would’ve thought that Hawkins could feel like the warmest place on the earth in August?

The blazing sunshine has put the smalltown inhabitants in a zombie-like daze of pure heatstroke, not being used to temperatures of this magnitude. The concrete vibrates in the non-existent breeze and a mediocre convertible that drives by the two girls walking down the street blasting “The Boys of Summer”, testifies that it’s still the height of summer.

The well maintained gardens of one of Hawkins small residential areas shift in a cavalcade of radiant, enchanting summer colors; leaves in hundreds of shades of green in contrast to the flashing flower beds. Roses in every possible color, snow white gardenias and bright, yellow marigolds. The vegetation, although it’s a neat suburban area, is exuberant and lush, but meticulously managed. The trees are tall, the bushes are dense and perfectly cut. It’s a neat little residential area, a bit smaller than her former home area in Dallas Texas, but mostly it’s the same suburb design. Well-maintained houses, two cars in the driveway and the sound of kids running through a water dispenser in some backyard.  

Dallas throws a glance at the seventeen year old girl next to her; a strawberry blonde young woman dressed in pink track shorts and a white top with a matching pink stripe from Sears summer catalog, shining like a bronzed, tanned Skipper-doll in the blazing sun. Dallas feels how her heart almost skips a beat with happiness at the sight of her.

Chrissy Cunningham; Dallas’ gushingly pretty, bubbly and sweet cousin, also her newfound best friend. In her hand she holds an extra large mug filled with clinking ice cubes and lemonade. Just like them, the large paper cup is sweating in the scorching heat. In stark contrast to Chrissy, Dallas doesn’t follow the latest fashion trends. She would rather eat hobnails than wear pastels!

Instead, she trots along beside Chrissy, sweating like a sinner in church in her black frayed denim shorts, Springsteen t-shirt, tube socks and dirty sneakers.

Objectively, they are an odd couple to say the least. Chrissy belongs to Hawkins' High School-elite, the upper echelon that to ordinary mortals is like standing and gazing up at Mount Olympus in ancient mythology; radiant, successful, unattainable and too good to be true. Almost. It’s an exaggeration, but through field studies Dallas has established that the popular crowd is always surrounded by a certain glow of charisma, beauty and talent, and very often, wealth. And Chrissy has hit the jackpot big time, over and over!

She’s drop dead gorgeous with strawberry blonde shoulder length hair; big blue eyes and great features. She’s the head cheerleader of Hawkins High, she’s charismatic, has good grades and her family lives in a big colonial with white colons, window shutters and a picket fence. What sets her apart from the rest of the popular crew is her genuine kindness. Up until now, Dallas has never met anyone as kind hearted as Chrissy, but her good heart comes with the price of easily being taken advantage of, which ironically was what brought them together at the public pool and, in the end, the reason they’re walking here next to each other on the burning hot sidewalk.

A true ‘pinch me in the arm’-coincidence.

Another car whizz past them. The speed that is undeniably above the speed limit creates a cool, but short temperature change as it swooshes by them. Hawkins in August is almost as bad as Texas during its hottest weeks of summer, peaking this afternoon at frying eggs on the tarmac-94 degrees.

“Tell me again, how hot was the hottest you experienced in Texas?” Chrissy asks and slurps on her lemonade.

Dallas’ mouth waters at the sound of the clinking ice cubes. She chugged her own mint-lemonade a few seconds after they left the town square, but Chrissy’s more restrained and still has some left.  

“About…” Dallas wipes sweat from her forehead with the hem of her t-shirt. “97? It was hot as hell nonetheless. Think they broke the old heat record two years ago or something. I didn’t go out for like… three days?”

Chrissy releases the straw from between her wonky pearly-whites and nods.

“Thanks, it suddenly got a bit less warm around here, don’t you think?” She sighs while fanning herself with her hand.  

Dallas laughs and bumps her hip into Chrissy’s.

“So… just to be clear; you think I should do it?” Dallas asks for probably the third time since they left the ice cream shop downtown, where they’d spent another few dollars on two scoops of mint chocolate chip, classic vanilla, chocolate brownie bomb and blueberry blazzzt that, according to Chrissy, was waaay better than the ice cream at Scoops Ahoy that was the former ice cream mekka of Hawkins. “I mean, the chances of it LEADING to something serious is…” Dallas grimaces, indicating that her chances are fairly low.

“Of course!” Chrissy smiles excitedly, squinting in the bright sun. “I’m SURE there’s more girls thinking the same thing you do!”

Dallas vented her thoughts about putting an ad in Creem-magazine about wanting to form an all-girl rock band.

“In Hawkins?” Dallas asks doubtfully.

“Okay maybe not in Hawkins.” Chrissy admits. “But Indianapolis isn’t that far! There’s plenty of potential there!”

The forever optimist has spoken. Dallas smiles and picks a piece of chocolate chip from between her front teeth.

“Okay! I’ll do it then.”

“You better!” Chrissy smirks, then she gets an excited expression on her face. “Oh please, can you have matching outfits!” She exclaims, almost jumping up and down as she walks next to Dallas. “I’ve always loved bands who have matching outfits! Oh, and choreography!”

“Eh, no on the choreography. Maybe on the outfits. But only if they’re leather.” Dallas replies, thinking that it wouldn’t be such a bad idea. It worked for the Runaways! To be fair, she has a pretty neat ass. Not sure the stiff leather would think the same. “And studs.” She adds. “Lots of them!”

Chrissy squeals with excitement, hooks her arm into Dallas’ and leans her head at her shoulder as they continue down the road.

They've known each other for just a few weeks and spent almost every day together since Dallas got both her and Chrissy kicked out of the public pool. A few very intense weeks where they’ve been hanging out almost every day and night.

They’ve taken long night walks; eaten ice cream; layed on a blanket in Dallas' garden, listened to music and talked until their throats were hoarse. Chrissy has even spent the night at the Haze’s house.

One night they dug out mom and dad’s old camping tent and put it up in the garden, underneath the apple tree; other nights they slept next to each other in Dallas’ bed, reading smutty adult short stories in romance magazines and dad’s old horror fiction magazines under the covers with a flashlight, while listening to the heavy rain beat against the window and the thunder roaring over the rooftops in the neighborhood; they’ve been to a party together -that Dallas tried her best to weasel out of, without any luck- in the empty football field at Hawkins High where Dallas got a crash course in the different cliques one had to know who they was to not be labeled a complete idiot the first day of the new semester.

That night in the football field Chrissy kissed Jason “saphead” Carver for the first time, while Dallas watched from afar, making sure that it went fair and square, not liking what she witnessed for a dime. But she let them be. Partially because the banger “The Warrior” with Patty Smyth and the Scandal blasted out of a car stereo and she had to find whoever was guilty of such a genius move and partially because she’d ask Chrissy to literally scream her fucking heart out if she needed her. Luckily Chrissy didn’t need any help. Maybe because she had Jason’s icky tongue halfway down her windpipe. Either way, Dallas could listen to the song without any interruptions.

“Jason invited me to his party on Saturday.”

Speak of the devil.

“Hm.”

She leaves out the sermon on exactly what she’d rather do than spend a night drinking at Jason Carver’s place.

“Oh come on, you’ll go with me, right!?”

“I dunno…” Dallas hesitates, desperately thinking of a smoother way to decline the offer than ‘I’d rather jump off a cliff’. “Do I have to?”

“Please, please-” Chrissy pleads. “It’s gonna be great! Plus, It could be the last party of the summer before the term!”

“Oh, yeah ‘cause THAT really makes a difference.” Dallas scoffs ironically. “Having party-punch in Jason’s lavish backyard with smashed jocks and cheerleaders… wow, I can’t brace myself Chris.”

They turn left at the sign indicating that they’re now at Breakwater Drive and pass underneath a low hanging Nymansay-tree. Its dense foliage and fragrant white flowers creates a small patch of shadow in the sidewalk in sharp contrast to the sticky heat that causes the tarmac to vibrate and the tank top sticks to her back.

They stop underneath the low hanging branches to sniff the flowers and enjoy the shade, leaning up against the picket fence next to the tree trunk. From where they stand Dallas can see the big, brick house that is the Cunningham’s residence. Chrissy’s mom, Dallas’ aunt, married into money for sure. Dallas’ own mom married into secondary money, as dad works in a bank. Almost the same, right?

“Pl-pl-pl-pl-pleeeeaseeee…” Chrissy flutters her long eyelashes at her. “I really wanna go! Plus it’s a great opportunity to point everyone out for you. You know, better be prepared for when the term starts!”

“As in everyone I’m NOT going to hang out with at school anyway?”

This inauguration-rite into the popular sphere hasn’t exactly gone swell so far for Dallas. Must be the lack of pastel in her wardrobe.

“For meee?” Chrissy pouts. “Your best friend in the whole wide world?”

Damn you Chrissy Cunningham, Dallas thinks to herself. Dallas lets her shoulders down and rolls her eyes. She CAN’T say no to Chrissy for some reason. It’s her kryptonite.

“Fine! Fine!” Dallas sighs. “I’ll think about it.”

“Thank yooou!” Chrissy burst out in a triumphant smile.

They shortcuts over the perfectly cut lawn, which despite the heatwave looks as healthy and green as ever, all thanks to the hard working sprinkler that has taken a much-needed break. They pass the big front door with the big, silver numbers 537 next to it and walk around to the kitchen door. As Chrissy’s unlocked it, she sticks her sunbleached, strawberry blonde head into the opening.

“Hello?”

An act of precaution. Chrissy’s parents shouldn’t be home for at least two hours. It feels both naughty and silly to be this cautious. But they can’t be too careful. Their friendship is a strictly forbidden friendship, at least from Chrissy’s side of the family. It’s almost like Romeo and Juliet, except that Romeo is replaced by a, in Dallas's opinion, much funnier friend that also happens to be Juliet’s cousin.

“Coast’s clear.” Chrissy states.

She opens the door wide and they enter. It’s like stepping into a freezer. A big, pleasant and cool freezer. Thank god for AC!

“Jeez Louise-” Dallas groans as the cool air wraps around her. “I’d give my left foot for indoor AC. Those crappy fans just blow around dust and make you feel sick.”

“Dad installed it before summer.” Chrissy explains with a shrug as she opens the freezer and takes out two soda cans. “Come, let’s go up to my room.”

Still sighing at the cooling, amazing breeze that swirls around the big house, Dallas follows Chrissy out into the hall, up the stairs. There, they pass the enormous, grotesquely painted portrait of the Cunningham’s hanging at the landing; Chrissy in a blue dress, her father with the wandering hairline, her brother in a cardigan and her mother sitting at the front in a red dress and pearls around her neck. Everyone is smiling wide, but it’s like the artist that was hired to paint the picture could tell that the smiles and the jolly, neat facade, wasn’t anything else then just that - a facade. Dallas huffs at the sight of the portrait, before she hurries after Chrissy’s tanned legs up to the second floor.

Chrissy’s strawberry blonde locks dance around her bare, sunburned shoulders as she walks through the corridor to the white mirror-door to Chrissy’s bedroom. It has a pink wooden sign with ‘Chrissy’s room’ written on it, decorated with butterflies. A relic from her innocent childhood that has followed her up into the more complicated teenage years. She pushes the door open and they enter into a big, bright bedroom bathing in sunlight. It’s like a copy from a girly magazine; a big bed with fluffy pillows, a dresser with framed photos and a jewelry box, a wardrobe crammed with clothes in pastel shades, a crammed dressing table and a bookshelf with prizes, a few books and more photographs. A potted plant stands on the window sill; a pink Anthurium. When you can’t flaunt your friendship openly in case of a mother-related meltdown, there’s plants. Dallas brought the potted plant with her last time she came to visit - incognito. Chrissy got beyond excited over the simple gift.  

Out of pure reflex, Dallas goes straight to the plant and puts her fingers down into the soil. Smiling, she notes that Chrissy takes care of it carefully. But it looks a little sad in the grillin’ sun, so she puts it safely behind the curtain.

“You’re really taking good care of it.” Dallas turns around and plops down on the big, soft bed next to Chrissy.

“Of course!” Chrissy pops the cold soda open and takes a sip. “If only there was nail polish in that shade.” She throws a glance down at her chewed, sad setup of fingernails with some chipped, pastel blue polish left.

“Okay, where is it?” Dallas looks at Chrissy.

There’s a reason she braved all the dangers of being in the Cunningham residence as a member of the notorious Haze family.

“Yeah, right!”

Chrissy hurries out of the room, but she’s back soon, holding an old, brownish shoe box in her hands.

“I found it in the attic.” She puts it down on the bed and brushes away some dust. Faded letters written in blue ballpen appear. “Honestly, I just stumbled upon it. I don’t think mom even knows it exists, or that she still has it.” She grins. “Luckily for us.”

A secret box. A box filled with Chrissy’s mothers old photos. Chrissy had told her about it the first thing she did when they met up earlier in the day. She was up in the attic looking for a set of badminton racquets and had found the small, anonymous box behind an old trunk. Could this explain the complicated relationship between their mothers?      

Carefully, as if she was Indiana Jones himself opening a sacred, ancient tomb, Dallas removes the lid and they both dive down into the box, causing them to bump their foreheads together. Not very Indiana Jones-y.

The content is a mix of small square photos with ruffled edges, polaroids and rectangular pictures. Black and white photos and photos whose colors have faded after years of sitting in a weathered attic. They start to go through them, grab a few each and observe them under a few moments of silence. Dallas looks down at the family in one picture. It’s Christmas and she can clearly point out grandma, grandpa and the two girls in the picture as her mom and aunt. Her mom sits on her fathers arm, a younger, less wrinkly version of grandpa, and has a huge, cheeky laugh on her face as she clings to grandpa’s Christmas-tie. He looks at her with a big smile on his lips. On the floor between him and grandma, stands Chrissy’s mom with a faint smile on her face. Her blonde angelic, well combed hair stands in stark contrast to Dallas’ mom’s messy hair where the bow has almost fallen out. Another picture shows the sisters out in the garden. Another one shows them standing next to their bicycles in the street, with ‘Laura and Natalie, summer-51’ written on the back.

“Wonder what happened?” Chrissy sighs and her eyes turn sad as she puts a picture of the two sisters, dressed up as cowboys on halloween down in her pile.

“Your mom hasn’t told you?” Dallas widens her eyes at Chrissy. “Oh, yeah, right.” She quickly continues as she sees her cousin’s left eyebrow rise underneath the blonde fringe.

“Yours have?” Chrissy asks.

“Yeah.” Dallas nods. “Or I mean, partially. I suspect she hasn’t said EVERYTHING, but enough.”

“And?”

“Honestly, by now I think they’ve forgotten the core of the grudge.” Dallas shrugs. “It’s just something that’s… there. Like organically. But I got my theories.”

“Which is?” “I just think they are too different. It has always chafed.” Dallas begins, while fanning herself with the faded polaroid. “They’ve always quarreled, always been rivals, in one way or another. I don’t think mom would put it that way if I asked her, but I think that’s what it’s all about.” She observes the girls in the picture. “Blood ain’t thicker than water. I think mom tried to mend honestly, until she realized that it was pointless.”

“You think that’s why you moved away from Hawkins?”

“Nah.” Dallas shakes her mane. “Not entirely at least. But she was less tense after the move. I think the distance gave her some breathing space.”

“It’s just… hard to even imagine them being sisters at all. They’re so-” Chrissy looks up into the ceiling, to find a fitting word fitting, other than ‘different as night and day’. She sighs. “-your mom is kind, protective… while mine’s-” Chrissy pauses, can’t bring herself to say it out loud. Her chin drops and she blinks, quickly puts the picture down and takes another out one from the box. “I know it’s mean of me to think like that-” She bites her lower lip. “But sometimes I wish we were sisters. For real. That your mom was my mom too.”

Dallas reaches out and strokes Chrissy’s arm, up and down. The soft skin still radiates warmth from sun exposure and a faint scent of tropical fruits and warm, sweet coconut lies around her like a pleasant cloud, from the sunscreen she applied earlier.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t be sisters anyway, right?” Dallas smiles. “We’re family, Chris. No matter what.”  

With a little chuckle, Chrissy’s angelic face breaks out into a smile. She finds Dallas’s hand and squeezes it tightly, before widening her big eyes.

“I almost forgot!” She exclaims and jumps up from the bed like a jack-in-the-box. She hurries over to the dresser and the jewelry box. She opens it and takes something out of it. “Ta-da!”

A small, emerald green plastic case.

“Oh my god!” Dallas smiles wide. “You got it!”

“I did!” She replies excitedly. “Yesterday, in the mail!”

Chrissy hops over to the bed, sits down and holds out the small plastic box for her to see. Dallas takes it in her hands, tracing the thin, golden frame around the box lid with her index finger. With excitement glowing in their eyes, Dallas opens it.

“Oooh, sweet!”

“It’s perfect!” Chrissy gasps.  

A sound downstairs makes them both jump on the soft bed; a heavy door that opens and closes, followed by footsteps towards the hardwood floor and a voice, calling out from the foot of the stairs.

“Chrissy! Are you home?”

“Shit!” Dallas and Chrissy exclaims in unison.

“Chrissy? Chrissy, are you there?”

“I thought you said they wouldn’t be back in like an hour?” Dallas hisses at Chrissy.

“They wouldn’t.” Chrissy replies with a worried expression on her face. “We gotta hide all this!”

Quickly, they gather all the photographs and put them back into the shoe box. While Chrissy puts the small green case back into her big jewelry box, Dallas pushes the shoe box under the bed and hurries on her tippy toes towards the window. She pushes it open as the footsteps come closer, up the stairs, and climbs out on the roof. There she pushes the window down slightly and adjusts towards the brick wall next to the window, while looking around to make sure no one has seen her. A girl on top of a roof isn’t exactly typical for this area, or any area for that matter.

Inside the room, the door opens with a faint creak.

“Chrissy, why aren’t you answering when I’m calling?”

Mrs. Cunningham. Also known, unofficially, as Beelzebub.

“Mom, you’re home early.” Dallas hears Chrissy exclaim, attempting to sound as normal and unaffected as possible by her mother’s sudden entrance. “I just… dozed off. It’s so hot.”

Dallas feels how the concern grows inside her stomach. With crossed fingers, she prays to higher powers that Chrissy’s lie will hold.

“I forgot my purse and wallet, your father’s waiting in the car.” Mrs. Cunningham replies in that somewhat haughty way that Dallas finds so incredibly fucking annoying. “You’re going out?”

“Eh, just with some friends.” Chrissy lies angelic. “It’s such a nice day. I’ll be back for dinner. I promise.”

Strained silence follows upon Chrissy’s lie. Dallas would’ve brought it, but she’s not sure Mrs. Cunningham does. Carefully, not to make a sound and revealing her position, or to avoid falling straight into the big rose bushes below, Dallas moves a little to the right, so she can peek back into the room, past the sheer curtains.

Mrs. Cunningham stands in the doorway to the room, looking at Chrissy who’s sitting on the bed. Her sharp, gray eyes narrow as she observes her daughter like a hawk protecting its prey. Dallas can tell Chrissy’s fiddling nervously with her poor, massacred cuticles. There’s no one that goes through a box of bandaids as fast as Chris. Maybe she already feels a twinge of worry. She’s probably nervous down to the marrow.

“You’re not leaving the house in those shorts, are you?” Mrs. Cunningham’s narrowed eyes have landed on Chrissy’s track shorts.  

Yeah, Dallas’ concern was justified. Big time.

“Y-yes?” Chrissy says shaky. “I like them.”

It’s brave of her to say something like that. It wasn’t an indifferent, kind question she answered - she stood up for herself. But it doesn’t go down well with her mother.

“You’ve gone a little pudgy.” Mrs. Cunningham snaps in reply. “It’s all that ice cream you’ve been eating.” She rolls her eyes and sighs. “How do you expect to stay head cheerleader if-”

“Mom, I-”

“Don’t be impudent, Chrissy.” Mrs. Cunningham cuts off, sharp as a knife. “I care about you.” She nods her head a little and snarls her mouth.

A very fucking strange way to show someone that they care, Dallas thinks to herself and grinds her teeth.

“Head cheerleaders aren’t pudgy, that’s for the lesser, the ordinary girls.” Mrs. Cunningham continues. “Do you want to be ordinary?”

Dallas’ temples are throbbing and she clenches her hands so tightly that her knuckles are close to bursting out of the thin, tanned skin on the back of her hands. The only thing stopping her from intervening and giving Mrs. Cunningham a telling-off like no other is her promise to Chrissy. Do not intervene. A promise that feels like deep stab wounds. She hates Chrissy’s mother, her own aunt, with her body and soul. What a vile, horrible human being she is! To think that her kind, mildly overprotective mom is the sister of such a shrew is as incomprehensible as if Ozzy Osbourne were to start singing opera.

“Sorry.” Chrissy utters faintly.

“Believe me, there’s lots of other girls in line for the spot as head cheerleader - in line to be extraordinary.”

“Yes.” Chrissy replies faintly.

“Good.” Mrs. Cunningham nods. “We’ll be back in an hour. If you’re going out, change into something-” She rolls her eyes a little. “Roomier.”

Mrs. Cunningham closes the door as she leaves the room and Dallas waits for her steps to die out as she walks downstairs. Then Dallas pushes the window open and climbs back inside, carefully, not to tip over the Anthurium in its pot. Chrissy remains on her bed with her back towards her. The bronzy, sunkissed shoulders have started to shiver while a quiet sobbing sound comes from Chrissy’s mouth. On her tiptoes Dallas hurries over to the door and turns the lock. Then she throws herself down next to her now crying cousin on the bed and clasps her in a tight, protective hug while pressing her cheek to Chrissy’s now tear drenched face.

“I’m here.” Dallas says quietly and puts a kiss on Chrissy’s hair, while softly rocking her side to side. “I’m here, Chris.”

Still crying and shaking, Chrissy hugs her arm, leans into her, and lets herself break down in Dallas’ arms.

It breaks Dallas’ heart seeing Chrissy like this; the anger boils inside of Dallas’ chest as she squeezes Chrissy even harder.  

“I’m here.” Dallas masses. “I’m here…”

“Oh- Dallas…” Chrissy pleadingly sobs and sniffles loudly. “Dallas, don’t ever leave me. Please?”

“I won’t, Chris.” Dallas says assuringly. “I will always be here. I PROMISE. No matter what.” She manages to release one arm around Chrissy and hooks her little finger around Chrissy’s, whose poor cuticle looks worse than Capone’s St. Valentine’s day massacre. “Pinky promise on that.”

Eddies POV:

“Heeelp me! Eddie, please, help!”

Abruptly, with his heart on the verge of shooting out of his chest, Eddie’s jolted out of his sleeping state by Chrissy’s loud, deafening scream. Once again, like a broken record, her badly deformed face kept him in a state of paralyzed fear as her eyes snapped back inside her head as dark, thick blood dripped down from the ceiling of the trailer. Eddie swallows hard. Chrissy’s chilling scream of agony echoes inside his head to the beat of his racing heart, hammering at his ribcage. While staring drowsily up into the roof, out of breath from sheer panic, Eddie tries to collect his thoughts.

It was a dream. Just a dream. With his heart halfway up his throat and his pulse working its way down to a normal pace, Eddie lifts his arm and looks at his wristwatch. It’s almost eleven. A dusky, tired ray of pale sunlight seeps into the blinds. He’s back in Rick’s cabin. Not that he ever left it, but the sight of the messy room and the dust particles hazily dancing around the air is a relief in contrast to his dream. The sun outside the covered windows is seemingly as newly awake as he is; it hasn’t bothered to get up either.

Eddie’s slept more than he has in a long time. But there’s something holding him back from getting ahead of the sun and rolling out of bed. Dallas Haze, clinging over him like a monkey holding on to a tree trunk. Her long, brown hair flowing around her bare skin like soft seaweed and she snores. A warm surge spreads throughout his blood as the thought of what caused them to lie here tangled up in each other, naked, appears in his mind.

It hits him like an improved combat throw in the solar plexus. They’re naked. Before he fell into his now normal sleeping behavior of nightmares, he dreamt the most incredible dream. To be really sure it wasn’t a dream, Eddie grabs a hold of the blankets and lifts, just to check. “Jesus fuckin’-” He swallows as the blanket glides out of his hand. As naked as the day they were born. “Oh my god!”

Eddie puts his hand over his forehead as it all comes back to him like a mental tidal wave. A faint whistle escapes his mouth. Last night was one of the most amazing nights of his life. Maybe even better than the epic “Wrath of Morkoth’-campaign in the summer of ‘84, that had him in a state of euphoria for almost two weeks afterwards. It was beyond anything he’d ever experienced. The campaign kept him and the other members of the club in a tight grip for four days; they couldn’t prioritize sleep or food when they were in the middle of a marine battle in the abyss against the ferocious kraken.

Eddie glances down at Dallas. Even though she snores pretty loud, she’s not Morkoth. But honestly, this may top that epic campaign-experience.

Carefully, Eddie adjusts so he can look at her. Being this close for real is beyond his wildest dreams. He has always been shaking in his boots around Dallas Haze; whenever she was nearby or walked past in the hallway he became dazed and momentarily mute. He’d try his best to stay normal and act confident, but it was as impossible as being unfazed by a volcanic eruption happening next to you. A faint chuckle escapes his mouth as he thinks of it; how he sometimes thought that he wouldn’t truly be confident until she became his - IF that would ever happen except in his most unrestrained daydreams, dreamt up in his bedroom at the trailer park. Well, here he is - still as dumbfounded as before he was invited into her sphere.

The prickling in front of his eyes makes Eddie realize that he’s holding his breath. He inhales deeply and lets out a sigh just as Dallas starts to move and grunt, then opens her eyes.  

“Good morning.” Eddie spouts gawky.  

“Hi.” Dallas replies raspy and stretches. “Shit, what time is it?”

"Does it matter?”

She’s letting out a big yawn and Eddie makes sure not to make any sudden moves; hoping that she won’t fly out of bed regretting it all, he glances down at her, but she doesn’t seem to intend to move. Instead of asking again, she grabs a hold of his arm and checks his wrist watch herself.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Another large yawn escapes her mouth.

Her arm sweeps in an arc through the air and lands on top of him. Soft fingertips start to stroke his arm up and down. 

“About last night-” 

The words get stuck in his throat and the sudden muteness kicks in. What is he going to say? He didn’t have a plan to begin with when he opened his pie hole. Now it sounds like he regrets it all, which is the stark opposite from the truth. Dallas however doesn’t seem to take notice of his silent mental meltdown. 

“It was nice.” She smiles. “I liked it.” 

Nice, is that good? Where on the quality-scale of sex does ‘nice’ fit in? A tiny bit of disappointment rushes over him for a matter of seconds. Then curiosity takes over. With his nerves on the outside of his body, Eddie’s eyes flicker between her lips and her eyes as he plucks up every bit of courage he has.

“Which means…” He coaxes cautiously.

A light slap on the chest is what he gets in reply.

“Ouch!”

Dallas looks at him with an expression asking ‘you gotta be joking, right?’.

“You didn’t notice I enjoyed myself?”

“Just wanted to make sure.” Eddie says, rubbing his chest.

He feels a bit dumb. Of course he noticed.

“Jeez Louise...” Dallas sighs. “You’re funny.” Then she rolls her eyes dramatically and makes an even more dramatic sigh and flutters her hand in the air. “Ah, marvelous ‘twas!” She exclaims loud and theatrically. “Goodness gracious, you know how to spoil a lady, Mr. Munson!” She chirps silly. “The way you undertook my bosom so hungrily and how you ravished-”  

“I get it, I get it!” Eddie intervenes before the heat on his cheeks increases even more and turns his face into a tomato. “It was amazing.”

“I know.” Dallas replies, with a peculiar smirk.

“What is it?”

“You’re doing it again. Smiling.” Dallas replies. “I like it. It’s pretty.”

Again, his face heathens up.

“Your’s is prettier.” Eddie mumbles, unaccustomed to compliments. “You have very nice teeth. They’re perfect.”

Without warning, Dallas releases herself from him and sits up, making the mattress squeak.

“What is it?” Eddie looks worried at her naked back. “What’s wrong?”

Did he say something wrong? Was it the part about her teeth? They’re perfect, what could be wrong about that?  

In all honesty he doesn’t know shit about girls or being in this sort of situation with a girl; it could be anything?! At breakneck speed, Eddie’s brain begins to process every little detail that’s happened since they awoke.  

“I was just thinking…” Dallas interrupts his headwork and turns around.

“About what?”

“When all this is over-” Dallas inhales deeply, while fiddling with the hem of the blanket. “I mean, when your name’s been cleared. Van Halen’s gonna be playing at Market Square on May 3rd. Maybe you’d like to go with me, If you’re not busy?” She holds up two wonky fingers in the air, a peculiar detail he hasn’t noticed before about her. “I got two tickets from my grandma on my pre-birthday hangout.”

She seems nervous, while pulling out small threads from the blanket.

“And…” Eddie coaxes, peeking out at the nervous mess of a girl from under his curly bangs.

This isn’t a side of her he’s seen before.

”It’s not the same without Lee Roth of course but-” Dallas looks up at him. “-it might be cool?”

What is he going to say? He’s baffled, having never been asked THE question with a Q before, but he quickly pulls himself together.

“Yeah! Of course!”

Upon his reply, that he almost shouted at her, Dallas cracks up in a sunny smile.

“Great!” She hooks a tangle of her brown hair around her index finger and puts it behind her ear and rolls her eyes theatrically. “Then there’s rumors that Maiden’s going to release something new.” She continues. “That means-”

“Are you asking me out twice, Dallas Daisy Haze?”

To say it out loud is even more terrifying than just thinking it inside his head. But Eddie’s mouth works a lot faster than the part of his brain in charge of his impulse. The usage of her full name makes the corners of Dallas’ mouth turn into a cheeky grin.

“Maybe.”

Without further ado she gets up from the pull out sofa. The striped sunlight hits her naked behind, making her bare skin look tiger striped. What comes to mind first at the sight of her, bathing in the rather bland light in all her naked glory, is Druuna from Morbus Gravis. As fast as the thought emerges in his head it disappears. A sudden flush of shame flows over Eddie; he can’t think of her like that. Morbus Gravis isn’t real. It’s just a stupid comic that degrades women. What stands in front of him is a real person, of flesh and blood and rock ‘n’ roll, plus a fascinating, kick-ass knowledge about fantasy novels. Dallas is real, Druuna isn’t. And Dallas Haze would sucker punch Druuna all the way to the last paragraph of the summer issue of Heavy Metal Magazine.

“Jeez, what is it now?”

Eddie’s pulled away from the world of comic magazines and back to the present. Dallas has turned to look at him. It’s clear as day that she knows what he thinks of. If anything, his staring gaze gives him away.

“Nothing.” Eddie mumbles as his cheeks start to heat up.

“Mhm, sure.” She grins amused and narrows her eyes. “Hold on to that thought though.”

For how long? He wants to ask, but doesn’t. Instead he observes with fascination as she gets dressed; wrestles on her jeans and pulls her tee over her head without putting on her bra. Still with the view of her bare breasts glued on his retina -damn, he’s only human- he gets up and gets dressed as she disappears into the bathroom.

He feels rested and envigored, still riding on the high of endorphins from last night. When she returns he’s back in his regular uniform, shoes and all.  

“Have you heard anything?” Dallas asks and picks up her shoes. “The radio’s been awfully quiet.”

“The radio?”

Dallas eyebrows disappear underneath her bangs. She nods towards the radio standing on the coffee table and steps into the black and white shoes.

“That radio.”  

Oh, yeah. Dustin put it inside his hand before they ran off, to drive after the patrol cars the other day. He’d almost forgotten about it. It’s been dead silent since then. That’s not a good sign.  

“Completely dead, I guess.” Eddie sighs at the sight of the silent radio.

“Well, we can’t just sit here doing nothing.” Dallas states and throws out her arms.

“What are we supposed to do then?”

An ounce of frustration is noticeable in his tone. They’re trapped here. He regrets it immediately, but Dallas doesn’t seem to have taken notice.

“We might as well do our own investigation.” She suggests. “If only to make the time go a little faster.” From the crammed side table next to the couch with a weathered lamp, she takes a red marker-pen. “All we need now is a whiteboard…”

They look around the living room. Rick’s got a lot of crap lying around, but Eddie knows for a fact that he doesn’t have a whiteboard. His eyes land on the smiley face-poster over the pull out bed and he gets an idea. Quickly he steps up onto the squeaky sofa, the white sneakers sink into the mattress while he with his tongue between his teeth rips the poster down from the wall; he’ll buy Rick a new one if he’ll ever notice that it’s gone. He hurries out into the kitchen and finds a roll of duct tape, hurries back into the living room and over to a clean piece of the living room wall. There he slaps up the poster with the backside out and puts four pieces of tape in the corners.  

“Voila!”

“Clever.” Dallas nods impressed.

With a ‘plop’ she removes the cap from the pen and starts to write down names, draw circles around them and connect the names with quickly drawn lines. Soon Eddie’s standing in front of a spider’s web of people connected to each other, with two big question marks - how and why?

“Just by looking at it like this doesn’t really make a lot more sense.” Dallas says, tapping her chin with the bottom part of the pen. “What do you think?”

“Me?”

“You’re the eyewitness, which is the same as the most important clue!” She points at him with the pen.

Eddie sighs and once again he sweeps over the web of red names and lines.

“Why her?”

“Exactly.” Dallas nods. “You mentioned she seemed nervous, right?”

“Yeah. Is that weird?” Eddie asks. How would he know?

“Not really.” Dallas shakes her head. “Her mom IS the wicked witch of the west, but I get what you mean. From what you’ve said she seemed more nervous than usual. Something was bothering her. But what?”

“Might be in hindsight, but she seemed more scared than nervous. As if she was followed. Did she know she would be attacked?” Eddie suggests.

“Wouldn’t she be even more terrified then?” The wrinkle between Dallas’ eyebrows has grown deeper. “Maybe she felt something was weird, but didn’t know what it was?”

She removes the cap from the pen and writes ‘Vecna’ in the lower right corner of the mind map, with a spiky circle around. With a squeaky sound, the red marker goes in between Chrissy’s name and Vecna, followed by another question mark.

“That’s it.” Dallas says. “Between Chrissy and Vecna, it’s empty. We don’t know the motive. The big old why?”

Eddie sighs deeply. They’re stuck.

“I hope the others got more luck.” He says.

“Yeah.” Dallas huffs. “We gotta solve this. Fast! The cops aren’t exactly the only ones looking for you.” She glances in his direction. “Jason’s up to something. I know that.”

Eddie scoffs.

“You think he’s dangerous?” He asks.

”He ain’t no boy scout.” Dallas admits. “Not that bright either, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be a threat.”  

Eddie huffs, but he knows she’s right. Deep down he’s scared. The mob has been stirred up and soon the cup will run over. If a solution to this doesn't come soon enough, the police won’t be able to prevent riots and he will be in an ever greater danger. Honestly he’d prefer the cops over an angry mob any day. Jason and his cronies wouldn’t hesitate to tear him to shreds. They are past demanding an explanation at this point. They’ve found their scapegoat and want revenge for what happened to Chrissy from the one responsible for her death. That Eddie happened to just be a witness won’t be taken into consideration.  

Again, it’s as if Dallas can read his mind, or if anything she can see the worry in his eyes. She takes his hand and squeezes it tight.

“It’ll be alright.”

They are such simple words, but it feels so much better to hear them from her.

“Let’s crack this case.” Eddie smiles back. “Or better; you crack it, and I’ll find us something to eat.”

If Dallas wants to play Sherlock Holmes he’d happily be Watson in the background. Eddie struts out into the small, bombarded kitchen. He hasn’t exactly prioritized the dishes. A frantic search for edibles starts as he continues to ignore the dirty plates and cutlery. But for every cabin he opens he gets more and more disappointed. The fridge is empty. There’s no bread. No beer. Nothing!

In the cupboard over the stove he strikes bingo, almost. A lonely can of Spaghetti-O’s.

“This will do.” Eddie sighs. If he’ll get out of this safe and sound he’ll never eat another can of Spaghetti-O’s in his life. “We’re out of food.” He hollers as he grabs the can and slams the cupboard close.

“Like… out-out?” Dallas calls back.

“Yup.” Eddie takes out a worn enamel pan and turns on the gas on the stove. “Great… I’ll starve before the cops get me.” He mutters. His last meal will be canned soup with pasta O’s.  

Under continuous muttering he finds himself a wooden spatula in a drawer and drops it into the pan, cracks the can open and turns it upside down over the pan. Sloppily he swirls it around until it starts to boil. In a cupboard he finds the last clean deep plate in the house for Dallas; he himself might as well eat straight from the pot, so he pours half of the soup into the plate and leaves the other half in the pot.

With the hot plate in one hand and the pot in the other he hurries out into the living room. Miss Sherlock Haze is still deeply sunken in the web of red lines and names. The poor marker is soon to be long gone as she has twirled it around a strand of her hair.  

“Here, eat.” Eddie puts her plate down on the table and plops down on the couch, while shoving Spaghetti-O’s into his mouth. “Come here. Better eat when it’s warm.”

From his spot he can watch her shift weight from one side to the other, while she scribbles down names, theories and question marks. Mostly it’s the latter.  

“Hopefully the others can fill in the gaps.” Dallas says while taking a spoonful of soup, putting it in her mouth.

She turns around, puts the plate on the table again and crashes into the couch next to him. As she does, she reaches her arms towards the ceiling and stretches. Immediately, like if she’d revealed a Batman lantern, Eddie’s eyes are drawn to her tee. She didn’t put on the bra. She doesn’t wear a bra. Quickly, Eddie shifts his gaze away and swallows.    

“What the heck are they doing anyway?”

“I… have no idea.” Eddie replies, glancing at her in the corner of his eye. She’s so pretty. “Ehm, your food’s getting cold.”

Dallas turns her head and looks at him, without saying a word. She has a peculiar, sneaky twinkle in her eyes. Did she notice him staring? Her incredible hair dances around her face whatever move she makes, like it has its own rhythm and soul. For a moment they just look at each other. Eddie swallows his mouthful of Spaghetti-O’s, feeling it as if his pumping heart makes the whole couch bounce with the beat of it. His body feels warm and tingly. Would it be wrong to kiss her now, Eddie reasons with himself, while he wets his lips with his tongue.

Then it's as if they are drawn to each other like magnets, into frenzy, wet kissing. It’s a miracle he manages to put the enamel pot on the coffee table without causing a messy accident.

The familiar surge of yearning surges through Eddie’s hands as they come to rest on her face and neck, when his tongue pries in between Dallas’ lips. She replies the messy kiss eagerly, clutching at the fabric in his shirt to pull him closer, pressing him against her soft body and drags him with her backwards, down on the couch.

“The radio’s turned off, right?” Dallas gasps, tugging on the washed out Hellfire-print.

Eddie cuts her off by pressing his lips to hers in a sloppy, hungry kiss.  

“We’ll think about that later.” He whispers.

In all honesty, he doesn’t give a damn right now. If the others happen to hear that’s their problem.

“Weren’t you hungry?” Dallas smiles towards his lips.

“Not for food.”

In one motion he drags the shirt over his head and throws it on the floor. He can’t resist smiling as he sees how Dallas’ eyes twinkles like a starry night and the corners of her mouth turns into a rapturous smile at the sight of his bare torso. Breathing heavily, she caresses his bare chest, tracing his happy trail with the tip of her finger, towards the belt buckle.

Her upper teeth sinks into her lower lip as she hooks her finger under the buckle and tugs at it slightly, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

Eddie won’t keep her waiting; it’s tempting, seeing her lose it in front of his eyes, but he’s neither sinister or able to be that restrained in this heated moment. He wants her as much as she seems to want him, an intoxicating realization.

While he fumbles with his belt and zippers, Dallas wrangles out of her jeans and kicks them away  through the living room. The unmistakable sound of a lamp toppling somewhere behind his back makes him grin wide and raise his eyebrow at her.  

“Well aimed, milady.” He says softly, hooks his arm around her neck and pulls her up in a sitting position.

Dallas pulls the white t-shirt over her head and Eddie watches in awe when her breasts pop out in all their glory. The long scar runs like a canyon in between. It looks more like a battle scar than ever.

Knowing exactly what kind of sensation he wants to cause her, Eddie begins to fondle her breasts, whereupon his lips start to kiss her exposed skin, up and down the scar, then find one of her nipples and starts to suck on it.

“Oh, Eddie.”

Her head falls back and she purrs with delight. Her fingers run through his hair, gripping it as his tongue swirls around the stiff, wondrous button and causes him to moan and grind himself towards her.

Carefully he lowers her back down on the couch, releases his mouth from her breast and pulls her panties off.

With the help of his tongue he wets his fingers, and grunts as he places the tips towards her bud and carefully lets them glide around the magical spot. Dallas shuts her eyes and her breathing gets heavy and more vivacious, something between breathing and moaning. She’s glistening with arousal and with a throbbing erection he continues to carefully rub her clit, before he moves on, down between her soaked folds. Dallas gasps as he thrusts two of his ring clad fingers inside her tight entrance.

Eddie can feel her pussy tighten around him as he, knuckles-deep inside of her, curls his fingers against the spot that makes her thighs quiver.

“Oh- fuuuck.”

Her entire body radiates that she doesn’t want him to stop massaging her pussy, arching her back and squirm by his hand as he fucks her at the perfect pace that sets her nerves on fire.

“Oh my god- Eddie, I’m gonna cum!”

He won’t prevent her from doing so. Instead he intensifies the pace on instinct. He can feel her clit throb against the palm of his hand and the tension tighten in her stomach as every little muscle inside of her clench as she, completely lost in pleasure, reaches her climax.

“Watching you is-” Eddie pants, then whistles to make a point. “Wild.”

“Your fingers are wild.” Dallas sighs and supports herself with her elbow. She hooks her finger into the hem of his boxers. “The rumor about guitarists might be true, after all.”

“What’s that?” Eddie asks while he removes the boxers.

On still shaky legs, Dallas throws her right leg over his lap and straddles him majestically, a sight that would tempt even the most duteous choirboy into sinning.

“Dexterity.” She smiles at his reaction. “You like what you see?”

“You have no idea.” Eddie gasps and pulls her towards him and starts to kiss, suck and nibble on her neck. “You’re crazy.”

Satisfied with the answer, Dallas grabs a firm hold around his cock, pumps it up and down before placing it at the entrance of her wet, warm pussy. A hand underneath his cheek forces Eddie to remove his mouth from her neck. Slowly, without breaking eye contact with him for a second, Dallas sinks down over him. Eddie’s choked gasp turns into a delighted moan when his cock disappears into her completely.

“Oh my god!” Eddie’s hips buckle up desperately, eagerly wanting to go even deeper. He’s never been ridden before in his life.  

Slowly, while Dallas puts her hands on his shoulder and neck, she starts to grind on his lap, causing Eddie’s eyes to roll back into his skull and his hands to clasp around her thighs. As she increases the pace and then starts to bounce, he almost sees a sky full of stars in front of his eyes.

“You like it?” She pants breathlessly, unable to stop smiling at his reaction. “Hell yeah…” Eddie puts his hands up on each side of her face, looking her straight in the eyes. “Don’t stop. Fuck, don’t stop.” He pleads.

He’s not sure how much longer he’ll last if she keeps doing this sorcery, but he doesn’t want her to stop doing it either; she fucks like a goddamn hurricane and he’s happily swept along for the ride, but how long he’ll last on this pace is something else.

Convulsively he grabs her hips and helps her bounce, slamming her warm body down over his cock. He can feel it, the grand finale, coming closer as the surge gets harder to restrain as Dallas’ inner walls start to tremble violently.

“Oh god- Eddie I’m- I’m coming!” Dallas whimpers and buries her face in his shoulder.

Eddie holds onto her thighs hard and prickles up every sense in his body to be able to handle the experience of Dallas Haze unrestrained riding herself, and him for that matter, to orgasm. He lets go of every attempt to hold back, pants and groans when the orgasm hits him as powerful as a roaring avalanche.

"Christ, Daise, fuck...”

From his mouth a loud groan rises as he releases himself inside of her. Instinctively he squeezes his eyes shut and slams his hips into hers repeatedly, eager to elongate every ounce of pleasure for them both that he’s capable of.

“Haah… aahh…” Eddie gasps and his head falls back against the couch backrest. He slows down, then stops and just feels the tingling aftermath of really fucking good sex. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

In reply he gets something in between a chuckle and a moan as Dallas throws her long mane out of her flushed face and looks down at him dizzily.

“Uhu.” Heavily panting as if he’s just ran a marathon, while sweat trickles down his forehead, Eddie stares up at her with wide eyes and a slack jaw, lips parted so he can get enough oxygen.

This is a view he could get used to.

Dallas POV:

In wonder, while running her hands through his soft curls, Dallas takes in the pretty face next to hers. He really is something else, she thinks while shifting her gaze down to his soft, full lips.

They’re lying squeezed together on the couch underneath a blanket, still somewhat out of breath.

“You believe me now?” Dallas asks.

The back of Eddie’s finger runs down her cheek and he gives her a smile that causes her toes to curl. Jeez, she’s floored, totally fucking bedazzled with him and his insanely brown eyes.

“Mhm.” He nods down at her. “That was… wild. Epic.”

An evaluation as good as any; she could definitely scribble it down on her grade card without blinking.

Dallas Daisy Haze; mathematics - average (thanks to dad pretending to be her); English - impressive; science - could do better; PE - can slam a 180 pound dude in a bathing suit into the floor; music - won a radio rock band competition which should explain it all; carnal knowledge - epic!

Dallas smirks and adjusts, nudging herself closer to Eddie’s warm, soft naked body.

“You called me Daise.”

“Huh?” Eddie’s eyes flicker. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that.”

“It’s okay. I kind of liked it.” Quickly she raises a warning finger. “Don’t make it a habit though.”

“Whatever you say, milady.”

To her surprise, Eddie starts to hum faintly. The outer parts of her lips curl upward when she realizes that the lazily hummed tune is REO Speedwagon’s putting each and every rock chic’s heart on fire-rock ballad “Can’t fight this feeling” while plucking with a strand of her hair.  

“I didn’t know dungeon masters knew cheesy epic rock ballads?”

“They don’t.” Eddie replies.  

“I must be dreaming then.”

Eddie leans in and glues his lips towards hers. His kiss is messy and sloppy, with more teeth than lips, but it’s still the hottest thing Dallas’ experienced, one of many in the recent half an hour.

“Nah, no dream.” He whispers. “And I do have a radio in my van.”

The fiery bundle of desire and yearning Dallas feels for Eddie Munson that’s wrapped up somewhere between her torso and her toes sends signals to the brain that if they continue like this she’ll have to straddle him like a cowboy on a rodeo again and race herself to at least two more orgasms. There doesn’t seem to be an end to her appetite.  

It’s her stomach that’s interrupting her steamy thought of begging Eddie to live up to the sobriquet “the freak” Munson. She’s hungry. Very hungry.

“How about that soup?” Dallas interrupts the kissing. “Or else I’ll pass out.”

“Then I’ll just kiss you back to life.” Eddie places another wet kiss on her mouth. “Like that sleepy lady in that movie.”

It’s tempting, but as her stomach growls out loud, round two has to wait.

Once again, like when they awoke earlier, they start to sort out the scattered clothes and get dressed before they return to the lukewarm Spaghetti-O’s. Physical activities really make you hungry. Between chewing, Dallas’ eyes wander to the radio on the dinner table. Why haven’t they stayed in touch? Maybe it’s broken?

“Are there any batteries in that thing?”

While scooping up the last drops of soup, she watches as Eddie kicks himself off the couch and grabs the walkie-talkie from the table.

“Of course it is!” He exclaims with his mouth full of Spaghetti-O’s.

“You’ve checked?”

In response Eddie holds up a middle finger her way with a wry smile, leaving out a verbal answer; maybe out of teasingness or if it’s because his nerves have started to go through his skin. Her own nerves have started to feel restless. She puts her plate away and glances through her bangs at Eddie as he paces the living room with the pan in one hand, while he continues to converse to the silent radio he’s holding in the other.  

”Dustin, can you hear me?”

“There’s no one there.” Dallas repeats.

“Dustin? Earth to Dustin?”

To both hers and Eddie’s great surprise, the radio crackles and a raspy voice is heard through the radio-speaker. But it’s not Dustin.

“Hey, it’s Nancy.”

Wide eyed and with gaping mouths, Dallas and Eddie stare at each other in confusion, before Eddie regains his composure, points at her and mimes “I told you”. But it’s clear that they’re both thinking the same thing; What is Nancy Wheeler doing on the radio?

“Wheeler? Hey!” Eddie pipes up instantly, eyes wide in excitement by the response on the other line.

“Nancy?” Dallas furrows her brows and climbs out of the sunken couch. “Nancy, is that you?”    

“Dallas?” The voice asks back.

“Oh my god-” Dallas smiles wide in surprise. “Mystery Inc. has recruited Nancy Drew!”

“So yeah, listen. We’re gonna need a food delivery soon or else we’re gonna starve.” Eddie glances over at Dallas. “Unless you want us going out into the world?”

“No, no!” Nancy is quick to reply. “Don’t do that.”

“Yeah, also-” Eddie continues. “-can you pick up a six-pack also? I know, it’s shit, drinking right now, but… A couple of cold beers would really calm my nerves.”

Dallas gives him a punch on the arm. In the background, even though the quality of the crackling radio isn’t exactly Hi-Fi, they can hear noises and other voices.  

“Was that yawning?” Dallas intervenes, before Eddie starts to make more demands. “Did you sleep?”

Now Dallas’ sure she hears other voices, followed by an ‘ouch’ and a thud; someone’s been awoken by a fist punch at the arm.  

“Is it Eddie?” Someone asks.

“We’ve done some investigation.” Nancy replies, not taking notice of the question behind her.

”All night.” They hear someone yawn loudly in the back.

”Who’s that?” Eddie asks.

”Lucas.” Nancy replies.

”Sinclair!” Eddie exclaims.

“Eddie!” Lucas Sinclair’s voice grows stronger inside the speaker as he moves closer to the radio on the other side. “Listen, Jason’s after you. He’s on the warpath, for real. They all are.”

Dallas and Eddie look worried at each other.

“Yeah we sort of got that impression too, Sinclair.” Eddie replies into the speaker. “Good to have you on board, by the way.”

“Eddie, I’m so, so sorry-”

“Hey guys!” Dustin shouts on the other end. ”How are you doing?”  

“We-” Dallas looks at Eddie, who shakes his head over Dustin Henderson’s impulsiveness. ”-did some brainstorming on our own, you might say.” She throws a glance on the backside of the smiley-poster taped up on the wall, filled with nothing but loose ends. “Please tell us you got something. Anything.”

For a moment both her and Eddie are sure the radio died. Dead silence follows on her plea.

“Hello?” Eddie calls. “Wheeler?”

“There’s been another murder.”

Just what they didn’t want to hear. Anything but that. Dallas swallows, not sure she wants to hear more.

“Fred Benson.”

“Shit…” Eddie whispers. “Where?”

“The highway.” Robin says. “It’s definitely our guy.”

“Vecna.”

“We know, Dustin!” Steve sighs in the background.  

“There’s more.” Nancy continues. “Fred and Chrissy both came to Miss Kelley’s counseling. Same symptoms. Headaches, nightmares, nosebleeds. Five days apart. It adds up!”

“It’s like an omen.”

Dallas deep dives into her head. Headaches. Chrissy had complained about headaches. She had looked a lot more tired than usual, but Dallas thought it was nerves and the pre-spring break tiredness kicking in early.

“Oh my god.” Dallas whispers and stares at Eddie. “That’s it!” She exclaims. “The motive!”

”She didn’t dare to tell anyone-” Max says.

”Because the symptoms were too common for trauma.” Dallas fills in. “That’s why she went to see Miss Kelley.”  

”She couldn’t have known.” Max says on the other end. “Just like Fred.”

“Not until it was too late.” Dallas lets out in a sigh. “You think there’s others? I mean, how many goes to see Miss Kelley on a regular basis? That’s… many.”

They go quiet again.

“What is it? What is it you don’t tell us?”

“Vecna’s next victim.” Max says monotonous. “It’s me. I’ve got all the symptoms.”

One could hear a needle drop to the floor. Undoubtedly they heard right. Max is next. One of theirs is the next victim.  

”The rest’s… pretty unclear.” Nancy says. “We’re hoping to get some answers today.”

“How?”

”We’re going to Pennhurst. We think someone named Victor Creel might be able to help us.” Nancy tells, but she doesn’t sound entirely convinced. “It’s a loose end, but that’s all we got.”

“Pennhurst, as in THE Pennhurst?” Eddie asks in disbelief. “As in THE asylum?!” He clenches his jaw and closes his eyes. “Fuck…”

“We think it might be a lead.”

If that’s all they got, to put their faith in a locked up lunatic, Dallas understands Eddie’s frustrated reaction. As Eddie sighs deeply and tries to collect himself, doing a great job not punching holes in the walls, Dallas snaps the radio out of his hand.

“I really don’t wanna rush anything here, guys.” She says in a low tone into the radio. “But-” She cuts herself off at the sight of Eddie, pacing the room.  

It’s not about rushing anything. You can’t rush trying to find a needle in a haystack. This will have to take the time it’ll take. They’re dealing with supernatural things, and the group on the other side of the radio has -regardless of how surreal it all is- been through similar oddities before, plus and minus a girl with superpowers.

How little patience Eddie and Dallas have doesn’t matter if the others don’t get to do their thing, regardless if that means going to a mental asylum in search of clues. Whatever it takes to keep Eddie alive and hidden, Dallas thinks. That’s what she has to focus on. In the corner of her eyes she watches the curly haired metalhead that has planted a swarm of butterflies in her stomach.

She lost Chrissy, she can’t lose Eddie too.

“If you think it’ll give you answers…” Dallas whispers into the radio. “Just… fix this. And be careful. You hear me?”

“You too. We’ll stay in touch.”  

“Yeah.”

The radio goes quiet. Dallas and Eddie look at each other. All of a sudden the situation has become even more strained. Max is in danger, another murder has happened, they’re hungry and the others are way too busy right now to act as food delivery service.  

“I’ll get us some food. I won’t just sit here and starve.” Dallas gets up and rips her jacket from a chair.

The frustration causes her to feel claustrophobic.  

“What?” Eddie scoffs with eyes big as basketballs. “What if someone sees you? You said it yourself, you just ran out the door without telling anyone. You don’t think you’re wanted too, missy?”  

“Better me than you, right?” Dallas shrugs and threads her arms into the jacket. “I’ll just be careful, try not to be seen. Like Frodo!” She nods convincingly. “I’ll get you some clean clothes too, if you want? maybe even a six-pack?”

“You’re trying to bribe me with beer, Haze?”

“As I said, better me than you.” Dallas repeats. “I’ll get a lift into town and take the bike back. What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

Eddie looks like he wants to protest. Dallas knows that there’s at least a dozen things that could go horribly wrong, but her ability to stay positive and radiate confidence right now is vital.  

“Fine.” Eddie says reluctantly, pressing his lips together.

“Good.” Dallas nods. “You just… stay hidden. You know, the usual.”

They decide that Eddie shall hide in the boathouse until she returns. Even though the area around Lovers Lake seems to be desolated, they can’t be too careful. If anyone happens to see her sneak out of the house and if they decided to check it out, they wouldn’t be able to find Eddie.  

“I’ll be back soon.” Dallas says reassuringly as she puts her hand on the front door handle. “I promise.”

“Yep.”

“Stay hidden, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. In the boathouse. Got it.” Eddie replies and turns around, to walk towards the back door. But he lingers. “Be careful, Haze.”

Dallas nods. As Eddie, reluctantly, tears his eyes from her and turns around, Dallas holds her breath, opens the door and steps out on the porch. Carefully she closes it before she runs across the road, up on the bank on the other side and into the naked vegetation. Better to walk through the woods for a while and then get down on the open road again. As long as she’s as far away from the cabin as possible before anyone sees her.

It has become a little warmer in the air, but the early spring is still reminding itself by its brown colors surrounding Dallas where she strides on through the vegetation until she declares the distance from the cabin far enough. Then she heads out from the woods, toward the highway and climbs up on the road and starts to walk along it.

No cars in sight, but soon the familiar sound of rubber against tarmac is heard and a car brakes in next to her. With crossed fingers, desperately praying that it won’t be an icky creep or someone wanting to kidnap her, Dallas bends down and looks into the car. A woman in her thirties with an impressive perm rolls down the window and looks back out at her. Her eyelashes are gunked up with black mascara and she smiles.

“Do you need a ride?”

“I’m going to Hawkins.” Dallas explains, while digging her hands deeper into the satin coated pockets of her biker jacket.  

“So are we. Hop in!” She smiles. “It’s ok.” She adds reassuringly and bobs her curly hair towards the backseat. “It’s just the three of us.”

Dallas opens the door and looks into the car. In the backseat two kids are strapped up in their car seats. Two boys wearing matching corduroy jackets and Indiana Pacers caps. They observe her under silence as Dallas slides into the passenger seat and closes the door.

A mom with a perm that would make Whitney Huston green with envy and two kids can’t be a serial killer, she decides and buckles up. Live a little, right?  

“What’s your name?” The woman asks as she lets the car roll out on the road again.

“Dallas.” Dallas replies.

“Nice to meet you. This is Peter and Adam.” The woman nods her head backwards to the boys, still not uttering a noise. “I’m Pamela.”

In reply, not sure how much they should get acquainted with one another during this short ride into town, Dallas nods politely, pretending to listen. In reality she repeats the route she’s laid out for herself in her head; she’s gonna get back to Hawkins, go home, get some food and clean clothes and get her ass back to the cabin without anyone seeing her. Piece of cake, right?  

“Why were you out on the road?” “Huh, what?”

Pamela with the perm looks concerned as she glances in her direction, twisting her hands nervously at the steering wheel.

“You shouldn’t be out here on your own.” She replies and shifts her gaze back towards the road ahead. “Especially not now. It’s really dangerous.”

“Yeah. I know.” Dallas lies, without explaining herself further. Better not to say anything than entwine herself in a complicated lie.

“Where are you going?” Pamela turns and looks at her again. “I mean, where should I take you?”

“The Video Store.” Dallas says. “Downtown. I’ve left my bike there.”

“Okay.” Pamela nods, making her stiff curls bounce around her face. “It’s horrible, all that’s happening.”

It’s even worse than you think, Dallas thinks to herself and glances at Pamela who once again has turned her eyes back on the road.

They remain silent the rest of the drive into town, letting the radio drain out the motor sound and the lack of talking. The kids in the backseat soften up and when they cruise into Hawkins Dallas and the boy behind her are spoofing with each other, sticking their tongues out at each other in the side mirror. Who said soon to be 18-year olds has to act all grown up?

When Pamela stomps her foot on the brakes in front of the Video Store, Dallas thanks her for the ride and climbs out.

“Be careful now!” Pamela says before Dallas closes the door behind her.

If Pamela only knew. Dallas waves at her and the boys when they drive away, leaving her alone in the parking lot. She spins around and looks with gratitude at her bike, the great zoomer, still standing where she left it. Quickly and slightly bent over in a meek attempt to prevent anyone from seeing her, Dallas unlocks the chain-cable, wraps it around the pole, jumps onto her faithful ride and kicks away.

The chilly air quickly finds its way into her open jacket and Dallas increases her speed as she hurtles down the street. It’s surprisingly deserted. No wonder, when there’s an outbreak of satanic panic. When she has to stop at a crossroad to let a truck pass, a couple walks past on the sidewalk and Dallas can’t unhear their conversation.

“I heard the eulogy for the Cunningham girl was today.”

“Hope they’ll catch the monster who did it.”

Dallas’ heart drops and for a matter of seconds it feels like she’s going to faint. The harsh reality once again strikes ruthlessly. It’s the day of Chrissy’s eulogy and Dallas’ isn’t there. But she has more important things to do than attend. She’s trying to solve this murder case and clear Eddie Munson’s name for christ sake!

Dallas’ brain works impressively fast as she stands there with one foot on the ground and the other on the pedal. Quickly, she makes a U-turn and rides the opposite way. Drastic change of plans! There is something else she has to do before she heads home.

A few minutes later Dallas gets off her bike at Breakwater Drive. From where she stands at the quiet curb, looking up at the dark and deserted colonial house, it looks haunted. An eerie feeling crawls up the back of her neck. But the decision has been made. She won’t back out of it now.

Determined, Dallas leans her bike against the mailbox pole and walks up the paved walkway leading up to the front door, standing between its white tall columns. But she takes off to the right, scurries past the dense, neatly cut bushes and runs around to the back of the house.

Only a real dumbass would think of breaking in through the main entrance door.

With her gaze directed upwards as she walks along the breakfast room, a small protruding part of the kitchen with tall windows where the Cunningham’s eat their breakfast, Dallas searches for the drainpipe closest to Chrissy’s window pair. She has glided down and climbed up that specific pipe at least a dozen times by now, escaping Chrissy’s room or entering it without having to ring the doorbell and dribble her way past Mrs. Cunningham.

Dallas finds ‘her’ drainpipe and looks around to make sure no one sees her, before she starts to climb up the cold metal. The worn out rubber soles on her Chuck’s glides towards the brick surface.

“Lousy, shitty… shoes.” She grunts.

Thank god she’s got a good portion of strength in her upper body from throwing around Hawkins High’s team of champion baboons.

With sheer arm strength and grit, Dallas pulls herself up the pipe, while her feet 'walks' up the wall. When she reaches the roof, she takes a steady hold and lifts herself onto the sloping tiles. There she stops for a while and catches her breath, making sure that no neighbors are standing in their windows watching her. Nope. No housewives gaping inside their houses at the sight of the potential burglar on the roof, ready to throw themselves on the speed dial-button straight to 9-1-1.

Dallas turns and looks at Chrissy’s bedroom windows. Dark and closed, but she knows by experience that Chrissy never locks it, just so Dallas could come visit whenever she felt like. There’s no exception now. Carefully she pushes the window up. The sheer curtain inside flutters in the breeze as the soft, but chilly wind creeps into the dark room. Dallas swings her legs into the window opening and jumps down on the soft carpet inside. The scent that surrounds her is like an emotional gut punch. The soft, floral scent of Chrissy’s perfume, the warm smell of vanilla from the fabric softener, the variety of scented candles and the faint, but piquant hint of lemon from cleaning detergent. A jumble of fragrances that together has etched into Dallas' nose as something familiar, but now only causing her heartache.

“Pull yourself together, Haze.” Dallas whispers to herself.

Purposefully, she moves through the bedroom towards the dresser. Her eyes are strictly fixed on the closed jewelry box. Automatically, from the top drawer on the left, underneath hair brushes and a bunch of scrunchies, she takes the small key and unlocks the jewelry box. From it she takes the emerald green jewelry case, the one with the thin, golden frame on the lid.

Dallas makes a move, in an attempt to leave. But she hesitates, even though she damn well knows that she should get the hell out of there as soon as she can. But something is holding her back, preventing her feet from moving. If Dallas leaves now, she will never come back here, she knows that. Mrs. Cunningham would rather eat her own face than allow Dallas into their house. If only for a moment, she wants to stay here, to feel close to the only thing she has left of Chrissy. Although Chrissy felt like a prisoner in her own home, the room was her sanctuary. A bright, sunny, happy place where Dallas and Chrissy dreamt up future plans and adventures together in secrecy from Mrs. Cunningham.  

She looks down at the small jewelry case in her hands, strokes it gently over the slightly grooved lid. Slowly she walks over to the perfectly made bed and sits down on top of the covers. With her heart stuck in her throat and tears sweltering behind her eyes, she opens it. The small, crossed silver arrows glisten even though the room is dark. They decided together that they wanted the arrows. Friendship hearts simply felt too childish. They would put them on at graduation. Chrissy had already gotten a necklace from her parents at the start of the semester, ‘86’ in golden numbers as a symbol of her graduation year, but Chrissy had ensured Dallas that she wasn’t intending to wear it after they’d graduated.

“It’s just another year, right?” Chrissy said.

The dainty arrows symbolized a new beginning as well as their friendship. Now they’re all Dallas has left of what she and Chrissy had. Shattered dreams encapsulated into two small arrows made of silver.

Dallas caves in, falls down on the bed next to a stuffed teddy bear and lets all of it, the anger, the sadness, the anxiety gush out in a painful tidal wave of grief. Like a wounded animal she howls down into the pillows, inhales Chrissy’s scent as she gasps for air.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” She cries, pressing the emerald green jewelry case towards her chest. “I’m so sorry Chrissy…”

She remains there on the bed until she’s stopped shaking and she has gone out of tears for this time. That’s when she remembers what she has to do. Reluctantly she gets up and dries her tears with the back of her arm. Disoriented and still torn up, she opens the drawer to the bedside table and takes out Chrissy’s diary. She won’t read it, but she can’t let Chrissy’s mom get that piece of Chrissy too.

“I’ll fix this.” Dallas whispers out into the room before she leaves the Cunningham residence the way she came and runs to her bike.

She squeezes the diary into the back hem of her jeans and straddles the bike frame; there is no time to lose, so she starts pedaling for all she’s worth. Hopefully mom, dad and jack are at the eulogy and won’t be home bothering her.

Back at her own house Dallas throws the bicycle on the front lawn and runs around to the kitchen entrance. The house looks dark and quiet. Carefully, she unlocks the door and sneaks inside, quickly determining that no one is home. They must be at the eulogy. Without turning the lights on she runs up the stairs and into the bathroom. She takes a quick shower, changes clothes, hops into her trusty pair of docs instead -if she has to climb another drainpipe- and swallows down her birth control-pill underneath the tap in the bathroom.

In one swift motion, with the help of a lip pencil, Dallas draws a red line over the pill she missed and says a silent prayer that the pill-gods can indulge her carelessness and cut her some slack. To be careful, she puts the pill chart in the inner pocket of her jacket - just in case she’ll be gone longer than expected. From experience she hasn’t much faith in her impulses. What happens happens, and the birds and the bee’s have happened twice since last night!

In Jack’s room she grabs a hold of a pair of fresh boxers and tube socks from his packing - she’s sure Eddie would prefer to “borrow” her brother’s undies rather than her dad’s.

While combing her fingers through her damp hair, Dallas scurries downstairs. There’s no time for styling and blow drying in the business of solving crimes and hiding fugitives.

In the entrance hall she grabs her school backpack and turns it upside down on the hall mat. She throws Jack’s boxers into it and collects some spare change from the bowl on the hall dresser.

While making sure that she has some extra money in the outer compartment of the backpack, she hurries into the kitchen where she starts to gather what she can find in the pantry that can work as emergency-food; Snickers bars, a pack of Oreos and two cans of Progresso Vegetable soup.

As Dallas is in the process of emptying the fridge, placing an unopened packet of orange juice in her backpack, she freezes as the ominous rustle of keys resounds and the back door opens. S-h-i-t!

The next moment, mom’s standing in the kitchen. She jumps at the sight of Dallas, lets out a surprised exclamation and puts her hand towards her chest.  

“Oh my- DALLAS!”

“Mom!”

For a moment they just stare at each other in silence, accompanied by the low humming of the refrigerator. Dallas’ feet are frozen to the linoleum.  

Mom’s dressed in her black funeral dress, the one she wore when grandpa was put to rest in 12 feet of dirt, and her eyes are slightly swollen from crying. Even though the timing couldn’t be worse, Dallas’ can’t help but feel a teeny-tiny bit relieved that mom didn’t come home to see her BEFORE the shower; her tousled hair standing in every direction, unwashed and dressed in two or three-days old clothes and without a bra.  

The sound volume’s intensely upped as mom collects herself from the surprise of her daughter’s return home.  

“Where in god’s name have you been?!”

Dallas remains silent for a moment, as her head is desperately working to find an answer, or a lie, good enough. Telling mom the truth is not an option.

“I’m fine-” Dallas attempts, but to try and get in between mom’s scolding words is like attempting to pocket park a truck in a single car-pocket.

“You left without a word! Right after we got the news that Chrissy-” Mom’s voice breaks and she takes a deep breath, still pointing her finger towards the entrance. Tears start to build up in her already red eyes. “We thought- I don't know what we thought! You were gone! We called the police, Dallas!”

“Wha- no, mom-”

“Your dad and Jack have been out looking for you! Grandma’s been worried sick!” Mom inhales and continues. “You didn’t call us, you didn’t come home. You expect us to think that’s fine! Especially when some lunatic is killing teenagers in town?!”

“Look I-” Dallas mumbles. “I AM fine-”

“And- OH MY GOD IS THAT A HICKEY!” Mom takes a step forward and pulls the hair away from Dallas’ neck and gasps loudly. “Jesus, Joseph and Mary- WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN!?”

Son of a b- he did a fucking hickey, Dallas thinks to herself and curses Eddie Munson and his amazing mouth.

Quickly she pulls away and covers her throat with her hand, but the damage is already done. Mom’s eyes are close to popping out of her skull and it looks like she’s about to have a heart attack herself. She opens her mouth and closes it like a goldfish, but nothing comes out.

“Nothing.” Dallas lies.

It doesn’t work.

“IT’S A HICKEY, DALLAS!” Mom sputters, fuming with anger. “You just ran out the door without a word and disappeared for… two days!? And then you just… pops up out of nowhere with a HICKEY ON YOUR NECK?! With all that’s happened-” She pauses to take a deep breath, followed by a very disappointed, sad sigh that hits Dallas right in her heart. “Chrissy and that poor Benson boy-“ Mom shakes her head. “THERE’S A MURDERER ON THE LOOSE FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!”  

“So?” Dallas mutters abashed, clenching her fists.

She glances at the wall clock. She doesn’t have time for this. There’s so much that she’d like to shout in reply. Things that would explain it all to mom; why she ran, why she hasn’t called or come home. Things that mom wouldn’t understand or wouldn’t believe a word off.

“So?!” Mom shouts. “You are not running around on your own when there’s a maniac killing high school students! Certainly not for days without us knowing where you are and absolutely not coming home with hickeys! That’s what’s ‘SO’, Dallas!”

“What? I’m fine!” Dallas yells and holds out her arms. “Seriously, mom!”

“You expect us to just KNOW that? How? Mind reading?” Mom scoffs and furrows her eyebrows.  

“You don’t think I can take care of myself?” Dallas cuts off sharply. “I’m not five years old, mom.”  

Mom doesn't answer. For a good while they just stand there glaring at each other under restrained silence. One could hear a needle fall to the floor.

They rarely fight and certainly not like this.

“You’ve changed.”

Here we go. The “you’ve changed”-comment. How many times Dallas’ heard it by now is unclear. Ever since she was discharged from the hospital in Texas after her heart failure and decided that everything about her life would be different, mom’s “you’ve changed” has followed her around like a ghost. Mom couldn’t handle it. Still picking up the pieces from the trauma of losing her daughter and seeing her balance on a knife’s edge between life and death was apparently too much to deal with. Having her also -as soon as it was determined that she was going to recover fully- want to have all the fun she could possibly have was even more. “You’ve changed” followed like a red line through Dallas’ early teenage years and beyond.

“How, mom?” Dallas sighs. ”How exactly have I changed? You always say that but I’ve never understood in what way? You mean since the time I NEARLY died? Cause you know what - I didn’t! I’m alive. Is it really that difficult to get? That I want to experience shit before the next time I die?”

“Dallas-”

“No, mom!” Dallas shouts, feeling an anger rise inside of her that’s been suppressed for a little too long. Like a kettle boiling over. It may be unfair and quite frankly even mean, but she doesn’t have time for this; and certainly not for putting together a polite response. “This time you do NOT get to decide what I am going to do! Chrissy’s dead! And the police are on the wrong lead.”

“Dallas-” Mom takes a step forwards and grabs a hold of Dallas’ hand. Her voice is more pleading now. “Please, talk to me! What is going on with you?!”

“Nothing!” Dallas calls. “Mom, you don’t understand. I’m gonna solve this shitshow. I owe Chrissy that.” Dallas continues and stomps her foot into the floor in pure frustration. “I can’t say more. You gotta trust me!”  

Mom’s grip tightens, but her facial expression softens and turns sad. How hard it is, Dallas can’t tell what’s going on. Mom would never believe her and Eddie would be in even greater danger than he already is. She can’t trust mom, not this time.

If she knew what Dallas was involved in she would chain Dallas to the radiator and watch her like a hawk; years and years of overprotection and fear of losing her only daughter cannot be dispelled just like that. But Dallas gotta try.  

“Mom I love you but this is something I have to do. Please trust me.”

Mom could refuse. She could refuse to let go of Dallas’ hand by holding on to it even harder. But for some reason she doesn’t. It’s not without force that Dallas has to release herself from mom’s grip, but she gets out of it and backs away, so mom doesn’t clasps her arms around hers in an impossible lock grip.

“Dallas…” Mom looks desperate, angry and sad. “Dallas?”

Silent tears have started to stream down her cheeks and she bites into her lower lip hard. Will she explode? Or collapse on the floor?

“I have to go. You will understand, I promise. Just not… now.” Dallas says before she turns and runs out of the kitchen, out of the house and towards her bike.

Behind her she hears mom call for her. The heart aches in Dallas’ chest underneath the tee and biker jacket and her throat stings from suppressed crying. Mom will understand. When all this is over and Eddie’s name has been cleared, and Chrissy’s death has been solved, she WILL understand!

Without looking back Dallas starts to pedal. Irated at herself for letting guilt clasp around her heart like a weakling, she begins to cry again. The bike whizzes past parked cars, road crossings and trees rustling like tambourines in the wind. Most of all, Dallas thinks about Jack. Fuck, she should’ve at least tried to contact him. He could’ve talked to mom and dad, or at least say that she was alright. He would understand, she is convinced of that.

Outside Bradley’s Big Buy she stumbles off the bike, leans it against the shop window and hurries inside. On autopilot, she rushes around the aisles and picks up bread, peanut butter and a six-pack. As she’s about to turn around, she bumps into someone.

“Oh, sorry I-” The words get stuck on the way out of her mouth as she sees who she has run into.

Wayne Munson.

“No worries.”

They look at each other. His face is furrowed and his hair is thinning. At first glance he looks stern and sullen, but when she dares to meet his gaze, his eyes look sad. Dallas swallows hard. Here he is, without knowing what happened to his nephew that he clearly has a strong bond to, the closest thing Eddie has to a parent. Should she say something?

“Yeah.” She manages to push forward a faint smile. “I- I’m sorry about…” The words get stuck in her mouth. “I gotta go.”

Without looking back at Mr. Munson, Dallas hurries in the direction of the cash register. She feels like she’s going to throw up. She couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Just as with mom, the chances of her tattling would endanger Eddie even more.

With a stabbing pain of anxiety on the right side of her chest, Dallas drops the goods on the counter. The cashier, a twenty-something guy with a face stained with acne-scars and eyes as red as the irritated pimple that it looks like he’s spent a good few minutes trying to pop, watches her lazily. Slowly he starts to scan as Dallas looks around, hoping she won’t run into someone else she knows, or the cops.

“That’s 7,52.”

Without meeting his baked gaze, afraid to get second-handedly high by his red eyes, Dallas hollers up some dollar bills and puts them down on the checkout counter.

“Keep the change.” She says.

“You wanna go to a party?”

“Eh, no.” Dallas looks up and frowns.

“Cool.” He nods and starts to collect the bills. “That’s… awesome.”

“You high or something?” Dallas throws the bread down her backpack.

Could this day get any worse?  

The stoner-cashier shrugs.

“Maybe.” He admits. “You wanna make out behind the trash bins then? I’d give you the fiver back if you say yes.”

Dallas grimaces.

“Ew!”

“Ey, that’s not nice.” He replies. ”I have a way with girls.”


“Hm.”

Sure, and pigs can fly? Dallas sends off a smile that feels a lot more like a grimace. She suspects his way with women is to make them run screaming in the opposite direction. Quickly she collects the six-pack and hurries out of the store before she runs into Wayne Munson again or the cashier starts to make more icky suggestions.

On her way out of town, she makes one last pitstop.

The street outside the funeral home it’s calm and quiet when Dallas hits the brakes and puts her feet down on the curb on the other side of the road. The sun is on its way down. When she’ll be back at Lovers Lake it will be dark. From her spot underneath a broken street light, she can see into the wide open double doors.

There’s some stragglers left inside, all dressed in black with bowed heads and stern expressions on their faces. A photo of Chrissy is standing straight ahead in the corridor at the front. Chrissy is smiling back at her in her cheerleader uniform from the enlarged portrait, placed on a black easel at the front of the podium. Dallas would’ve preferred if they’d picked a different picture. Chrissy was so much more than the head cheerleader of a mediocre high school basketball team; more than the green and orange; more than ‘go team’ and crazy-ass deadly jumps. She was the star of the show without a doubt, but she was also the kindest, funniest and most compassionate friend one could have, with the entire world at her feet. The cheerleading part was just a small portion, a side note in Chrissy’s life, if only it hadn’t ended so quickly.  

It’s for you Chris, Dallas thinks and squeezes the handles on the bike, while swallowing hard and pushing another gush of tears back into her tear ducts. She’ll have to save them for later.

“I will make this right for you Chris.” Dallas whispers.

With one last look into the funeral home and the portrait, Dallas puts her foot on the pedal and kicks off from the side of the curb, heading back towards Lovers Lake.

Eddies POV:

*Clonk*

The velvety smooth surface of the chestnut hits the rusty soup can and drops to the bottom of it with a ringing sound. Two points! He’s figured out a very simple point system; One point if it hits the rim of the can, two points if it’s a solid, clean hit and minus one point if he misses. In his hand he’s got four more chestnuts. Soon he’ll have to crawl around the floorboards to collect them again.

As soon as Dallas went out the front door and ran over the road, Eddie turned and snuck out the back door and into the boathouse. As he closed the door behind him of the drafty building the feeling of déjà vu hit from his first night out there.

He’d abandoned his van at a desolated, overgrown parking lot to a walking trail about 1,5 miles away from the cabin. He’d parked there lots of times before, after leaving Rick’s place to sleep the haze off before going back home to Wayne. For a while he sat there, just hyperventilating and trying to get a grip around the situation. Of course at that point that was completely impossible, so instead he broke down in tears against the steering wheel. As soon as he’d calmed down somewhat he climbed out of the van, locked it with trembling fingers and started to walk in the direction of Rick’s place. The decision to head to Rick’s house happened instinctively; he knew he’d be alone out there since Rick had screwed up and got himself locked up again.

*Clonk*

Two more points. Eddie strokes the second chestnut inside his hand. The soft surface has turned warm towards his palm.  

Wading through the tangled, overgrown grass in the roadside ditch was an effort in itself, but the fight or flight-reaction kept him going. As he finally arrived, the area around Lovers Lake and the cabin was completely dark and desolate. As always he didn’t have to find some hidden key underneath a garden rock or the door mat; Rick was of the light-hearted opinion that locked doors meant locking out exciting opportunities. Probably that wasn’t what he thought when the police, without knocking, went in and found him on the couch with a considerable amount of weed a few weeks ago.

The house was left just as when he left it; as messy as always. To calm his nerves somewhat, Eddie found Rick’s stash of beer, some food that he could eat raw and snuck out to the boat house.

*Clonk*

A miss. It was also his last chestnut. Now he’s got to crawl around and find them again.

“Son of a…” Eddie sighs and drops back towards the wall.

Resigned, he looks at the radio. Still no word from Henderson or the others. Dallas’ been gone for a few hours, a few more than he’d hoped. His nerves are going wild with anticipation and worry and his stomach growls loudly with hunger.

What if something’s happened to them? What if Vecna’s got Max? What if Wheeler and Buckley’s mission to Penhurst fails? What if Jason finds Dallas, or if her parents put her in house arrest so that she won’t fall victim to Eddie “the freak” Munson?

The excruciating feeling of hopelessness returns, an emotion he hasn’t felt in a few days. It disappeared as Dallas came into the picture and decided to stay with him. Having her here with him made him feel less alone, made him feel better even though the situation hasn’t improved the slightest - on the contrary. Now when she’s gone and he’s alone again with his thoughts and worries, everything gets a dark, dull filter.    

“Dustin?” He pleads into the radio, hoping that someone will answer.

All he needs is a minute or two where someone talks back to him, updates him or tells him that they’re doing their best solving this shit show. But no one replies. Just white noise. With a deep sigh he drops his head towards the wall behind him.

“Think positive, goddammit.”

With force, clenching all of his facial muscles, Eddie closes his eyes, searches his mind for positive things to think about. It will be alright. When all this is over it’s gonna be like before, mostly. Hopefully with one, but very large, improvement. Dallas Daisy Haze.

As the heat begins to sprout in his chest, a dark cloud of worry sweeps over his mind as the “what if’s” appears. What if this is it for them? As in approximately 48 hours of total bliss before it runs out into nothing. Letting it all go isn’t an option now; he’s in too deep. He’s gotta tell Dallas how he feels, if that hasn’t already been made clear.

On the other hand she did ask him to go with her to the Van Halen concert and Maiden, but what if that won’t happen either?

“You gotta tell her, Munson.” He spurs himself. “You’re a fool if you don’t. A fool-” He sighs, softly bangs his head against the wall. “-and a coward.”

If anything, he’s gotta tell her before he’s locked up for the rest of his life. That’s what’s gonna happen if Steve, Robin, Max, Dustin and Lucas won’t make any progress with their crazy mission to the asylum.

Again Eddie has to force the fearful thoughts of a small, cold cell and only seeing Wayne though a thick pane away, to prevent himself from losing it completely. He repeats positive things in his life inside his head; game night’s with Hellfire Club, band practice in Gareth’s garage, the gigs at the Hideout, graduating high school, making Wayne damn proud, Dallas, his new acquaintance with Robin, Max, Nancy- he might even consider hanging out with pretty rich-boy Steve Harrington… IF it’s true he’s evolved into less of a douche.

There’s lots of good things to look forward to, things that are worth fighting for. He’s just gotta hold himself together until then.

Eddie flinches and is ripped out of his mindful state when he hears a vehicle approaching. Quickly he ducks under the window, behind the oars leaned up against the wall. Carefully he peeks out of the dirty window. Dallas can't be back yet. Could it be Harrington and the others?

What he sees is a black Cherokee Pioneer parked at the other side of the road from the cabin. Out of the car steps Jason and two of his teammates from the basketball team, wearing black suits, polished shoes and black ties. It strongly resembles a mafia scene, especially the baseball bats in their hands makes Eddie swallow hard with fear.

Why are they here? How the hell did they find out about this place? Someone must’ve blown the gaff about Rick being Eddie’s supplier. It probably wasn’t difficult to figure out. Holding his breath, Eddie watches as the group walks towards the brown house next to the boat house, passing the overgrown, dead flower beds and up to the small, covered porch.

“Shit. Shit…” Eddie mutters.

Crouching, he hurries to the other window, which faces the west side and the rear of the house. He has a bad feeling they won’t leave until they’ve turned the house upside down in search of him or leads on his whereabouts. Feverishly Eddie grabs the radio. They have to come and get him, now!

”Hey, Dustin!” He hisses into the walkie. ”You there?”

No answer. Of course.

”It’s Eddie. You remember me?” Eddie tries into the silent radio, while moving out of sight from the windows. “Hello?”

Still no answer. He feels how panic induced sweat starts to run down his back.

”Hey, if anyone’s there, I really think I might be in a bit of trouble here. Okay?”

Still no answer.

”Wheeler?”

He smacks the radio with the palm of his hand.  

”Anybody?!” Eddie implores.

Nobody answers. Eddie rests his forehead towards the speaker, then explodes.

“Son of a bitch!”

In a fit of rage he throws the radio into a pile of sacks and junk. Shaking with frustration he clasps his hands behind his head and paces the boathouse, desperately trying to figure out what to do. But no eureka-moment appears.

With growing concern, he grabs the radio and sneaks up to the window. He can see them move around the house, searching every room and turning on lights. Outside the sun is going down. He doesn’t know how long he sits there, but the next time he looks at his wrist watch, the clock has struck nine and Jason and the others haven’t left. The only source of light beside the lights from Rick’s cabin is the milky white moon, mirroring into the lake and spreading a cool, eerie light over the area. Still he hasn’t caught a sight of Dallas, luckily, and he hasn’t heard a word from the others.

”Dustin?” Eddie repeats for probably the hundredth time. ”Please! Are you there?”

What is he going to do? Should he leave the boathouse, run towards the abandoned car and pray to higher powers that they forgot to take the keys out? Should he flee into the forest? He cannot stay here.

His flickering, desperate gaze lands on the tarp-covered boat. It’s a crazy idea, but what else can he do? He gives the device in his hand once last chance to change his mind, but no sound comes out of it.

“Nevermind.”

With the radio in his hand he hurries over to the boat and rips the tarp from it. Will it hold? He’s never seen Rick use it for anything else than hiding his stash products when he was struck with weed-induced paranoia.

Eddie takes a quick look, searches for holes or signs that indicate that the boat won’t sink as soon as it touches water. But it looks okay. Carefully, he hoists the boat down by its ropes into the water. He grabs one of the ores, jumps down into the boat and releases it from the ropes. Then he puts the ore into the water and starts to paddle from side to side like a canoe.

Once when he was thirteen Wayne took him out canoeing at the Eno river during a weekend camping trip. Besides grilling marshmallows over open fire and sleeping in a tent, reading comics inside his sleeping bag, canoeing was the third best part of the trip. But that was different; that was a real canoe, not a small boat.

Even though he’s stronger now than when he was twelve, it’s fucking hard to make the darn boat move forward. But soon he gets a hang of it. The tricky part is to do it quietly. While doing his best on that part, Eddie repeats his makeshift plan in his mind; he’ll have to paddle ashore on the other side, then run like hell. Where doesn’t mind, as long as he puts as many miles between himself and Jason’s gang as possible. He’ll get in touch with the others sooner or later, hopefully, and Dallas will understand.

He stops to paddle for a brief moment; what about Dallas. He’s about to paddle away from the place where she thinks he is still at, where she left him a couple of hours ago. Dallas will walk right into the hands of Jason and his mates, who won’t look between the fingers of her being out there on her own. Despite her stone cold manner, Eddie has no idea how she handles a stressful and potentially dangerous situation.  

”Hey, Freak!”

Eddie’s heart drops in his chest and he turns around. Jason and Patrick are standing at the shore, looking out at him. Even though it’s dark, Eddie can see Jason’s eyes burn with wrath; the fury in his eyes is noticeable even though the distance between them is tangible.

”Where do you think you’re going?!” Jason shouts.

Shit!

Eddie throws himself toward the engine. Fuck it! It doesn’t matter if anyone hears him now, he has to flee for his life. With shaky fingers, he grabs hold of the line connected to the start engine and pulls. Nothing. No rumbling engine noise.

”Come on!” Eddie shouts at the engine that just sputters in reply. ”Just… come on…” Eddie pleads towards the dead object that refuses to make the boat move forward. ”…you piece of shit!”

He pulls again, only causing it to splutter once more. This can’t be happening. Not now.  

”Come on!” Eddie pats on the engine as if it was a dog. “Gotta help me out here!”

A loud, wet splatter makes him look up from the striking engine. Jason and Patrick are wading out into the water. Jason’s running and the water splashes around him as he dives into the darkness and starts to crawl.

”Come on, you piece of shit!” Eddie shouts at the engine.

The engine revs and coughs weakly as Jason starts to come closer, but it doesn’t work. It’s dead.  

”Goddamnit!” Eddie shouts and drops the line. ”Nope? Okay! All right then, okay!”

That’s it! He returns to the ore and starts to paddle again, but while he shouted at the motor to co-operate, Jason and Patrick have caught up with him. How fast he ever paddles, they will get to him. Eddie stops and turns around.

“Hey, stay back, man!” He shouts, waving the ore around him. “I said stay away!”

Jason’s just a few swim strokes from the engine, but Patrick’s 10 feet behind him, looking around the water without moving.

“Come on!” Jason shouts at him. “We almost got him!”

Patrick doesn’t answer. It’s as if he doesn’t hear Jason. Eddie stops waving the ore around. What’s wrong?  

“Hey, Patrick!” Jason shouts, now in a concerned tone. “Patrick?”

With a jerk, Patrick disappears below the surface with such speed that he has no time to react.

“Patrick!”

What the heck was that? With sweat dripping down his forehead and a tight grip around the ore, Eddie looks around the dark lake with a pulse the same speed as a fighter jet. Patrick’s nowhere to be seen. Just dark, frightening water.

“Hey, Patrick!” Jason shouts again, kicking around the water.

Eddie should seize the moment and get a head start, paddling for all he’s worth away from there. But he can’t move. He’s frozen in fear. Something’s wrong, he can feel it.

“Patrick!? Patrick!” Jason shouts.

It strikes him like lightning. It can’t be anything else than it. Not again, Eddie just has time to think, before something shoots out of the water. Patrick. Eddie flinches violently and lets out a startled gasp, loses his balance and falls helplessly out of the boat and breaks the water's surface. Feverishly and terrified, he kicks around and feels the burning pain as water finds its way down into his lungs. Coughing and gasping for air, he comes over the surface of the water and spits at least a gallon of water out.

The first thing he sees is Patrick; five or six meters above the water, Patrick becomes suspended in the air, still and flaccid like a marionette puppet on invisible strings. It's like everything is playing on repeat inside Eddie’s head. Chrissy, slowly levitating towards the ceiling in the trailer, dead in the eyes, unreachable in a trance.

He can only watch as what happened to Chrissy happens to Patrick. The snapping sound of joints and the cracking of bones. The legs pointing in unnatural positions, as are the arms. He wants to scream and get the hell out of there as fast as he can, but his body can’t move, besides kicking around the water to prevent himself from sinking to the bottom of the lake.

And just as with Chrissy in the trailer, the invisible cords holding the now broken body up in the air are cut and Patrick’s body falls towards the water. The impact as the limp, broken body hits the surface of the dark water is painful. That’s when the panic releases its grip around Eddie. He won’t stay here a second more. With a racing heart beat and tears stuck in his throat, he swims back towards the boat. Desperately he climbs up into it, weighed down by the weight of his wet clothes. He tumbles into the boat and gropes blindly for the oar. Instead he gets a hold of the line to the engine and pulls.

“Holy shit-” He pants in falsetto as the engine coughs and starts to sputter.

The boat starts to move forward and he clings to the handle with one thought in mind - to get the hell out of there. With one last look back he gets a glimpse of Jason, disappearing underneath the water surface, probably to retrieve Patrick.

He doesn’t get very far before the engine starts to cough. Shortly thereafter it dies again and Eddie has to start paddling again. With his sights set on a small sandbar, he paddles so that his arms burn. The boat crashes through the sandy bottom a short distance from land. Eddie jumps out into the cold water and drags the boat up onto the beach. As he looks out over the lake, towards the cabin he sees someone crawl up on shore, Jason, dragging something behind. He trips and falls, pulling Patrick’s body up the sloping landside.  

A lump grows in Eddie’s throat. His legs collapse underneath him and with trembling hands he pulls out the radio from the inner pocket of his jacket.

“For fuck-!” He swears as he sees the drenched radio. Desperately he starts to press all the buttons. “Hello!? Dustin, hello!?”

No use, it’s completely dead.

“Shit!” Eddie sputters, then he feels the rage bubble up inside. “Shit, shit, shit, SHIT!”

With all the force he’s able to produce after having to paddle over the lake, he throws the radio in a wide arc into the darkness.

He’s knee high in trouble now. From across the lake Eddie can hear faint, roaring cries from Jason as he -all in vain- tries to awake Patrick. You fool, Eddie thinks.

He’s gotta get out of here. Soon the area will be crowded with cops and people. On shaky legs he gets up from the ground and starts to run into the forest, away from the milky white moonlight.

The soaked clothes weigh him down and it clunks as soon as he sets his foot towards the uneven ground, scattered with roots, twigs and stones. All he can think about is getting as far away from the lake as possible. So far away from whatever it is that seems to be haunting him. He’s pumped up, completely exhausted, but he refuses to stop. With his hand pressed hard against the painful hold in his side, Eddie trudges on through the snarling, dark forest. Every sound makes him wince in fear.

Ever since he escaped the trailer, he has had a million different images of the unknown monster, Vecna. One more frightening than the other. Is Vecna in their world? Is he prowling around in the dark in the woods? Is he invisible? Is it even a male?

Eddie brakes hastily as he glimpses a dim light further ahead. It must be the moon. He begins to approach the edge of the forest. The closer he gets to the light, he sees that it reflects against tarmac. Must be the road to Hawkins from Lovers Lake. If he crosses it and continues through the forest on the other side, he might be able to find the railway and follow that. Where to is of less importance. He speeds up and charges even more when he gets out of the vegetation and puts his left foot on the road.

A swooshing sound and a jingling ringing tone makes Eddie press the heels of his sneakers into the tarmac in the middle of the road and turn his head to the left. In the milliseconds he’s got to react he can only think and whisper one thing.

“Shit.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x oc #Eddie munson x female oc #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fandom #eddie the hero #eddie x oc #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfiction

[ballet-symphonie]

Comments under the VBA post... Yes, Tsiskaridze has favorites. BUT when it comes to casting, he is very meticulous! From I know, they make a few "talented" students audition for a role in front of the rector himself and some pedagogues... then they analyze and choose after. They will get 2 for leading parts, and they will train rigorous for months. Nikolai is not gonna risk casting someone who isnt up for the role, it will ruin him and the school, esp the audience nitpick the performance.

Every teacher has favorites and the process you describe is the standard audition procedure in ballet schools, nothing new here. The issue lies with who's being included and excluded in the 'talent' pool for that initial audition and whose careers are being prioritized at the expense of others. Exposure is so important in ballet. You can walk into an audition and if the director recognizes you from a prior performance, you've already got a huge advantage. For crying out loud, people get hired on the spot after grad exams and performances. In my opinion, you need to prioritize the graduates at the graduation performances because they're the ones who are in immediate need of exposure.

Valiullina and Koshkareva were dancing big, soloist roles as in grad performances when they were 5th-year students. 5th-years!! With two more years of study to go!! Those opportunities should have gone to girls who weren't the stars of their class but could have used those roles to attract directors from smaller, regional companies. VBA performs a ton, they have Nutcracker, Class concerts, performances at the Hermitage and even touring performances in some years. There are lots of other stages for undergraduates to shine, and these two can absolutely still go on to be huge stars. Favoring younger girls in the castings of Nutcracker is one thing, the purpose of those shows is to entertain a more general audience. However, the sole purpose of the graduation performances is to show off the graduating class and get them jobs.

I believe that setting up the current class of graduates for success is more important than putting on a front about the state of the school. So what, this class isn't as strong as Khoreva's? The graduates are still kids finishing school and need jobs! I'm not saying take everyone into MT but they need to work at some theatre somewhere or what else are they going to do? The education at VBA isn't exactly super broad to conveniently allow them many backup options. While it's unreasonable for VBA to be graduating girls like Vishneva every single year, they should be producing competent dancers with the strength to get through a professional level pas de deux yearly. If they can't...then the school's reputation and the quality of its teaching should deservedly be questioned.

Also, let's keep in mind that VBA has complete creative control over the repertoire they give their students. What pieces they put on the grad program should be selected intelligently to show the graduates in the best possible light. If girls are collectively weak jumpers, don't give them an allegro-heavy piece like Bournonville's Conservatoire. VBA has made smart choices in the past, like giving Laurencia to Shakirova and staging Paquita in years where there are lots of strong girls to dance all the variations (2018, 2014).

I am a bit...hesitant about the choice made to dance Raymonda's grand pas de deux, especially with VBA's new hobby of bringing young MT boys back to dance over their current students. That calls for 9 boys (1 principal, 8 corps) who do some pretty serious partner work in the adage section. If they don't have a guy who can get through a major 10 min adage or 8 guys who can do reverse shoulder sits, I would hope that they wouldn't pick that ballet. It's possible that the quiet decline of VBA's boys is slowly coming to the forefront, but that's a whole separate issue.

And let's be honest, the audience will nitpick regardless and Tsiskaridze has survived FAR bigger scandals than a mediocre graduating class. VBA's reputation has been established through countless and countless iterations of talent. That's not all going to suddenly disappear because of one off year.

#vaganova ballet academy #vaganova #ballet dancer #ballet ask

[x-ceirios-x]

eleanor

template based on this post

Basics

Name: Eleanor Rige

Places Lived: name it, she’s been for a few months

Current Residence: Brooklyn, New York

Birthday: December 3

Age: older than she wants to admit

Species: warlock

Appearance

Hair: ginger

Eyes: purple, glamored blue

Height: 6’0

Clothing Style: Eleanor tends to wear very flowy, pretty outfits, paired with floral accessories and dainty jewelry. She’s usually seen in long dresses and heels, minimal but still a ‘natural look’ style of makeup, and a vast array of bracelets and rings which are her favorite to wear. 

Face Claim: Alina Kovelenko

Family

Mother: an old, old demon she won’t talk about

Father: dead for a long time

Sibling(s): Desmin Rige

Closest Friends: Magnus Bane

Romantic Interest: none

Past Relationship(s): many over the years

Personality

To others, Eleanor usually comes off as ditsy and fun-loving, a bit of an airhead but she has a good heart. Some of this is true—while she enjoys a good time, she’s also meticulous and incredibly smart, just like her brother. Where he fails in social settings, however, she succeeds. She’s great at controlling conversation and planting ideas in people’s heads, convincing them it was their idea and leading them to go along with whatever it is she wants. In short, she’s a master manipulator but rarely uses her communication powers for poor reasons. She’ll swindle a mundane out of a little extra money, sure, but it rarely goes further than that. 

When with people she knows well, though, she is incredibly empathetic and mother-hen-ish. She’s constantly trying to make sure Desmin is taking care of himself, sometimes so much so it hurts herself. She is very in tune with people, partly due to her magic making her borderline empathic. 

Hobbies: dancing (most kinds of dancing, but ballet is her favorite), really enjoys bartending/hosting parties for friends 

Fear(s): losing Desmin 

Downworlder Information

Species: Warlock

Magic Color: purple

Specialization: offensive magic, banishment spells and things of that nature

Warlock mark: solid purple eyes

Special Abilities: immortality, empathic telepathy (where she can read people’s feelings but not their express thoughts), other general warlock abilities

Favorites

Food: Sole meunière

Drink: cosmos all the way

Color: pink or yellow

Season: spring

Scent: cinnamon

Music: old jazz

Time of day: sunrise

Movie: The Wizard of Oz

Background

The twins have been alive for a long, long time. The circumstances of their births were incredibly rare, making them extremely powerful—warlock twins are rare in the first place, but their demonic parent being their mother even moreso. They, as far as they know, are the only people still alive that know her true name or even of her existence. They spent a great deal of time, several centuries ago, wiping her and their names from any documents, legends, anything physical they could get their hands on and charming anyone who’d dealt with her to forget she existed after finally locking her away in her circle of hell. Despite their age, they both refuse to enter the Spiral Labyrinth in fear of her somehow breaking out and coming back to terrorize their world or other possible ones out there. 

Around the time they were trying to hunt down their mother, they met a little boy in the Dutch East Indies (modern day Indonesia), who Desmin, despite their current venture, insisted they had to help. Eleanor conceded after learning he was ten and living on his own for the past few days, due to the death of his father (who they eventually found out was his stepfather). After learning of his heritage, they taught him the basics of magic and helped him control the powers that his family had scorned him for. Due to the issues from their mother, they couldn’t keep him. Desmin had a friend in the Clave that suggested the boy stay with the Silent Brothers to learn magic further and keep him from getting hurt in the crossfire. However, both made a point to stay involved in his life and randomly pop in to say hi. They saw him again a few decades later and found out he was studying under Ragnor Fell, who they were acquainted with, and the boy had named himself Magnus Bane. 

Relations with the Shadowhunters had been tense since the twins first met Johnathan Shadowhunter. It was years before they met Magnus, but she never liked any of the Nephilim she met. She could respect them as long as they stayed out of her way. When they organized and created the Clave, they started files on ‘Downworlders’ they deemed dangerous, which she took great pleasure in burning when she finally got her hands on it after years of searching. To her, the Clave didn’t need to know she or Desmin existed, simply because they would dig too far and reexpose the world to legends that should stay dead. Eleanor in particular swore off befriending or dating any of them after a mishap in Edwardian London with a Lightwood child that left a terrible taste in her mouth for the Nephilim thereafter. 

For several years after, she focused her efforts on Desmin and attempted to find him a relationship that lasted more than a night, but to no avail. In the early forties, she thought he found a mundane that would finally pull him from his denial, but he was a soldier who didn’t end up coming home. 

Looking for a fresh start, the two moved to Paris after the war, where Eleanor fell in love with the people, the language, the fashion—she simply thrived in the city, loving all the new, modern ideas the world was coming to. While there, she fell in love with a werewolf, Casimir Bouchard, who lit up her life better than any relationship she’d had in the last several centuries. The two were completely and utterly in love. It was the first time in their entire lives that she and Desmin lived separately, Casimir having asked her to move in with him. The twins still saw each other every day and made a point to do things together, though she enjoyed spending time with her boyfriend. Part of her had never realized how much she longed for a normal life, not one where she was moving every few years and was constantly watching over her shoulder. 

The happiness couldn’t last forever, though. Casimir changed, the longer they were together—he was no longer romantic and caring, but angry and resentful of her. Arguments turned to fights, and fights turned to Eleanor getting hurt. She left him after Desmin found out. 

After both going through terrible heartbreaks, they both decided against real relationships for a while. They traveled, did some jobs they both enjoyed—Eleanor was on West End for a while (under a glamor and fake name), she danced professionally for a bit, worked in a flower shop when that got to be too taxing—and settled down. They continued to move every ten or so years, around the time people started to question what skincare she used that kept her looking so young. Desmin continued with his usual repressed charade that included him sleeping with fey on a semi-regular basis and pretending he wasn’t only interested in men, and life went on as normal. They had few real friends other than Magnus, though they kept good relations with other Downworld allies, like the Seelie Queen, and heads of vampire clans and werewolf packs in the area. 

Around September 2007, they happened to be in New York. After hearing rumors—good and bad—about Valentine, they decided to see Magnus again, wanting to make sure he knew they were around in case he needed something. The three reignited their friendship and picked up where they left off, happy to spend their evenings drinking at home and catching up from the last fifty or so years.

#xx.eleanor #shadowhunters #the mortal instruments #shadowhunters oc #shadowhunters ocs #the mortal instruments oc #the mortal instruments ocs #magnus bane #alec lightwood #clary fray #simon lewis #isabelle lightwood #clary fairchild #jace herondale #jace lightwood #jace wayland

[anonnie-in-wonderland]

Home Calls The Heart

Summary: Twenty-year old L/N Y/N realizes she might be, okay, is a little bit of a social pariah. But there’s not much she can really do about it. Until a dreary winter day, when a determined, persistent dog hybrid named Taehyung shows up and declares that he’s interested in adopting her for himself and the rest of his lonely pack.

chapter: one

Word Count: 7.2k+

rating: T (mentions of death, depression/mental illness, past abuse and neglect, and reader’s height is briefly alluded to)

genre: romance | hurt/comfort| magic AU

tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly| FM!reader

Emperor Penguin!Seokjin, Golden Retriever!Taehyung, Coyote!Hoseok, Mountain Lion!Yoongi, Wolfdog!Namjoon, Kingfisher!Jimin, Holland Lop!Jungkook

Ch.2

Author’s Note: New at this so go easy on me please. 🥺 Probably one of the few times I will ever use an unnamed Y/N. I’m not very used to writing in this format, but I am too lazy to think up a good name as I intended for this to be a one-shot. Though I am awful at one-shots …so this may end up in 2-3 parts. This came from a prompt I wish I could credit but can’t find now, about hybrid Bangtan “adopting” a human that Taehyung brings home. This was originally meant to be a funny and strictly fluffy take on the prompt, but evolved into this somewhat angsty mess. Apologies. Still fluffy though, I promise.

It had been one week. One week without Choi Han-Gyeol, and the boys were still very much in mourning. It hurt when so much of their lives had been intertwined with the man’s, and so much of him still lingered everywhere around the farm. They could no longer hear the sharp cackles over his own jokes, but the ugly painting of a morose clown he had bought on a whim from the bizarre still hung in the living room. Not even three weeks ago he had affixed it to the wall, near the mantel decorated in photos of the boys through the years. Jimin took one look at the clown’s sunken cheeks, droopy eyes and quivering lips, declared it a monstrosity, and then demanded it come down.

But Han-Gyeol or Gramps as he preferred they called him, made a remark about how he would leave it up, because with the portrait hanging there, he wouldn’t have to go down the hall to look in the mirror. Joking at his own expense was one of his specialities. Jin had picked up his sense of corny humor from years of close exposure, and the boys groaned over each of the duo’s lame puns or terrible one-liners.

Now it was different, though. Jin hadn’t even attempted a joke since the day before they lost their guardian—Gramps never cared for being referred to as their owner or master, a habit easier to break for some of them than others. The funeral was a pretty swift process, thanks to the meticulous instructions the old man had left behind. Apparently he had been planning for the inevitability for a while, likely since his health started to take a serious decline.

He brushed them off when they cast him worried gazes, practically growling like a hybrid himself when they hovered too much or tried to discreetly take on more of his house chores. He hated being coddled and said he would rather keep his dignity and some semblance of independence.

Han-Gyeol had no children, just some scattered great-nephews and a great-niece. None of them contested the will, leaving everything to his hybrids. Then again, the old guy was smart. On paper, it looked like all he’d really had left at the end was a farm in the middle of nowhere, one his family had never visited.

In reality, the eccentric geezer had amassed quite the fortune in late adulthood thanks to his peanut shelling company. He sold to candy factories around the world and made a killing from that alone, never mind all the well-made investments over the last decade. The farm, he told them, was a purchase made from nostalgia, wanting to reconnect to his country bumpkin roots. It later became a safe haven to every hybrid he found or rescued and let stay with him.

Jungkook, the one who had found him collapsed in the field—a heart attack, they learned later—was holed up in Gramps’ bedroom, surrounded by his things and the fragrance clinging heavily to the air that the boys jokingly called his “foxy grandpa” perfume, because he wore it when he wanted to go out on the town and leave an impression.

Everywhere he looked, everyone was so sad. So…defeated. Taehyung was no exception. He was just as devastated by the heartbreak of losing the only human most of them had ever really been able to trust.

Gramps swept into his life on a muggy summer day when he was just a pup. At the time, he was about to be carted off to who knows where by Hybrid Control officers. The family who had purchased him to be a playmate to their young daughter—who’d quickly gotten bored with him in favor of a colossal dollhouse—could no longer keep him.

They were losing their house and a lot of possessions, including the six-year old puppy hybrid who didn’t understand why his owner’s parents were arguing, tears streaming down the woman’s face. The little girl, a child of nine, seemed less affected right up until her parents started separating toys she could keep and those that would have to be sold. You tended to lose everything when you got caught embezzling millions, not that he knew that at the time. He was scared, confused, and no one was paying him any attention.

When they finally noticed him watching from the corner of their daughter’s playroom, the decision to send him with Hybrid Control wasn’t a drawn out one at all. They regarded him with dispassion, and the tall man in a gold and black uniform reached for his wrist to pull him away.

Taehyung couldn’t say he was overly attached to the family. The parents cooed at him when they took him from his littermates and parents, stuck a bow on his head and dressed him up in the most expensive outfit he had ever owned, and presented him to their daughter on her birthday.

Then that was that. From then on they mostly treated him like a discarded teddy bear that had been left on the floor and needed to be put away, regardless of the fact that he talked, ate and was, as he’d always been told by his family and the woman who owned his parents, a very good boy.

The girl he was meant to grow up with, his person, his noona, barely looked up when they carried a wriggling Taehyung out, frantically reaching for her. Sure, she was bossy, changed her mind about what game they should play so much it made his head spin. Sure she never listened to what he wanted to do, and actually stripped him down to force him to put on clothes she liked better for the sake of her imaginary games, depending on the role she gave him. Sure she wasn’t…perfect, but that didn’t matter to him.

His parents had told him having an owner would be a wonderful thing, and of all their pups, he deserved a good home. They told him he would know his person right away, love them, and that the right human would cherish him.

The pup had often wondered, another expensive bobble in the big house with this distant family who brought him there, if he was doing something wrong. Because none of them inspired the feeling his parents told him about. Still, they were his home. His first real home that was meant to be his. And he must have been a bad boy to lose it.

Through all his crying, and pleading, and promises that he would be good from then on, a better boy than he ever was before, the humans gave him the same blank face they always had, ready to let the hybrid control officer drag him away. Then, they took a look at him, and their eyes widened. Taehyung’s heart skipped a beat, a whimper died in his throat. Were they changing their mind? Seeing that he was worth keeping after all? “Wait, we’d like his collar back.” The husband had said, all business. The collar they had bestowed on him was a bit heavy, and very flashy. Custom made and encrusted with quite a few jewels. When he doubted his place in their family, thought about wandering off to find someone who actually wanted to play with him and cuddle at night with him, he looked down at the accessory.

Surely they wouldn’t spend so much money getting it for him if they didn’t love him. His mother told him his human would love him so much, they’d shower him with nice things and kind words, stroke his belly when he was sad, and throw his favorite ball for hours with a smile on their face. Taehyung only shifted into his puppy form by request, when their daughter wanted to put bows in his fur or the game required an actual dog (according to her whims).

Her parents didn’t like him running around as a puppy any other time, because of “pet dander” (whatever that meant). Needless to say he had never run through their huge backyard chasing his favorite ball. He had never rolled in the mud after it rained while someone sprinted behind him with the hose to try washing him off.

Once the collar was ripped off his throat, he knew he never would. This was it. They really didn’t want him. He wasn’t a bad boy, he was the worst boy, and his cries started up in earnest. Though this time, he didn’t fight, didn’t protest when hybrid control took him from the large house, ready to let them throw him into the back of their scary, dark van with its barred, tinted windows.

That was when Gramps materialized from nowhere, asserting his right as a concerned citizen to know what was happening, and told them right then and there he was going to adopt the sobbing boy. Taehyung must have looked so pitiful, ears pressed flat in his fluffy golden hair, tail drooping lower than ever before. His big watery blue eyes, the only fault for an otherwise perfect specimen of a golden retriever hybrid, shining with oncoming tears.

Gramps was an eccentric fifty-five year old man at the time, dressed tackily in tartan pants with a yellow blazer and wearing a velvet top hat. He kind of reminded Taehyung of ringleaders from the circus show he had been to once with his owner and her family.

The hybrid control officers protested about the rules, how he had just been signed over to them and anyone wanting to adopt him would have to wait for Taehyung’s intake and his ten day hold to be over. Then they could submit an application like everyone else and see if they were approved.

Taehyung quivered, his eyes pleading with this strange human who seemed like the least threatening choice, hoping he would help. And he did. With a conspiratorial smile, he took out his wallet and his phone.

Two decades later, Taehyung still wasn’t sure exactly what happened, but he ended up going home Choi Han-Gyeol, which was the best thing that could have possibly happened that day. There, he found a playmate/friend in an emperor penguin hybrid named Seokjin who’d been rescued roughly a year prior to his arrival from a carnival that wasn’t equipped to provide for him properly.

The older boy showed him the ropes, got him used to living on the farm and assured him that Gramps was a good human that could be trusted. One of the first additions he’d made to his land after acquiring Seokjin was installing a new facility where the temperature stayed subarctic at all times so he could be comfortable when he needed to escape the summer heat.

Over the years, more hybrids had joined them, coming from a variety of backgrounds. Two of his hyungs were former wild hybrids, losing their families in separate incidents due to discrimination against their species. With Gramps as the common thread that tied them together at first, they had become close. Just the eight of them, thriving in their own little corner of the world.

And then there were seven, Gramps’ ashes scattered on the rocky shores of his favorite beach, just like he wanted. He was gone. He was free. Happy as that made the dog, it didn’t stop the persistent ache in his heart. For him or for the others.

They went on, because what choice did they have? The farm animals were taken care of, the house was grudgingly cleaned, but no one had any cheer, and it was starting to take its toll. They were usually a vibrant bunch with a rowdy household. Gramps scolded now and then, but they all knew he wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Hey, food’s done.” Yoongi greeted as Taehyung made his way into the kitchen. “Who’s going to be the one to drag the kid out here?”

Hoseok and Jimin, who had been quietly talking at the table, stared between each other. “Shouldn’t we let him sleep a little longer, hyung?” Jimin asked carefully. “You know he’s restless at night.”

Jungkook, their youngest, was holding himself responsible for the passing of their late owner, a burden all of them wished he would take off his shoulders. Somehow in the poor bunny’s head, he had convinced himself he could have prevented Gramps’ death. Noticed the signs of the impending heart attack sooner, or taken on more of the old man’s chores no matter how much he’d get yelled at for it.

But the reality of the situation would remain the same. The heart attack would have still happened, and no amount of wishing otherwise would have led to a different outcome. Shortly before that fateful day, they had all noticed Gramps slowing down, ever so slightly, and the change of his scent. He assured them it was a light cold, nothing more, and that he would take it easy. But deep down, each of them had known better.

Trying to give Jungkook time to work out his feelings was the plan. It had only been a week, and grief wasn’t linear anyway. They wanted to let him come to the conclusion he wasn’t to blame in his own time while offering him support.

“It’s past two in the afternoon,” Yoongi grumbled, sounding fairly annoyed, his thick tail swiping once across the floor. Of course, some of them were running low on patience. “The least he can do is get up and come eat with us, then go lay back down. But a shower probably wouldn’t kill him either.”

“He’s depressed, Yoongi. Gramps was here one minute, gone the next. And Jungkook was right there after it happened. There’s still a lot he needs to process.” Hoseok reasoned.

“Okay, well somebody go get him so he can process on a full stomach at least. Up until a week ago the bun was eating like he was in his third trimester of pregnancy, now he’s just nibbling at whatever I send up. It’s starting to piss me off to see all that food go to waste.” The words were harsh, but the three of them had been living with the mountain lion far too long not to see through the bluster. Yoongi was as worried as they all were. He sometimes made a separate meal just for Jungkook with all his favorites in an attempt to get him to eat a little bit more.

“I’ll go, hyung,” Taehyung volunteered, catching the big cat hybrid’s gaze of approval before he changed direction for the stairs. The older man said a quiet thank you, and added something about bringing the other members of their pack down if he saw them.

Taehyung ascended the creaky, spiraling staircase of the three-story farmhouse. For being such a large house, it was as cozy as a small log cabin on a winter’s eve. It never felt imposing and stuffy, like his first owners’ home had been with its air of emptiness.

This was a home Gramps had built not very long before meeting them. He liked to say he had a good intuition that all the extra space he had no use for when it was built, would be given purpose. And sure enough he found Seokjin, then Taehyung, followed by Yoongi, and the others trickled in steadily, until the big farmhouse was always loud and homey.

The third floor was mostly recreational— a game room, a movie room, even a nice home gym for Jungkook and whoever felt like joining him. The second floor housed them, their rooms close, just like they preferred.

Whoever didn’t want to sleep alone for any reason ranging from bad nightmares to general clinginess could stroll to the room across from theirs or right next door and climb into bed to snuggle down with a packmate. Gramps’ room was the only one facing the stairs, far down at the end of the hall.

Growing up, they had fun pretending they were in a cartoon, running from room to room chaotically and trying to startle Gramps by popping up from a door he didn’t expect, sometimes succeeding and sometimes getting frightened themselves (especially Hoseok and Jin).

Each step felt so heavy, and the hallway felt so long and simultaneously not long enough as the dog approached Gramps’ door, already sensing the sadness emanating from inside. Taehyung missed the Jungkook who wrestled with him and played pranks with him, even annoyed him from time to time.

They had lost Gramps and now, he really felt like they were losing themselves. It was no wonder, since he had been the only safe human for most of their lives. The world outside the farm was not as nice. They had to wear collars whenever they had a group outing, so none of them could be snatched up and carted off by hybrid control.

It reminded him of something strange Gramps had said a year or two ago, all of them outside enjoying the spring sunshine that day.

Jin set out the lunch he’d whipped up, Namjoon read in the shade while Hoseok played with Yoongi’s tail and he chased Jungkook and Jimin around.

The makane trio collapsed on top of each other in the sweet smelling grass, giggling and playfully nipping ears. He and Jimin joined together to pin Jungkook, who, despite being designated a prey hybrid, had muscles to spare. Competitive to a fault in their little games, Jungkook only stayed down for a minute before he was kicking up and falling on both of them with a triumphant laugh. Blunt teeth tugged at one of Taehyung’s floppy ears, but it didn’t hurt, the solid weight of the bunny’s strong body draped over him as he was half-lying on Jimin. When they realized this, Taehyung and Jungkook scrambled back, not wanting to accidentally be rough with their packmate’s wings. “Come on kids, time to eat.” Yoongi called. They all obediently sprinted over, nearly toppling into one another. Jin rolled his eyes good-naturedly, instructing them to use the hand sanitizer he’d brought along before accepting their meals.

As they chowed down, less than refined with no one to impress, Taehyung heard Jin ask Gramps if the food wasn’t to his liking.

“Nah, not that at all. You did a fine job like always Jinnie-boy.” The penguin preened at the compliment, his fair skin going pink. “But I’ve got a question for you boys, and I want you to answer honestly. Don’t worry about holding back on account of my feelings.”

“Why so cryptic, Gramps?” Yoongi asked, setting his chopsticks down to give the man his complete attention.

“Cause these needs saying and it’s important. I know I adopted each of you boys from some sticky situations. Some of you have spent most of your lives here. And I never was a spring chicken, but that’s beside the point I guess. I’m thinkin’ I did you a disservice, keeping you secluded here on the farm.”

“We like it here!” Jimin protested as soon as Gramps paused for a breath. His colorful wings ruffled out, indignant at the very notion that any of them could feel otherwise. “Why wouldn’t we? You provide us with all our needs, and we’re family.” Various voices joined in to agree.

“He’s right, HanGyeol-ssi.” Namjoon’s baritone cut through all of them. He hadn’t called Gramps that in ages. It was the only way he would address him for a month after arriving, but once Han-Gyeol drilled ‘Gramps’ into his head, he used the affectionate nickname as freely as the rest of them. That meant that Namjoon wanted to impress upon their elder how serious they were being. “You may not see yourself as our owner, but you’re our human. You taking us in, giving us this life, it means more than we can express.” The others dipped their heads in solemn nods. “Plus, you’re not exactly keeping us in chains. If we wanted to go, we wouldn’t be here.” A dimple appeared in his left cheek as he smirked.

Gramps tipped his head back, his sharp crackle of a laugh setting everyone more at ease. “Fair enough, and I did ask for honesty, eh? Nice to know you stick around and mooch off me cause ya want to.” he teased. “But I had to ask. The world’s changing. More humans are taking their heads out of their asses these days. I hear beyond the barrier, hybrids are getting more rights every year. Soon it won’t be mandatory for them to wear collars in public if they don’t want. They’ll be able to carry identification cards.”

Taehyung’s ears twitched in interest, the others seemingly as intrigued as he was. The farm was situated just past the old barrier, one that separated the half of the city mostly inhabited by hybrids from the one with predominately human inhabitants. Nothing said humans couldn’t live amongst hybrids, or vice versa, but before any of them were born, it was decided that maybe the best way to keep the peace after the emergence of hybrids was through separation.

At least, that was until hybrids and humans could come to a better understanding. They couldn’t even come together and decide how to govern on one accord. Most humans that chose to make their home amongst the hybrid population kept to themselves, or they already had hybrids in the family whom they wanted to be comfortable. When they asked long ago what made Han-Gyeol purchase twenty acres of land in the hybrid district before he actually had hybrids, he said that hybrids always struck him as being above drama more than people. All they really wanted was peace and equality. Humans wanting to live in their district just had to pass a background check, prove they weren’t linked to any hate crimes against hybrids and hadn’t ever been convicted for abusing one.

There also wasn’t such a thing as true “ownership” of a hybrid this side of the barrier. If a human and hybrid chose each other, the process was a lot more like when a human adopted an orphaned child, or vice versa, when a hybrid adopted themselves a human family member. Things were of course much more oppressive on the human side. That’s the side all of them had suffered on.

“I know none of you have had an easy hand out there,” Gramps said, like a mind-reader, “but if you ever got the urge to set out on your own and see life beyond this farm, I wouldn’t stop you.”

“Where’s this coming from?” Jin whispered. “Are we a nuisance?”

“You’ve been slacking on your chores too much for video games, Kookie.” Taehyung pretended to scold.

Jungkook’s mouth popped open as he clutched his face in silent horror, making them all laugh.

“Thanks for humoring an old man.” Gramps sighed. “Just promise me none of ya are going to sit around in the dumps when I’m gone. Find you a nice human if you decide to take in another one. Preferably a newer model with low mileage. If it’s a pretty lady, even better.” He winked, to which they all groaned. Gramps…always the jokester.

That was then and this was now, when the strange advice seemed more relevant than ever. Taehyung knocked softly, hearing Jungkook shuffle around as he more than likely sat up from the cocoon he’d made of the blankets.

Adopting a human, huh? That was all well and good to suggest, but Taehyung didn’t even know how to keep a pet. Sure, they shared the farm with some chickens, ducks, a few goats, even a horse and sheep and two pigs…but none of them were pets. The hybrids considered them just as much residents of the farm as they were. Friends. Their animal sides, even though some of them were the natural predators of the lesser animals, made them sympathetic to the barnyard creatures in a way few humans besides Gramps could be. It was absurd to think of keeping a puppy, when he was partially a dog genetically himself. A human…the member of their family they had lost was a human. And nothing and no one could ever replace their Gramps or his impact on them.

But maybe…just maybe… Taehyung thought of the gloominess that shrouded the whole house. How normally mild-mannered and patient Yoongi was more huffy than ever, how Jungkook had retreated into himself, how Jin had stopped telling jokes and all of Namjoon’s time was spent in the library or writing depressing poems…he knew what he had to do, for all of them.

He had to adopt a new human.

~~~

(Y/N) unwrapped her burger, salivating as the smell hit her full on. She currently had the whole bench to herself, free to set down her tote bag and unwind a little. Silently sending up thanks for the food, the young woman took a big bite, groaning happily as she started to chew. It was the little things that made life bearable at times. Like munching on a juicy burger in the peace of her favorite local park.

Bit of an overcast day, but that didn’t stop the people who were walking along the trail, or unwinding on benches or blankets just like her. Some even had their hybrids with them.

There was also a girl throwing a ball to a dachshund, who raced after it as fast as those stubby legs would allow, and (Y/N) was sure if the pup was a hybrid or an ordinary dog. It could be hard to distinguish at times, especially from a distance.

She sighed, trying not to be too consumed in thoughts of the past, when she and her childhood dog had done the same.

Ha-Kun was a loyal mutt. She and her father had found and rescued him when she was in middle school. (Y/N) remembering taking the shivering puppy home and getting him dry after fishing him out of a river. Instantly, the young girl fell in love with his doleful brown eyes and laughably long ears. There was no telling exactly what was in his genetics, but basset hound probably featured prominently.

That was about the time when (Y/N) made another discovery—her gift. Touching the dog had sent sparks skittering through her fingertips. She’d assumed it was static after rubbing him vigorously with a towel. But as she reached to stroke his head, something strange occurred.

In that moment, (Y/N) could truly feel everything the dog felt. His contentment, the fear that was melting into gratitude, and a newfound sense of devotion. Running to retrieve her dad, she tried to explain what happened, words likely making little sense judging by the confusion on his face.

After he had calmed her down, (Y/N) tried telling him what happened once again, and her father listened with intrigue. Returning to the kitchen together, they found the pup still wrapped in towels and cozy on the kitchen table, smacking his lips in a yawn at them. Giggling, (Y/N) decided then and there he looked too at home to abandon back outside, where he might find himself in another predicament, and her dad agreed. Their new family member was named ‘Ha-Kun’ shortly after, and he made their small family complete over the years. It turned out (Y/N) truly did have a special ability. She was an empath. Specifically, one who could feel and understand the emotions of animals.

It had come as mildly surprising at first, but her father shrugged it off, hypothesizing maybe it came from her mother’s side. Magic was uncommon in the modern era, but not unheard of. People still cropped up now and then who were born with some special talent or another. Making plants grow, running at super-speed, teleporting, and talking to animals.

(Y/N) couldn’t talk to them per se. She had never been able to crack the code to understand ‘words’, but understanding their feelings was very close to that. One touch and everything in its head flowed right through her. Her keen knack for getting them had made her decide to become an animal behaviorist.

Her profession was rewarding, and it felt like her calling, traveling everywhere from households to zoos in a bid to make sure animals had a voice through her. With insight into how they felt made it easier to deduce what was happening and why their behavior may have suddenly changed. The work paid handsomely, but well, it did get a bit lonely.

Ha-Kun had finally slowed down too much to play fetch, and then too much to go on long walks. He ate less, he slept more, and the day she touched his back and peeked into his mind, just as she had so many times before, it broke her heart. That day was a blur.

(Y/N) tried her hardest not to dwell on it. But there was crying. So much crying. Ha-Kun was sad to be leaving her all alone, but she assured him he had been by her side as long as he could manage, and she would never forget him. Her dad met her at the vet’s for moral support, and to say his own goodbyes. They’d watched Ha-Kun drift off into a peaceful sleep together.

That was eight months ago, and (Y/N) still felt the echoes of that loss. There were times when she came home to her empty apartment and felt his absence so profoundly, it was all she could do not to sink to her knees and sob. Ha-Kun had been her best friend, her confidant, there for her always. Each time work had been draining, a blind date her friend set her up on went horribly wrong, or things otherwise weren’t going her way, she could come home and tell him all about it. Her power let her know that animals truly did understand far more than people gave them credit for, and Ha-Kun was a sweet, supportive soul.

People in her life who meant well made suggestions, saying maybe she should try adopting another pet, or maybe even adopt a hybrid. And (Y/N) had considered it, knowing her old friend would rest easier to know she was opening her heart to a new friend. But the few times she had half-heartedly visited hybrid adoption agencies or pet shelters, the spark of connection to make the leap was never there. (Y/N) would never do a hybrid or a pet the disservice of bringing them home when her heart wasn’t in it. She believed both hybrids and animals deserved only homes who were fully committed to them.

Maybe one day, her soul would match with another’s again. Looking down in her lap, (Y/N) realized she’d let her burger grow cold, nibbling it with less enthusiasm so it wouldn’t go to waste. This was the first time she had been back to this park in eight months. It was one of the last places she and Ha-Kun had been together in his final days, and for that reason, she’d thought it best to get some distance from the spot for a while.

Watching everyone happy, whether with their significant others or hybrids, was bittersweet. (Y/N) would never wish the pain that still lingered on any of them. They were strangers who had done nothing to her. But would it be unreasonable if she wished she had a reason to join them again?

Her eyes focused on the girl and dachshund again, the dog slowing down, finally tired after a long hour and a half of chasing its ball. It looked like he wanted just one more throw, and his owner seemed to understand and obliged. It was fascinating watching an animal so small work up that kind of speed.

But as he took off again, a second blur appeared from nowhere, outrunning him to dart for the ball and snatch it up without hesitation. The dachshund was so caught off guard he slipped, eating dirt as he tumbled through the grass. The second canine, much larger than his stout frame, paused to stand over him, head dipping in a show of concern. The dachshund scrambled to his feet and shook himself off as the owner ran over.

She approached warily, unsure about the intentions of the unknown dog, but wanting to check on her own pet. (Y/N) could now see the other dog was a gorgeous golden retriever. As the girl approached, it released the ball from his mouth and nudged it toward her. Bemused but still cautious, she picked it up, and her dachshund trotted over to stand behind her.

The golden dropped to a crouch, fluffy tail an elegant flag waving through the air. Ah, clumsy as his approach had been, (Y/N) was certain that he wanted to join their game. Shaking her head, the girl scooped up her dachshund, dropping the ball at the golden’s feet and walking away. His ears drooped a little, but he picked up the abandoned toy and began to trot around the park.

(Y/N) watched curiously as he made his way around the area, approaching various people and hybrids. Some seemed interested in the dog, and offered him a few quick pats before turning back to their affairs.

Others ignored him entirely, and a few times an agitated hybrid or grumpy dog had blocked their person and stood their ground, making it clear he wasn’t welcome in their space. Each rejection seemed to discourage the poor dog, his tail falling lower and lower. (Y/N)’s heart really went out to him.

Though she couldn’t help but wonder where he had come from, and where his owner was. Surely a golden retriever with such nice muscle definition rippling beneath his glossy, well-groomed coat had a home.

One that made sure he was fed, groomed and properly exercised. As she continued admiring him, his eyes swung in her direction. Human and dog stood still, just observing each other unhurriedly. Then, mind made up, he was coming closer, ball still held in his mouth, tail raising optimistically. (Y/N) couldn’t help but grin. He was no quitter, that was for sure.

Reaching the bench, he was so close she could now see and admire what a stunning creature he was up close. This was the kind of dog that dominated the ring at dog shows.

He radiated warmth, and she had to admit (Y/N) wasn’t sure she had ever seen a golden retriever so silky. It was his eyes that did her in, though.

They were the deepest, most soulful blue. She knew enough about breeds to know that blue-eyes weren’t possible in a purebred golden, even though he looked like one in every other way. Maybe there was some throwback in his genes, some physically non-evident breed making itself known.

Whatever it was, he was no less beautiful. His eyes shining, he eased his head towards her lap. At first, she thought he was going for the remains of her burger, which she had all but forgotten about at his appearance. But it quickly became clear he had another objective altogether. (Y/N) smiled gently, cupping her hands and holding them out.

The dog readily dropped his head into them, and (Y/N) couldn’t contain her loud gasp, nearly recoiling. The emotions that filtered into her… It was such a strong mix of grief and loneliness. He reminded her…of herself.

“Oh, buddy…” she breathed, her eyes feeling heavy and wet. The canine whimpered, dropping the ball on the bench and just standing there with his head on her lap. She used her thumbs to stroke under his eyes, as if she were wiping away unshed tears. The golden whined a few more times, but made no move to remove his head from her lap, sitting on his haunches and pushing in further until his snout touched her stomach. (Y/N) knew that even if she stood up, he would still be at waist-level with her. He was a good size for a golden retriever, but she was also pretty petite for a human. “How long have you been feeling like this?” She asked him.

The golden slowly withdrew his head, huffing a short bark in response. More than ever, she wished she could do more than understand animal emotions. If only she knew exactly what pain was ailing his heart.

There was still no one in sight coming to claim this guy, and his heart called out to her too strongly for her to get up and leave. She had no more appointments for the afternoon anyway. Reaching for the ball he had placed on the bench, (Y/N) showed it to him and watched a little light return to his eyes. “Would me tossing this for you cheer you up a little? I noticed you’ve been trying to play with someone for a while now.”

More light trickled back into those expressive baby blues, a slow wag setting his tail in motion. Taking that as a yes, (Y/N) stood, and sure enough, the dog’s head was at her waist. Putting her tote bag on and throwing her trash away, (Y/N) moved out into the grass with him so there’d be more room to throw. He stood at the ready, and she hoped he wouldn’t be too disappointed with her weak tosses.

When she let the ball fly and he took off like a shot, all she could do was gape. In no time flat the pretty dog was barreling back, and the ball was back in her possession. “Whoa, you really live up to your reputation as a retriever.” She praised. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, eyes squinting in pride. “Wanna do it again?”

The strong bark and way he pawed the ground in anticipation made a full smile break out across her lips. (Y/N) lost count of how many times she watched his sail across the ground like he was floating and return with the ball in his grip. Both their cares seemed to melt away, the dog becoming more animated with every throw, and (Y/N) remembering the joy of playing with a pet in the park. He was much speedier than Ha-Kun ever was, but the fun of watching her old friend bring back the ball was the way his stubby legs maneuvered. This guy was all grace and speed, covering the distance to her in long strides.

(Y/N) felt like it was just the two of them, existing to play with each other, until something cold brushed her nose, and she looked up to see snowflakes drifting down from the dark sky.

It was harder to ascertain the exact time they had been out here. It was a dreary day already and she had come here around lunchtime. With the shorter days of winter, it could be approaching sunset for all she knew. Which meant…

Her new friend looked at her, and his tail dropped, all the energy bleeding right out of him. He knew, she realized.

“I,” (Y/N) swallowed, voice feeling thicker than it should. Why did the thought of saying goodbye sting so badly. She barely knew this dog. And there was no way he was just some stray. He probably got lost, stumbled here, and was too distracted by the prospect of playing to sniff his way home. She likely should have been more focused on helping reunite him with his owner than indulging both of their lonely hearts. “It’s getting late.” She told him.

He barked once, staring behind him, towards the trail that would soon be lit by the light posts coming on. It cut close to the woods, but the area was safe, so even in the evenings, joggers still got in their last bit of running for the day.

Unsure what he wanted, (Y/N) watched him lope off toward the trail, stop, and turn back around. When she remained frozen, he barked a bit more urgently, running to her and nudging at her. She stumbled, able to tell even when being gentle, this dog was strong. “I could be completely off base, but you’re acting like I’m supposed to be following you.”

More urgent barks, and it clicked. That’s exactly what he wanted.

“Um…do you actually know your way home? Do you want me to walk you there?” A calmer bark. “Is it far?”

To her utter astonishment, the dog shook his head. For the first time since meeting him, (Y/N) wondered if she was wrong. What if he was never just some pretty dog, but a hybrid? It might explain those eyes.

And, if that was the case, she should probably be more cautious about following him to parts unknown. Friendly and playful and lonely as he had been, a hybrid was very much in touch with their human side. If he had any ill intentions, what would she do? He might be able to overpower her if he shifted.

A long whine broke her from her thoughts, and he delicately touched his cold nose to the back of her hand, his eyes nothing short of pleading. Puppy dog eyes weren’t fair coming from a master. There was a bit of desperation she could sense from him at the touch. He really, really wanted her to come along. (Y/N) remembered the initial sense that she was meeting a kindred soul, which caused her to feel such a fast attachment to him in the first place. For whatever reason, she wanted to trust him.

“Alright,” she adjusted her tote bag and took a step forward. The golden retriever spun in happy circles. “Lead the way.”

#bts fanfic #hybrid!bts #hybrid!au #hybrid!hoseok #hybrid!jimin #hybrid!jin #hybrid!jungkook #hybrid!namjoon #hybrid!taehyung #bts x reader #bts x you #jungkookxyou #hoseokxyou #namjoonxyou #yoongixyou #taehyungxyou #jiminxyou #jinxyou #hybrid!btsxreader #ot7 bangtan #bangtan x you #ot7 x reader #bts writing #poly!bts #home calls the heart

[hotwings0203]

The Middle Ground

*Deep breath*

Woo. Okay. First of all I would like to thank everyone for 400 freaking followers. That is seriously so insane to me, I mean I’ve only been on Tumblr for like half a year.

This piece is a contribution to @bakugosbratx ‘s collaboration. It has around 40k words in total, so it’s my longest piece yet. Because Tumblr formatting is shit, I have provided an Ao3 link in case you like the chapter setup better there. I hope you all enjoy, and please please heed the warnings ahead!

Pairing: Bully!Fiance!Touya x F reader

Summary: You've been friends with Tenko Shimura for as long as you can remember...but when you're forced into an arranged marriage with Dabi, that friendship is put to a test.

TW: Noncon, bullying, language, Dabi and Hawks are scumbags, gangbang, graphic depictions of violence, gang violence, arranged marriage

Tags: @hi--rubi @bakugosbratx

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31747549

Touya Todoroki kicks out his legs and slumps into the limo seat. A permanent scowl has inhabited his petulant expression, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by his glaring father and uncomfortable family. It isn’t like he wanted to be here anyway, what were they expecting? Especially when they were practically planning out his whole life’s demise right in front of his eyes.

 Think he’s being dramatic?

 Try putting yourself in his shoes for a second: after being hounded by his ape-like father to put some hair gel on and to ‘take out those fiendish piercings, you look like a hooligan,’ he was also forced into a suit that felt more like a straight jacket. Worst of all, he had to keep a straight posture.

 It was complete, utter torture for the young rogue.

 Only after stalking and lurking around his mother for the entire day did Touya have it revealed to him that the place he had to dress up like a prissy for was none other than the house of who he was going to be betrothed to.

 Once the bomb was dropped, all hell broke loose in the Todoroki house not like that was anything new, merely hours away from leaving to greet the parents-in-law.

 “Is this a fucking joke? You people weren’t even gonna tell me where we were going until I had to beg like a dog!” Touya raged with balled-up fists, smoke curling from his elbows and shins as he stood in his parents’ room and interrogated his mother.

 “Language, Touya!” An exasperated Rei Todoroki sighed while ironing her and Fuyumi’s dresses. “You’re of age to get married, and you’re an adult now- you knew this was bound to happen soon.”

 “Come on, Touya, it’s not the end of the world. You’ll like her; her family is really well known in hero society for hosting the annual hero galas.” Fuyumi leaned against the doorframe behind her irate brother with her arms crossed, peering disappointedly at him from over the bridge of her glasses. “I’m pretty sure her parents even work in the Hero Commission headquarters, and as for the girl, I’ve heard so many good things about her from-”

 “I don’t give a damn about some elitist brat who I’m gonna have to coddle. And I’m still in school, I’m not licensed yet.” Touya snapped at both the women, Fuyumi rolling her eyes and shaking her head as she walked away. Rei let out another heavy sigh and finished up her meticulous ironing.

 “I just don’t understand why in the hell you’d tell me on the day of us meeting them, like why couldn’t I have a heads up?”

“Because then we’d have to put up with your little tantrums even more in advance. Plus, it's not like us telling you earlier would’ve changed the decision or your reaction,” Natsuo called out from his room across the hall.

 “You know, she’s not some random gold digger. I’m fairly certain her family is more wealthy than us, and by uniting our families, we’ll both have many advantages in society and for a healthy bloodline-”

 But Shoto’s chiming in was cut off with the sound of choking from Natsuo drinking something at his last words. Touya didn’t appreciate his least favorite sibling’s unwanted opinion, especially when it was about the topic of banging some prissy chick.

 He let Shoto know what he thought of his comment by whipping around with a snarl and towering over the youngest Todoroki.

 Well, not really towering since Shoto was quickly catching up to Touya in terms of height, a fact that Touya loathed admitting.

 “You-” he jabbed a finger into the other’s firm chest, “-are the last person I wanna hear sex advice from, got it? I doubt a social degenerate like you would even get pussy anyways from the way you can barely understand a joke or social cues.” (“What did I say about language, Touya!”)

 Natsuo was positively howling now, and Shoto merely shrugged his brother’s scarred finger off as Touya kept advancing on him and spitting venom. Rei was desperately trying to quell the disaster waiting to happen by raising her voice slightly and telling all her boys to back off and calm down, but she was cut off by Fuyumi calling out to ask for her dress.

 “ENOUGH!” 

 All the other Todorokis simultaneously jumped when they heard his booming voice. Enji Todoroki appeared in front of his family, no doubt growing increasingly irritated by the pandemonium happening. He glared around at them all until his eyes landed on Touya, who grew quiet but still held a scowl on his face. Endeavor’s eyes narrowed as he approached his heir, and Touya subconsciously straightened up taller.

 “You can’t make me do this. We’ve never had one single conversation about the topic of marriage, and you think I’m just gonna give in on the night you planned to make me into some domestic schmuck? Were you even going to tell me yourself before we left?” Touya growled, maintaining eye contact with his brutish father.

 “You’ll do as I say, Touya. Your duty comes to your family before any wish of becoming a hero. You need to stop acting like a delinquent, and a wife would do some good to tether you to reality-”

 “Oh, right, because you’d know all about how to be good to a family, right?” Touya burst out as he sneered and gestured to the scars littering his body.

 Even Natsuo had stopped snickering as the house grew deathly quiet. Fuyumi sucked in a soft inhale, Shoto simply stared while observing the spectacle in front of him, and Rei was stock-still.

 Endeavor didn’t back down from his son’s impertinence, however. Instead, he stepped forward until both men were chest-to-chest and looked at Touya straight into his face, purposely neglecting to ponder on the way his son’s lip trembled and his eyes twitched as if he wanted to rub them. He knew if he saw Touya as the pouty seven year old he once was and loved, he would give in.

 “You will do what I ask. Do not embarrass our family or me.”

 Touya’s jaw clenched as he tried to stare his father down, but after a couple of painstakingly long moments he finally looked away. Everyone let out their breaths and started to get their coats. That was that.

 End of discussion.

 Unbeknownst to him, however, he wasn’t the only one who had been saddled with this news recently.

 Your parents might not have told you on the day of said guests coming over, but you weren’t given an option to argue either.

 In fact, you were told so casually over dinner a few weeks ago that one would think you were the crazy one for “overreacting,” in the exact words of your parents to be more specific.

 “Honey, you’re almost done with your hero licensing school. It's about time you start thinking of your future asides from your job and internships,” your mother had gestured to you as her delicate hands picked up a wine glass.

 “Dad, seriously?” You asked in disbelief, fork suspended in midair. “I haven’t even graduated yet, plus you promised when I was done I could intern with you at the headquarters-!”

 But your father merely hummed disinterestedly as if the topic of your very imminent future could do with less talking and more of shoveling roast beef into his mouth.

 You incredulously turn to your mom, hoping for some reprieve.

 “I don’t even know his name. Who is he, and why did you choose him anyway?” you grouch, pouting and pushing the casserole on your plate around.

 “His name is Touya Todoroki, and he’s merely a year or two older than you. I’m sure you’ve heard of his father, Endeavor. He’s the number two hero, and I believe his other two children are closer to your age...Natsuo and Fuyumi? Their youngest son is Shoto, you must have seen his performance at the sports festival a little while ago.”

 “T-Touya?” You almost choke on your asparagus when you hear his name. “Mom, I’ve seen him like, three times throughout the entirety of me being at that school. And I heard he’s a complete menace too! He’s got a reputation, him and his stupid friends. I know for a fact they’ve been giving Tenko a hard time for the past year for no reason.”

 You’re not lying either. You’ve seen the intimidating black-haired boy skulking around some of your classes with his cronies in tow. It wasn’t like he shirked off his grades or anything; you were fairly certain he was pretty smart...when he tried, that is. When he wasn’t ditching class and giving his teachers a hard time, you usually saw him push your best friend Tenko Shimura around. This included shoving the quiet boy down the stairs, clapping him over the head a little too hard to be passed off as friendly, and childishly throwing spitballs and other trash at the back of his head. Fortunately, you’d never had the pleasure of meeting his highness personally, and so far, you’d been secretly grateful for only picking up his binders and homework off the floor of Tenko’s aftermath attacks rather than bearing the full brunt of Touya’s abuse. You weren’t even sure he knew you existed, and to be frank, you’d like to keep it that way.

 However, it seemed as though your parents didn’t share the same sentiments.

 Your father finally decided to give his piece, which wasn’t in your favor, surprise surprise.

 “A sturdy family, they are. We’ve invited them for dinner two weeks from now, so you better curb that attitude of yours well before they arrive. Our decision is final.”

 You stay quiet, opting not to argue any further and upset your parents. To be honest, you weren’t known to be too rebellious or spoiled for that matter. You were a straightforward child- you got good grades, you didn’t trouble yourself or your parents with any drama or school nonsense, and you put up a good family name when in the presence of outsiders. To say that you and your parents were joined at the hip would be a bit of a stretch, though. You simply did what they asked, and they rewarded you with anything you wanted. Nothing more and nothing less. It’s not like they forced you to do anything unreasonable except getting married to some degenerate, so you usually followed pursuit. 

 So, instead of causing a scene at the dinner table, you finish up your food, clear the table, and stomp upstairs in the sanctuary of your room. You flop on the bed, and just for good measure you pummel a pillow in front of you.

 This can’t be happening, you groan to yourself.

 After a couple of minutes of finishing your tantrum, you decide to call Tenko. He was definitely someone who’d share the same disdain for the name Touya Todoroki.

 You dial his number, and after a couple of rings he finally picked up.

 “Y/N? What’s up?”

 It takes less than 5 minutes for you to explain your ordeal, and he’s quiet for a few moments.

 “Tenko? You there?”

 “Yeah, yeah I’m still here,” he says slowly.

 “Well? What do you think?” You urge, needing him to reassure you you weren’t being unreasonable for not wanting an arranged marriage with some psycho delinquent, family name or not.

 “I mean, obviously it sucks ass, and I wouldn’t wanna get saddled with Tou-yuck as a fiance,” you giggle at the absurd nickname and he shares a low chuckle too. “But...I don’t know, I mean I kinda expected you to sound more upset about it.”

 “Don’t get me wrong, of course I'm pissed, man. But what the hell am I supposed to do? I can’t really argue my way out of this, and even if I did, it would be so awkward between our families since his dad and my parents work so closely at the HC. I don’t think there's any way to properly react to this,” you finish helplessly, biting your lip.

 “Whatever. Just don’t expect me to throw rose petals and rice at him when he shoves me into the lockers after school,” Tenko says dryly, and you can’t help but scoff.

 “As if. Y’know, maybe that actually is a silver lining in all this. If we get engaged or whatever during the school year he might just go easy on you if he knows we’re friends.”

 “Hmm yeah, maybe we’ll hold hands and throw each other picnics too while we’re at it!” You can practically hear his eye roll over the phone. “Speaking of prince charming, what are you gonna wear when they come?”

 Which brings you back to now.

 T-minus 30 minutes until the Todorokis make their appearance through your front door.

 As much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise, there was no mistaking the butterflies in your stomach. You had adorned a warm knee-length dress to match the snow outside yet still look cute, meticulously done your hair in an up-do with some strands framing your face and light makeup. Your goal wasn’t to impress anyone but rather show the best natural side of you so that if any part of you wasn’t satisfactory to what met the Todorokis’ eye, they could still back out.

 You stand in front of the mirror and tilt your head slightly, assessing yourself. You look straight at your reflection and practice your bow. After feeling confident in your preparation, you decide to send a quick picture of yourself to Tenko to get his opinion.

 6:40: Looks okay?

 Not even two minutes later as you’re lacing up your flats does his notification pop up on your screen, and you smile at his punctuality.

 Ten-ten: You look great.👍 Don’t freak out okay? It’s not like anyone’s opinion should matter, especially not Tou-yuck’s

 6:45: Ugh, you’re right. Idk why I feel like I’m gonna throw up

 6:46: Oh fuck I think I hear their car

 Wait oh my god it's a limo wtf??

 When your parents call you down to greet the guests, you toss your phone on the bed and hobble across the room to close your lights and door. You don’t see the three dots coming up and disappearing as Tenko Shimura deletes the message of ‘actually, you look beautiful’ after reading your answer.

 ***************

 You frantically straighten out your dress and wipe your sweaty palms on your knees as you stand behind your parents when they open the door.

 First comes in the big man himself, a towering build of brute force and a stoic aura surrounding his presence. His brows are furrowed, but he doesn’t look angry. Your father and Enji shake hands and clap each other on their backs as your family moves back to make space for the rest of the family to enter. A woman you assume to be Rei shakes off the snow from her shoes before stepping inside the threshold, and when you make eye contact and greet her she smiles demurely at you.

 It warms your heart, much to your chagrin.

 Then, all time seems to stop as you see his shadow step in before he does. Your heart skips a beat or two and the wind swirls around him, causing snowflakes to latch onto his figure and obscure his face for a moment. 

 But when he fully comes into view, it does nothing to calm your heart that seems to be slamming against your ribcage.

 The white snowflakes blend into his porcelain-colored hair, which sticks out in little tufts although you could’ve sworn he had black hair at school…?. Dark purple patches cover underneath his eyes and the lower half of his face, along with small staples that seem to hold the skin up. However, his eyes are what captivate you the most, a bright turquoise that scrutinizes you under the glare of fluorescent lights.

 You freeze like a deer in headlights, hesitating a fraction of a second before bowing hastily to make up for the pause. Touya scoffs slightly before barely tilting his head and averting his eyes to your mother, who is ushering the rest of the family inside to the living room. Natsuo, Fuyumi, and Shoto follow after their eldest brother, all of them bowing more respectfully than the first sibling and giving you small smiles and waves.

 You trail behind to close the door, wanting to stall as long as possible before the inevitable bonding. As you turn from shutting the dark mahogany, you catch your dad’s eyes as he turns as well and you blanch obviously- needless to say, he isn’t amused and sends you a warning glare. 

 Taking a deep breath in a poor attempt to still your nerves, you walk as gracefully as you can to the living room, one foot in front of the other. As expected, when you cross into the area all light conversation stops as you reach a seat in one of the white leather loveseats. You can acutely feel Rei and Enji’s eyes especially trained on you as they observe their future daughter-in-law and her mannerisms. Luckily, your parents have given you years of practice in public events on how to act like the perfect little lady.

 Poised, calm, and collected, you recall the main attributes your parents had always said elders look for.

 “Y/N, was it? I believe you and Touya go to the same school?” Rei speaks up after you settle comfortably, and you can’t help but notice that although their family is known for ice cold or burning hot quirks, her voice reminds you of a good medium between the two; it sounds like springtime, a transition itself.

 You fidget uncomfortably before answering. “Yes ma'am, I think so. I might have seen him around the halls, and we may have had classes once or twice…” but you trail off as Touya coughs loudly, and rudely. He turns his head to look away from you not-so-subtly and the room temperature rises a few degrees as Endeavor’s mustache begins to flame. He glares at his son, but Touya stubbornly stares at the floor with an obvious scowl on his face.

 Well fuck you, too, you think as your smile begins to strain.

 Desperately, Fuyumi tries to fill in the silence by asking a follow up question.

 “Um, Y/N, what are you studying? Touya’s trying to get officially licensed at school so he can skip internships and just head straight to dad’s agency after he graduates.”

 “Well, since I don’t have a quirk I’m not doing any of the training courses, but my parents have some networks in the Hero Commision. Ultimately I decided to go into Department of Management and General Studies-”

 “Wait, you don’t have a quirk?” Touya surprisingly bursts out, eyes bulging out of their sockets. His voice is deep and grating, as if he spent his early days being a chainsmoker.

 “No, I don’t.” You say without missing a beat, increasingly getting a good feel of what type of person your fiance is and his possible superiority complex. “But as I was saying, even though I wasn’t born with a quirk I know I can succeed after my parents in aiding the Hero Commission and the annual galas. If I get licensed after graduation, I can kind of follow the same path as you in terms of skipping all the internships and stuff and get straight to work. Y’know, helping out in the foundations of future heroes is just as important as being an actual hero,” You say proudly as you stare straight at Touya.

 Your parents and a majority of the Todorokis nod in agreement, and the only one who doesn’t seem to share the same values as you rolls his eyes and mumbles under his breath.

 After that nice little ice breaker and a couple of other meaningless conversations between the other siblings and you, your mother finally decides to call in for dinner.

 You breathe out a sigh of relief and stand, your dress riding up your thighs for a moment as you get up. Out of the corner of your eye you see Touya glance momentarily at your slightly exposed legs before sliding up your body and finally meeting your eyes. He catches you staring and gives you a knowing smirk. Your face lights on fire and you look around to make sure no one is watching before you flip him the bird.

 He actually laughs, and you grimace as the butterflies in your stomach come back to life and travel up your throat.

 Natsuo turns around curiously to see the source of his brother’s rare gravely laugh. When he sees you both emerging out of the room at the same time, he flashes you a lopsided grin, very much akin to his brother’s.

 You shake your head, trying to quell the rising smile on your face as you take a seat at the marble table. Everyone finds their own chair, and much to your surprise Touya takes one right across from you. Whether or not it's a coincidence, you don’t want to get your hopes up.

 Chatter resumes as both sets of parents talk about recent hero news and the missions funded by the headquarters. Shoto and Fuyumi ladle takoyaki and ramen into their bowls while Touya picks at the miniscule helping of the other assortments and kaiseki on his glass plate. You decide to wait until everyone has finished taking food until you start digging in just to be polite, a fact that Natsuo pipes up on.

 “You don’t have to wait for us to finish y’know, we’ll just end up keep waiting on each other out of guilt.” he says kindly.

 “Oh, no worries. I just wanted to make sure you guys took enough-” but you’re cut off for the second time that evening by the same person, and it takes every ounce of self restraint you have not to dump the ramen bowl on his white hair.

 “Yeah, I mean we already know you’re so uptight, no need to shove it in our faces,” Touya rumbles and Natsuo swats his arm as he glances at you apologetically.

 “Sorry about him, he’s got a warped sense of humor.”

 “It’s fine, I get it. Some people just think they’re better ‘cuz of unseen reasons,even with lame quirks,” you snipe and you hear Shoto subtly snort into his cup.

 Touya’s nostrils flare and his forearm erupts in light blue flames. Endeavor and your parents are staring at you both, and it's not just his flames that warms your face.

 But Fuyumi, along with her ice quirk, seems to know just how to cool everyone down again.

 “Y/N, have you ever helped your parents out in any of the HC events?” she takes your hand in hers, and even though you expect cold palms, all you feel radiating off of her is warmth. She seemed to be saying I’m sorry about him.

 So for the time being, you decid to grit your teeth and bear it. It’s not like your parents were even pretending to care about his shitty attitude either, so why should you give in any more?

 “Yes, I have actually. A couple of months ago my parents were the sponsors of the annual Hero Gala, and I was the one who sent out the invitations to all the heroes and ensured their attendance. I even got to invite Gran Torino!” You can’t help but say animatedly-no matter how juvenile your excitement is, being in contact with pro-heroes was always exhilarating and nerve-wrecking.

 Hench the massive pools of sweat gathering under your armpits.

 And finally the youngest speaks up.

 “So out of all the heroes you’ve talked to or helped, which one’s your favorite?”

 “Uhhh probably Midnight, she's just so badass...and I won’t lie, she's pretty hot too,” you blush and Natuso whoops at the flush in your cheeks. Fuyumi laughs and agrees wholeheartedly, and even Shoto lets out a small smile Touya continues to pick at his sashimi as if no one had spoken.

  You marveled at how at home the Todoroki siblings make you feel, even in your own house. They went well together, and fill in the gaps where the other lacked.

 Too bad the same couldn’t be said for the one you were destined to marry.

 Nevertheless, the rest of the evening went by without any more mishaps or interruptions, thankfully. You and Rei had a couple of conversations too, about school and winter and what you liked to do in your free time. Even Enji spared a minute, but it wasn’t so much of a conversation as it was just a gruff ‘I hear from your father that you’re doing well in school. I might hire you at my agency if you surpass the other students’, and a meek ‘yessir, I’ll try my hardest’ from you. 

 When it was time to leave, you hugged Fuyumi and shook Natuso and Shoto’s hands along with giving proper bows to Rei and Enji. Only Touya was left, and you’d be damned if you made the first move of civility towards him. You settled for a little bow, peering up at him through your lashes. He mimicked the same motion he did when he first entered, a pathetic little head tilt that you assumed to be the world's worst impersonation of a bow. 

 But his eyes never left yours, and you couldn’t decipher the unreadable emotion swirling in his blue orbs as he watched your figure bend and lift again. Whatever it was, it didn’t exactly scream proper from the way he allowed his gaze to drop to your chest and thighs not-so-subtly. You shot him a glare and he met you with a sneer before whirling around to bid farewell to your parents.

 When the door finally shuts, your parents let out a sigh of relief and turn to you.

 “Well, what did you think? Wasn’t their family darling? Oh and Touya was so easy on the eyes too, I don’t think you’ll have any problems getting along with each other,” Your mother babbles incessantly, completely oblivious to you gawking at her.

 Is she serious? He acted like a total douche to me all night!

 “I agree with your mother. He seems like a solid young man and I know for a fact he’ll make a great husband. Now, Enji gave me Touya’s number and I gave him yours, so you should expect a text from Touya soon. It’s just a formality to overcome, and in addition I want you to let him know we were glad to host him and his family.” Your dad raises his eyebrows expectantly, and you groan, slapping a hand to your face.

 “Okay sure, whatever.” Your dad pulls out his phone and you watch glumly as he texts the number to you.

 “I’ll text him later, ‘gotta talk to Ten first,” you mutter as you begin bounding up the stairs.

 “No Y/N, you’ll do it now. Otherwise, no talking to Tenko. You need to start putting your fiance first instead of any other man.”

 You grit your teeth to prevent screaming and make a show of spinning on your heel to face your dad. Smashing your thumbs against the screen, you tap out a curt ‘Hey, this is Y/N. I got your number from my dad, just wanted to say thanks for coming over tonight.’

 Oh yeah. Tenko better not have any plans tonight, ‘cuz boy is he gonna get an earful of this evening’s events.

 *********

 Ping

 Touya’s phone buzzes in his hand, and the screen lights up the dark interior of the limo. He squints at the notification, and after seeing your name he scoffs disbelievingly.

 “Is it her?” Fuyumi asks excitedly.

 “Jesus, keep your fucking voice down, are you trying to announce it to mom?” Touya hisses, and rolls his eyes at his sister’s pout.

 All his siblings start clamoring over their seatbelts and each other’s shoes as they try to grab his phone to read the message he received, and it's all Touya can do to curse and ward them off by waving an inflamed arm towards their outreached grubby hands (thankfully Fuyumi easily distinguished his flames with a flick of her wrist, with a rather annoyed look on her face).

 By the time the Todorokis reach their house it's late and everyone stumbles inside, eager for warmth and a good shower. 

 But not Touya. 

 As soon as the limo is parked he slips off the driveway and trudges off the stone path to his own destination, quickly shooting his friend a text.

 “Touya?” he hears his brother calling to him from the lit up path of the driveway. “You comin’ or what?”

 “No, I’ll be back in a bit. Just tell them I went to sleep early or something, and don’t let anyone in my room while I’m gone,” Touya mutters.

 Natsuo wrinkles his nose and stuffs his hands in his pockets, countering the defensive look the latter was giving.

 “...bring me back a cig?”

 “Hell no, go the fuck inside, its freezing out here.” Touya snickers, and both boys laugh before heading off in their own ways.

 It takes Touya approximately 15 minutes to slink in and out of the shadows to reach the abandoned bar that resides outside the main city. He kicks a broken beer bottle out of the entrance and checks in the dark for a lack of presence before reaching behind the bar counter and fishing around the platform for-

 Bingo

 He omits a tiny blue spark out of his index finger as he slides into a barstool and lights the cigarette. Taking a long drag of the substance, he tilts his head back and closes his eyes as he exhales the fumes into the empty darkness.

 “Goddamn, just ‘cuz you’re immune to fire doesn’t mean we all are Touya,” a suave voice emerges from behind the counter.

 Not so empty after all, then.

 A dim light switches on and Touya squints to locate the source of the familiar sound. Red fills his vision as his friend’s wings spread, and he zooms in on the roguishly handsome face belonging to Keigo Takami.

 AKA Hawks.

 The blond makes an obnoxious show of coughing and waving the smoke away, and Touya merely takes another long puff just to blow it into Keigo’s face again.

 “So, how’d it go?” He asks, using his wings to wave the offensive fumes away from his pretty face.

 Touya shrugs and folds his arms on the counter, letting his head nestle on the cool granite. He closes his eyes, mentally preparing himself for the onslaught of questions that was bound to come his way any minute.

 “Oh come on, don’t give me that bull, man. She can’t have been that bad right?”

“Her parents work for the HC. Maybe you should marry her instead,” Dabi shoots his friend a dark look and Keigo raises his hands in a guilty gesture. It was no secret that aside from their incognito vandalism and delinquency, the winged boy had plans to become a great hero at the heart of the HC itself.

 “Yeah well, regardless of who seals the deal, either way that’s another good, ah, network for me to know.” He snickers and Touya lazily thrusts a flaming hand at his head, which Keigo easily dodges.

 “This is serious man. I don’t wanna be some fucking homebody and raise a bunch of little shits along with having some bitch up my ass all the time.”

 “Is she hot at least?” Keigo presses, and Touya feels his eye twitch as his patience wears thinner by each word coming out of his mouth.

 “The fuck’s that got to do with any-? I mean, she was alright I guess, not too hard on the eyes…” he thinks for a moment before admitting, “she had sexy thighs, that's for sure. And an okay body overall.”

 Keigo whoops and claps Touya on the back, both of them grinning like madmen now.

 “That’s what I’m talking about, see now you’re getting the idea.”

 “And what’s that?” Touya turns to him fully now, intrigued as to how this could be for his benefit.

 “Look, you said she’s not too bad right? So that basically means you got full ownership of some hot chick, and you get to have full access to any records or information you want if she’s joined to the hip with some HC pawns.” The avian’s gold eyes flash and narrow as he thinks it over more.

 “This is a win win for you either way, and hey, if you make the missus your little bitch then maybe I get to reap some rewards too, huh?” He elbows Touya playfully.

 “Yeah...yeah that’s not a bad way of looking at it now that you mention it,” Keigo can practically see the gears turning in his friend’s head as he whips out his own phone.

 “What was her name again by the way? I just wanna see my dear sister-in-laws’ thighs myself,” He sneers as Touya quirks up the corners of his lip.

 “F/N? F/N L/N I think. God, she even texted me like, 10 minutes after we left. So fucking desperate,” Touya chuckles as he shows Keigo the message you sent.

 The blond’s wings ruffle behind him as he glances at Touya’s phone before thumbing through his own, checking each social media platform for any of your accounts. After a couple of seconds his eyes widen and he positively leers at the screen before shoving the device in the latter’s face.

 “Holy shit, I know this girl! Dude, you do too, we had like three classes with her before. I’m pretty sure she runs around with Rumi too. She’s uber smart, you had me thinking she’s some bimbo bitch, man. Oh, and she’s friends with Tenko by the way, just a lil’ heads up.”

 At the mention of the scrawny boy’s name, Touya snatches the phone from Keigo’s fingers and holds it mere inches away from his eyes so he could scan every part of you.

 “Tenko? Tenko Shimura? No fucking way, that guy’s a total tool. The hell is she doing hanging out with him?”

 “No idea, but I mean I’ve seen her hanging out with some other girls in the general department, so it’s not like she only knows him. Why, you’re not getting all protective and hubby-like on her already, right?” Keigo says slyly, thoroughly drinking in the way Touya’s eyes darken and his jaw clenches at such a blasphemic notion. It was so much fun to rile him up and not have to deal with the aftermath of his brash actions.

 “Fuck no. I just don’t want to be associated with a bitch who hangs around with pussies all day.”

 “Mm, yeah, I don’t think I could fuck with you either if he became some kind of sister-wife to you.”

 ********

Winter started to seep into spring, the transition being made evident by the arrival of cherry blossom trees blooming across the campus. New clothes were bought, markers and highlighters upgraded to reflect the new bright outside weather, and the students themselves were giddy to see each other after their winter break.

 You donned your white school uniform and fixed your tie in the mirror, opting to leave your hair down for the first day back.

 Ping

 Your phone’s screen lit up from the bed, and you grabbed it while slinging your bag over your shoulder.

 Ten-ten: I’m outside, bring me a bagel if you can. Dad was being an asshole so I skipped breakfast

 8:20: Gotcha, I’ll be out in 5

 Thundering downstairs, you absentmindedly noted your parents’ absence as usual, your pre-made breakfast on the table (courtesy of the MIA mother and father).

 Making a quick scan as to what you could quickly scarf down and what you could bring for Tenko, you decided to drink a glass of orange juice and bring a yogurt for yourself, as well as a large cinnamon bagel and a banana for him.

 Opening your front door always brought in the multicolored rays of the horizon that was one of your sole motivations of waking up early. You weren’t disappointed as you stepped onto your porch and breathed in the crisp morning air, the sakura leaves falling softly onto the ground. Pink and purple stripes fanned across the sky, the trees gently swaying with the breeze. At the end of your driveway stood your lanky best friend, his sickly green and grey skin standing out almost offensively against the beautiful morning scene. His long, spindly fingers raised up and wiggled slightly in a poor imitation of a wave as he saw you coming towards him. His school uniform looked a tad bit too big on his thin, frail bones that were scarcely covered by stretched out, scratched-beyond-belief skin. His indicolite hair fell across his face in scraggly waves, effectively covering his vermillion, beady eyes.

 You had never been so comforted by anyone else’s sight before.

 As you reached him, you tossed him the large bagel and he helped your overbearing food load by taking the banana stem from your teeth and holding it in his own large hands, one pinky outstretched.

 “You ready to go back?” You asked as you both began walking towards your school, which was a mere 15 minutes away from your house.

 “Hell no,” he scoffed before tearing a large chunk out of the bagel. “Mmfh, thanks for the bagel-”

 “-don’t talk with your mouth full-”

 “-but nah, I’m not ready for Vlad King’s excessive droning about HC paperwork. ``Stuff's a bore honestly, I wanna take more actual work studies time out.”

 “Oh yeah, you were saying earlier that your dad was gonna let you work with him at his business, right?”

 “Yeah he did. But, to be honest, I don’t really know what's worse- Vlad’s lectures or my dads’.”

 You swat his arm with a disapproving look as he laughs at your disdain.

 “Ten, he loves you okay?” You begin softly as you furrow your brows and look at the ground in contemplation. “He just...doesn’t know how to show you. He’s just scared you’ll end up like your grandm-”

 “Yeah okay, okay, I get it!” He yelps uncomfortably. Hearing any praise or defense for his father always put him in a tough spot since he didn’t want to accept the very hard fact that his dad did in fact love him-even if it was shown in weird ways.

 The two of you eventually reached the grand school, the front blue and golden themes coming into view as you rounded the corner and walked through the gates of the campus. 

 It was a nice sight to see everyone again; kids younger and older than you laughing and shoving friends around, students sitting on the school walls, and teachers lounging around the classes with the occasional “Get to class!”

 Tenko and you walk through the halls, navigating the way to your new classes and assessing each other’s schedules when you hear, “Hey, Y/N!”

 You turn and see some of your other friends, Rumi Mirko, Moe Kamiji, and Yu Takeyama approaching you with grins on their faces.

 Mirko waves her own peach colored schedule in her hand as she says, “Alright L/N, hand it over- I need to see which hunks you got in your classes.”

 You smirk before giving your own witty reply. “Apart from you? I think the bar’s been set too high, hun.”

 You playfully tug one of her ears and she squeals before chasing you in circles around your small group. Your jerky running causes Kamiji to bump into Tenko’s slender frame, and he lets out a little “oof!” before wincing and rubbing his sore arm.

 “Ohmygod, I’m so sorry Tenko!”

 “No worries, it’s cool.”

 “Hey, Tenko, I wanna see your schedule for a sec’,” Takeyama says slyly, fluttering her lashes at him before snatching his paper. “‘Gotta see if I got lucky this semester to finally have such a cutie like you in one of my classes,” She feigns a swoon at the poor boy, his face growing a violent shade of red as he commences his hemming and hawing. 

 “No she’s actually right though! I wanna see which classes I have to put in extra effort in not to fail if I’m ogling at this absolute sex god for the entirety of the period,” Mirko stops chasing you long enough to peer over Takeyama’s shoulder at his paper, and Tenko finally gives in his self restraint in a moment of vigorous neck-scratching relief.

 You shake your head in disbelief before absentmindedly pulling his hand away from his suffering neck, and Tenko doesn’t make a move to stop you.

 “Okay, enough already, leave this poor ‘sex god’ alone, your guys’s cleavage is gonna send him into cardiac arrest alone without the horny dialogue.” You say exasperatedly, and the victim himself flashes you a grateful look out of the corner of his eye.

 All three girls give you both nasty grins before making a fake show of ripping open each other's shirt buttons and feeling their sides up with lewd moans.

 Just to play along and to spare Tenko’s sputtering and massively sweating self the embarrassment, you cover his eyes with a hand and shoot the girls a dirty yet humorous look.

 “Alright then, miss high and mighty, were you lucky enough to have your homeroom with Cupid over here?” Mirko asks, Kamiji and Takeyama nodding eagerly behind her.

 “I was, actually. Did you get anyone worth the look?” You say, beaming at a very sweaty Tenko.

 “No,” She pouted, her large ears dropping visibly. “But I really wish I could’ve gotten…” and she trails off as her focus narrows on something behind her, her nose twitching in excitement as her face morphs into a sultry expression. You, along with everyone else, turn to see what captured Mirko’s attention.

 “Speak of the devil,” she mutters, nudging you and the other entranced girls.

 And there he is in all his glory. One of the school’s most notorious playboys, Hawks himself-he spots your little reunion, and saunters his way past the sea of kids who part their way to make room for his highness. His blond hair glows in the early morning light, reflecting the golden and brown streaks that embed themselves through his locks. His teeth gleam a blinding white as he smiles at Mirko, coming up behind her (to her utter satisfaction).

 But it's not Hawks that makes your heart pound.

 It's his black haired buddy that you became betrothed to not too long ago that makes the butterflies in your stomach come alive again.

 He has a bored, brooding look on his face as him and Hawks approach your group. His hands are in his pockets and his body language is so sluggish and lazy that you’d think he has a million other places to be at 8:45 in the morning. In fact, the only indication you get that he sees you is when his icy eyes flit over to yours or rather, your body, and he raises an unimpressed eyebrow.

 I wonder if his family knows he dyes his hair at school? Or, when does he actually have the time to do that?

You snap your focus away from him, saving yourself the embarrassment of gawking at him before looking at the spectacle Hawks and Mirko were proudly showing off.

 He circled his arms around her shoulders and neck, resting his head against her soft skin. She giggles and swats his other straying hand away from underneath her skirt while the rest of you roll your eyes in disgust as Mirko croons, “I didn’t hear back from you for a while, you had me worried for a moment there hot stuff.”

 Hawks’s velvety words cut through the air like butter, his voice dropping a few octaves when he chuckles into her neck.

 “Sorry about that babe, ‘was training pretty hard for some time, got distracted and all that. But you’re up for next weekend, yeah?”

 It’s enough to placate the eager bunny and make you and Tenko gag internally for the meantime. “Mmm, only if you call me tonight,” she nuzzles into his hair. It was no secret (evidently) that the two were fucking, his smooth voice and sauve personality miraculously calming the eccentric and bold girl down. You didn’t come in contact with Hawks a lot, but you did unfortunately hear about his stamina from your girlfriend and see the way he undressed other girls in the hallways solely with his eyes enough to know that he wasn’t someone you wanted to spend your heart and time on.

 Which is why you did a double take when you realized his honey colored orbs settled on you.

 “L/N, right? How’ve you been?” His lids were lowered, the corners of his lips pulled up.

 You stutter a moment before answering lamely, “Uh, I-I’ve been good, thanks.”

 But it seems like he was more than overjoyed with your response from the way his smile widened and he lifted his head from Rumi’s neck to see you more clearly.

 “Yeah? Make any new friends over the break? Maybe got yourself a little boyfriend?” Hawks turns his gaze ever so slightly to his left, and you follow his eyes as they also land on Touya.

 You swallow thickly as you feel heat crawl up your neck to your face, your palms feeling slick as you register his meaning.

 He knows.

 And Tenko knows it too, from the way he side-eyes you concernedly, but staying silent (probably for his own sake, which was valid). Your “boyfriend” snarls quietly at Hawks, his balled fists turning a bright blue as they begin to heat up, much to the instigator’s amusement.  Touya never makes eye contact with you throughout the whole exchange, though.

 “Whaaatttt?” Kamiiji, Mirko, and Takeyama squeal obnoxiously, evidently intrigued at the notion of you being involved with a mystery man. “No fucking way, who is it?”

 “Well-he- I mean, my parents kinda set us up…” You stammer mortified, caught between telling the truth or not. It was obvious Touya hadn’t told anyone apart from his closest friend, otherwise Rumi would have for sure found out through Hawks with Touya’s permission.

 You wish you didn’t feel your heart drop a little at the thought of Touya so obviously wanting to keep your relationship with him under wraps. Were you really so embarrassing to be associated with?

 But you’re saved from your internal battle when Tenko pipes up at his own expense.

 Thank god.

 “It doesn’t matter, it's not like they’re married or whatever-”

 Yet. At least it's part of the truth.

 “-come on Y/N, we should head to class,” Tenko looks at you meaningfully, and wanting to head out of the limelight before-

 “Ahh, Shimura! Almost didn’t notice you there, buddy. You’re so quiet, it's easy to forget you’re there, y’know?” Hawks says gleefully as he throws an arm around the anxious boy’s boney shoulders and flashes a knowing smile at Touya, who mirrors Hawks’ saccharin expression.

 Tenko refuses to rise to the backhanded comment, opting to nervously scratch his neck and you quickly pinch your fingers to avoid reaching out and pushing the ravaging hand away and nodding his head weakly. 

 Touya comes on his opposite side, also wrapping a patched arm around Tenko’s other side so that the poor victim is trapped between the two bloodthirsty boys. They start steering him away from the group, and you stand there, trying to decide to butt in or join the oblivious girls who start making their way to class, chattering amongst themselves.

 Your dad’s words come back to you.

 You need to start putting your fiance before other men, Y/N.

 Fine.

 This is going to be killing two birds with one stone anyways. You technically were going to be putting Touya first by letting him know what you did or didn’t like. The start of your rocky relationship had to have foundations on some form of do’s and don'ts for either of you, right?

 And so, taking a deep breath, you march a couple meters up to the three boys, hearing sickening phrases of “grease-stain”, and “worthless little piece of shit, since when did you talk to girls?”, gently take an empty space of your friend’s shoulder that isn’t preoccupied by either tan or patched arm, and pull him around so that he’s facing you.

 Unfortunately, you didn’t think to account for the other two who would no doubt keep an iron-grip on Tenko, so you’re left holding onto him while Touya and Hawks are staring disbelievingly and amused at you respectively.

 “Tenko and I have to go to class,” you say quietly yet firmly as you ignore the spindly boy’s gaping at your audacity. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call him a grease-stain, or anything otherwise offensive.”

 You continue, mustering the last of your bravery as you finally address your fiance, or whatever the hell he was to you at this moment.

 “Look, Touya, it’s obvious Hawks knows, and I told Tenko too. I won’t tell anyone else, though, if you’re not comfortable with it. But I want you to please start respecting my friends, and in return me as well if we’re gonna be engaged.” It’s so hard to maintain eye contact with him while his blown-wide, furious blue oceans are burning holes into your face.

 “You little bitch,” Touya starts on you to your utter dismay, but Hawks hold an arm out to prevent him from advancing on you any further. Even Tenko moves slightly in front of you to shield you from harm, a move that doesn’t go unnoticed, but rather, adds to Touya’s irate state.

 In fact, if he didn’t realize, or didn't want to acknowledge your kinsmanship with Tenko, he certainly had to now.

 Because not only does Tenko move in front of you, but the second Touya falters he takes the opportunity to propel you forward, covering almost 3 feet’s worth of a distance in one stride as he pushes you away from both men and down the hall, blindly following the signs to land the two of you in your designated homeroom. It all happens so suddenly with your surroundings flashing by you from Tenko’s sheer speed that you almost get whiplash as he continues to push you through the entrance of the class, and right into the first empty seat he sees towards the back of the room.

 He pants slightly for a minute, staring down at your seated form intensely before sitting in the empty seat right in front of you. As he pulls in the chair, you finally speak in a mix of frustration and gratitude.

 “Ten, I had it covered! You didn’t have to do that, Hawks had him too, it wasn’t like he was gonna-”

 “No, you don’t understand Y/N. They’re messed up in the head, they would do something fucked up, and the worst part is they wouldn’t even care if it was in the open. Hell, you’re his-”

 He whips his head around before whispering the rest to you.

 “-his fiance, and look how he reacted! He’s dangerous Y/N, you need to be more careful-”

 “Tenko, I’m not gonna be scared of the dude I’m engaged to,” you roll your eyes. “Okay sure, he’s a complete asshole to you and me, but he’s got too much to lose to actually do something real.”

 But the rattled boy wasn’t convinced as he shook his head at your naivety. It wouldn’t do to tell you about all the times they used their quirk on him, having years of training before he did, essentially rendering him useless to fight back or stand up for himself. He didn’t think you’d believe him if he told you that merely a week ago they got in contact with some friends involved with the Yakuza to beat him into a pulp on his way home from school, simply because it made them laugh, it made them happy. And he certainly didn’t want you to have any fights with your beloved fiance because of the way they would push him down onto the gravel behind school after quirk training sessions, use their feathers and fire to burn and rip his clothes apart, and heat up the bigger rocks on the ground until they were burning coals as vermillion feathers aided in throwing the small missiles at him. He would come home in burns, bruises, and cuts that were easy to excuse from the similar treatment he got from his father.

 That’s one of the only good things about his father, in hindsight. He built up Tenko’s immunity to these things, simply teaching him that these were the ways of life. You either eat, or get eaten.

 So no, it wouldn’t do well to tell Y/N any of these things.

 The bell rang, pulling you both from your back-and-forth arguing into a silent state along with the rest of the class. Your teacher, Vlad King, enters the room and almost fills up the doorway as he makes his way to the blackboard.

 “Good morning class. I hope you all had a relaxing winter break-but not too relaxing, as I expect you all should’ve reviewed last semester’s notes.” He looks pointedly around the room, the class filled with a mixture of scoffs, laughter, and groans.

 You and Tenko share an exhausted smile and simultaneously roll your eyes at your teacher’s academic reach.

 “But, there is one announcement I’d like to make before we start today’s lesson. Due to some parents feeling as though their kids aren’t receiving enough variety in terms of quirk training and the business side, along with the logistics of the hero world, me and a few other teachers have agreed to switching out some students after a period of time to experience the other classes, and the materials that go along with them.”

 “So, because of this change, we will be receiving some new students in our class today, as well as taking some out. But fear not! You will still have the same lunches as your friends and be able to see them in between classes.” He walks over to the door while talking, and you raise your eyebrows at Tenko. He shrugs as well, similarly clueless as to what your teacher meant.

 But you needn’t be confused any longer, because when he turns the door handle and opens the door, a slew of students trickled in.

 And much to your utter horror, Hawks and Touya saunter in as well.

 Your eyes widen and instinctively you slouch in your seat trying to make yourself unnoticeable and smaller. You see Tenko stiffen as well, the tips of his ears turning bright red.

 The scratching commences, too, and you quickly kick a leg out to meet the side of his chair to deter him from it.

 From the front of the classroom, all the students that were switching into your room are lined up, ready to introduce themselves.

 They all go, one by one, and as meaningless names float in and out of your attention, you risk a look at the two who had you practically shaking in your seat.

 You wished you hadn’t.

 Thing One and Thing Two were looking straight at you, your slouching proving to be unfruitful. Thing One was smugly looking at you, taking his sweet time for his eyes to note your hair, clothes, demeanor, and lingering in some places that were less than appropriate. Thing Two was glaring at you, gaze narrowed as his hands were stuffed in his pockets and by no doubt did you think he had taken your words from earlier with appreciation.

 It was too early. You didn’t want to hear what they had to say about your little speech so soon, especially when you saw how Touya took your words as an insult rather than an attempt to understand you and improve your relationship with him.

 Finally, it was their turn to introduce themselves to the class.

 “Hey, guys. You can just call me Hawks, no need for formalities,” the blond shrugs casually, seeing Vald King’s unimpressed expression and giving him a charming smile. You hear a couple of girls fake screaming his name as he introduces himself, and Hawks flashes a round of winks and finger guns at his fangirls, much to your disgust.

 “The name’s Dabi,” and your attention is turned to him once again. His voice is gruff, yet clear, and as charming of an aura Hawks gave off with the noises of various swoons, your fiance’s introduction prompts nothing but a deadly silent classroom, the occasional paper-turning and small murmurs echoing throughout the room.

 Tenko turns slightly in his seat to you and gives you another meaningful look. You both knew what each other were thinking.

 That’s right, he goes by the name Dabi here. I shouldn’t risk calling him by his real name around others, he might get upset at the informality.

 The rest of the students chime in with their names, and finally your teacher claps his hands, gathering your attention back to him.

 “Alright everyone, now that you all know the new students, say goodbye to your transitioning classmates and wish them luck in their new classes. Hajime, Setsuna, Tenko, and Kai, please pack your belongings and report to class 3-A.”

 You whip your head around in horror at Tenko who has gone stock still. The boy behind you, Setsuna, starts packing his things and grumbling under his breath. Tenko slowly begins to put his binders and pencils in his bag, not having the courage to look at your helpless expression.

 You feel like you were being thrown to the dogs, a piece of meat ready to be torn apart and ripped to shreds.

 Vlad King notices Tenko’s dawdling, and barks out “Hurry it up Shimura, we don’t have all day and these students need seats!”

 At this, both Hawks and Dabi’s heads turn to the both of you, and if they hadn’t noticed the disposition of you both, they damn well did now. You see Dabi’s eyes trail to something behind you and the corners of his mouth quirk up a bit.

 Setsuna gets up from his seat behind yours, and passes to the front of the class along with the rest of the stragglers.

 Oh, fuck. Please don’t let them sit here, please please ple-

 But it seems that you had previous karma to atone for, because the moment you start praying, both boys start making their way towards you. You shrink even lower in your seat, wishing desperately that you had brought a hoodie to wear to at least cover your face from this torture.

 It was only when Tenko finally packed his things and stood up at the side of his seat in front of you that Dabi and Hawks stopped stalking towards the seats that sandwiched you. He blocks their path and predatory looks, giving you a second’s reprieve of sheer panic. There is a tense moment where Dabi stands directly in front of Tenko, sizing him up and looking him down. You vaguely hear Ten murmur something to him, and Dabi lets out a loud scoff, elbowing the thin boy out of his way.

 You half rise out of your seat, naturally wanting to intervene as Tenko winces and grips his wounded side, but he quickly looks over his shoulder and shakes his head minutely, as if warning you to stay put. In the midst of you standing up however, Dabi moves forward, leaving you face to face with him.

 For the second time that day, you were in very close proximity to him, much to your discomfort. His blue eyes scorch your soul, much like the small blue flames emitting from the sides of his forearms. He narrows his gaze at you and stares at you until you relent and slowly sit back down. You can feel his eyes still on your form as he halfway circles around you and sits in the empty seat behind you. Hawks watches all of this in great amusement, and winks at you as he usurps Tenko’s seat in front of you.

 That’s just fucking great.

 Your fate is sealed as you look at the front of the room and watch Tenko give you a worried look as he’s ushered outside in the wave of kids exiting the room. The door slams shut as Vlad King closes it behind him, and the class is noticeably quieter as the lesson starts, some boring shit about submitting paperwork on time in an office setting and how to deal with setbacks.

 You try to focus as much as you can, but it's hard to ignore the way the back of your desk leg is being repeatedly slammed against any time Vlad King raises his voice, so the sound is muted to everyone but you. You grit your teeth and grip your pencil harder, almost breaking the lead when almost two minutes later you smell singed hair.

 And singed hair it was, all yours in fact as you frantically gather your hair in your hands and see burnt stands breaking off in your trembling fingers. In complete fury now, you whip around and harshly whisper, “Can you please stop-”

 “You got some fuckin’ nerve, you know that? Hangin’ out with that freak, and then defending him-especially in front of me. As if that’s not bad enough, you got the balls to ignore me when you owe me an apology.”

 You gape at him and even let out a little disbelieving laugh at his words. He said you had some nerve when he’s the one asking for an apology? 

 “Apologize for what, exactly? Stopping you from harassing Tenko and calling him offensive names?”

 His eyes widen mockingly, his eyebrows raised as the staples around his mouth tremble in his effort to not burst out laughing at your indignation.

 “I’m not harassing him. He should be glad we’re even approaching him, we’re like the closest things to friends he has. Why do you think he only hangs with you? It’s ‘cause you're the only braindead idiot in this school who doesn’t realize what a creep he is. And as for the ‘offensive names’, it can’t be offensive if it's true. He is a f-”

 Your ears start ringing as you feel like he’s pushing you past your breaking point. You can’t bear to hear any more slander against one of your closest friends, but as you try to whip around to face the front Dabi quickly catches onto one of your wrists, preventing you from turning away from him any more. His staples holding his scarred sin together dig into your flesh, and you quietly whimper in pain as you try to wrench your hand free.

 He simply tightens his grip and jerks you forward, causing you to practically fall out of your seat as he leans in close.

 “Don’t try to move away from me, Y/N. You were practically thrown at me, and that means you’ll do whatever the fuck I want, when I want.”

 You look up at him with glassy eyes, hair messily covering your face from the rough treatment. He looks almost thoughtful, the closest thing to a soft emotion you’ve seen from him yet as he brushes the hair from out of your face and behind your ear. 

 “And right now, your fiance wants you to stop hanging out with Shimura. Permanently.”

 **********

It’s less of a school bell and more like a trumpet from heaven when the indication of the class ending rings throughout the school. You had already packed your bag almost 10 minutes before the bell rang, not wanting to waste a second of the opportunity to make a mad dash away from Dabi.

 But you needn’t worry, because while you were practically sprinting down the halls looking for Tenko’s class, Dabi and Hawks were leisurely taking their sweet time packing up their bags, which were a little too light for anything deemed studious.

 Hawks chuckles after your form stumbled out of the classroom. “What’s gotten into her? Scared her off already?”

 “Something like that,” Dabi scoffs humourlessly. “ I just told her to stop fuckin’ around with Shimura.”

 “Man, and here I thought we were gonna take it easy on her for her first day.” Hawks tuts, shaking his head mockingly so that his blond locks fall handsomely around his face. “You’re breaking her in like a dog, Dabi.”

 But Dabi could care less about the timing of your inevitable breaking. He shoulders his bag and runs a hand through his hair, careful enough not to dislodge the black dye.

 They both walk out of the room to the next class, Hawks sending random girls an appreciative  up-down look that lead to eruptions of teasing giggles along the halls. “Regardless of how or when I break her-which, by the way, is gonna happen hard ‘cause there’s no fuckin’ way I’m putting up with her bitchy attitude-I’m not gonna let that walking mistake hang out with her anymore. He’s dead weight to anyone, and it’s so embarrassing to see how big of a boner he gets when she looks at him.”

 “That's the spirit,” Hawks clapped him on the back, steering him around the corner to their next class.

 “By the way man, you know we have lunch with her too, right?”

 **********

“And then he burned my hair!” You cry indignantly, folding your arms and leaning against the wall next to Tenko who was waiting in line for mediocre cafeteria food.

 “See? I told you, he’s dangerous. Him and Hawks both have a messed up sense of humor, and they have no shame in it either. You need to be more careful around them Y/N, don’t piss Dabi off especially, please.” He murmurs, looking at you through his bluish white bangs. You pick up a banana and plop it onto his green tray, causing him to whine about ‘NPC’s poisoning the crappy facility food’. Whatever that meant.

 “It’s healthy, you need it,” you shoot him a disapproving glare and pointedly lift one of his free spindly arms, gesturing to the lack of meat on his skin.

 “Okay mom,” he sneers as you pluck a Twinkie from his tray and transfer it to yours with an innocent smile as you do so.

 You both reach the end of the line and you wait as Tenko checks out. Looking around, it seems like the cafeteria is filled, so you elect to eat outside on one of the benches.

 “But, anyways,” you continue your conversation from earlier, “is that how they always are? How do you deal with it?”

 “Well, usually if you try to stay out of their way and just do as they do, both of ‘em will leave you alone.” He says uncomfortably, opening the courtyard doors for you with nine fingers as you quickly hold his tray to minimize the effort.

 “I usually try to think of them as the boss battle. If you avoid them, you’ll have a peaceful day. But if you try picking a fight with them, then you’ll take massive damage.” He shudders as flashbacks of burning rocks pelting his skin and ripped clothes enter his vision.

You scan the area looking for a quiet place to sit among the pink ground littered with cherry blossom petals, and find relief when you see Rumi, Takeyama and Kamiji scattered around a bench on the farthest side of the building. You call out for them and all three of them simultaneously turn and wave excitedly at you to come over.

 The grass feels lush and soft under your feet as the sakura petals swirl around you both as you cross the school grounds. You got lucky eating outside with this weather, and you internally want to make it a habit to come outside if the skies stay clear and blue like today’s.

 “Hey you two! Lucky you both are in our lunches too, huh?” Rumi smiles wide as Takeyama tosses you a cherry Ramune. Kamiji scooches over on top of the wooden table to make room for you to sit as Tenko takes a place on the seat itself.

 “Yeah, we didn’t have you all last year so I’m glad your schedules coincide with ours. How was class?” You press down on the little ball at the top of your Ramune lid and watch as it drops and fizzles in the substance. Tenko eyes it with interest, so you pass it his way and watch amusedly as he snaps open the top and practically chugs the whole thing in one go, precariously holding a finger out while he does so.

 “Ugh, don’t get me started. Midnight’s tits were bouncing in my face the whole time, I couldn’t keep my eyes on my paper.” Takeyama swats Rumi’s white ears as Kamiji bursts out laughing.

 “God, you’re so vile. But I can’t lie, she definitely improved her fit from last year.” Yuu says with a snort.

 “She’s such a badass, I’d totally ask her hand in marriage if I wasn’t getting saddled with-” But you freeze mid-sentence, face heating up as you catch your mistake.

 Tenko chokes on the drink, the girls squealing in disgust as Ramune spews out of his nostrils. You stammer, trying to cover up your tracks but there’s no need to as the focal point of the conversation turns to something behind you.

 “Oh my god, what are they doing here?” Kamiji whispers in awe.

 You whip your head around, and for the third time that day, your heart sinks to your ass.

 **********

 “Where is she, anyways? I don’t see her in here,” Dabi tries to ask disinterestedly as he casually sweeps his eyes around the crowded hall.

 “Ahhh, the pining begins, I see. Don’t worry, Rumi has the same lunch with us, so my best guess is she’s with her.” Hawks chomps on a piece of chicken, somehow managing not to spill any teriyaki sauce on his jacket.

 “Shut up birdbrain, I’m not pining. I just wanna make sure she’s not embarrassing me any more than she already has,” Dabi drones, cuffing the blond upside his head.

 “Question: how is she embarrassing you if no one knows you two are engaged?” His red wings flutter with glee as he catches Dabi giving him a dark look, opting not to answer.

 “You’re not answering my ques-tion”, Hawks sings, thoroughly basking in the catching Dabi’s ulterior motives.

 “And I’m not gonna answer either. Just tell me where she sits, idiot.” Dabi snaps, getting antsier by the second. 

 “Alright, alright, cool your head, matchstick. Rumi usually sits outside, so let’s check there. But hurry up ‘cause I’m hungry” Hawks whines as they make their way to the outside doors.

 They too are greeted with the same colors of pink sakura and bright well-kept grass, along with clear blue skies. But all Dabi sees is red when his gaze finally looks around and sees you with your friends...including Tenko Shimura.

 Hawks sees you too, and whistles as he glances back at Dabi’s face. If looks could kill, you’d be a burning pile of ash right now.

 “I swear to fucking god, I’m gonna kill them both.” Dabi growls as he begins to stalk towards your group. And of course, his friend joins in too, if not to just watch the episode that will unfold, but rather to actually prevent Dabi from causing any lasting damage...at least, on school property, that is.

 At the sound of your animated laughter and voice, the inky black mess of hair snaps up.

 He doesn’t like the way his heart clenches when the sight of you registers.

 Your laugh is a mix of soft giggles that crescendos into crazed wheezes that are accompanied by breathless snorts.

 It sounds so fucking ugly and obnoxious.

 He wants to hear more of it.

 Your hands wave around wildly as you animate your story with various gestures, sometimes throwing your arms out in the air and then bringing them close together to emphasize something else.

 Who the hell uses hand gestures?

 What do your hands feel like? Are they soft, or rough? Are they bigger or smaller than his? 

 What would they feel like if they caressed his skin? If they slapped him?

 Dabi is 20 feet away, and you still haven’t noticed him stalking towards you yet.

 Your head is thrown back now, hair shaking as you screech with laughter, your face scrunched up in laughter.

 He should’ve burned the rest of your hair, too.

 What would the material feel like through his fingers if he yanked the strands? If he caressed them slowly, in the dark?

 Why the fuck am I thinking about that?

 Your laughter has stopped now, the air eerily quiet. Dabi makes straight eye contact with you as he sees you've finally noticed him, as he watches Rumi whisper something to the group.

 He sees Tenko look panic-stricken, fumbling around his lunch to pack up and no doubt get the hell out of there.

 But not you, though.

 You just stare at him like he’s a wild animal, like you don’t know why he’s coming towards you so fast and with such purpose.

 He’s glad your eyes are on him. Property should know who it’s attention should be on, and who to cater to.

 He just wishes your eyes weren’t filled with so much fear. It’s making his heart squeeze and it feels weird. He doesn’t like it.

 “Hey Rumi. Yuu, Moe, how are you ladies doing?” He hears Hawk’s smooth voice flow into the air and join in with the falling of the soft tree petals as well.

 “Hey Hawks,” they drawl, no doubt excited to be blessed with his presence.

 Only you and Tenko stay quiet, the latter looking uncomfortably at his feet while you simply stare at Dabi.

 “I see you ladies are all enjoying the weather tod-”

 “-What the fuck are you doing here?” Dabi rudely interrupts the would-be smooth transition into conversation, but at the moment he doesn't care. He wants to know why the hell you so obviously ignored what he said earlier, and where the fuck you found the balls to blatanlty piss him off.

 But you stay silent, and stare at him further, eyes widening marginally like a deer in headlights.

 His heavy presence brings the feeling of death, the onslaught of dread, and it invades the group’s senses like the plague. His flashing arctic eyes scream murder, his balled hands reflect nothing but danger, and his set-mouth indicates that anything that comes out of it will end in vicious tears and a broken body.

 It contrasts so weirdly with his counterpart, who has a kilowatt smile that stretches from one ear to the other, his teeth gleaming so blindingly similar to the sun that it was another reason you couldn’t keep eye contact with him for too long. His hands were stuffed in his jacket pockets, showing no sign of lashing out and causing strife. The yellow sky rays bounced off his back, making him glow with heavenly golden light like an angel, and his eyes....oh lord, his honey colored hues swam with mischief; untold secrets ladeled into his ears in the dead of the night when he would lie side to side with multiple women of all shapes, colors, and sizes.

 But either way, regardless of the mismatched auras of the two, they both brought chaos and hell in their own ways, subtle or not.

 “Uhhh, ladies, why don’t I treat you to some of the school’s finest soba?” Hawks chuckles and scratches the back of his head before offering a hand to Rumi. “It seems like Dabi here needs to have a conversation with Y/N in private.”

 Rumi takes his hand and offers her own to Kamiji and Takeyama, who all pull each other up and look at you curiously. They’re smart enough not to ask openly, though. No sense in making things more awkward than they already are.

 Tenko tries to subtly get up as well, but is stopped when Dabi snarls, “You stay there. You and I are gonna have a conversation as well, fucktard.” He looks directly at you as he hurls the insult at the gangly boy, who flinches as if the words were knives.

You nap out of your horrified reverie.

 “Uhhh, well, we’ll see you around, I guess.” Kamiji calls from over her shoulder at you, her face sympathetic as Hawks’s arm circles around her shoulders and pulls her closer, whispering something in her ear that makes her blush.

 “Tenko, you can leave. Whatever patchwork here has to say has nothing to do with you. It’s between us, as my fiance.” You deadpan and return his ice-cold stare.

 The poor boy looks between his tormentor and saviour, conflicted as to what he should do. While Dabi’s arms and legs are starting to alight, you remain calm as ever perched on the table as if the petals littered on the ground weren’t silently catching fire.

 “If you get off the ground, I promise you won’t leave here with all your limbs intact.” The flame user says lowly, his voice catching on the gravely rasp of his threatening words.

 “Tenko. Please leave.” You say with finality, crossing your arms.

 A tense moment passes between all three of you, Tenko sweating bullets. He slowly starts to build his limbs up to a stand, his height matching Dabi’s yet somehow still cowering over the striking look he was receiving from him. He hesitates for a moment before sticking a cautious leg out towards where the other four departed people went, as if he were testing the waters.

 Dabi copies you and merely stares him down.

 His expression is unreadable as Tenko moves another leg out, and another as his body starts functioning properly and jerkily walks away from the two of you. Miraculously, Dabi is letting him, not seeming too keen on fulfilling his past promise of detaching his anatomy in favor of getting to you now.

 And then there was one. 

 You both look away from Tenko’s disappearing figure and finally at each other. 

 You still don’t say anything.

 He starts slowly circling around the table towards you, keeping his malicious eyes on you and your body the whole time. But regardless of the feeling of dread that courses through your veins as he draws nearer, you refuse to kowtow to this overgrown-spoiled-rotten eldest child. He was just another man, another blob of superior prejudice that was in your way of being happy in your career and in your life in general.

 One more step and he’s finally in your face now, a mere foott away from your sitting form. Your eye level is with his chest as he stands before you, tilting his head as his eyes rake your figure up and down. Your skin crawls and you look away, not wanting to react to his offensive gaze when he suddenly lurches forward. You can’t help as your indifferent demeanor cracks as you flinch when both his hands settle on your knees.

 He leans down, a few inches away from you when he speaks.

 “Are you deaf as well as stupid, you quirkless cunt?” He breathes into your face. His hands warm up ever so slightly on your knees, and you can’t help but think with a flash of paranoia how easily and quietly he burned your precious hair not even two hours ago. 

 You try to placate him by talking calmly, a brutal contrast in the way your heart was pounding in your tightening chest.

 “I don’t know what you mean, Touya. If you’re upset about something, we can talk about it without you trying to intimidate me.” Placing your hands on his atop your knees, you gently attempt to move him off but only succeed in him gripping you tighter. He wrenches your knees apart and you gasp as he slides himself in between your legs.

 “Oh, you know exactly what I mean. Don’t play coy with me, I told you clearly not to hang around with that greasy freak. Or do I need to give you a permanent reminder, huh?”

 He grasps your chin and shakes your head roughly as he presses himself further into you, hips gently rocking back and forth into the confines of your skirt.

 It’s hard to keep up a calm facade when his clothed erection is feeling up the outline of your panties.

 You release a frustrated cry and try to buck him off of you, but that only ends up pushing even further against him, much to your displeasure.

 “Fucking let go! Let go of me you disgusting asshole!” Punching and kicking does absolutely nothing to deter him, he only laughs at your pathetic defense as he grabs a stray hand in its mission to slap him square across the face and slams it down behind you on the table. He fails to stop the other hand though, as it ducks from underneath his chin and gives him a mean uppercut.

 He takes it maddeningly gracefully, though, as he finally catches the offensive hand and also smashes it down on the wood, emitting a pained wail from you.

 Both of you pant for a couple of seconds, tears of pain and anger threatening to spill over your lashes and reflex tears in his amused ones.

 “Do I have your attention now? Or do you want me to bruise your legs too?” He slides closer to your ear and his hot breath tickles your lobe as he whispers darkly, “I got a couple ideas in mind on how I can do that.”

 Your eyes widen and you try to jerk violently out of his hold. The patched hands holding onto your wrists heat up significantly, and you wail as your skin simmers and bubbles.

 “Please stop, Touya. It hurts,” you sob as he moves back to your face again, his body hovering your overs as he leans in further and hips stilling in their perverse movements, only pressing against your clothed mound at a stand-still now.

 “You didn’t answer me. Why the fuck,” his cooled palms flared back to life again and you painstakingly stifle a whimper, “are you hanging out with Shimura again?”

 “I-I was just having lunch with him! It wasn’t like we were meeting up outside of school or anything,” you plead with him, completely abandoning your passive facade. At the end of the day, you were quirkless and he wasn’t. Which meant you weren’t stupid or cowardly, but you were just human- you didn’t want to piss him off further by givng shitty answers and then getting burned.

 You try shifting to evade the not-so-subtle bulge in his pants but he holds you steadfast. He leers at you, and you turn your head to avoid the manic expression on his face. It was just your bad luck that no one else was around, the rest of the students and teachers heading back inside for their next class.

 “Aww what, you’ll take Skin ‘n’ Bones’ dick, but you can’t handle a little teasing from mine? Do I scare you that bad, princess?”

 Your bottom lip quivers as you bear his filthy words, your seared hands shaking in pathetic attempts to quiet any pained noise.

 He moves his head in such a way that his tilted frame comes a few millimeters away from your trembling smooth lips, and you look up at him with scrunched eyebrows in a plea for mercy.

 “Or, has little miss perfect never had a cock before? Never taken a thick, pierced dick up her tight little virgin pussy?” He groans as he rubs his erection up and down your mound, your skirt shifted in the tussle in such a way that it offers him a snatch of open skin that he takes with relish.

 You gasp and bite your lip and he thrusts gently into you, looking at your fearful face for the truth.

 “Stop-stop being gross Touya. I haven’t done anything like that with him, not that you should care who I fuck with. And for the record, like I said before, I was just having lunch with my friends, not having a goddamn date with any of them, including Tenko. And I don’t know who you think you are telling me who I can or can’t hang out with,” you try to sneer as you finally wrench a hand away from his grip and manage to push him back some with a shaky arm against his toned shoulder.

 “We’re not married yet, and Tenko has never done anything perverted or twisted like you that I would have to stay away from him. In fact, if he were my fiance then he’d act like a real one, tenfold than you ever could.”

 You don’t realize how big of a mistake you made when Dabi stills his pressing hips and releases your other wrist, which you snatch in your other hand and cradle the bright red flesh.

 He backs away a step or two, to your utter astonishment. He looks at you blankly and cocks his head at your unsure self. You have no idea what you said that could have caused such a change in demeanor, weren’t you just dishing back at him what he was giving you?

 “You really think he’s that great, huh? Honestly, I shouldn’t even be surprised you do, a quirkless uptight bitch like you goes perfectly with that waste of space.”

 “He’s not-” you begin to argue but are cut off when he spins on the heel of his black combat boot and starts walking away from you, only to call out over his shoulder, “If that’s the case sweetheart, I can’t wait for you to see how great and perfect he looks when his skin is burnt to a crisp and his body’s nothing more than ash and soot.”

 The blood drains from your face as you realize what you’ve done. You’ve made the target on Tenko’s back even bigger by trying to defend him. There’s no doubt now that if he was trying to evade Dabi and Hawks’ brutal treatment, they’d never let him breathe in peace now.

 You’d lose your best friend, and he’d never forgive you.

 Pride be damned.

 “Wait!” you cry out as you stumble off shaking legs and chase after him. His arms are thrown behind his back in an easy stretch, the movement making his stapled and scarred limbs seem even more menacing than ever before. 

 “Touya, please, don’t hurt him, he didn’t do anything to you!”

 But he clicks his tongue and continues to stroll past you in the same direction your group had fled mere minutes before.

 “Too late dollface, I can’t have my little fiance bitch thinking some fuckwad is better than me, can I?” He pouts and gives you an innocent mocking smile, knowing you were breaking slowly at each word that came out of his mouth.

 “You should be glad I’m giving him any sort of attention anyways, like I said before he’s a nobody-he never uses his quirk anyways, he might as well be called a quirkless little fuck just like you! Hah! No wonder you two get along so well!”

 Tripping over your own feet, you try to keep up with his long strides and sway his mission to either kill Tenko or make his life even more hell than it was before.

 “No, no! That’s not true, please, Touya, he’s already so miserable, please leave him alone, I’ll do anything!” You practically shriek as you both finally reach the school doors and his hand grasps the handle.

 But he stops. Miraculously, he holds the door handle without turning it, and looks demeaningly at you.

 You try hard not to shrink back too much when he leans to your eye level, his hands on his knees as he says sickeningly sweetly, “Anything? You’ll do anything to save that sorry excuse of a bastard? Anything to make me not burn his ass down to hell?”

 It's hard to mask the loud gulp you make, and his grin stretches so wide his staples along the corners of his mouth move along as well.

 “Y-yes, anything. Please just stop hurting with him or messing with him at all. He’s not the one who pissed you off, I am.” You admit your defeat and hang your head low, peeking up at him between your lashes to judge his reaction.

 His cerulean eyes scrutinize you, his nose lifted in the air as he mockingly taps his chin in fake thought.

 “Hmm...well, I suppose you could start by not eating lunch with him in the first place. I don’t know how you stomach anything anyways, he reeks of a decaying body.” He smirks, but you dig your nails into your palms so as to not rise to the bait.

 Anything.

 You need to start putting your fiance before other men, Y/N.

 After a moment of silence that ensured you really weren’t going to lash out at him, he continues, this time stepping forward until he has you backed up into the adjacent brick wall in the little hidden alley besides the doors.

 “And,” his saccharine words penetrate your dizzy head as his arm stretches out towards you, and for the third time that day you were essentially pinned verbally and physically as his hand toys with the hem of your collar, “from now on you’ll be eating with me and Hawks too if he’s around. You’re also gonna stop being such a teasing little prude and let me touch any part of you without backing away or saying any bitchy comments. It’s your duty as a good little wife anyways, right Y/N?” 

 You squeeze your eyes shut as you feel one hand make its way to circle around your neck in a snug noose and the other slip up your shirt, fingers punctuated with cold little stitches spreading across the expanse of your stomach, causing goosebumps to erupt across your skin.

 “Come on,” He whispers in his gravelly voice, leaning into the crook of your neck, “where’s that little attitude now, huh?”

 For Tenko. This is all only for Tenko.

 “Okay Touya. I’ll do it. Just...please, please give him a break.” You muster up the last of your courage to face him, and you finally feel a single tear treacherously escape the confines of your eye and slide down your face. You feel humiliated, having put up such false pretenses of being cool, calm and collected when he first approached you and now...now you were an emotional mess. In just a few sentences and unwanted physical contact, he had you right where he wanted.

 And the worst part was, you both knew you couldn’t even tell anyone. If you told Tenko, he’d immediately reprimand you and try to brave it by hanging out with you just so you didn’t have to endure the plight he himself was always in. You couldn’t confide in any of your girlfriends, no doubt Hawks would somehow spin it with his honeyed words to make you seem like the crazy, overreacting one. Your parents were a no-go either, having been telling you from the start that they weren’t to hear any criticism of their perfect, levelheaded future son-in-law.

 You wonder how your parents would feel about their dear son-in-law licking the tears off your flushed cheeks with a condescending chuckle.

 “Oh come on doll, having lunch with me isn’t so bad now, is it?” He cooes at you with faux sympathy. He does nothing to hide the twitching muscle in his jaw that prevents him from bursting out laughing when you furiously brush the tears and his saliva off your face.

 No, I don’t want to have lunch with you, you sick freak. I want to see my friends and not feel my heart pounding up my throat when I’m with you.

 “No, it’s not bad,” you whisper dejectedly, hanging your head and waiting for his next move.

 “Attagirl,” he says lowly, one finger ghosting over the waistband of your pants before retreating out of your shirt and to his side. The other hand wrapped around your neck squeezes once, relishing in your panicked gasp and frantic scrabbling at the back of his hand before also coming down.

 He finally deems your disheveled state a good enough reason to stop tormenting you, and he backs away with a little smile on his face that does nothing to calm your nerves.

 Turning the corner and opening the doors, he doesn’t look at your pathetic shaking body sliding down the wall when he says, “I’d get to class if I were you. Wouldn’t want to get in trouble for hanging out with people you shouldn't be with in the first place.

 Something tells you he’s not referring to himself as the doors bang shut.

 **************

 8 New Messages

 Rumi: Hey girl, you okay? Dabi seemed kinda off, I wanted to ask you what happened but I figured you two needed space and Hawks said not to bother you abt it:/ Did you guys get into a fight?

 Yuu: Ummm since when did you and Dabi talk? And since when did he get mad at you? Text back ASAP!!!

 Moe: If you’re still alive, you def owe us an explanation, hello? What did that absolute hunk want from you? I didn’t even know you two knew each other!

 Ten-ten: Y/N please text me back as soon as possible

 Ten-ten: Are you okay? Did he hurt you?

 Ten-ten: What did he even want from you?

 Ten-ten: If you’re mad that I left, I’m so sorry, I just thought me being there wouldn’t be much help to you

 Ten-ten: Please tell me you’re okay

 2:10: I’m fine, just walk around the back and meet me by the gate when the bell rings. Keep your head down, too.

 **********

 Dabi doesn’t feel any shame jerking off in the bathroom.

 Hawks doesn’t feel embarrassed either, listening through Dabi’s grunts and shaky breaths as he recounts the entirety of what happened between you and him after the group left, babes hanging off Hawks’ arms.

“So, what, you two just boned and you told Shimura to piss off? That’s what got your dick hard as a diamond?” Hawks chuckles, folding his arms and leaning against the white tile wall.

 “Yeah,” Dabi grunts as his hand works vigorously up his shaft, his piercings clinking harmoniously at his ministrations, “But fuck, man, she felt so soft and hot down there. Her stomach was so smooth too, I couldn't keep my hands to mys-ahh-self.” He groans as he climaxes, watching his precious seed erupt and drop into the toilet below him. What a waste.

 He wishes it went into your mouth instead.

 “Her stomach?” Hawks’s avian eyes practically bulge out of his head as he roars with laughter, dodging weak blue flames aimed straight at his hair. “God, you sound like a virgin, man. Who the fuck gets turned on by a stomach?”

 “Shut the hell up you overgrown chicken. I don’t fucking know, okay? She just- argh, I don’t know, when I saw her from a distance I didn’t really think much of her but when I got all close up with her I felt like I was going crazy. I mean, my body started heating up more than normal and I just wanted to touch her.”

 The blond was quiet, continuing to listen to his friend’s rant as Dabi washed his hands and inspected his spiky hair in the dirty mirror.

 “And her attitude? My god, hearing every bitchy word come out of her mouth was worth the look on her face when I held her down. Priceless,” he chuckles, shaking his head as he begins tightening a loose stitch under his eyebag.

 “She smelled pretty fuckin’ good too, maybe thats what got me going in the first place. I just wanted to be closer to her, regardless of how she saw me. It was just so satisfying seeing her break down, and all because of me, yknow?”

 He finally finishes checking his reflection and picks up his bag from the ground, Hawks following pursuit as they make their way outside the bathroom. They were currently skipping their last class, Quirk Training because they could actually afford to. Their teacher knew that both of them surprisingly had the highest grades in the class and continuously kicked every other student into the dust, the rest of their peers not having the right quirks to even hope to make it to the two delinquent’s level of strength and skill. It wouldn’t hurt to skip a few times, they would just pick up right where they left off, pummeling every other kid aside until they made their way to the top again.

 Plus, with all the testosterone raging through Dabi’s blood after lunch, he decided it would be better to take all the energy out in more relieving ways in the bathroom rather than using the adrenaline to accidentally blast some poor chump’s face off in the heat of the moment, pun intended.

 Not that he would mind, don’t get him wrong. It would be pretty funny seeing the look of horror on everyone’s face when the smell of a burning body hit their nostrils. But it wasn’t worth a suspension, or worse, an earful from his dad.

 “Oh, and by the way, she’s gonna have lunch with us from now on. I told her if she didn’t want me beating Shimura into a pulp she was gonna stop eating with him and come join us instead.”

 At this, Hawks gives Dabi a smirk and says dryly, “How romantic of you. If you wanted her to spoon feed and baby you at lunch so you could have a boner the entire period, you should’ve just told her straight up.”

 Dabi opens his mouth to argue with half of his statement before he’s interrupted.

 “Where is Shimura by the way? Did you see him leave the locker room? Training’s done, he should be out any minute now, why don’t we pay him a little visit and relay the same message you gave your little bitch to him as well?”

 Both boys smirk at each other as they make their way down to the locker rooms. Unfortunately for Tenko and fortunately for the devious duo , all three of them shared the same last class of Quirk Training. The frail, quiet boy tried his best to stay out of their way, but he might as well have had a sign up on his head that said MAKE MY LIFE HELL, PLEASE from the way he scratched himself raw, earning occasional disgusted looks from girls and snickers from a majority of the guys. His hair was almost always unkempt and in his face, prompting Dabi to yank his overgrown bangs up and out of his face as he snarled and spat venom into his victim’s wincing expression. When they sparred, Dabi held absolutely nothing back as he relished in the difference in their fighting styles: Tenko with close combat techniques and Dabi excelling in long distance. It was a recipe for disaster on Tenko’s side, and almost a cruel joke to the flame user as he easily sent wave after wave of burning hot hellfire towards the yelping boy. It came to a point where Dabi would openly and very loudly question why Tenko would even try, why he would even attend this class when he was beaten in under a minute-not nearly enough time to utilize his quirk.

 Their teacher would scold Dabi very lightly, but the damage was done and doubt was already planted into everyone’s mind as the seeds of disdain germinated and grew into ponderings of, has he ever beaten anyone before? He’s always out of the ring so fast, I didn’t even understand what his quirk was. Is he failing, how is he even passing this class?

 Only you were the one who knew it was his lifelong dream of working in the Rescue and Search unit, his quirk of decaying proving to be so deadly and harmful that he never had the courage to use it against anyone, no matter how bad they had it out for him. He could never live with himself if he ever caused anyone permanent damage that could end up in paralyzation, or worse.

 But that was the difference between poor Tenko and Dabi. Only one of them acted out in an eat or be eaten way.

 Hawks was more subtle in his torment, having less of a grudge towards the sulking grey mass of limbs. Sure, it was amusing watching him squirm and flinch and hear him plead raspingly to move your feathers, please, they’re covering my nose I can’t bREATHE I CAN’T BREATHE PLEASE I’LL DIE-

 But unlike Dabi, he didn’t get that big of a high from drawing blood and whimpering. That was all for fun and jokes to indulge in Dabi’s selfish and ruthless desires, sure, but the real rush he got was from the overall power imbalance from everyone else he received. It was knowing that he was at the top of the food chain, that no one could surpass him, even his brooding patchwork friend who he considered to be beside him if anything, but not above him in any sense. Tenko was just another cog in the grand machine that reinforced that idea every time he wilted and withered under Hawks’ sickeningly sweet, fake smile.

 You can’t blame him, either. He never originally asked for any of the attention the school practically spoon-fed him with when he was younger. No, he didn’t seek out any of the multitudes of guys that asked him to hang out every other weekend at the beach or park, and he was always indifferent to the girls begging him to spend the night and exchange numbers on the regular. They were all idiots anyways, what did they know? Sex, fame, money, drugs, all that bullshit that every young adult craves. He was better than that, he had a goal, he had ulterior motives, but he soon began to realize that the mind-numbingly brain dead people who circled him like their god could very well improve his chances of achieving said goal.

 And so Hawks began to painstakingly take time out to meet some tools dudes at the beach or catch a movie with them, he started opening up to sluts and bimbos girls via their legs more often and eventually he became a name revered around school, a reputation told and passed around the halls in whispers that traveled through notes and texts exchanged throughout classes.

 It just so happened to be in his luck that he was able to one day put a face to another name that floated through the halls in his passing classes: Dabi.

 They had been paired up to sparr, both sets of ears alert and open when their teacher read aloud each other’s quirks. Fire and feathers, huh? What a joke.

 At least, that's what the both of them thought about each other until they actually started fighting.

 Columns of cobalt flames rained above and around Hawks, and he was surrounded mere seconds after the match started. But nevertheless, his feathers detected a breeze from an open air pocket through the wall of fire, and he used his great wings to propel him through the slim opening to safety.

 That was the first time Dabi had ever been bested by anyone before, having every single one of his limbs pinned down by multiple heavy feathers tearing through his clothes, and similarly, it was the first time Hawks had even been surrounded so quickly by anyone else either.

 Thus was the start of their begrudging comradeship, which quickly evolved into something akin to a friendship when less training commenced and more grunted words and short phrases thrown to each other formed into gruff sentences, and bitter rants about shitty parents, being surrounded by painfully stupid peers, and how everyone else but them two saw the world for what it really was: a playground where they could topple everyone else down and somehow still manage to win those same hearts over as they used them as stepping stones to their own advantages.

 Dabi’s lust for blood and pain went hand in hand with Hawk’s craving for power. It was disgusting how the school worshipped them, taking any instance of abuse from either of them with a grain of salt, having already submitted to their superior auras. They truly were stepping stones, eagerly ready and oblivious to be used.

 And Tenko was just that, another meek, fragile little stepping stone that seemed so easy to crack...but somehow, instead of shattering into hundreds of pieces, he managed to retain his brittle shape and morph into a thorn in Dabi’s side. When he would be shoved into lockers for seemingly hours on end with burning feathers taped over his mouth (courtesy of Hawks to supply some material) that accentuated the scars on the lower half of his face, he wouldn’t tattle to any head authority or teacher. When they would tear and burn his clothes off in the locker room after their training sessions and force him to walk home in sweaty gym clothes, Tenko never lifted a finger to decay a hand or turn a feather into dust. He would simply sulk off and try to remain invisible and out of their way. 

 It drove Dabi crazy; he wanted the translucent skinned boy to scream for his fucking life, he wanted to see him lash out and fight, he wanted him to squeal like the pig he was. He wanted more reasons to beat him down and feel an ounce of joy in himself that he never received elsewhere. Seeing people shake and cower before him gave him the same rush as any heavy drug would do-it was addicting, and left him craving for more. It reinforced the idea that he was better than anyone else, and if his dad wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction or assurance that there was a purpose to his miserable life, then he would have to relish in the emotions he felt within others, even if it meant at the expense of his peers.

 And although he would never admit it, it secretly was hilarious as fuck for Hawks to watch Dabi lose his mind slowly but surely over the most trivial of things, like Tenko’s lack of reaction to their abuse. He knew it only came from the neglect Dabi felt at home, Endeavor’s blatant disappointment embedded its manifestation in the eldest son’s whole being, even if he would always deny that's the case. The lack of direction and emotion Enji showed to his lost cause of a son caused Dabi to lash out in increasingly aggressive ways at school. It just proved that even though Dabi thought he was better than everyone else, he truly was just another sheep like the rest of these idiots milling around. The brooding, aloof face he put up at school wasn’t enough to fool the sharp-witted avian; he was just an average spoiled elitist brat that threw tantrums when he didn’t get what he wanted, how stupid could he be? He thought too much of what others thought, even if he sought validation through his parents, who gives a fuck? It’s just another useless miserable factor of his life to ponder on, in Hawks’ opinion.

 If you asked Dabi what he thought of Hawks, he would give you a similar answer but with different facets. Sure, it was nice to have another god of the school walk around by his side, enforcing their reputations, and yes, both of them connected on negligent parents... but Hawks gave in too much into materialistic things. Sex and popularity were deterrents from the real world, and Dabi would be damned if he were to follow pursuit. Hawks was slowly proving himself to also be another pawn in their life’s game of chess, but for the time being he knew that making friends with him was looking at the bigger picture if he wanted to make a name for himself, no matter how painful that process was at times. Why the fuck would he waste time going to parties just to socialize and bang a bunch of slutty whores when he could be proving himself to the yakuza? While Hawks would be schmoozing with some busty bimbo and playing beer pong on a Saturday, Dabi would be making his own types of friends in hidden alleyways and getting acquainted with shady figures like Kai Chisaki, a boy around their age with connections that ran around the city and underneath the city lines. The scarred boy was dedicated to his eventual goal to rid this rotten society of all the superficial heroes and scum, so naturally he hadn’t the need or want to indulge in his own selfish desires.

 Up until this point, that is.

 Which brings him and his winged partner-in-crime to now, waiting in the shadows outside the entrance to the locker room. Waiting for a certain spindly, greasy-haired freak to make his appearance so he could beat the shit out of him and release some still pent-up energy that was not relinquished in the bathroom.

 So that he could tell him to stay the fuck away from what rightfully belonged to him, for the first time in his life.

 He reached down to pick up some gravel, hand-picking the rocks that seemed the sharpest as he heated up his palm. Without saying a word, Hawks’ feathers floated towards Dabi’s hand, embedding their bristles between the rocks. 

 It took about 5 more minutes of aimlessly lounging against the wall and burning other various thrown-out papers scattered around the ground, until the man of the hour made his appearance.

 It was pathetic, really, the way the door slowly creaked open as his matted pigeon colored head peeked out, swiveling around to take his surroundings. The second his head turned right, his eyes widened as he saw the hellraisers, and Tenko frantically tried to retreat back inside and slam the door shut.

 Unfortunately, he couldn’t beat the too-fast quills that snatched him by the collar and practically threw him forward. He flailed his limbs, trying to regain his balance and flee his inevitable beating. The panic that rose in his throat grew exponentially as he was dragged further towards Hawks and Dabi, who was juggling burning blue rocks in his hand along with familiar red plumage.

 He knew the drill all too well, becoming dreadfully acquainted with the makeshift missiles over the years.

 “Hey, Shit-mura, catch!” Dabi lobbed a pierced feather at his bony abdomen, and Tenko flinched violently as a glowing blue pebble ricocheted off his body, hitting against a barely-fading bruise from a similar routine performed merely weeks ago.

 Albeit for a different reason, one that didn’t have to do with a not-so-lucky girl like you.

 Tenko fell backwards as a volley of feathers jabbed under the soles of his feet, and watched in horror as the perpetrators advanced towards him, Hawks with his wings so leisurely ruffling in the breeze with a laid-back smile on his face, hands tucked in his jacket pockets contrasting with the demonic grin etched on Dabi’s face as they leer down on him.

 “What do you want now?” The fallen boy barely mutters, not bothering to look up at them.

 “Don’t address me like that you little shit,” Dabi hisses, flames flaring up in his palms just to show off how much ammo was still burning and waiting to be used...all for him, of course.

 “Stop hanging out with Y/N. The next time I see you talking with her, or even looking in her direction I’ll burn your sorry ass alive. Though I doubt anyone would care, anyways.” He speaks curtly, and it kills him internally to almost admit how frustrated he is seeing you two cross paths, even after a sole day.

 Tenko raises his eyebrows, looking between Dabi and Hawks, who, for the meantime, doesn't feel a need to waste his breath on such a petty matter.

 “We’re just friends, that's all we are. If you’re so concerned about me getting in the way, I promise I won't-”

 “-You think I’m actually worried about losing you to her?” The inky head draws closer, his voice low and raspy as he laughs. “Let me tell you something, and listen to me very clearly, because the next time I repeat myself is the day I’ll fuck you both up- I don’t give a shit who wants her, or who doesn’t. I’m not concerned about losing her either, you know why?” He grabs the frayed collar of Tenko’s shirt, and the latter chokes as his air is squeezed out of his frail throat, hands frantically grabbling at the purple-scarred constraints.

 He can feel flecks of spit on his face, the hands around his neck heating up suffocatingly as Dabi nails the final lid in his coffin.

 “Because that little tease was practically sold to me, get it? I didn’t even want her in the first place, which essentially makes her nothing short of a playtoy for me to fuck and fuck with whenever the hell I want, without you in the picture. I don’t need some weepy moron like your sorry ass getting her all teary-eyed when her eyes should be on me and me only.”

 He releases the weakling’s throat, wishing it was your smooth one instead. He almost would’ve had a boner if Tenko’s big, gulping breaths were a little bit more feminine sounding, like yours.

 “Okay, okay, whatever man, I’ll do what I can to stay away from her. Just…” and his voice trailed off into a whisper, hoping he could muster any more sincerity in his words, “...please don’t break her heart, or be too rough with her.” The mere thought of you being bruised and banged up like he was made him gag.

 It was sickening how similar his words mirrored your own.

Dabi scoffs as Hawks finally decides to speak up, spreading his hands in a faux show of good gesture.

 “I gotta admit though, Shimura, you got good taste in girls. I’m almost impressed you managed to get a cute little thing like her to even touch you.” Tenko blanches, noting the way Dabi’s jaw clenches as the instigator’s mouth curves into a smirk, all of them knowing full well that the carefully chosen words were meant to rile the situation up even further.

 But after a tense moment of everyone glancing at each other, the patchwork figure relents and exhales through his nostrils, deciding to grant the mess of fallen limbs a rare chance of mercy.

 “Shut the fuck up bird brain. Let’s go, I don’t wanna hear my dad bitchin’ if I come home late again,” He kicks Hawk’s boot with his own and turns around towards the entrance of the school, not sparing Tomura a second glance. Hawks laughs handsomely and gives the rattled boy a mock salute and a fluff of his grand wings before trailing after his counterpart.

 Shimura finally lets out a shaky breath, slowly picking his scattered belongings off the ground, snapping his head back up frequently as if the two were bound to come back and mess with him further.

 While he was picking his remaining binders and gym clothes off the ground, unbeknownst to him, about 50 feet up and out the school Hawks was fishing an object out of his plush wings.

 “What’re you doing?” Dabi asks lazily as they walk the streets of Musutafu, kicking sake bottles out of the way.

 “Hol’ on-” Hawks grunts, yanking the object loose from his tight confines of his feathers before placing it in Dabi’s open palm.

 “Huh? The hell’s this?” He raises an eyebrow, gingerly holding up the beaten screen in front of his face.

 “That right there is extra material to hold against your little wifey. Seems like he had more pressing things on his mind rather than to check for all his belongings,” The quick-witted avian pats his elusive wings proudly, basking in the benefits his stealthy quirk allows him.

 And sure enough, as Dabi gleefully cackles with laughter at his good fortune, Tenko Shimura is desperately patting down his pockets, looking for his phone while you chatter on cluelessly next to him. 

 ****************

 “So? How was your first day?”

 “Did you see Y/N? I heard from some upperclassmen that you got classes with her.”

 “You should walk her home after school!”

 Touya is immediately bombarded with questions from his siblings the second he makes his presence known by slamming the front door shut.

 He growls under his breath at all the clammer around him, and he barks at them to shut the hell up before he burns the house down.

 It doesn’t faze the rest of them who are blessed with their ice quirks, and they continue to pester him until he spills the most meager, unsatisfactory answers to them.

 “Yeah, I had a class and lunch with her. Happy? Now seriously back off.”

 Fuyumi and Natuso cheer as Shoto gives a slight smile.

 He heads off into the dining table, munching on carb-infested snacks as he scrolls through Tenko’s phone.

 The messages between you and him are long, dating back years that he has to swipe for minutes before getting to the first words of your conversations.

 A majority of the speech bubbles hold nothing but dorky back and forth’s of new movies that came out, hanging out here and there, and school help. Sometimes he’d come across you asking for advice for your parents, or ranting about having to keep a frustratingly posh look in public, and he realizes surprisingly you two might have more in common than he thought.

 He hadn’t even bothered to look at most of Tenko’s messages, nothing holding too much leverage on potential blackmail or more fuel against him, but suddenly his thumbs stilled as his eyes rove over a conversation from a couple months ago.

 Y/N: Ugh, it’s just one of those days, y’know? Idk if its PMS but i’ve literally been watching porn for like 2 hours now

 Touya’s eyes widen and he brings the screen mere inches from his eyes, just to ensure he’s not imagining his good luck...as well as disbelief.

 The next messages however, grab his elation by the balls and twist them into a cloud of red-filled rage.

 11:57 pm: I could give you something better than porn if you want:)

 It takes all he has not to throw up his munchies on the table at the pure inexperience Tenko’s words so evidently hold.

 Can this bastard be more cringe?

 Apparently it didn’t matter to you, because not even a full minute later you had responded to past-Tenko.

 Y/N: Oh yeah, like what?

 Touya excuses himself from the table, ignoring Natsuo’s raised eyebrow directed at him from the kitchen.

 He stalks to his room, closing the door behind him and locking it for good measure. Thankfully the questionnaire was over the moment he walked in, and his parents were gone until the evening, so he was set for privacy. It’s not like anyone would willingly want to come into his room unannounced anyways, unless they were looking for a death wish.

 The gloomy black decor around his man-cave suited his mood well, only the dim light of his computer and phone providing him access to witness your whore antics.

 Picture after picture filled the conversation, lacy white lingerie and red silk complimenting your figure well, and his heart speeds up when he sees the slutty expression on your face.

 You were wearing makeup in some pictures, and completely bare-faced in others. Some photos didn’t do justice to your beauty with the naive angles you positioned yourself in, and others quite literally made him gape at your junk in the right places and slender bits along your silhouette.

 In his eyes, it was innocence at its finest. Your honesty at showing all parts of you was mouth watering to Touya, the way you didn’t hide any side of you in such an intimate exchange made him want to sink his teeth into your helpless being and never let go.

 It also made him want to melt Tenko’s skin off his very breakable bones.

 We’re just friends.

 Some friends they were, alright. A slut and a grade-A fuckin’ incel. How the hell did Shimura get a taste of you before he did? He’s your fiance for gods’ sake, that's his right and no one else’s.

 Honestly, he’s disappointed in you right now. For all that talk you gave him earlier today, he didn’t take you as some easy hoe that’d put out for such a creep like Tenko, with just a few sweet words thrown here and there along with some bad pickup lines.

 He crosses his arms behind his head and leans back into the plush mattress, frowning in thought. The sounds of his father banging open the door and his siblings chiming in to greet the old bastard float in and out of his ears as he thinks of what to do with you and Tenko.

 Obviously your guys’ friendship surpassed normal boundaries, regardless of what you both pleaded or believed. Just the fact that Touya fucking Todoroki, son of the Number Two hero, eldest child and heir to a powerful elite family lost first claim of his wife-to-be’s body to some...some withering degenerate is making his heels expel smoke.

 He’s not going to be second place again, not outside his own home too.

 There’s no doubt in his mind that if you truly are all bark and no bite, you’ll find a way to meet up with Tenko behind his back. The pictures he’s seen tonight just proves it's going to take something bigger than a copped feel and a verbal warning to pull you both apart, and Touya is more than ready to take on that challenge.

 A plan begins to form in his mind, one that ensures his fiance and the dirtbag will stay away from each other, even if he needs to push them to interact more initially. Even if he needs to make you desperate to reach out for someone, anyone who’ll come to your aid after he’s through twisting and welding your nerves together.

 Touya falls asleep with one hand in his pants, one hand holding his phone screen up showing your white lingerie.

 Tenko falls asleep for the first time in months without his bony hand down his sweats furiously working his shaft at those pictures you sent months ago. The cum that usually spills out and stains his abdomen is replaced with dread that embeds itself in the pit of his stomach. He knows either Hawks or Dabi has his phone, and he knows what he’s hiding in there isn’t something that would help his claim of being your friend.

 You send a message to Tenko before you sleep, telling him to wait for you in the adjacent empty hallway to the cafeteria after you finish lunch with Touya.

 *************

 “Where the hell were you yesterday? I tried calling and texting you!”

 You indignantly demand, making no effort to move out of Tenko’s way as he tries to gently brush past you to make room for himself on the sidewalk.

 “I, uh, lost my phone and forgot to tell you after school. Sorry.” He says lamely, and you squint your eyes and grip the straps of your backpack even tighter at his half-assed excuse.

 Begrudgingly shifting to accommodate him in the narrow walkway, you both begin to walk to school. The butterflies have risen from the grave of your stomach again, butterflies of dread and gross anticipation at meeting your inky-headed match.

 “Well, did you report it missing?” He scratches his neck softly and grunts in denial. You frown, thinking if it were you then you’d be throwing a racket at your missing phone. Guys are weird.

 “Okay...well, anyways, I texted you about meeting me outside the caf’ when the bell rings for class. I have a feeling Touya’s gonna be stingy about me staying put like the perfect, brainless doll he wants me to be, ugh. So just keep your head down as usual obviously, and I should be out in no time hopefully if I can manage to slip through the crowd. I’m thinking we meet up in the General Studies hall? It’s right there-”

 “-Wait, you texted me all this?” Tenko stops abruptly, red eyes wide with panic.

 You turn to face him, eyebrows raised at his composure. “I mean, yeah? I didn’t know you didn’t have your phone with you, so I’m just telling you now I guess. Why? Do you know if someone took it?”

 He hesitates, unsure of how to cover this up. He already knows either Dumb and/or Dumber has his phone, so no doubt if you truly did text him anything about your plan to meet up with him against Dabi’s specific instructions not to, one of them would already know by now. But he can’t tell you why your plan is now faulty and extremely dangerous.

 Because then he’d have to explain how they got his phone in the first place. One question would lead to another, and then he would have to spill about what they threatened him with, and you would somehow end up getting even more hurt if you found out what went on behind closed curtains.

 “Look,” He finally decides to speak, and rejoins you on your walk to campus, “I don’t want you putting yourself at risk to still hang around me at school if Dabi told you not to. He’s just gonna find out and get even more pissed. I’m used to it, but if you’re gonna be marrying that douche then it’s just gonna screw things up for you even more. We can just meet up after school like always and hang out at your place or something.”

 You pout at his proposition, annoyed that your oh-so-loving finance is weeding his way into your private life...more quickly than you’re comfortable with. Why should you have to sacrifice time away from one of your oldest friends just because of some overgrown, spoiled man-child?

 “Ten, you can’t let them dictate your life forever, okay? Like, I get it, they’re scary as hell and you were right-they’re not afraid to get physical. But it's only the first week of school back, are we really just gonna let them walk all over us? I’m not gonna be some stupid fucking bimbo thats gonna cower every time he flashes his fist at me.” You stamp the ground in frustration, and Tenko keeps quiet, growing more irritated by the second. You might now care about keeping your limbs intact, but he’s already as frail as can be. No sense in begging to get snapped like a twig just because of your suicidal intent.

 “So what exactly do you wanna do? I get how you feel, really I do, but Y/N they’re not talked about around school for no reason. I don’t know how else to explain this to you, no matter how much you want him to know how independent you are, he’s not gonna care.”

 Biting your lip in contemplation, you think on his words. He’s got a point, unfortunately. There’s not much you can actually do apart from run your mouth. Touya’s got the upper hand in every sense.

 But still. You’ll be damned if you wait for him to make the first move like a sitting duck.

 “Whatever,” you bite out. “We’ll just have to be smart about skirting around him. Just try to meet me in an empty hall outside the lunchroom if you can, and we’ll just make sure to stay out of open areas when we walk to class. No biggie. And of course we can still walk together home, right?” 

 “Yeah, sure,” he says, as you two near the school entrance.

 You try not to notice the delay in his answer as you walk through the gates.

 ***********

 Immediately when they spot you in the halls on the way to your homeroom, the trio of girls swarm and bombard you with questions...questions that you already answered with some half-assed, bullshit excuses about how Dabi needed help on homework.

 You guessed they weren’t as airheaded as they all let on.

 “It’s fine, its okay, it was just some stupid misunderstanding we had. We’re okay now, really,” you wave them off while Tenko worries his bottom lip in an attempt to subdue his itching.

 It takes some convincing for your concerned friends to finally leave with a warning of “If you hide anything from us, you’re getting your ass kicked!” and a casual laugh from you before you can head to class.

 “God, I don’t know how I’m supposed to hide the whole arranged marriage thing from them if they’re always gonna be so nosy. Especially when Tou-I mean, Dabi, isn’t exactly hiding his asshole-ness”.

 Tenko mutters in agreement to you, his head low as you both turn the corner into your classroom. He merely takes a step inside before looking up and hissing in panic, tripping backwards over his own feet.

 “Ten, what the hell?” You yelp, narrowly avoiding his skinny frame about to collide into you.

 “Shit, I forgot we changed rooms. And I’m not supposed to be seen with you, they already saw-!” He cowers at the side of the door, eyes wide with panic.

 And you realize too late that he’s right, that his sparse appearance in the doorframe must not have gone unnoticed by the dreaded duo already in class. You can see your seat from the window in the door, and an inky blob of black hair and blond locks not too far from your seat as well.

 “Oh god, fuck, just-just get to class before the bell rings, I’m sure they didn’t see you come in. But go, you’re gonna be late!” You swat him off and he dashes down the hall, throwing you a worried glance as he goes.

You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for whatever might happen if they indeed saw your figure with Tenko’s. Turning the handle with sweaty palms, you gulp and enter the room.

 “You were almost late, L/N! Let’s try to hurry it up next time and not idly stand outside the classroom with friends, shall we?” Vlad King barks from the front of the room, and you cringe as you internally wonder if the entire school was against you today.

 The room has quieted down significantly as your teacher starts to prepare the whiteboard for today’s lesson. You imitate Tenko’s earlier demeanor by keeping your head low and trying to avoid eye contact with everyone as you make your way to your seat.

 Except, that proves to be quite difficult as you pass by Hawks’ seat, a lean leg casually stretching in a mockery to make you trip. You try to step over it, but unbeknownst to you, a lone red feather darts under your feet as you take a step and lifts you up, causing you to lose your balance and fall drastically to the ground, the contents of your bag strewn across the floor.

 You can barely hear the scattered laughter filling the room, can hardly make out your teacher growling at you to take a seat and stop causing distractions, because the ringing in your ears drowns everything else out. The underside of your arms are prickling as you frantically adjust your skewen skirt and try to simultaneously pick up your displaced belongings. Your hands are shaking as they reach for a binder that slid under Dabi’s seat. 

 Bile rises to your throat as a studded black combat boot carefully places itself right on top of the binder. Your violently trembling hands pause midway to reaching for it, and you slowly raise your glassy eyes to meet your tormentor’s.

 You wish you didn’t.

 The way he looks down at your disheveled figure causes your heart to seize and create a giant lump in your throat. His piercing-decorated mouth is pulled back in a jeering grin, thoroughly enjoying the mess his friend created, just for both of their sick amusement.

 Your pleading look does nothing to deter his firm hold on your binder, and you grow increasingly panicked as you hear the lesson start.

 “Let go!” You whisper, eyebrows scrunched together, bottom lip trembling like a baby.

 “Mmmh. Only if you beg like a little bitch.” He doesn’t even look at you straight in the eyes as he murmurs in his gravelly voice, his purple patched hand lazily writing down a few scribbles here and there to take notes.

 It's cruel, almost. The bravado you held up in front of Tenko this morning is completely gone now, a mere facade to show you weren’t going to simply roll over on your back and show your stomach for Dabi. But it seems that’s exactly what he reduces you to, in just a manner of a few simple movements.

 Just like yesterday, when he had you pinned twice at lunch.

 Lunch.

 Oh god.

 You quickly shake your head from its treacherous wanderings, opting to focus on the imminent problem right now instead of combusting from future ones as well.

 “Please, Touya,” you say almost under your breath, leaning in painfully just to make sure your plea fell only on his ears only.

 His lowered lids rove over up and down your body in acknowledgement, letting them settle on your thighs clenched together, hands balled in your lap to prevent from ripping yours and his hair out.

 Leaning back further and lower into his seat, he keeps his lustful gaze trained on your wary, kneeling figure as he subtly starts to palm himself through his jeans. Your jaw drops at his audacity, your mind completely forgetting to try and snatch the binder from his hold as he lightly thrusts up into his open hand. You scuttle backwards in disgust, your face feeling like it's on fire as you do.

 But another trusty red feather slips underneath your skirt as you flail back, and grounds the flat side of its bristles against your clothed clit.

 It's all too much, your hyper awareness and sensitivity to the whole humiliating situation reaching its peak, and you gasp loudly as the scarlet plumage circles itself once around your clit once more and retreats back into its large red home.

 Dabi isn’t the only one palming himself now.

 Once again, the class attention has been brought back to you, pages stopping their movements mid-flip.

 “Y/N L/N, what is going on back there?” Your peeved teacher’s voice booms across the silent room.

 You flinch and try to speak but Dabi beats you to it.

 “She’s distracting me sir, I tried to give her back her binder but she wouldn’t take it for some reason.” He speaks monotony, a hint of feigned confusion so strategically accenting his words.

 “No, no, that’s not what-”

 “-It’s true Mr. King. I saw her get on her knees in front of Dabi while he was trying to take notes.” You’re interrupted again as Hawk’s smooth voice floats above yours, and your face burns with shame at his choice of words as your peers titter around you.

 “If these two men miss today’s notes because of your shenanigans, you will personally be in charge of catching them up and tutoring them on whatever need be.” And with that, he turns around and continues to write nonsense formulas on the board.

 The black binder that caused so much trouble is shoved towards you carelessly, papers slipping out onto the floor as it comes your way. The two demons share a knowing smirk at their fruitful teamwork.

 It’s not even nine in the morning yet, and you want to scream.

*****

It takes less than two minutes to gather everything off the floor and to slink yourself into your seat, cursing the placement of Dumb and Dumber in front and behind you. Brimming with rage, you clench your pen tightly as it skims back and forth across the page, making up for 10 minutes worth of missed notes.

 Not even a full beat of peace is passed before you feel a cool breath against your neck, and you slap a hand against your nape as goosebumps erupt across your skin.

 “So who came into the room with you before class, huh?”

 You honestly should’ve been more scared of his question, but you couldn’t even find the energy to turn around fully and refute his accusation. You merely exhale loudly through your nose, letting him know you were done talking in defense. He chuckles lowly and you can feel the vibrations from the rumble of his throat in such proximity to you.

 “Better keep your pretty little mouth shut, unless you really are into getting degraded by Vlad,” he leans forward, his mouth right next to your ears. You can’t stop the shiver that passes through your body as his tongue slips out to caress the shell of your lobe at the same time his hand reaches down and around your seat, just to pinch the flesh of your ass.

 You jump slightly at the onslaught of sensations and harshly bite your lip to prevent a yelp leaving your mouth. Clenching your pen tighter in your hands is the only thing you can do his touch wanders underneath your skirt, feeling the flesh of your thighs clench together again to ward off his offensive advances, elatedly letting his coarse fingers run in between your cheeks and dip into the crevice of your mound.

 The sound of your quiet whimpers and the sight of your rigid back is enough to send him over the edge.

 He suddenly digs his dull nails into your soft skin, and leans further towards you. You can feel his mouth press against the shell of your ear as he hisses.

 ¨I asked you a question you quirkless whore. Who the fuck came into the classroom before you? Was it that freak again?¨

 ¨L/N, can you answer the question up on the board please?¨ Your teacher´s voice rings out from the front of the room, and you and your bully both jump at the intrusion.

 The board in question has a jumble of words and numbers written on it, and in your frantic stupor none of it makes sense to you. But you know if you’r

e caught slacking off again, you might get written up.

 ¨Uh, l-let me check my notes really quick, sorry,” you mutter as you desperately flip through your notebook pages.

 ¨Actually sir, I think I can help Y/N out.¨ Unexpectedly, Hawkś buttery voice chimes in, much to your relief. He answers the question flawlessly, and even your teacher nods his head impressively.

 You might´ve even said a thank you to him if he hadn't turned his head at the side just for you to see him lick a long stripe up a certain feather, the corners of his lips turning up into a sickly sweet smile.

 You feel queasy.

 Dabiś fingers strategically resume their ministrations again to gain your attention as they trail down into the junction of your mound, lower and lower until the pads of his stitched fingers rest on top of your clothed clit.

 You jerk slightly and shoot a hand down underneath your desk to stop him from moving, but the second your palm wraps around his wrist his fingers press deeper against your nub.

 Fuck.

 You know what he wants, so you answer him just to end this torture.

 ¨I don't know who you saw walking with me, but if you're referring to Tenko, then he went to his class. Try not to make it so obvious that you´re jealous or insecure of him, it's pretty pathetic. I mean damn, you´re even starting to see visions of him around the school? Maybe you like him more than I do!¨ He scoffs under his breath but you can feel the temperature around you both rise up.

 Successfully managing to yank his paused hand away from you, you throw his wrist backwards toward him, savagely relishing in his stunned silence, no doubt.

 Without turning around, you end him on a good note.

 ¨Didn't realize you were into ‘weak nobodies’, Touya. Who's the freak now?¨ You don't personally believe such a vile notion, but you hope know itĺl be enough to shut his fragile ego up for now.

 It does.

 He doesn't touch or talk to you the rest of class, much to your satisfaction.

 You don't smell the burning of a certain someone's foot in youropen bag, all your hard work from notes to projects going up in literal tiny flames.

 ***********************

 The bell dings, and you waste no time shoving your binder into your bag, failing to notice little flecks of ashes billowing in the air when the belongings go into the scorched fabric. You yank both straps onto your shoulders and immediately start to get up, but are promptly stopped when two figures swarm you and force you back into your seat.

 ¨Where you runnin’ off to cutie? Don´t tell me you forgot to have lunch with your fiance?¨ Hawks shakes his head mockingly, tutting in disapproval.

 ¨Yeah, I mean, she obviously thinks I´m into her little boyfriend, so I guess I'll just have to sit with her to demonstrate how I'm into women.¨ Dabi sneers, towering over your seated figure.

 You blanch, regretting your outburst from earlier, knowing that he was going to make you pay for it.

 ***********

 Tenko slinks off into the courtyard to look for any possible signs of his phone around the same time Hawks and Dabi are leading you through the more deserted halls towards the cafeteria, their arms thrown over both sides of your shoulder, vile words and innuendos bordering on threats hissed into your ears.

 He knows it wouldn´t do any good for your safety if he went off trying to spot you amongst the crowds, and frankly, he didn't really want to. Especially not when he knew who you were probably with.

 Sitting with Miruko, Takeyama and Kamiji was a no-go, they would all be uncomfortable with his unsettling appearance there without you as everyone´s middleman. Maybe he could find Atsuhiro? Or even Iguchi? Surely he could find them and they could all converse about the latest game that came out, as they usually did.

 Somehow he manages to make his way into the crowded commons being invisible to most had its benefits sometimes, especially when being shoved forwards as if he's not there gets him forwards faster and looks around the massive room for the other two social outcasts.

 Lo and behold, he spots them towards the back of the mess hall, where most of the trash cans were placed.

 Typical.

 Iguchi unsurprisingly has his reptilian snout pressed into his console, his long talons clacking away at the buttons. It's a miracle he doesn’t rip the thing to shreds with how fast his fingers move. Atsuhiro is fiddling with his precious marbles on the stained table, shooting them at each other just to frantically put them back in their original place before they can fall off the table.

 Tenko clears his throat, moves his hood slightly off his head and makes his way to them.

 ¨Hey guys,¨ he mutters as he reaches their table. They both look up and squint at him, breaking out of their dazes as they try to register him. Feigning a roll of his eyes, Tenko brushes the wiry bangs away from his face so they can get a good look at him.

 ¨Aahh, Tenko Shimura! Our old friend, have a seat, have a seat!¨ Atsuhiro claps his hands loudly, and Tenko cringes as people from other tables turn around to glare at the commotion. He can understand why the brunette was an outcast like him- he talked weird, like he was from olden times, and he thought life was a grand play. Minor criticisms, but it was enough to be deemed offensive in their school, enough for his ass to be kicked all the way to the back of the cafeteria, marinating in the dumpster stenches.

 Quickly trying to avoid a bigger scene, the pale glaucous haired boy slides into a seat across from the two and nods at the lizard boy.

 ¨Iguchi,¨ He acknowledges, and the hybrid lifts his eyes for a second from the screen and curls his lips in his own greeting.

 ¨How´ve you been Shimura? Haven't seen you in a while, usually you´re hanging out with L/N, right?¨

 Tenko scratches his neck and feels skin pile up under his nails.

 ¨Yeah, she um...I think she wanted to sit with some of her own friends today.¨

 ¨I thought you two hung out with the same people-¨ ¨So what game´re you playing? Is that the one that just came out?¨ He interrupts Iguchi, trying to avert the conversation away from you. The less eyebrows raised, the safer you both would be.

 They talk about the latest games and consoles, grades and classes. It feels nice, honestly. Even if he's not as well known and presentable as you, he gets to bask in things he actually is passionate about. Not that you ignore his own hobbies, but it gets tiring after a while to talk about facials and hero work, girl stuff that he just never really understands. You act like a protector to him, and he appreciates it, he really does, but...sometimes it feels like he's more of a show dog, and not the cute kind. A kicked puppy-no, charity work is a more accurate representation of what he feels like when he sees the not-so-subtle sympathetic looks your friends throw at you when they think he's not looking.

 Tenko loves you a lot, and he knows you do too. But sometimes it's hard to see past that aged love when, as Iguchi basically stated, his friends are your friends.

 Funny thing is, he has no real friends apart from you.

Tenko loves you a lot, and he knows you know.

 It's been hard to remember that constant love when Dabi and Hawks have been making his life a living hell, especially now when they know you´re so protective of him.

 It´s hard to remember that love when you insist on putting the two of you in actual danger, just to walk down a stupid hallway together. 

 But he supposes he can't blame you all the way. He guesses maybe it's mommy issues from a younger age around the time he met you. It's the way he could cry into your shoulder after his father would beat him black and blue, it's the way you would rub his back soothingly and shush his cries, never really understanding why he was so upset in the first place but still doing your best to be there for him.

 His father had sent his sister away overseas to some private school to better her education, so he truly was alone with his batshit crazy family situation. You provided him with unrequited love from an early age on, you were his safe haven, his sanctuary of sorts. It was true, you really were the only one who understood why he acted the way he did and you accepted him for it.

 He supposes he should feel more grateful to you, but like how every child is supposed to fly the coop and become independent, you had unknowingly trimmed his already-deteriorating wings and tethered him back to your welcoming, warm embrace.

 You had ruined him

 Almost a half hour went by between the three boys, discussing a wide range of topics, and for the first time in a while, Tenko was actually comforted by another guys’ presence. He wasn't worrying about shielding his body from ammunition, or keeping his greasy bangs in front of his eyes so he wouldn't have to meet anyone´s judgemental gaze.

 ¨Hey man, you should come over one day. I got a couple of GTA discs we can try out, or COD if that's more your thing,¨ Iguchi offers, reaching his clawed hand out. ¨Why don't we all exchange numbers?¨

 ¨Y-yeah, that sounds great! Hold on, lemme get my ph-¨

 But his excitement was cut short, when his hand patted empty pockets.

 Oh.

 He almost forgot.

 ¨Uhm, sorry, I kinda lost my phone yesterday. Maybe you guys could just write your numbers down here or something,¨ And he fished around his bag for an empty paper, pushing it across the dirty table to them. They didn't seem to mind-they promptly wrote down their digits in chicken scratch writing.

 ¨Got any trash?¨ He stands up, plucking a few plastic wrappers off his seat and extending his courtesy to them. They wave him off and he shrugs, making his way behind them towards the giant dumpsters.

 The second he drops the scraps into the bin, some force shoves him face first into the reeking cesspool of school lunches. He grabs the edge of the bin in a split second, ignoring the slimy substances he feels underneath his palms and whips around for the source of the assault.

 All he sees behind him is a retreating figure, with blond locks swaying with every sauntered step he takes away from the frazzled target.

 His phone wasn't as far as he thought it was.

 In fact, if he had the balls to follow the winged boy back to his table, he would've surely discovered his beat up phone case held captive in Hawks´s open bag. He would´ve also seen both boys keeping a miserable girl sandwiched between them.

 Tenko would´ve seen all of that from a distance, but you were there in your own skin, fighting the urge to rip out a certain purple-burned aggravator´s staples, and preventing yourself from diving into your burned backpack, pulling out a nasty pair of scissors and giving a special birdbrain´s wings a well-needed cut.

 ¨Why so quiet sweetheart? Nothing bitchy to say now?¨ Dabi seethes in your ear as he busies a hand in pinching the soft flesh of your thighs, a 2.0 to your torment in the classroom.

 ¨No,¨ you gripe, trying to finish your spring rolls. A feather plucks the roll from midair as you lift it towards your mouth, and redirects it into its owner's mouth.

 ¨Mmm, Dabi, your bitch can cook right. You should've told me my sister-in-law was such a domestic homebody, I would´ve defended her from your evil clutches sooner,¨ Hawks chuckles with a mouth full of food. His arm is draped over your shoulders, fingers dangling oh-so-close to your chest. Shoving them off even in the hallway proved to be futile after they both used their respective quirks into silencing you every time a teacher walked by and you attempted to open your mouth in a plea of help.

 ¨I´m not his fucking bitch, you brainless pigeon,¨ and even though you know you can´t fully move with how close their proximity is, you still try and push them off.

 But Dabi is having none of it, igniting his fingers on your thighs as his counterpart cooes at your irate state. Ignoring your gasps and writhes, he doesn't give a moment to prep you as he fully shoves his hand down your panties, your skirt bunching up further up your legs when he does. 

 You give him a desperate look, and he merely gives you a sneer in retaliation.

 ¨Where did you learn to talk like that? That shit´s not gonna fly with me when I put a ring on it, bitch. If I hear you mouthing off like that again I'll personally make sure there's a better use for that slutty hole,¨ and at that his fingers start moving and heating up again, Hawk´s arm forearm tightening around you to prevent you from making a scene while the ravanette circles calloused digits around your wet nub.

 He leans closer to your ear, and the rings adorning his lips feel cold against your skin. On the other side of you, the blond is smiling knowingly down at you, brushing his thumb against your neck. 

 You jerk as Dabi breathes into your ear, ¨But something tells me you wouldn't mind that too much. I mean if you´re not exactly screaming for help right now then I guess you must want this as much as I do. Fucking whore.¨

 You shake visibly at the strength Hawks is using to counter your escape attempts, Dabi´s fingers tweaking your clit hard every time you jerk your body to the side.

 ¨No, no, what the hell? I don't want this, I don't want anyone to see me like this-!¨

 ¨Oh, is that what it is? Even so, I'm sure you remember our little talk the day before, right? About me laying off your friend, if you just take it like a good slut. Don´t think I haven´t forgotten about him, Y/N.¨

 And then you still. Because of all the emotions running through your frantic head right now, you keep Tenko above all the other bullshit. He doesn't deserve your share of hell, he's already gotten his fill.

 Red silk and lace cloud Touya´s mind.

 ¨We´re just friends¨.

 ¨That's a good girl,” your fiance whispers, kissing your outer ear and laving his tongue across the rim of it. You whine quietly and try to draw further into yourself-which is miraculously allowed by the blond as Dabi tugs you closer into his black shirt, his fingers down your skirt and teasing your slick entrance.

 The Hawks watches you shamelessly, playing with a stray feather between his hands as Dabi descends his mouth to your neck, nipping you lightly and then harder when you squirm.

 Your seating position is most unfortunate, the boys having picked an area that most teachers don't pass through on account of other delinquents settling in as well. No one would bother them here, just passing it off as PDA that the rest of them have no shame in showing either.

 ¨Oh! I haven't asked about your family yet. That's what good fiances do, right Keigo?¨ Dabi exclaims suddenly, lifting his head to give the amused blond a knowing look. Hawks hums in assent, eager to see how much more you could take of their special attention. 

 ¨So did your mom ask how her beloved son-in-law is doing? You told her all about our quality time together?¨ His other hand creeps beneath your shirt, your stomach muscles clenching painfully tight at his unwanted contact.

 ¨Did daddy ask how I’m treating his precious little girl?¨

 You bite your lip hard and squeeze your eyes shut as your bra is moved up, fingers trailing upwards towards your nipple. Hawks´ eyes are glinting as he watches in silence, his pupils dilated at the scene in front of him.

 ¨Or, actually, maybe save that nickname for me. I'd love to be the first to break it to him that his princess has a new daddy, a better one who broke her faster than he ever could.¨

 A sob builds up in your throat. There´s 15 minutes left of lunch.

 ¨Maybe after we get married, we can just crash at your place,¨ he hides his mouth behind your hair, but you and Hawks can hear his low gravelly voice as he murmurs, ¨So they can hear me fuck the living daylights out of their precious baby girl...make sure you´re loud too, ´wanna let them know you´re a woman now. A married woman who´s gonna slave away for her husband, down on her hands and knees like she's supposed to-

 Ding ding ding

 His phone goes off, pausing him from his vile monologue.

 You exhale in relief when he growls under his breath at the interruption, reaching for the offensive device.

 But instead of pressing the decline button after seeing the screen, his face goes slack and pales tremendously.

 His hands retreat from their perverse activities underneath your clothes, and you turn to him fully surprised now. You try to lean over to see the caller ID, but your less-than-pleased fiance actually shoves you off of him, right into Hawks (who thankfully catches you).

 You look up at him who seems equally bewildered, and then at Dabi who holds the phone to his ear.

 He gulps and clears his throat before he speaks.

 ¨Hello?¨ It still holds his raspy tone, but you can't detect his usual snarkiness.

 There´s a pause as he listens, and then he gets up from the table and walks away without so much as a second glance to the both of you.

 Hawks, being a guy who's too fast and too smart for his own good, already has an inkling as to who could emit such a reaction from the arsonist.

 A wandering feather that brushes against your leg jerks you out of your stupor, and you flinch away from the warm body that caught you.

 He laughs a real laugh this time, not one with any malice or with undertones of perverseness in it as you scuttle back to the other side of the short table. You glower at the floor as he rests his elbow on the table, cheek in his hand. He tilts his head at you, very birdlike and for a moment in his open eyes, you can understand why Mirko likes him so much.

 But fuck if he wasn´t a total scumbag on the inside.

 ¨Aw come on sweetheart, you know I don´t bite. We just wanna mess with ya´, it's cute seeing you get all nervous and shy. I gotta admit, it's a nice change from your, ah, colorful language.¨

 Your head whips up to face him, and you let out a short, humorless laugh at his audacity.

 ¨Mess with me? Hawks, you guys are fucking assaulting me. It's not funny or cute, and I know your little innocent act is complete bullshit. I know what you guys do to Tenko, and the fact that you don't even stop Tou- I mean, Dabi from it shows you´re just as bad as him!¨ You bang your fist on the table, acting out now since the worst one out of the duo is out of commission for the time being.

 But instead of narrowing his eyes and shooting feathers at you to shut you up, he merely smiles wider and shrugs in indifference, never taking his eyes off of you.

 It's hard not to gape at him. What kind of world was he living in, where none of this had any effect on him? All this-this bullying and torment was just fun jests for him.

 But you know it's less pure with your betrothed. You know with him, it's some fucked up power-play, a show of dominance that you want no part in.

 You can't help but toss a glance to where he was now, 20 feet away and speaking intensely into the speaker.

 ¨You know, if you stopped fighting him and just gave in it would be a lot easier for you. He likes putting you down and getting a reaction out of you.¨

You don't tear your gaze away from Dabi, so you don't see Hawks lean in and take advantage of your distracted focus.

 ¨He gets off on it.¨

 His velvety voice rumbles right next to you, and you whip around and slap a hand over your ear as a shiver simultaneously passes through your body. He doesn't move, however, but merely leans back and throws an arm over the back of your seat, grinning like a madman.

 ¨See, this is exactly why I´m not giving in yet. What the fuck is wrong with you both? How could you think something so fucked up is funny? No wonder you both give Tenko hell-¨

You clamp a hand over your mouth, forgetting in your rage not to mention the taboo name. Your eyes search gold ones for any sign of similar hate that you find in cerulean orbs, but there is none.

 All he does is raise an eyebrow and strain his smile a little.

 ¨Between you and me, sweet thing, it really is in your best interest not to mention Shimura´s name around Dabi. I don't really know why he's got it out for that dude, but it doesn't really help Dabi calm down when his wife-to-be is prancing hand-in-hand around school with him.¨ Your lip curls in discontentment, and you feign a scowl at Hawks´ words.

 ¨Why does he even care? It shouldn't matter who I hang out with, it's not like I'm cheating on Dabi or anything. Besides, he doesn't even like me, he just wants some girl he can ruin.¨

 A few moments of silence pass, and then he speaks. What he says makes your heart seize up, and the butterflies kick in again, much to your disappointment.

 ¨Is that what you think? Man, you both have a long way to go, then.¨ You want to ask what he means, but you´re unfortunately interrupted when a very unwanted lanky figure plops next to you, jostling you to move over.

 ¨ ´Just had something to take care of,¨ is all Dabi offers as he starts packing up his stuff from the table.

 ¨Who was it? Was that your dad?¨ Hawks presses.

 Dabi´s eye twitches.

 ¨Yeah. ‘Was calling about some stupid assignment I failed, giving me shit about it.¨

 ¨He usually doesn't call you at school,¨ is followed by a raised gold eyebrow.

 ¨I know. I was actually almost excited for once-¨ Dabi laughs bitterly, and you just listen with your head down, utterly confused. What was the deal between him and his dad?

 And just in time, the bell for dismissal rings.

 Thank god.

 You silently pack your belongings as well, hoping that this time you could slip out and actually see Tenko for a couple of minutes if he was waiting for you like you told him to, but as usual, your beloved fiance intervened.

 ¨You´re always rushing off when the bell rings, doll. Where are you going in such a hurry? I hope our company didn´t make you uncomfortable or anything,¨ he snakes a hand around your waist and pulls you in tight, leering at you.

 ¨I just don't want you guys getting me late for class,¨ you mutter, avoiding his lecherous gaze.

 ¨You sure no one's waiting for you out there? Maybe we could both go and say hi to whoever´s taking up all your time-¨

 ¨Uh, no no! That's okay, I really was just making sure I wasn't late. We can go to class together though, no worries.¨ You quickly grab onto his jacket sleeve and look at him with big eyes and a little smile in a shameless, desperate attempt to deter an inevitable bloodbath.

 He raises his eyebrows at your volume and the way you clutch at him while simultaneously quelling the blush that creeps onto his face and the smoke that was comically coming out of his ears. If his fiance was throwing herself at him for the first time, then who was he to reject her?

 ¨Alright, let's go then,¨ he steers you out towards the entrance of the cafeteria, and you force your legs from grounding themselves and running in the opposite direction of where he was taking you. 

 You feel him squeeze you tighter, and you raise your head at him, startled to find him already looking you over with a strangely soft expression. It wasn't anything deemed romantic for sure, but it was a lot different than his usual sneers and scowls. Your stomach does somersaults at this new expression that was privy for your eyes only, his piercing blue eyes rendering you speechless.

 He looks so much better when his mouth is closed, and his eyes do the talking instead.

 However, Dabi does in fact open his mouth, not to spew venom, but to say something that makes your heart beat even faster.

 ¨Yḱnow, all jokes aside, you weren't too annoying at lunch. Maybe it's ´cause you kept your fat mouth shut with a shit ton of food, but you were pretty tolerable.¨ you quietly scoff at his backhanded compliment as you both exit the hall, Hawks trailing a couple feet behind you, both sides of his shoulders clutched by fangirls who seemingly spawned out of nowhere.

 ¨I´d say the same to you if you weren't feeling me up every five seconds and mouthing off like a-¨

¨-But, yeah, thanks for actually sitting with me. I really would like it if we did this more often,¨ he murmurs so quietly that you´d think he was talking to himself. He isn’t looking at you anymore, his gaze squinted as he navigates through the crowded and loud hallway. 

 You want to point out that technically he wasn't really giving you a choice of where to sit when he threatened you like earlier, but something in you tells you to stay quiet as he maneuveres your body around so that no other student would bump into you by accident.

 A sense of whiplash comes over you at that moment. Only a mere couple of minutes before he was calling you his bitch and terrorizing you, but now with that soft gleam in his eyes and the confession he was giving you, it feels like it was only you two at the moment regardless of the massive crowd swarming around.

 If Hawks was a little closer within earshot, you have a feeling that Dabi would be acting very differently, no doubt. But nevertheless, you swallow your apprehension and acknowledge his different aura.

 ¨Sure, Touya. We can sit together more often...as long as you lay off the handsy part, we haven't gotten there yet. We've barely been able to have decent conversations, but I´ll try if you try too.¨ While you say that, you subtly try to look around for Tenko but find it hard as Dabi maintains eye contact with you and pulls you along the school. You glumly give up as you both turn the corner to where the classes were.

 He ignores everything else you say, solely cherry picking where you said his real name, again. Dabi didn't particularly care for all the other bullshit you uttered, but he shuddered when you stroked a thumb against his hand. He was glad that their plus one had opted to not be in their faces at the moment, because it was nice for once to say something relatively normal to you. Because in the end, he might be a menace but he wasn't delusional. He really could see you as his wife, not just on her hands and knees like he had purred about earlier, but actually as someone who could offer him a new, better life than the one he had at his own home.

 He saw it in the way you gazed so softly at Tenko, saw it in the way your voice lilted higher and in the way you softly pull his scratching hand away from his marred skin

 The way your lips puckered as your mouth invited another bite of food made his chest ache with a weird feeling he couldn't quite place a stitched finger on. The scowl you gave him and Hawks both when you sensed they were about to fuck with you more made him want you in a way that he had never wanted anyone so close before. He wanted to be the reason your scowl would eventually turn into a smile, but for the meantime he knew he couldn't refrain from seeing fear and panic in your eyes. You were cute, with a body and a smart mouth to match. Dabi guessed that you were also taken aback by his sudden intimate gestures, and he couldn't help himself to hope that you had a slight inkling of what your presence was slowly starting to do to him.

 But if you thought that you had newfound leverage on him, or thought that he was wrapped around your finger by a small sentence he said, then you were more stupid than he was givng you credit for.

 Because the second you bit your lip and looked away after touching his hand lightly, he turned his head back and made eye contact with Hawks, giving him a knowing look.

 Hawks´ wings flex as he gives a cheshire grin to his counterpart, letting him know he already knew what to do.

 ¨Sorry girls, ´gotta head to class, can´t let my grades fall. I´ll catch you two later, yeah?¨

 He is met with simpering ¨yeah, sure!¨´s and ¨of course, text me though!¨ as they sashay away.

 ¨Definitely,¨ He chuckles, running a hand through his floppy hair.

 As if he would be caught dead texting Tweedledum and Tweedledee.

 But anyways, back to business.

 He cracks his knuckles and stretches above his head, letting out a satisfied groan as he leisurely pulls out a phone. It takes some scrolling before finding the message, and bingo, he finds the right hallway adjacent to the cafeteria after backtracking his steps a bit.

 Lo and behold, who was already there? That's right, none other than Tenko Shit-mura. Hawks´ eyebrow raises as he sends a quick message from Tenko´s phone, and pockets the device.

 ¨You´ve got balls, I´ll give you that.¨ Tenko whips around in horror as he puts the voice together with the person. His thumbs overlap each other and alternate to scratch at his scabbed arms and neck. It's something near a miracle to Hawks as he can't fathom why a girl of your stature would hang around with this degenerate. Sure, he himself had girls sucking his dick in every crevice of the school and outside, but at least he had a name for himself, and a reputation befitting of a god´s.

 This thing?

 ¨Oh, h-hey Hawks,¨ and the unamused blond curls his lip in disgust as Tenko´s wavering words were almost drowned out by the sound of vigorous scratching. ¨I was just waiting for Iguchi-¨

 ¨-And Atsuhiro, right? Funny, they left the caf´ at the same time you did, so why exactly are you here?¨ He smirks and folds his arms, leaning on the lockers.

 It was borderline hysterical how white Tenko´s face went, and Hawks distantly wonders how much whiter could his face go before real blood and veins were visible behind the mess of scarred facial features.

 Poor Tenko stammers and stutters over his words trying to find a good enough reason as to why he was lingering there, but he needn't worry so much, because unfortunately for him, Hawks knows exactly why.

 He holds up Tenko´s phone casually and grins at his ashen face as if they were old buddies.

 ¨Didn't anyone ever tell you not to play with other people´s toys?¨ Tenko makes a quick swipe at the phone suspended in midair, but only succeeds in getting sliced by a few directed feathers.

 He groans and clutches his now bleeding stomach, holding up a hand to see a thin line of red adorning his cracked skin.

 Hawks shrugs as if nothing had happened, and cocks his head at his victim. ¨I decided, if you can't learn to keep your nose out of other people's things then I have every right to keep yours.¨

 ¨Give it back man, I don´t know what your deal is, but if this is about Y/N then I swear I haven't been anywhere near her.¨ Tenko looks at him desperately and Hawks chuckles lightly, making the other´s heart sink.

 ¨Yeah, you have. You might be just as gross and sly as Dabi is, but you´re not smarter than me.¨ He waves the device in his snug hand. ¨She might just see you as her friend, but we both know you want her more than that.¨ Tenko loves you.

 ¨In my opinion, she looked better in red.¨ His steel colored head snaps to see his phone screen showing the messages he was so afraid of them finding out about.

 ¨That's not fair, that was so long ago, way before Y/N even knew Dabi.¨ ¨You think that's gonna matter to him?¨ He pushes himself off the wall and advances with his hands in his pockets towards Tenko, who is now frantically scrabbling back on all fours like a mutt. 

 ¨The fact that it even happened is a given that you´re a dead fucker now, Shimura. And don't think I don't see you two running around in the hallways trying to avoid me and Dabi, he sees all that too, y´know. We've both got eyes around the school.¨ He crouches in front of Tenko, and his grin turns ugly into a sneer when the shit-stain on the floor flinches and raises his hands up as if he were about to be hit.

 ¨Why does Dabi care so much about me and her? She´s gonna be married to him, not me. He gets her officially, not me.¨ Tenko says rather bitterly, in Hawks´ opinion.

 ¨He hates how close you are to her. He's jealous, simply put, at how well you know her, how you make her smile and put her at ease. It drives him crazy that some social reject like you has seen her body and the best and worst parts of her before he has, and that's why he lashes out at her. These pictures just prove to him that you need to be removed from the scene. Permanently.¨

 ¨Okay, I get that, but then why are you so involved with it? What are you even getting out of snitching for him?¨ Hawks´s eyes glint and darken, sending a sinister shiver down Tenko´s back. He licks his lips and leans close, giving a confession of his own.

 ¨´Cause if your guys´ shared whore screws up again, I might get a taste of her too. Personally, I couldn't care less about Dabi´s heart, but I wanna see why this girl is worth all this trouble.¨ The fallen soldier recoils slightly at his implication.

 Tenko forces himself to take deep breaths and to stop his shaking. He needs to get his phone back and go to the nurse before anyone sees this scene.

 ¨Just give me my phone back dude, please,¨ He hisses desperately, outstretching a gnarled hand.

 Hawks studies him for a moment. He was almost disappointed in Dabi that the flame user was so butt-hurt about this pathetic sack of bones being closer to his girl than he was.

 But that's what he gets when he holds onto a shred of hope that someone could be a candle to his everlasting flames.

 ¨Here,¨ and he takes momentary mercy on Tenko, tossing his phone on the ground in front of him.

 He starts walking away, wings ruffling with foreboding anticipation as he pulls out his own phone to send a message to the man of the hour.

 But before he does, he calls out over his shoulder a warning to the boy on the ground.

 ¨If you see her again, you won't be the only one getting buried that day¨.

 Tenko scratches his neck.

 *************

Ashtray: Was he there?

 2:00 pm: Yup, you were right. Guess they never learn, huh?

 Ashtray: Whatever, I have her phone and I just sent him the message. Send me a feather so I can send it back to her class

 2:01 pm: You deleted the message right?

 Ashtray: Obviously. You too?

 2:01 pm: Yeah, did it as soon as I saw him standing there

 Ashtray: Good. Make sure the area is clear after school

     Call Kai over too, I'm gonna need him when I'm preoccupied

 And unbeknownst to you, a velvet feather was indeed carrying a small cellular device on its back, weaving in and out of empty hallways to find your designated classroom.

 The silent plumage floats stealthily through the slightly ajar door and makes sure to stay low to the ground as it approaches your desk. Luckily there's an opening in your bag, so it quietly drops your phone inside while you tediously take notes.

 It can't help itself when your legs cross over themselves; you look so unassuming and innocent that it just has to get a quick taste. The feather travels up the expanse of your leg up to your inner thigh, and gently brushes against you, laying some pressure on it as well.

 From his own classroom, Hawks shivers in sickening pleasure when he senses the vibration of your gasp and the quickening of your heartbeat as you jolt and look underneath your desk.

 But you find nothing, the feather already having been directed to whizz out of the room and back to its owner.

 ¨What the hell,¨ you mutter to yourself as you brush the crawling feeling off your skin. You glance at your bag for a second, and then do a double take when you see the screen of your phone glowing.

 After taking a quick glance at your preoccupied teacher, you reach for the device and squint at the notification that shows on your lockscreen.

 One new message from Ten-ten.

 Ten-ten: Meet me behind the training grounds outside after school, its urgent

 Your brows crease in concern and you tap a message back to him.

 2:05: Are you okay? What happened?

 2:07: Where were you today after lunch? I didn't see you outside the lunchroom

2:06: And when did you get your phone back?

 2:10: Hello?

 And from across the school, Tenko is trudging away from the nurse's office back to his own classroom, frowning at your message as well.

 Y/N: Meet me behind the training grounds outside after school, its urgent

 He sighs and drags a gnarled hand down his weary face, stopping his fingers under his jaw to dig his nails into the thin flesh.

 2:06: We can't meet up again at school, Dabi and Hawks are gonna kill both of us

 2:08: I´m serious

 He's in his classroom now, and his unease has merely grown. You were usually so good at texting him back promptly, what´s wrong now?

 Biting a fingernail, he hesitates before using his other free hand to type some more.

 2:10: You okay?

 Almost 30 minutes pass, and Dabi is counting each second in anticipation.

 *********************

The sounding chime of the school bell causes Shimura to stop his periodic scratching and leg-bouncing, instead opting to shoot up out of his seat and bound out the classroom to where you said you were.

 Anxiety clouds over and erases all rational thought from his disturbed mind when he thinks of your lack of response.

 Were you mad at him? Were you safe?

 A stronger man with more self control would have resisted from going to check up on the girl that caused so much trouble for him, but Tenko was not a strong man. He was weak, and soft-willed, and if he was already getting the life beat out of him any other day because of his weakness, then what would one more catalyst be?

 His bony figure is ricocheted off various bodies as he bolts down the halls towards the back of the school, looks of disgust thrown his way and noses scrunched as he mutters occasionally, ¨Sorry, excuse me¨ and ¨My bad, I´m sorry¨. It doesn't deter him, he's used to the disdain by now and with the thought of you in mind he finally reaches the back of the Quirk Training facility, shoving through the double doors.

 Muted sunlight peeks through the large trees that loom over the area, the sky already turning a russet color in the beginning of its descent. He looks around wildly for you, and then he finally spots you in all your oblivious glory standing at the edge of the fence, your face slightly covered from the large sakura branches winding over the mesh.

 Tenko releases a breath he didn't know he was holding, and starts approaching you.

 You´re playing with the vines growing on the fence, but you turn around when you hear footsteps coming near.

 ¨Hey! What´s up?¨

 ¨I could ask you the same thing,¨ he says warily, looking you up and down to make sure you seemed unscathed. ¨What's going on? Why haven't you been answering any of my texts?¨

 You raise an eyebrow and laugh a little, thinking that he was messing with you.

 ¨Huh? You´re the one who called me here. And you didn't send any messages to me, look.¨ He grabs the phone that you thrust in his face, scratching lighty at his collarbones.

 You gently swat his hand away and watch as he thumbs through your chat log.

 His own brows furrow and he looks at you weirdly as he produces his own device, flipping the screen around and showing you the many messages he sent not too long ago.

 You squint at the blue light and look back up at him, mouth agape.

 ¨Wait, so you didn't call me here? I tried texting you too, but I didn't get an answer. I just thought you were busy or something.¨

¨Look, I don't know what's going on here, but we need to leave,¨ He says anxiously as he grabs your arm and starts to pull you around the corner. ¨This is weird, I don't like it-¨

 ¨Hold it you two.¨

 You both freeze, ice flooding through both your systems as you recognize the lazy voice.

 Slowly, you turn your head to face the last person you wanted to see in this state.

 Hawks is leaning casually against the brick wall, wings flared out to their fullest extent. Next to him is a new guy you´ve never seen before, a brunette with gold eyes like Hawks´ and a black beak mask to match. His hands are clad in white gloves, and he periodically keeps checking the watch on his pale wrist as if he has somewhere to be. 

 He's surrounded by cronies, tattoos covering the expanse of their bulky arms and baseball bats along with guns strapped over their heads or twiddling through their fingers.

 You think you´re going to throw up.

 Dabi is the first to speak, his guttural voice cutting through the thick, tense air like a serrated rusted knife.

 ¨Well, shit doll. I didn't think I'd have to break my future house slut so quickly.¨

 ¨Dabi, wait, there's been a misunderstanding-¨ ¨-And you,¨ he draws on as if you hadn't spoken. You tried to catch his eye but it seemed like he was purposely avoiding you, instead going for drilling invisible holes through Tenko´s head.

 If you had asked him, he was granting you mercy and your last shred of dignity by not letting you continue speaking, before he viciously strips it away from you. He feels as though if he hears your voice right now, the entire pavilion will go up in flames, including the chicken bastard and the Shie Hassaiki members.

 He stuffs his inflamed palms into his fire-deterrent pants to quell his unbridled rage. To anyone else he seemed at sick ease in having the upper hand, but in all honesty, Dabi would be lying if he said he really did wish you would have passed his test and not met with Tenko.

 ¨You´ve got a lot of balls to be talking to my bitch for such a dickless wonder. I thought after beating it into your skull for a couple of years that you'd understand where your place is.¨

 Out of the corner of your eye, a massive wooden bat swings towards Tenko and smashes against his head with a sickening thud.

 They must have surrounded you from the other side of the building too when you both were distracted.

 You scream so loudly you can feel your vocal cords vibrating in your throat. Everything seems to move ten times faster as you´re suddenly yanked back by invisible feathers, and dragged almost 15 feet away from Tenko´s unmoving body right into Dabi´s cruel embrace. 

 He harshly spins you around and shakes you like a ragdoll, staring you straight in your horrified eyes.

 ¨I told you not to hang around him, right? Well, if you don´t wanna listen to me, then at least listen to the beautiful sounds of your precious boy toy getting his skull bashed in.¨

And with that he spins you around again, a vice-like grip on your arms as he traps you against his hard body. You´re faced with front-row seats to watch the nauseating scene of Tenko indeed getting beaten to a pulp.

 ¨I´m going to make you fucking regret it,¨ He hisses in your ear, but you´re so dizzy with blood and teeth littering the ground filling your vision that you can´t even move.

 You vaguely hear Hawks tsk next to you, leaning against the wall and stretching his wings as if he had better places to be. As if watching a kid getting beaten half to death was something he saw every day.

 Grunts and jeering comments come from the large tattooed boys while they rain blow after blow on Tenko´s shuddering body. You can't even comprehend what kind of pain he´s in from the inhumane shrieks that come out of him. It was mesmerizingly terrifying how a human being could make sounds like the ones he was making, ranging from low wails of pleading mercy to high pitched cries of pain when they began kicking him.

 Feet pound on his back, crushing his paper-thin skin against the gravel, causing it to rip and tear,allowing rivers of blood to pool around his form. Now-cracked baseball bats become dented as they explode down on his head, and you distantly wonder how he's still alive with bits of hair and membrane clinging to the wood.

Your best friend flinches every time contact is made with his body; his fingers are curled and raised above his head to protect himself, and you think you can make out his chest puffing in and out a mile a minute. He might be having a panic attack, you´re not sure and you want to run to him, but the loud ringing in your head and the tears that cascade down your face are indications that you know you´re utterly trapped right now. You couldn't move even if you wanted to.

 ¨Stop,¨ you croak from the confines of Dabi´s arms, clawing at his jacket. ¨Please, stop, you're killing him.¨

 Dabi releases an arm to tap on his chin in mocking contemplation. ¨Hmm...tempting, but no thanks doll. This is supposed to be a lesson, not a freebie.¨ ¨Are we done from here?¨ A nasaly bored voice emerges from the background laughs and screams. The brunette with the beak-mask is standing a little away from Hawks, sighing and rolling his eyes.

 Is everyone here excluding you and Tenko a psychopath? How does Dabi even know them?

Not that you could say you were surprised, however. A man cruel enough to execute something like this surely has a heart blacker than coal.

 ¨Dabi, please!¨ you sob hysterically now, the pained noises coming from Tenko are coming out softer and less frequently now, you think he might die soon if one more bat slams into his ribcage. ¨I´ve learned my lesson, please, please don't do this to him.¨ you cry and beat your fists against his arms, which only squeeze painfully around your middle.

 ¨Nah, I don't think you have, actually. You said that last time, and look what's happening because of your lies,¨ he jeers at you, exchanging a smirk with Hawks.

 ¨I´ll do anything,¨ you whisper in desperation, looking at him full in his poker face.

 ¨Anything?¨ His brows raise gleefully, and you nod vigorously, not caring what that means for you, only concerned that the assault on the motionless body mere feet away from you stops.

 Dabi regards you for a moment, taking in your tears and wobbling lip, before he finally turns to the masked man, and gives him a curt nod. ¨Alright, we´re done here Kai. Take your guys and leave.¨

 The man named Kai dusts off his purple jacket and calls out for his boys to stop.

 ¨That's enough. We´re going.¨ He wrinkles his nose in afterthought. ¨And make sure you clean your stuff off, I don't wanna deal with bloody bats...god knows how many diseases that thing is carrying, ´looks like it has mange.¨ 

 That thing is currently groaning in difficulty to lift his face out of a puddle of his own blood, tears, and snot, almost choking on the mixed liquids invading his mouth and nostrils

 He blearily lifts his head ever so slightly, and sees you writhing in Dabi´s embrace, one of his forearms wrapped around the front of her throat and evidently choking you from the way you frantically gulp in air.

 He hoarsley whispers out your name, and you heave out another dry sob when you see his lips form your name in them. He painfully and slowly starts to rise up to his hands and knees, and it's like looking at a baby stand up for the first time from the amount of visible shaking you can see in his broken limbs.

 Dabi, you, Hawks, and Kai as well as the groupies all watch in awe as the stick-thin figure manages to elbow his way up, and Hawks scoffs in disbelief at Tenko´s grit. A man in his state shouldn't even be able to blink.

 Meanwhile, you can feel your fiance's arms tremble in barely concealed rage from watching the blatant act of disrespect.

 You want to tell Tenko to just stay the fuck down, and don´t piss them off further, but part of you takes savage pride in his perserverance.

 Is he just used to this? Is that why it's so easy for him to disregard the volumes of blood that come vomiting out of his mouth? How long has he been accustomed to places other than his heart being broken?

 It's hard not to cringe as he places his bloodied palms against the sharp concrete; you can see tiny pebbles embed themselves in his open wounds, and his fingers bend in unnatural ways as he elevates himself and maintains eye contact with just you.

 You think he's crying, but it's hard to tell when your own vision is blurry.

 It´s quiet for a moment after everyone witnesses Tenko´s own version of a fuck you, until Kai turns on his heels, his boys immediatley scrambling towards their leader as he makes to leave.

 He walks towards Hawks, and you can hear him murmur, ``You owe me.¨ He gives a curt nod to Dabi who merely grunts.

 Hawks, ever the optimist, laughs joyfully and reaches out a hand towards the beaked boy. ¨Of course man! We'll be in touch soon.¨

 Kai merely waves his hand in a resemblance of a farewell, crinkling his nose at Hawks´ outreached one. He rounds the corner, his boys smirking in tow, and then they´re gone. As if nothing has happened.

 The silence grows louder, deafening your ears. The only reprieve you get from feeling mounting terror of being vulnerable without anyone around is when Tenko starts hacking, his arms buckling underneath his weight in an effort to keep upright.

 And then they surround you.

 ****

 ¨What's with the tears baby? You knew this was gonna happen, we warned you-¨

¨-Scared you´re gonna end up like him? Good, but I´ll be honest, I think cum would look better coating your face-¨

 ¨-You didn't actually think I was gonna let you get away with this shit again, did you? God you´re such a spoiled slut, I´m gonna enjoy breaking you down like your parents never did-¨

 Shoving you around and into each other, groping you, leering right in your personal space, advancing towards you so that you stumbled backwards closer to Tenko.

 ¨No, stop, leave me-us alone, stay away from me!¨ You scream, and Dabi wraps an inflamed hand around your upper arm, racking up the volume of your cries.

 ¨Shut the fuck up. You don't get to complain anymore, you're gonna finish your punishment you little brat.¨

You wail as you wrench yourself out of his grip, fueled by pure adrenaline. Ignoring your searing flesh, you try running around them but with a lazy flick of Hawk´s wrist, numerous feathers catch you around your collar and feet, pulling you back. Your thrashing only serves in getting cut up more, and they deposit you less-than-gently right next to Tenko.

 He watches with wide eyes and shakes his head with urgency for you to leave, to run again, but his head is forcefully slammed to the ground by the blond´s boot. You hear a crunch from his nose and bile rises from your throat as you try scrambling towards him out of instinct.

 ¨Do you have a death wish? Stop worrying about him, and worry about yourself for a second doll, you´re gonna want to.¨ A scarred hand grabs your chin and yanks it to face him. His lips are curled back, his lids lowered and his eyebrows are raised.

 You jerk your head back and spit in his face. ¨You´re not gonna get away with this Touya.¨ You don't even care about using his other moniker anymore. ¨How the fuck can I not worry about him? Look at him! You´re the crazy one!¨

 He snickers and crouches to your level, moving forward until your rapid crab-walk backwards results in your back hitting the brick wall.

 ¨You hear that Keigo? I´m gonna pay for this, oh no, however will I recover?¨ He simpers, joining in Keigo´s boisterous cackles. 

 You risk a panicked glance at Tenko. At least there wasn't a boot on the back of his head anymore, but you didn't gain any comfort when he was roughly grabbed by his shirt and lifted up to a sitting position facing you, Hawks smugly holding his head up from rolling around in its socket. 

  His face was a mess. You could barely recognize his thin, narrow features anymore when his whole head was caked with splotches of liquid red, mud, and gravel piercing his cheeks. His mouth was gaping, filled with yet even more blood, and where his teeth used to be was instead gaping holes and vermillion-stained cracked bone

 Now that he's sitting somewhat upright, you can clearly see protrusions where his ribs are, clearly indicating breaks and torn ligaments.

 But your attention is directed to the monster in front of you. He rests a burning hand on your calf, and you whimper as you try to pull back from the unbearable pain. You were certain that if when you got out of here, you´d need to go to an infirmary immediately.

 Touya stops your leg from retreating, holding it down while simultaneously trailing his digits up your leg, crawling forward even closer to you with the most disgusting shit-eating grin on his face while doing so. All your pleas of ¨Stay back¨ and ¨Don't come any closer Touya, I swear-!¨ does nothing to deter him, rather goading him on while your audience of two watches in horror from one man and perverted amusement with the other.

 ¨Yeah? Or what, huh? You gonna hit me with your quirk? Oh wait, you don't have one.¨

 He straddles you, pressing his chest against yours and shamelessly looking down when your breasts swell from the pressure. You bite your lip and turn your head, taking in quick inhales to avoid breathing in too much of the smell of smoke.

 ¨Nuh-uh princess, I want your eyes on me now when I fuck you. I’m gonna show you who daddy is today.¨

 You don’t know what kind of adrenaline rush you experience when the words slip out, “That’s rich from the guy who practically creamed his pants when he talked to his own daddy. Why don’t you solve your own daddy issues before starting mine, huh?”

 He slaps you so hard you see stars within the setting sun.

 It's hard to tell who hates who more at the moment, but regardless, it doesn’t stop Dabi from grabbing your cunt and squeezing hard.

 Your lids fly open and your head snaps forward to face him in sheer panic, the moment of bravado gone as the chemicals pumping through your brain catch up to your heart.

 ¨Wait, no-¨

 In one fluid movement, he clenches his thighs on either side of yours, and uses his legs to flip you over. With the same momentum, he grabs your arms and yanks you to the new switched position; him against the wall and you in between his legs, back to his chest.

 In another time, Touya would have been secretly overjoyed being pressed against you so intimately like this. It almost felt domestic, not that he knew anything about that word, but it was the closest feeling he could pinpoint to it. His heart was pounding, and he wondered if you could feel it against your back.

 He hoped you could.

 The vague sounds of Shit-mura noisily inhaling through his broken nose only bothered him slightly, the feeling of his counterpart´s greedy eyes scanning your body and his hold on you barely registered. He was in a zone of his own at that moment, just the two of you, regardless of the circumstances. 

 Touya didn´t actually think of this as a punishment, no, he thought of this simply as an opportunity to unapologetically make love fuck you and show you how much he wants you who´s boss. Nothing personal, just business. You have to learn how to please your husband eventually right? Might as well let him show you how a woman is supposed to act in front of a man.

 It was just pure bad luck for you that you got saddled with a man who wants you to act like a whore for him.

 ¨Yo, Keigo, help me out here, the bitch won't stop moving.¨ He grunts out, struggling to subdue your flailing limbs. Despite him amping up the temperature in his palms against your stomach and arms, you still continued to try and escape him. 

 He couldn't bear to do any worse, the tears rolling down your face already made his heart feel funny and he didn't want to feel anything anymore.

 Hawks sighed dramatically and unleashed a few of his feathers to aid Dabi. Immediately your wrists were pinned to your sides, your feet weighed down by the sheer force of the plumage. You break down and sob to your heart's content, knowing that you were done for.

 Touya feels your body slacken, and he quickly put out the fire in his fists.

 ¨Watch the show, Tenko. I know you´ve been dying for a piece of this ass for a while, anyways.¨

 Hawks jerks Tenko´s chin forwards, ensuring that his attention was on you as Dabi began feeling you up, relishing in how your rib cage shook with heaves as you shook in his arms. He shoved his hands underneath your shirt and lifted the hem up all the way over you, the feather pulling your arms above you for easier access.

 A sudden breeze rattled you to your core, but it wasn´t just the weather that made your teeth chatter.

 It was the sick desperation and rapt attention in Tenko´s eyes. It was Keigo was looking you over with lowered lids, palming himself and hissing when Dabi took a mismatched finger and pulled your bra cups down ever so slightly, teasing the boys with cleavage and a hint of areola.

 ¨Touya, please,¨ you squint your eyes shut and turn your head away from salacious gazes. ¨If-if you´re gonna do this, please don't let them watch.¨

 ¨Nah sweetheart,¨ he simpers as he burns the straps off your undergarment, allowing the sheer protection to fall to the gravel. ¨You wanted to whore yourself out, right? Well, this is what happens to little whores who don´t wanna keep their legs closed.¨ His voice is right at your ear, nipping and suckling the senstivie flesh while his ruthless hands take handfuls of your tits and squeeze them, rub them together, weigh them appreciatively in his scratchy flesh.

 ¨Fuck, flick her nipples a bit, I wanna see them get hard,¨ Keigo groans out, yanking Tenko´s bleeding head. ¨You like this, you little perv? You like watching your best friend get raped?¨

 ¨N-no, no I don't! Leave her alone!¨ And even if it wasn´t from Keigo shoving him down and wrestling for his zipper to pull his hard dick out, you would've already known he's lying from the way his bloody mouth opens slightly and drools watching Dabi pinch and roll your nipples.

 You keen and whimper as Dabi leans his head down past your neck and lifts a breast up, darting his tongue out and swirling the appendage over your hardening buds. The feathers prove to be useful when they hold your wrists down and prevent you from escaping him.

 ¨Holy shit, he's actually hard from this. You´re even more fucked up than I thought, Shimura, I´m almost impressed.¨ The beaten boy cries out and pathetically tries to remove his member from Keigo´s tight fist, but obviously is no match for the way the blond fucks the skinny dick in his hand, squeezing almost painfully at his tip. With the help of his other feathers, he frees his own length and teases himself, the red turning white at the tips as they collect his precum.

 Dabi says nothing, but keeps his eyes on Tenko as he moves your body up into his lap, settling your ass right on top of his erection. You inhale shakily as he too fumbles to release his aching cock from his jeans, your nose clogged from crying and your voice hoarse from screaming. He lifts your skirt up and hisses in appreciation at the direct contact your panty-clad ass gives, suffocating his dick in your warmth.

 The experimentally thrusts lightly a couple times, jostling you up and down and making your tits bounce. Keigo and Tenko look in awe, the feathers and hands moving rapidly in time with Dabi´s thrusting. You try to avoid eye contact with either of them or their leaking dicks.

 You feel like your heart is a runny mess, you´re a mess, your hair is fucked up, your clothes are being strewn on the ground and burned away, your skin is being molested, you don´t know what the fuck is going on or what to do.

 So instead of pleading, you decide to relent and get this over with quickly. The less resistance you show, the faster you can get Tenko to an E.R.

 And speaking of faster, Dabi has stopped grinding against your ass in favor of snaking a hand around and toying with the hem of your panties, holding your skirt up.

 You bite your lip and your eye twitches, but you stay silent save for shuddering inhales through your nose.

 Taken slightly aback by your lack of complaint, Dabi hesitates for a moment before shaking it off, delving his fingers into your panties, the cloth moving and bulging out from his hand sliding in and out of your folds.

 You whimper and jerk your hips minutely in instinct, and he feels it, much to your horror. He grins and takes it as encouragement, circling his digits through your little-more-than folds until he finds the clit by the way you jump at contact.

 He presses down, flicks it, circles it, gathering lube from your mutinously throbbing cunt to slick yourself up, thoroughly enjoying your sharp inhales and the way you can´t help moving against the invading actions.

 It's only when Keigo calls out that Dabi remembers he's not doing this to please you, he´s doing this to fuck you over just like how you did to him. 

 ¨Pull her panties off, I think our little vouyer here is gonna come soon,¨ he positively purrs as he presses a thumb against Tenko´s jerking hips.

 More blood has covered Shimura´s head and body, but even amongst the mess of flesh that was once his face you can clearly see his eyes wide open, pupils blown black with lust, bones actually audibly rattling in their broken sockets as he breathes heavily at your corruption. 

 He looks insane, more insane than the ones actually raping you. You wonder if you feel more violated by the obvious monsters who told you straight up what they were going to do to you, or the one who swore to be your friend, who swore to never relish in your pain.

 You´re brought out of your empty contemplation when Dabi neglects fingering your clit to yank your skirt off your shaking legs. He doesn't even bother with slowly stripping the panties off, impatience overriding better judgement. You again offer little to no resistance as he does so, which riles up the squeamish feeling in his heart.

 Now fully exposed to him, his cock stretches another couple of millimeters, looking like it's going to burst from the angry red and purple swelling it adorns.

 Keigo whistles and licks his lips, lecherously looking over your tits and exposed pussy all for the taking.

 He pulls your hips back and forces you to hover right above his standing cock, causing your knees to shake in exertion. You feel like you´re going to faint any second.

 ¨You ready doll? Ready to take your husband´s cock for the first time?¨ He cooes, bringing you lower and swiping the weeping slit of his prick against the wetness of your folds. You mewl and try to shift, but it only serves in him pulling you down even more, your labia ever so slightly enveloping the top of his tip.

 Your cunt is pounding with rushing blood, and he almost gasps as the sensation flows into both of your sensitive bits.

 Leaning forward, he conceals his mouth behind your hair as he mutters, ¨Try to relax for me, it´ll hurt less.¨

 You can't care less for his consideration, not when his jerky thrusts feel like they're splitting you in two. All your poor pussy is aware of is the blinding white-hot pain felt on every wall as Touya takes from you what you would not willingly give.

 The sounds of your squelching hole-whether from blood, precum, your own tears, who knows-fill the air obscenely. You mistake a glance upwards in your blurry vision and you nearly vomit when you see Hawk´s hand furiously bobbing up and down Tenko´s flushed red dick, and his own being caressed with lust. They look like fucking dogs drooling over your state.

 You´re brought out of your horrified reverie when Dabi hisses. He fully sheathes himself inside you and you mewl at the sensation of being filled. Liquid trails down where you two connect, and it feels disgusting as he pulls out only to slam back into you, the cooling wetness of said liquids splashing everywhere and onto the concrete below you.

 Your tits bounce up and down as Dabi takes his sweet time pulling out all the way only to give you a moment's reprieve before diving back into the wet cavern. Eyes rolling back into your head at the feeling of his veiny dick thrusting in and out of you, mouth open when he remembers to heat up his hands and play with your nipples, your legs shaking when he alternates to play with your clit, you look like a real slut.

 Tenko cums suddenly, crying out and jerking his hips up into Hawks hand when you let out an especially pornographic moan. Ropes of white shoot up like a fountain from his tip and splatter Keigo´s hand and the pavement.

 Keigo cries out and laughs in disgust, wiping his soiled hand into Tenko´s hair.

 ¨You see that? Look how perfect and sweet your little friend is now, Y/N,¨ Dabi pants into your ear, yanking your hair back and forcing you to look at your ex best friend.

 ¨No, d-don´t wanna look, please let go,¨ you babble as he fucks you stupid.

 ¨Shut up. Whores don't get to beg for mercy,¨ He sneers as he slaps a bouncing tit, hard.

 ¨The same should apply for cucks like him,¨ Keigo speaks up and slaps the back of Tenko´s head, sending blood and hair flying off his face.

 Dabi stops pounding into you, allowing you to take a merciful breath despite what he said.

 ¨Yeah? You think so?¨ Shimura snaps out of his daze when he realizes they´re talking about him. He shakes his head frantically and tries to tuck his softening cock into his pants but a red feather is quick to restrain him.

 ¨Uh-uh, pathetic bastards like you need to get their dues too. We let you off easy with the Shie Hassaiki,¨ He snickers.

 ¨Come one. Lick this mess up. I'm sure you dreamt about it before, closet perv.¨ Dabi sneers as the blond´s boot sends Tenko flying forwards, almost colliding with your stomach.

 You squeeze your eyes shut, inhaling shakily as he gets back up on his hands and knees. You can't bear to look at him right now.

 They all disgust you.

 ¨What did I just say, slut? Eyes open.¨ A patched hand slaps you and your head is snapped forwards mere inches from Tenko´s. 

 Your gazes meet, but you can't recognize the eyes anymore. They used to belong to a man´s but now they reflect that of a monster´ s.

 ¨Clean this mess up. Any time this little pussy drools you´re going to eat it up like the roach you are. And if by the time she's done riding and I see a single patch of slick on her I'll knock the rest of your teeth out, got that?¨ Dabi reaches his arm around and pulls the weak boy´s hair forwards until his nose nestles where your filled pussy is.

 All you can do is watch as he hesitantly darts his tongue out and licks from Dabi´s engorged dick up to your clit.

 ¨Fuck you,¨ you whisper to no one and everyone as you let your head fall back, signaling to your finance that you were in enough pain to start up again.

 ¨You´ve had enough rest. Ride my fucking dick until I say stop.¨ He doesn't need to threaten you this time. You shakily rise up on your knees and twitch when he slaps your ass suddenly. The entire time you lift yourself up, Tenko´s tongue follows up Dabi´s exposed length until it swirls around your clit again.

 You feel numb. 

 Sinking back down onto him is even more excruciating because you can vividly feel every inch of him scraping up against your walls. It doesn't help that a certain tongue is lapping away at you too.

 But nonetheless you don´t waste any time bouncing up and down like your life depended on it, which it probably did.

 You can hear him panting behind you, his mouth letting out ragged breaths against your ear, his mouth desperately trying to suck galaxy colored hickies into your naked torso as you envelope him.

 The feeling of Dabi and Tenko´s breaths puffing onto your clit and nipples would´ve caused the start of a climax if it weren't for Keigo´s unnecessary commentary.

 ¨Holy fucking shit that´s so messed up. Wait no, move down a bit, lick the base of his dick. Yeahhh, just like that.¨ He walks around the scene with his phone out, obviously recording as he leans in toward some anatomy and pulls away to get the bigger picture at other angles.

 And Tenko actually listens. He follows through every salacious order Keigo gives, he even does it a little bit better than someone who's supposed to at least pretend they're not enjoying your ordeal.

 You can tell Dabi is reaching his peak when he suddenly grabs your hips in a bruising grip and slams you down on his length, emitting a broken scream from you. He quickly slaps a hand over your mouth and spews filth in your ear as he uses you like a fleshlight.

 ¨You like bouncing on my dick like a whore? Huh, Y/N? Answer me you little bitch, or are you too cock hungry to say anything else? Not enough dicks here to satisfy you, princess? Keigo, get over here, she looks like she needs more.¨ You wail and scream behind his hand as Keigo eagerly stands over you, his member already being pumped in a hand.

 ¨That's right slut, you already know what to do, don´t you? I bet a slut like you has practice, ´bet you and the degenerate licking the cum from your pussy did it all the time.¨ You look imploringly at his head ducked between your thighs and even clench them around his head to get his attention. But he refuses to refute the accusations hissed at you in favor of eating your own slick off your puffy folds.

 Keigo waits no longer as he seizes your hand and slaps it against his base, silently urging you to stroke him. You wearily look up at him and are faced with a bright camera light trained on your fucked-out face and trembling hand. Knowing that you were stuck, you started stroking, accepting whatever pace he made you take as he lifted his hips up into your cupped palm, his balls smacking against your wrist while you jacked him off.

 Dabi´s pants grew louder and more choked as every part of you became occupied with cocks. He still kept a hand over your mouth, bringing it up to his mouth every couple of seconds to taste the tears that slid down from your eyes down to his digits.

 ¨´Gonna cum, and you´re gonna take it all in that sloppy hole of yours. ´M gonna fill you up with cum and make you fat with my kids, you´re gonna be on your fucking hands and knees for me like a good little housewife aren´t you-¨

 The third time he brings his hand away to taste your tears you frantically gasp out, ¨Don´t do it inside Touya, please don´t, not inside I'm begging you to-¨

 But you´re cut off suddenly when Tenko teeths at your slicked clit, and you mewl, unconsciously rolling your hips into his mouth even more.

 His tongue travels around your stretched labia and around Dabi´ś balls, causing you both to hiss in unison.

 ¨I'll do whatever the fuck I want. You´re lucky I´m not fucking you up the ass, you ungrateful bitch.¨

 His dick starts twitching in your pussy, and you know he's about to burst.

 ¨I´ll never forgive you.¨ You whisper in defeat, for the umpteenth time.

 ¨I don't need you to,¨ he merely grunts as he cums inside you with a loud groan.

 His body shakes and he pulls your naked back against his torso, hugging you tightly and filling you up. At the same time, Keigo also lets out a string of curses as your hand is doused with milky white substance from his own.

 Dabi grabs your jaw and turns you to face him. ¨Who do you love?¨ he purrs, nuzzling your cheek with faux affection.

 You force yourself to make it sound faux, because you hate the way he looks so deeply into your eyes.

 ¨Y-you.¨ ¨That´s a good girl,¨ he whispers and kisses you, hard.

 You´re slumped. There´s mixed cum from all four people coating your body, various fluids and anatomy strewn on the concrete around you, and clothes shuffling in place as they regroup themselves. 

 Tenko slowly crawls back up from his position in front of your cunt, rearing back on his knees and wiping streaming blood from his head. Keigo tucks his dick back in his pants and cruelly wipes the cum that flew on his clothes into your hair, while Dabi dumps you off his lap onto the grating ground.

 ¨Well, I hope you two learned your lesson today,¨ Keigo simpered with scrunched eyebrows, pouting at you both.

 By now the inky haired man has gotten to his feet, brushing his hands off excess grime. 

 ¨That was fun, I should've done this a lot sooner, honestly,¨ he leers at both the figures on the ground, and you refrain from looking anyone in the eyes. ¨I´m gonna take her home. Keigo, deal with this fuckwad while I'm gone. And get him an ice pack, he looks like pure shit.¨ He snorts to himself.

 ¨How considerate of you Touya. And here I was thinking you didn't have a heart.¨

 You and Tenko don´t join in their vicious laughter.

 ¨Aw come on sweetheart, the worst is over. I doubt you´ll go through that again, since you know what'll happen if you continue to act out.¨ Your fiance crouches down and starts shoving your limbs back into their clothes, ignoring the way you weakly try to evade his callous touch.

 Everyone stares in silence as you´re dressed like a child, unable to properly move from the shock and trauma you just endured. It was weird seeing you so quiet. They thought you would´ve still been crying, or at least fighting back now that they no longer had a hold on you.

 But you were so, so accommodating as Touya pulled you up to your feet, keeping a firm grasp around your waist to keep your knees from buckling. You kept your head down as he grabbed your backpack from a helping feather´s elevation and slung it over his own shoulder.

 ¨I´ll catch you later Kei. Keep me updated on our little experiment,¨ he winks before steering you around the corner.

 That was the last time you saw Tenko Shimura, your best friend of years.

 ¨E-experiment?¨ His hoarse voice questions, nasally from the buildup in his broken nose.

 ¨Yeah, you heard right. You´re our little experiment, Shimura. Truth be told, I always saw the potential in you. After Touya showed me those texts between you and Y/N it just confirmed my suspicion.¨ Keigo plucked a feather out and tossed it to Tenko´s gnarled hand. ¨Here, use this to wipe that shit off your face. I´m not in the mood to drag you to a nurse right now so this´ll have to do.¨

 ¨Potential? Suspicion? I don't get it,¨ he brings the feather up painfully down the sides of his cheeks, collecting the grime and gore onto the victimized plumage.

 The blond grimaces at the disgusting sight and looks away. ¨I mean, I see the potential in you to be one of us. I knew you weren't this goody-two shoes, quiet loser that everyone made you out to be. And you really proved it today, too. I didn´t know you had it in you all the way to eat her cunt like that while she was getting raped, shit was pretty erotic if I´m being honest.¨

 Tenko cringes at the brutal choice of words but doesn´t refute them. He stays quiet before Keigo realizes he needs some more coaxing out of his cautious state.

 ¨Hey, look man, none of that stuff earlier was personal, alright? Touya just needed to prove a point to his bitch, that's all.¨ He shrugs so easily, as if everyone was as delusional as him to believe that.

 But maybe Tenko really had snapped, because he turned to Keigo with a glimmer of hope in his eyes, taking in his words.

 ¨Really? I thought you guys hated me,¨ he mutters, looking down at the soiled feather in his hand.

 ¨Nah, it's nothing like that. Just gotta prove to us how you´re different, y´know?¨ Hawks slings an arm and wing around Tenko´s bruised shoulder as if to offer him some security.

 ¨You don´t wanna be a loser anymore, right? Consider this a new chapter in your life, the next big steps.¨ ¨Yeah.¨ ¨Good.¨ They stay like that for a couple moments of silence, drinking in the setting sun.

 And then Tenko can´t hold his curiosity any longer.

 ¨But how do I do that? There´s nothing really about me that´s special...I mean, except for...however the hell I was acting like earlier,¨ he shifts uncomfortably, recalling the thirst he felt when he saw your sopping cunt getting fucked stupid. It was strange, really. The itch in his body had never felt more satiated when he felt like the oppressor once, rather than the oppressed when watching your eyes fill up with tears, knowing that he was the one who caused it. He had never felt that calm and pleased even when the itch was satisfied by your soothing fingers over his scratched-raw skin.

 ¨That's what I'm thinkin´ too,¨ Keigo thoughtfully holds a hand to his chin, his wings flapping lazily with the cool breeze. ¨I´d say the first step to a new chapter with us is to change that dopey schoolboy name. Tenko Shimura? That sounds like a dog´s name. And you don´t wanna be a kicked around puppy anymore, do you?¨

Tenko vigorously shakes his head. 

 A new chapter with us.

 Us.

 He swallows hard, unable to think of a cool name that would be good enough as a new group member. The shock on his body was catching up, so he forfeited his pride and sought help from his recruiter.

 “Did you have anything in mind?”

 Hawks hums thoughtfully. “Yeah...how ‘bout Tomura? Tomura Shigaraki?” He looks over ex-Tenko’s broken body and nods in confirmation.

“Tomura...Shigaraki,” the new Tomura says slowly, letting his tongue run over his missing and broken teeth in the midst of testing out the new name.

 “The kanji for it has to do with change and mourning, something like that I think. It’s pretty fitting, especially since you’re letting go of your past and moving on with your life...right?” Keigo side eyes Tomura mischievously, knowing he was in no place to defy him.

 Shigaraki merely looks to the horizon, silently acknowledging the new chapter of his life. Another cold breeze swirls around the two men, but it's not the sting of the wind that brings newfound tears to Tenko Tomura’s eyes.

 He shakily rises to his feet with a grunt, clutching his ribs and tilting his head back to avoid breathing in anymore drying blood. Keigo gets up with him, outstretching a hand towards him to steady him on his feet, which Tomura takes.

 “I think I need to see a nurse.”

 The blond laughs, his wings fluttering with the waves of his voice.

 “Almost forgot about that. But y’know, you should be more careful next time you train with us. I don’t think your body can take any more damage than it already has.”

 ******************

 You haven’t returned any of Touya’s calls.

 You haven’t received any messages from Tenko.

 You didn’t get out of bed when you saw a red feather zooming past your window in the morning.

 You’ve been home for three days now, huddled under the comforters and only getting up to drink some water like a zombie. Showers are a no-go, it’s unbearable to look at your own naked body anymore. The school kept ringing your parents for your attendance, but the image of you stumbling home and bursting into tears is fresh in their minds; they let the calls go to voicemail.

 Tenko’s broken body. His screams of agony. Dabi’s hands all over you, Hawk’s feather holding you down, your body shifted and positioned like a ragdoll-it’s all too much, you can’t face anyone yet. You’re absolutely terrified.

 A knock at the door jolts you out of your catatonic state.

 “Honey? You want something to eat? We haven’t seen you come out today…” Your father’s voice trails off unsuredly, and after some harsh whispers coming from behind the door and scuffling sounds, your mother speaks.

“You need to move around sweetheart-”

 Your body jolts violently when she says that cursed nickname.

 “Ahh come on sweetheart, the worst is over.”

 “-did something happen with you and Tenko? You two haven’t talked in so long, you usually never argue like this.”

 A burning comes up in your chest as your stomach rumbles, bile rising up your throat. You want them to leave. Now.

 “I’ll-” you cough and clear your raspy voice from disuse. “I’ll be out in a bit, ‘head hurts.”

 “Are you sure? We can come get it for you, we don’t mind-”

 “-No, I’m fine. Please just...just give me some time.” You grit your teeth and squeeze your eyes shut, silently willing them to go away.

 It’s only until the sound of their footsteps padding away from your door that you rigidly rise out of bed, reaching for your phone on your nightstand.

 2 missed calls from Rumi, 3 text messages from Touya, and nothing from Tenko.

 Was he alive?

 With trembling hands, you punch in his contact and pull up your messages.

 3:04 pm: We need to talk.

 You sigh and throw the phone back on the table, running your hands down your face. You just wanted things to go back to normal, when you and him were okay, when you werent engaged to Touya, when they didn’t turn him into a monster who ate you out while you bounced up and down and up and fucking down on your rapist’s-

 No. You can’t think like that. You can’t. That wasn’t him, they made him do that.

 At least, that’s what you tell yourself in order for your sanity to remain on its barest of threads.

 Time moves at a snail’s pace as you find things to do that distract you from checking your messages every five minutes. Soggy leftovers are pushed through your throat, the t.v blares while you watch without actually seeing, your bedsheets are made and remade into perfection...but nothing prevents you in the end from snatching up the device and checking for his text.

Nothing. Absolutely nada.

 Just a “read” sign that makes you see red.

 Who the fuck did he think he was? He wasn’t the fucking vitcim, you were-

 Oh. But he was, just as much as you were.

 Anger curls into anxiety as you nibble your lip in contemplation. Was he mad at you?

 It was your fault in a way.

 You try calling him, no one picks up.

 If he was going to flat out ignore you, then you knew there was only one way to corner him for talking.

 And corner him you did, when on a bright Wednesday morning you decide to go to school, for nothing else if not hounding Tenko down and seeing if he was okay. You didn’t know if he deserved it, but you just had to see him once.

 You wait outside his front gate, idly watching the sky turn from a deep purple to mix in with hues of orange and blue. After a few minutes, the door creaks open and you whip around to face him.

 It’s only been a few days since you two last saw each other, but at that moment when he turns and his eyes go wide from seeing you, you feel as though you’ve never known him before. Not his tangly hair that hangs in front of his face, not the new bruises and bandages on various parts of his body, and not the sneer his mouth curls into, that is oh so reminiscent of-

 “Where have you been? You didn’t answer your phone…” You trail off confusedly as he practically shoves past you through the gate, ignoring the way you stumble from the impact of his bony shoulder.

 “Hey, wait up!”

 You do a light jog after him but your heart is pumping at light speed, uncertainty creeping up your spine at his behavior.

 “Tenko, stop!”

 “It’s Tomura, now, Tomura. Don’t call me by that dopey ass name anymore.” He stops in his tracks and looks down at you as you pant and stare at him.

 “T-Tomura? What’s that? And answer my question, where have you been?”

“Yeah, fucking Tomura Shigaraki to you. And I’ve been doing my own thing now. I’m not wagging my tail behind you like a fucking lapdog anymore, got it?” He shoulders his bag and continues to walk past you.

 “What the hell are you talking about? Why are you so upset at me, I didn’t even do anything!” You walk backwards side by side with him, desperately trying keep up with his curt pace.

 “Oh right, you’re just so innocent aren’t you? I should’ve left you from the start, honestly. Keigo was right.” “Keigo? When did you talk to him? He assaulted you! How could you even face him? “You say that as if he’s the one who made me like this.” He gestures to his barely healing body, and your breath catches in your throat.

 “Wait...you’re blaming me?”

 “Finally got it Einstein?” He sneers at you. “You did this to me, you made Keigo and Touya beat the shit out of me. If you had just listened to them and left me the fuck alone, I wouldn’t have suffered half as much as I already have.”

 You ball your fists and try to swallow the growing bulge in your throat. You thought your sanity would be kept intact for a while longer, but you feel the last threads barely hanging on.

 “Tenk-Tomura, please just wait a second,” You say desperately, not even thinking before grabbing onto his shirt sleeve. You want to hold him here forever, you want to go back, you want things to be the way they were before, he can’t leave you alone with Touya-

 “I’m glad they showed me how selfish you’ve always been. You never thought of my safety when you kept hanging around me knowing full well that they’d beat the shit out of me if they caught us. And they did! You happy now?” He’s laughing, but he can’t hide the rage from his balled shaking fists.

 “No, no please-” you whisper horrified.

 But he turns around, barely glancing back at you before bidding his adieu.

 “I’m saying goodbye to you as Tenko, and saying hello as Tomura now. Forget we were ever friends, it means nothing to me now. I used to feel like a burden to you, but it’s funny, you seem to be weighing me down more than ever now.”

 “But don’t worry. You’ll still see me around. After all, Keigo and Touya seem to be pretty solid guys. And hey, maybe I’ll even be the best man at your wedding coming up.”

 Your head is swimming. The sky is almost a clear blue now, the purple having faded away a long time ago. The sounds of strings stretching are brought to a climax.

 He’s so close, yet so far away from you that you barely catch the words that come tumbling out of his mouth so easily, so effortlessly you'd think he’d either rehearsed saying them all his life or that he’s had a lifetime of saying it.

 “I fucking hate you.”

 And the threads snap.

#tw:noncon #tw:bullying #tw:violence #tw:misogyny #tw:forced marriage #scumbag dabi #yandere dabi #dabi x reader #dabi smut #touya x reader #bnha touya #mha touya #bnha dabi #tenko x reader #shigaraki x reader #tenko bnha #tenko mha #bnha hawks #mha hawks #yandere hawks #bnha smut #bnha angst #mha smut

[uwu-co-in]

What majors 'Attack on Titan' characters would have in a college AU:

Source: My Majors

Word count: 1.2k

1. Eren: Low Observables and Stealth Technology

• Something tells me that Eren would be really interested in weaponry and technology as such related, but not immediately

• 100 on 10 I'd bet, his father was the one who admitted him to this course

• At first, when he'd join the classes, he'd probably whine about how much he hates the subject, but he'd start becoming interested in it when a veteran from the same area of expertise came up one day in college for a seminar

• Score incredibly low in his first semester exams but he'd then start seriously working hard behind it

2. Mikasa: Linguistics

• Being of mixed ethnicity, Mikasa would've been brought up in a household that speaks both the languages so that the children inculcate the cultural heritage

• Would've been fascinated by languages from a really young age, and wanted to learn about it's history

• Almost went to the Low Observables and Stealth Technology major as well, to keep Eren company, but stopped at the last moment when she realised Linguistics had been her dream all along and she should not abandon it for someone else

• One of the toppers. You cannot convince me otherwise. Writes really neat and pretty notes in her perfectly cursive handwriting

3. Armin: Oceanography

• This was nobody's surprise. Armin knew what he wanted from the moment he heard about 'oceanography' while doing a science project in sixth grade, and had been talking about it ever since

• Exceptionally well in the statistically part of the subject, loses marks only in the theories. He has promised to improve it even more

• On the contrary to what everyone thinks, Armin does NOT study all day. I mean, not exactly the subject. He does look up on stuff about ancient history, geographical findings, scientific experiments along with having a small library of his own at home. About his subject, he studies smart and bags all the highest grades

• Poor boy was exploited by many in his first year, for everyone took his notes yet did not want to hang out with him, but knows better now

4. Hange: Evolutionary Biology

• Hange was the kind of kid who would've been extremely curious about everything that moves on the Earth's surface and after passing high school, they knew they would take something related to biology, but were extremely confused between the two favourites: anthropology and evolutionary biology

• Chose the later, because apparently someone told them evolutionary biology has a lot of hands-on practicals

• Bunked theory classes a lot, and were once hence almost not allowed to sit for the exams in the first year by the college. After that, they diligently attend all the classes

• Party equally hard, so they are not always sitting in front of the books. Prefer reading from printed notes than hand-written ones

5. Levi: Bioethics/Medical Ethics

• Unlike most, Levi didn't really choose his major per se. It was more like he applied for a bunch of different majors in a bunch of different colleges. While he got accepted in most, he randomly picked this because he had to pick one of them anyways

• Hange jokes how they will do the mad evolutionary experiments, and would employ Levi for consultation whether the experiments would be ethical or not. They will be a team!

• Becomes absolutely engrossed in his self study time. He likes to really organise things before sitting down to study: his college notes, his own personal notebook where he has hand-written all of it, his laptop, his stationary, his green tea and butter biscuits

• Very diligent about deadlines; often gets praised from professors about his meticulous projects and practicals

6. Historia: Juvenile Corrections

• Historia has had a rough childhood with her father being absolutely out of the picture and suddenly re-emerging in her high school days. With a negligent mother, she knew how easy it was for a young child to resort to crimes and thus, had chosen the subject after quite a long period of deliberation

• Does group studies; has a nice friends group of about seven to eight people, all of whom hang out and study together

• Is an average student, but her heart is in the right place

• Can't study for too long, takes a lot of breaks in between her study sessions; claims that snacking helps her study more efficiently

7. Ymir: Physical Education teaching and coaching

• While everyone was sure Ymir will take up something a bit aloof of the academics, no one expected her to take up a major that would entail her being a teacher later on

• Curses the subject every single day, but loves it too much to change it

• Originally thought that it would be more games than studies, but oh boy, how wrong was she :')

• Not really a good student in the theory, but does outstanding in her practicals; has even got the offer of being a TA of one of the professors, because apparently, the teacher was impressed by her agility on the field

8. Bertholdt: Developmental and Child Psychology

• Originally wanted to go forth with an English major, but did not get in his favoured college, so opted for this at a momentary decision because it seemed interesting

• Started studying seriously very late, because initially he was a bit depressed on this sudden decision; psychology had never been a part of his plan and was still processing the fact that he could not get into his dream college, even though he worked hard for it

• Even though he was an introvert, made friends pretty quickly and started becoming really engrossed in the subject

• Would work closely with Historia in future because their subjects are very inter-related in terms of future job opportunities

9. Reiner: Peace Studies and Conflict Resolution

• Reiner was a jock throughout his entire school life, and his choice of subject had his mother falling of her chair when she heard about it. His father, who had recently re-united with his mother, tried to butt in, but Reiner had firmly declared his decision

• Truthfully speaking, Reiner had wanted to choose Juvenile Corrections as his major to be closer to Historia, but didn't make the cut for it. Instead, he opted for this in the same college

• While feelings for Historia slowly dwindled, he seemed to have a newfound love for the subject. As an immigrant himself, he found the subject very close to his heart

• A bit better than average, he is more interested in the academic aspect of the major than those pertaining to an actual job

10. Annie: Nuclear Engineering

• It was during submission of college forms that Annie heard of this subject. It's calculations, experiments and would pay well one day is what she told everyone

• Always frustrated about how she couldn't score more than the the topper of the class (please take a break, sweetheart :')

• Would sit quietly while her father brags about how his daughter has chosen one of the most complex subjects to ever exist, and has been acing it with ease. Only she knows the mental exasperation she faced everytime she gets a score lower, because she wants to strive for perfection

• Drinks a lot of caffiene, to help her stay awake at night

(part 2)

#aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot college au #college au #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #armin arlert #hange zoë #levi ackerman #historia reiss #ymir #bertholdt hoover #reiner braun #annie leonhardt #aot headcanons #anime headcanons