#these things should be taught to kids but when you muddle things up and try and make it seem simple and like an issue of personal relationsh

[saturdaysky]

Time-traveling Caleb meets Essek as a child please.

(from the ask me about my WIP meme)

This WIP was one of the first things I wrote when I decided I wanted to learn to write late last year!

It began as a snippet I was writing for a prompt in the big Essek discord, something along the lines of “kid Essek proposes marriage to Caleb” -- pretty fluffy, lighthearted, and cute. Naturally this meant I plotted something bittersweet about love and the grief for selves who never were and whom we no longer have a chance to be.

The premise: Sometime in the future, Essek and Caleb are together and have developed a spell that allows temporary travel to a decayed or decaying timeline. Caleb uses it and accidentally winds up much further back in time than intended, where he meets Essek as a child. Young Essek is lonely and hides Caleb on the Thelyss estates for a week or so while Caleb rides out the spell. From there, it’s a character study as Caleb gets to know Essek in his early life.

I don’t know if I’ll finish this one. Reading through it, if I returned to it I’d want to rewrite most of it since I understand writing and these characters a little better now. So who knows! Have part of 2 scenes. :)

Scene: One hour before the spell ends and the timeline decays for good

At the sound of Caleb’s footsteps in the courtyard, Essek turns slowly to face him, posture exactingly correct in a way that speaks of both practice and nerves. He inclines his head and folds his hands in formal greeting, the grace of the gesture falling a little awkwardly on his small frame.

“Master Widogast,” he begins, and then stops. Takes a shallow breath. “I know you are to depart today. I- I wished to speak with you before you are gone.”

His tone reaches for the chilly gravitas of his mother, but a muddled panic lurks around the edges of his words. Caleb returns the formal greeting, but lets his lips curve into a friendly smile. “I am here to listen. What would you ask of me?”

The lines of Essek’s shoulders ease a fraction. He drifts over, ignoring the whorls of the tiled labyrinth below in favor of making a line straight to Caleb. He stops a foot and a half away, as close as etiquette allows, and fidgets, one hand twisting the edge of a sleeve.

“I...there is a parting gift I wished to give you.” Essek’s small fingers shake a little as he draws the line to open his wristpocket. The spell takes and he lets out a satisfied hum as a small black codex tumbles into his hands.

“I made this,” he says, pride suffusing his voice. His courteous smile brightens into unguarded excitement, before fading into something small and hesitant. “It is for you. I know you are going far away somewhere, so...so in case you need to study the floating spell I taught you, I thought you might wish for reference.”

He thrusts the book up at Caleb. “Do not show anyone. Ah, Verin said I should not have told you things at all and I could get in trouble, so maybe keep it secret.”

Caleb turns the object over in his hands. It’s a small booklet of notes on dunamancy, written in a child’s scrawl. Essek has written out the directions for the cantrip that lets him float, each step of the spell thoroughly but ineptly diagrammed. Here and there in the margins are poorly-drawn creatures it takes Caleb a moment to realize are cats.

No, Caleb realizes, not cats: cat. All of them are Frumpkin, and all of them have been drawn with the earnest appreciation of a young boy who has seen exactly one cat in his entire life and is making up for lost time. 

Caleb traces a finger over the drawings, despair catching at his throat. He wants nothing more than to gather this desperately lonely child into his arms and shield him from the future that will turn him jaded and cruel, that will rip out this tender heart and replace it with callous intent.

But he can’t. He can’t save this Essek. This young echo will be gone forever in an hour. Caleb swallows the lump in his throat.

“You are very kind, Master Thelyss,” he says a little hoarsely. “It was an honor to be your student.”

Scene: Caleb returns from the spell

“Welcome back.” Essek’s silhouette is bent over the desk in front of him as he scratches out notes on a large piece of vellum, but he straightens and glances in Caleb’s direction. His sleeves are rolled up and there is a bit of ink smudged on his nose Caleb is sure he doesn’t know is there.

“Hallo,” Caleb says, meeting Essek’s eyes. They are worried and lovely, and a little tired. 

Essek scans Caleb’s body, as if checking to make sure he has all the same appendages he left with. Satisfied, he lets a lopsided smile curl over his face.

“Hallo,” he replies. “That was longer than expected. Did you find the information you were looking for?”

“I did, eventually.”

Essek's eyes narrow, gaze assessing. He sets the pen down on the desk, and turns to fully face Caleb. “But…?”

There is no point in hiding it. “The spell took me back further than intended. I also met you there. As a child.” Shock briefly paints itself on Essek’s face.

“Ah. Unexpected, I-  Well,” he says, slim, dark fingers twisting over themselves once before falling still, “I’m sure that was an enlightening experience.” Essek’s voice is light and carefully neutral. By degrees, his smile evens out, grows soft and pleasant. Opaque. Untouchable.

It is the last thing Caleb wants to see right now. 

He crosses the floor and Essek looks up at him, eyes shuttered. Caleb cups his face and guides him into a kiss, soft at first, merely comforting himself with Essek’s presence. Essek leans into it. Comfort for the two of them, maybe.

Caleb is good at kissing, and over the last decade, he’s made a dedicated effort to be good at kissing Essek, specifically. He nips at a lower lip and deepens the kiss, drawing a decidedly unchaste noise from Essek. It soothes something in Caleb to hear it, this spark of passion beneath the mask. After a moment, fingers curl into Caleb’s shirt.

Caleb pulls back and whispers into Essek’s ear, pleased to feel him shiver in response. “You were quite the, ah, charmer. You offered your hand in marriage. Scandalous.”

Essek lets out an undignified little snort that charms Caleb to his bones. “I should think I have made my desire for you quite clear in the present. Do not try to play me against my child self, Widogast.” As if to emphasize the point, his fingers slide from Caleb’s chest, over his sides, and onto his back with deliberate slowness. Caleb doesn’t even try to repress his own shiver, and he can feel the resulting smugness radiating from Essek.

“You also taught me to float. You were a very enthusiastic teacher.”

“Did I?” Amusement drips from Essek’s voice. “It is handy for you that you figured that one out yourself years ago.”  Over Essek’s shoulder, Caleb can see the notes and diagrams he’s working on. All letters and lines are crisp and precise; not a single wasted mark. There is no hint of embellishment here, Caleb sees. There are no more earnest drawings.

He buries his face in the crook where Essek’s neck meets his shoulder, taking in the comforting, familiar scent of him. Essek shifts to allow him better access, and Caleb breathes him in, letting grief settle in his chest.

After a moment, Essek’s fingers begin to trace lightly across his back, drawing comforting and repetitive patterns. Spell runes, Caleb realizes, and closes his eyes.

You were an earnest child, he does not say, and so achingly desperate for connection that you hid a strange mage in your house and taught him your favorite spell. He does not say, you were kind and you still had hope when you were young. You still talked to your brother. You loved magic like a friend, and no blood stained your hands for it.

Essek knows. Essek does not welcome pity, and Caleb cannot blame him for it. Caleb does not welcome it either.

#asks #my writing #sky learns to write 2k21 #essek thelyss #caleb widogast #shadowgast #catalists #the cool thing about being pretty new at this whole writing business is that you can look back at stuff you wrote and see how much better #you understand what you're doing now than you did then! even if there's certainly still a far distance to go i'm new enough that each step #feels like a big one :)

[blufox234isadumbname]

dream (XD, maybe?) visits fundy in his dreams. it's the only thing making them bearable, and keeping him sane

:)

Nobody [inspired by a mitski song]

Many make mistakes, Fundy was one of them. He just wanted to make sure Yoghurt was safe that night, what with more mobs emerging from the south. He just wanted to tuck his kid and make sure he slept better than him. With kiddish purrs becoming white noise, he should've stopped himself when he felt his lids flutter, when his bed dipped and he saw the house go black.

The fox-hybrid opened his eyes, already letting the horror sink in before opening the damn door. It was all over again, he thought he was getting better. No. He was a fool, still a foolish fox. Yoghurt was no longer by his side, and he already started to feel sweltering heat entering the home. Fundy's heart already ached, already sore. His breaths were heavy, weighted over him as he laid in the dreaded empty bed. Tears were beginning to form but he blinked and rubbed them harshly away. Just close your eyes, he thought. But he knew better, wishes could never be reality. He just wanted it to be over, so he had to do it himself. Fundy always had to do everything himself anyways, this was no different.

He got up and readjusted his black breton cap. Steady and stalwart, steps crept towards and stopped in front of the door. Twisting the knob, a final breath was heaved before the same scenery greeted the displeasured fox. He became familiar with the barren land, covered by only hot dry sand and tall cacti. The winds seemed to be strong that dream, dust clouds were choking the poor dreamer. He closed the door behind him, noticing his red tail hung low. First thing was first, he left the area of his house to find anything out of place. It was instinct to try and spot something that stuck out like a sore thumb, besides his little spruce wood cottage.

Fundy sank his naked feet into the sand, burning his padded paws. He trudged along in a random direction, which was wherever the barest clouds were drifting opposite from. That's all he did for a couple of minutes, maybe more than half an hour to him. Prime, he hated how the sun was bright, how the sunshine was a glaring spot above him. He hated to stare at the dull sky for any second longer. He hated winds dusting the sand into his eyes. All of it was n eyesore, metaphorically and litterally.

He just continued onward, awaiting any subtle and not-so-subtle ghostly remnants of his history coming back to haunt. To be reminded of why his life sucked, that was surely fun, right? He wanted a break, a detour from the disaster that was him. For not the first time, he wanted to be elsewhere. Not just in the dream but in reality. Yes, Las Nevadas was the haven he wanted it to be. But that came with the cost of having his dreadfully undead father closer to him. As if he wanted a chance to be mocked and haunted. Even more so, Tubbo and Ranboo causing a commotion with Quackity already had set him at unease. Threats towards a nation he called a home, a lovely return to the cycle. Like dirty water from the sea to acid rain in the clouds, it's become the same horrid cycle.

Speaking of clouds, the fox-hybrid looked up. The smallest gathering of clouds became a crowd of them all across a brighter baby blue canvas. The yucky yellow sand turned a grassier green. If he squinted, he could maybe see the blooms of other than cactus flowers. Finally, a reason for the feet under him to pick up their pace. Fundy kept running towards the green, faster and faster as he could taste them with his fingers. As soon as he was near enough, he dived right into the fresh field. A little mistake, per usual, as he began rolling down a knoll all of a sudden. Through the short wild grass into a taller field of lavender and peonies, the fox finally took a deep breath. A clean and relaxed breath-

"Hello, Fundy."

- before it hitched.

Fundy lifted his head up above the flowers to spot a cleared spot. In the patch of cornflowers and poppies, a naked area of just grass lay, with a figure. He knew it well, with the dirty blonde hair - though he never remembered it being at scruffy and shoulder length - and deadly smile-painted mask adorned. In a lime, white and black letterman jacket over a starkingly orange jumpsuit. He knew that man well, even by the soft humming. The blank eyes of the mask and the man behind to stared at the fox-hybrid. If it weren't a nightmare yet, Fundy figured it just started.

"How are you here?" The hoodied man asked

"Don't...don't even talk to me..." The overcoated fox snarled with teeth bared and tail puffed.

Dream huffed, toying with something in his hands.

"I just asked. The dreamscape is not normally so free reign. For you, you're the least I expected to be able to cross barriers of mind."

"What the fuck are you talking about. Why are you here? What, to haunt me? To mock me? To tell me I'm useless?"

"...To make flower crowns"

He held up said piece of rope strung with flower blooms. His was a cornflower and daisy crown.

"That...that's it?"

"Can you control your dreams?"

"That...it's none of your business, Dream."

"I'm assuming no. But you are willingly seeing me. So in that case, I suppose I can tell you. You know I was imprisoned, in that big ol' prison? Anyway, a being gave me a wish, or rather a gift. I could control my own dreams, I could lucid dream whenever I wanted to. So I could stay in prison while still feeling the grassy field. So I'm here."

"You don't...get nightmares? NOS Cary reminders of your past? Nothing scary?" *And while I do?*, Fundy doesn't add on. Dream pauses for a break. before he answers

"How could I? I control every aspect of my dream. Though you are certainly not part of it. I appreciate the company, kinda? But I'd rather not keep it. It's be nice if I just asked that dream being to remove you-"

"NO!"

"Excuse me?"

"P-Please...I-I don't wanna go back..."

He hated how his voice became frail at the drop of a hat, how his ears flattens and how shaky his hands became. Already begging to a tyrant, the same one who's destroyed everything in his life. What Fundy had begged was true, however, he didn't not want to go back to nightmares. This was the only time the dreams felt good. Albeit muddled by a lime menace, it was better than the frightening things ahead did him. The fox heard the man sigh.

"Sure, sure you can stay."

"Thank you..."

Fundy sat down in front of Dream, criss-cross legged. And the two were silent. The dreamer kept weaving in the flowers in the rope while the intruder simply watched. His clawed hands picked at the grass blades. Admittedly he enjoyed the scenery, if it weren't for the horror of a man in front of him. He noticed the excess rope tossed aside and something in Fundy urged him to use it too. He could tell eyes were on him again even from behind the unmoving mask.

"Yes, you can make flower crowns too. You know how to make one?"

"Y-yeah. Niki taught me how to make one with rope. I made hers with alliums. She gave me one made out to tulips" Fundy chuckled at the memory fondly.

Dream paid no mind just gave Fundy the extra rope and returned to his own project. After that, the quietness continued for much longer. But Fundy was never a fan of long silences.

"...Why a field? Out of flowers? I didn't know you were into this kind of stuff."

Dream paused for a minute, seemingly deliberating. He room a breath and spoke;

"It's just me wanting to relive old memories. Before settling in the SMP, me and George went to a flower field. We just spent half the say there doing jack all."

"It's always George is it?"

"... he's my friend. I'd do anything for him."

"Even terrorising a nation? Even threatening a kid? Even dethroning him?"

"..."

The silence spoke volumes. Fundy knew he overstepped, but it was hard for him to be sympathetic over it. He swore the surroundings looked dimmer for a second.

"I miss him. I'm no longer allowed visitors and even then, he never came by to visit."

"Who did?"

"Sapnap. Bad. Tommy, surely you know. Then Technoblade."

"Wait Techno visited you?"

"Less visit and more just made a new space in my jail cell. It's like a vacation to him. I'm not mad but...I like here better anyway."

"What's it like? In the jail cell."

"Tight. Closed. Hot. And I mean scorching. It's surrounded by lava. Barely much room to move around, not much there. I do have books to write in but so far I have started writing none."

"Someone hasn't been productive, I see?"

"I liked to write stuff. Just random things. But in a cramped space...I can't. I see why people are claustrophobic. It's feel like hell in there...for more than just the lava."

Fundy started to feel a twinge of a heat wave on his back as he stuck a flower into the rope. It died down shortly after.

"Since you're asking me questions. It should be fair I ask you."

"That's...yeah, that's fair."

"What were you doing, before you slept?"

"In bed. Just...alone in my cottage. Far away with no one else." Fundy lied, no matter the somewhat friendly tone, he wasn't ever going to risk Yoghurt.

"I thought you had Eret? Or Niki? I thought maybe you guys stay in at Least a neighbourhood."

"I...I haven't spoken to either in so long. I think they forgot about me. That's...fair"

"Hmm..."

Before I slept I was just building m stuff in Las Nevadas. It's...it's a thing Quackity built. I can't say more than that-"

A roar of something, not too loud but enough to be noticeable, came through. It spooked Fundy well enough.

"Dream what-"

"Let's...not talk about that."

"Well, what else is there to talk about me? I have nothing else. That...that palace is all I got going for me honestly."

"I thought you had more."

"No. After L'manburg, all of it gone, I don't have much else. By who, I wonder?I didn't care, that was fine by me until I did something different. I'm making sure I have a place, at least."

"Like a house?"

Fundy twisted the stalk gently, silently.

"Like a place of belonging. Where I can be remembered and people know where I am."

"I get that..."

"Of course you do, you tyrant. Your name is sure to be famous."

"Not the being remembered part. The belonging part."

The clouds seemed heavier at that moment.

"Find it hard to believe coming from the same guy that he cares for no one but a kid's discs."

"I know what I said, Fundy. But I don't care about the discs. I care about having control. Having everything in my hands. To take strings of the marionette and play them by my fingers. That's what I aim for, not just useless material discs."

"What does this have to do with belonging?"

The roar came back, a roar of thunder.

"The puppet master is not a puppet. He cannot be a puppet. When the puppets go free, he is left for dead..."

Dream's scarred hands clutch the half done green tulip crown. Down a drop goes from the petal. Then another, then another. Fundy looks up, to see the trickles. Down the drops of precipitation go to his face. Fundy's chest felt heavy, clebtched by something in a grip. He saw Dream looking up as well. From the angle he could partially see the bottom features under the mask. A pursed mouth with scars on his lips. Dottings of freckles across his cheeks. Streaks of not raindrops reaching down his chin. He heard the hiccups, the struggle to compose oneself. He knew that too well. Fundy found the part to care about as he stroked Dream's forearm carefully.

"I-I'm sorry, It's...I-I'm never like this. I'll just change-" the masked man's voice was breakable, cusp of falling apart.

"No. I like the rain."

Dream looked back to Fundy. It was true, the fox-hybrid liked rain. He used to play in the puddles as it drizzled even into adulthood, before more important things occupied his time. Like getting weapons for war or spying on a president. Fundy had on a solemn smile, a weak one in the likeable weather. His hair and fur became bristled whislt his tail wrapped unconsciously around him.

"I feel alone too. Everyone has left me

The people that I care about always hate me or leave. They leave me frightened in a place where everything so to survive. I'm barely staying alive as is. I don't have anyone."

"I don't have anyone either. I'm heartless, I pushed them away. Techno is with me, yeah. But what happens then? I'm too scared to find out. All I want is to just be free..."

Fundy laughed a bit. He tossed aside the half-effort flower crown and stood up. He opened his arms wide, further than his shoulders. He kept laughing, giggling, wheezing over. He raked a hand through ginger and snow white locks of his, knocking back his black breton cap.

"What's so funny?"

"Well, one, it's already crazy you're telling me all of this. This all feels like stuff you'd suppressed hard. Even in your dreams. And secondly...god, I wish we talked more sooner."

"What?"

"You and me, both alone in this world. We're unlovable. Reckless bastards we are. I'm not the worst like you but by Prime, I'm just as lonely as you. I can't excuse reving Wilbur and the 16th...but maybe we could've been friends."

He knew dream was smiling, not from the mask but from the small line of daylight peeking through the clouds.

"Fundy, I could never be friends with you. I'd push you away too."

"Then don't push me away now. I'm desperate, man."

"...I wouldn't."

Fundy smiled a glint of the sun right back at Dream. For once in a dream, he was at ease. The pouring rain slowed s little down to a drizzle, enough fro him to avoid smelling of dog water. The clouds journeyed away from the meadow, and let the sun's smile through. He loved the rays of sunshine gracing his face above him. He loved he could stare at the cloud-scattered sky for almost hours. He loved the winnow through the grass that made them dance. He loved it there.

"Sorry about the rain. In my dreams, I rarely can talk to anyone. And techno is not exactly the most relatable with what I have. Outside, I keep it in. But where I am, where we are, is inside me already."

"Fun to know this is the inner machinations of the terror Dream."

"Hehehah"

"...I probably won't remember this happend. When I wake I won't have a clear thought of events. Just so you'd know."

"It's fine. I knew you wouldn't anyway. That's why I let most of it out. That and because, I feel like I can trust you. I can't leave my cell but maybe someday I'll find you again. And maybe-"

A click from behind Dream's head could be heard. He moved his hand latched onto the mask and pulled it down. There he was, gentle scarred smile with even gentler eyes, covered by dirty blonde turning silver white to the tips. Irises coloured almost like emerald and aqua ender eyes looked back to the fox. Finally, his black tipped ears lifted and twitched, and his tail was wagging slightly.

"-we could be alone together again?"

Fundy's heart ached, sore already.

"I'd like to. For now, let's just depend on dreams."

"I can work with that."

Dream tossed his mask aside, uncaring and apathetic to the piece of porcelain disguise. He gently pushed Fundy by the tip of his finger, to which the former feign to be toppled. He fell in the middle of the tall peonies and lavenders and tulips. Dream joined a second after, right next to Fundy. Bliss, this is what he Fundy would call it. He felt less tensed, less mangled on fear. He had spent sleeping hours just shaken, because his fears conquered him alone. Taunting him because he was alone. Preyed on every part of him alone. But now he had a chance, to dwell int eh shrot grass, be crowned royalty in a field of flowers and feel less on his own. Fundy closed his eyes, as the smell of morning dew hit him.

And he woke up, lied curled up next to Yoghurt. And with a flower in his palm. A rose. He already wants to sleep, no matter the chance of being in the desert again. He wants to see the sunshine in the field of flowers more than anything.

#fundy #itsfundy #dreamwastaken #fundywastaken #dream SMP #dsmp #dsmp fic #i guess #request #my god i had this idea float aroudn in my head for so .logn and now it has rraurfaced in my mind #thank you???? #iys a bit dialouge heavy #ita late and this was on my phoen jsnteas of on desktop #sjdnejdn so sorry ifnitis shit

[kicktwine]

@renatogpadilla : What about baby Ven headcanons from the Age of Fairy Tales? Or current day Ven with Chirithy back and training with Kairi? I imagine having been a part of Sora for so long makes him want to protect Kairi like crazy, but it's VEN, so maybe it doesn't go that well... (Wether it's because the Daybreak Town issues hit them like a ton of Bricks or because Kairi legit wants her own adventure and accomplishments is anyone's guess... Regardless, Chirithy sus)

(vibrates) small ventus this got long my sincerest apolocheese

this goes hand in hand with my daybreak hcs so i think small ven has no concept of private gardens. Daybreak town had communal gardens/agriculture, and the LoD had their gardens and the market near town, and he barely went to the second one so if that boy sees a fruit tree. He's going to take one.

also my FAVOURITE HC thats now supported by khux is that ven Did not Learn how to Read Modern Script until about a year into staying with Eraqus. Ancient text he can read, but Xehanort didn't give him books, and hundreds of years have passed and language has evolved he has no idea what this sign says. Aqua gives him her YA fantasy novels like magic treehouse. vanitas can't read either

he was also just, Extremely nervous a lot... if we had anxiety medication in the age of fairytales he'd be on some. Not only as like, an insecurity thing (because this kid is the most insecure little man--) but also he startles easily and his brain often goes to the worst outcome. He's not necessarily a pessimist, he's very excited when things go right and when there's New Stuff to see!!!!! He often thinks the best of people he hasn't gotten to know!! but that also makes him think he's the one with issues, not someone that might be rude to him. the kid has inattentive adhd leave him be there are also no medications for that -- but he's doing better now that there are older kids who taught him coping methods that work.

He also Definitely played down how darn powerful he was because he didn't want to like, brag, or was afraid the other kids were obviously stronger than he was. The other dandies are STRONG, but Ven didn't have much going on socially, so training/missions was his go-to. khux ven wasn't allowed to be awake during th finale bc he would have gone ham

also wasn't allowed bc the Darkness he ate still had a sentience if not a heart and it hadn't gone thru time and gotten muddled yet so it would not have gone well

Ven Loves weather as a Thing that exists, he loves when it snows and rains and thunderstorms and he would and still does dash outside in that thunderstorm just to be in it. Ventus you will catch a cold. its worth it!!!

when he wakes up he sometimes has a hard time remembering when and where he is, or what he's doing. Sometimes his brain just says hey! We're back home ten years ago, go look for the master :] or hey we're supposed to be asleep go to sleep. it really messes with him he doesn't like it, he'd never experienced something like a sleep paralysis hallucination before and dislikes it Immensely

UM I THINK, I think actually that he and Kairi are buds and they totally see eye to eye! Both fulla light, kind of treated like glass by their best friends, both very interested in being part of something though while Ven is very into traveling and safeguarding the worlds Kairi is taking the Riku route and is into protection mostly for her close confidants. She doesn't care much about The Big Picture, she cares about her friends. They would hang out and like, shake hands and agree not to hold back on each other (well, mostly, Kairi is still learning and Ven is nearly at Mastery level) when sparring or just talking. I feel like if they had to be careful talking to other people, they wouldn't have to with each other. I just think they're fwends and they play extreme uno together... Ven has Huge protective instincts for Sora, like, fully big brother instincts him, but Kairi visited for a little bit a while ago and he kind of "watched over" her little sleeping heart during that time, knowing that Sora was keeping her safe just like he did for him. ventus loves sora to absolute death and sora doesnt even know the full extent of it

anyways yeah chirithy sus but i give it a kiss on the head just don't do anything drastic and i will still love u you sweet sweet kitty cat . how are u affecting your keybearer is he like, good, mentally, with you around,

i cannot Wait until this kid starts remembering things. I think Namine should help. I think that maybe he should realize half his memories are with Vanitas and hysterically try to find him to get them back

i also think ven has taller energy than the rest of the heart hotel. sora/vanitas/roxas/xion are 5'2" (CANONICALLY? YOURE SHORT?) (vanitas is 5'4" with the heels), ven is 5'5", Namine is 5'7". they r all still growing a little but their heights will remain in this order

#soft spot for chirithy........... #ask #kipspeak #kh #ah. yeah that got long #SYNDROME VOICE YOU GOT ME MONOLOGUING #YOU CAUGHT ME INFODUMPING YOU SLY DOG #khux #Metazone

[dollfaced-erin]

Not So New Afterall (Sdv Sebastian x F!Reader)

A/n: and i thought this was gonna be a short chapter. There was lots more I wanted to include, but it might bore you guys from the looooong story!! (s if it wasn’t already long in the first place.)

CHAPTER FOUR

The game was set up, and both players stood at their point. Clutching the cue stick tightly in her hand, Sebastian briefly explained the rules to the new girl. She knew the main basics of the game, but she wasn’t sure if she would be able to beat Sebastian. Not while he was looking as smug as he was now.

It was sure who had the most experience here.

Being a good sport, Sebastian gave her the first turn to hit the cue ball. The said female scattered all the balls across the board. Turns began exchanging between the two competitors, and the spectators by the side were literally on their toes.

“What’s got Sebastian so worked up all a sudden?” Abigail said, whispering into Sam’s ear. The blonde shrugged, speechless towards Sebastian’s sudden change from his signature cold and reserved to jealous and competitive.

“Is it because (Y/n) came and everyone liked her?” Sam asked, pulling out one of the most logical reasons he could find. Abigail shook her head, “I don’t think he’ll be affected by that. Was it something between Robin or Maru, perhaps?”

Sam really had no idea. “I really have no idea, but that actually makes sense, or he just wants to show off his moves,” he whispered again. “But do you remember how Sebastian started playing pool?” he asked the dyed- haired girl.

“Quite long ago, actually. It was when we were still kids. Probably when the old farm had the owner before (Y/n). You remember the old man had...a relative was it? And he taught us how to play pool with...that...girl,” Abigail trailed off, her thoughts and memories muddled up in her mind. 

“He really liked to play pool after being taught. Especially when he played around with the girl. Kept playing even though she already left till he became the him now,”

“Really? I don’t really remember, but it must’ve that far away. I think the time you’re talking about was when I just moved here,” Sam replied. “Little girl, you said?” he asked her once more.

“Hm..it seems vague to me, but it feels like a dream too.”

The players ignored the topic the two were discussing, currently trying to focus on their game of pool. But apparently the topic was quite sensitive to Sebastian, making him accidentally hit cue ball too hard, resulting the white ball going off the board and smacking (Y/n) square in her right collarbone.

“Ah!” the girl yelped in pain, her features morphing into one of shock. Sebastian was shocked with what happened and immediately placed the cue stick down, rushing over to the girl he accidentally injured. 

The two gasped at the commotion and leapt of their seats, heading towards the girl. She was wincing slightly at the pain, but most likely from the shock.

“I’m sorry, are you okay?!” he bombarded her with questions, grabbing the arm he hit, pulling the collar of her shirt slightly to get a better look at the injury. He winced. It was starting to redden, most likely about to bruise.

The loud thump from collision of the heavy ball and the bone and the gasps from the game room raised suspicion from the others in the main hall. Even over the music, (Y/n) could grasp the number of eyes being turned in her direction.

“It’s okay! It doesn’t hurt at all!” (Y/n) assured, panicking at the crowd of friends that started to swarm her. This isn’t good. If word gets out from the others in the main hall of the Saloon, who knows what mean rumors would spread out.

“Are you su--” “Let’s take five, alright? Boy, I think I need a drink!” (Y/n) said a little too loudly and off. Abigail realized her eyes were wide and her skin was paling. Her earlier frown was stretching into a stiff smile. 

As things began to settle down once more, the (h/c) girl went to the vending machine and pulled out a grape-flavored fizzy drink. Popping the lid, spun around, glancing at the main hall as she did. Less eyes have been looking at her now. She sighed and unscrewed the cap of the drink, making her way to the bright red sofa Sam previously sat on.

“Come on, guys!” Abigail called, making a face at the males’ questionable expressions, signaling that they should go on with what she had started. Abigail was a quick one to catch on, following the suit and plopping herself on the blur sofa next to (Y/n).

Resting her right arm on the plush armrest, she raised an eyebrow at the guys who hadn’t moved an inch. Sam blinked before letting out a boisterous laugh, heading over to the girls, sitting next to Abigail, the latter bouncing from the force used to sit on the sofa.

Sebastian sighed and tailed after Sam, sitting next to (Y/n), since that was literally the only empty spot left. Guilt was eating away at him, especially when he looked at the angry red mark that imprinted itself on the delicate bone.

“Sorry, Sebastian,” the girl apologized, making Sebastian raise an eyebrow at her sudden apology. “You know that I’m the one that has to apologize, right? But why’d you pretend you were okay?” he asked, leaving the two speechless.

“Bold of you to assume I’m not okay,” the girl said, making all of them crack up at her reference on a certain homework meme. “No really,” Sebastian spluttered between laughs. “Anyways, why’d you do that?”

“I realized that when you crowded me, lots of eyes started to turn. Like, I didn’t want any commotion, not when I’ve just moved here. Sounds cliche, but I am afraid that people will talk bad about you,” she said, a small smile on her face. “I’ve had enough experience with gossip and crowds.”

Sebastian behind (Y/n) wasn’t any better. He looked as if guilt was about to eat him alive. He never knew his strength would accidentally hurt her directly. It’s time he man up for the consequences.

“Anyways, how is your collarbone?” asked the dark-haired male, making the female turn over to him. “Here, let me take a look,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

(Y/n) seemed to have froze at this point. Not even daring to do so much than breathe. Earlier she had the confidence to push him off since there were so many eyes on them, but now? Now she’s just stuck in place as she finally processed that...that...he’s actually touching her!

“Are you sure it doesn’t hurt?” he asked as he tugged the collar of the shirt, getting a closer look at the forming bruise. “Y-yeah!” (Y/n) said, averting her gaze as an embarrassed smile made its way on her lips and her face burned red hot.

Holding the shirt down with his left hand, his right lightly stroked over the internal injury, pressing it slightly with a finger. The pressure made the girl yelp in pain, and he panicked asking over and over if she was alright. 

As much as Abigail was amused with all this, she couldn’t help but feel a little jealous at how he could casually touch the (h/c) girl. She was friends with her first, and she wasn’t about to back off easily.

Deciding to ditch the game they were playing, they called it a night. Robin popped up ‘round the corner. “Sebby! Me and Demetrius are heading back first!” she chirped before her green eyes landed on the farmer. 

“Oh! While you’re at it, maybe walk (Y/n) home! It’s dangerous at night!” she said, nodding over to (Y/n) before she left with her husband...and four speechless young adults.

“It can’t be helped, then,” Sebastian sighed. “(Y/n), Abigail, lets go,” he said, getting up as the two females followed the suit, leaving the place with Sam behind them.

It was a kind of routine, where they’ll part at the Saloon, Sebastian dropping of Abigail at Pierre’s before making his way back home up in the mountains. It used to make him have a...uncomfortable feeling in his stomach, where he’d feel all...embarrassed and flustered. But now? Now he just felt...neutral towards her. Like...he had no feelings for her anymore. He didn’t have ‘the one’ feeling anymore.

But the silence between him and (Y/n) as he walked her back...it was...content. It wasn’t awkward like he initially thought it was. Scratch it. He felt that this was quite nice. A quite walk in the night, no words needed between them, no awkward silence, just....peaceful. But something was bothering his mind.

“Hey, (Y/n),” he started, just as the two had parted ways with Abigail. The girl let out a hum, ensuing him to continue. “I think I’m the only one who noticed, but...when Abby and Sam started to crowd you, you seemed quite...scared,” the girl visibly tensed. “If it’s not too much, what’s up?”

(Y/n) let out a nervous laugh as they walked through the dark bus stop. “Ah, you’re quite sharp, aren’t you?” she remarked. “But...I’ve had my fair share of gossips and crowds. And maybe...they were bad experiences for me. I felt so...not pathetic, but...suffocated,” she trailed off, only to flip back to Sebastian. “I don’t mean that you guys were suffocating! I meant--”

“You meant that the atmosphere of people watching was suffocating, wasn’t it?” he finished for her, making her look down and nod in agreement. The light of the farmhouse began to enter their vision. 

As the two climbed the porch of the house, Sebastian placed a hand on her shoulder once more. “Before I go back, I want to see the bruise once more. Is that okay?” he asked, and the girl nodded.

The two entered the home, and it was a whole lot tidier than the last time Sebastian stepped into the wooden structure. Unlike the last time, it was cold and dusty, but now, it was bright and warm. Almost inviting. For a person who lives in the basement, he wasn’t sure which one he preferred.

(Y/n) shrugged of the jacket and sat on the chair located in the middle of the room, tucked next to a dining table. Sebastian took his eyes off his surroundings and approached the (h/c) girl. Like before, he nudged the collar of the shirt off of her shoulder to get a better look. “I’ll get some ointment for you tomorrow, (Y/n). Sorry again,” he said.

“You don’t need to, Sebby,” she said before she shut her mouth with her hand. “I’m sorry. That was really rude of me. Anyways, this is a pinch unlike the monsters in the caves!” she laughed off, waving her hand. 

That’s when Sebastian saw a faint scarred line dragged around the tip of her shoulder to her back, concealed by her clothing. He stepped forward, grabbing her shoulder once more. An old scar.

“Where’d you get this, (Y/n)?” he said, referring to the scar that imbedded itself into her joint. He really wasn’t one to go on about something small. So what if she had scars here and there? It couldn’t matter to him. She could’ve been injured a while back, right?

 But this...was something he had seen before. And it was in his nightmare. Even before she moved here. But if he remembered right, then the girl in his dream...

“I...I got it when I was a kid. Long time ago really. Doctor said it should go away soon,” she said, a bright smile on her face. But that didn’t satisfy Sebastian. “I said, where did you get this, (Y/n)?” he said, his grip on her shoulder tightening slightly.

(Y/n) trembled in fear at his sudden change of attitude. Panic swirled in her chest. He wasn’t like this. This was so rare of him. “I...I was in an accident when I was younger,” she said. And to him, that was enough.

Sebastian moved (Y/n)’s bangs a little to reveal a jagged line from the hairline and led on into a thin straight line. He knew it. But it couldn’t be the same person in his dream. The girl in his dream died. And he never knew her name or anything.

“Sorry for overstepping, (Y/n)” Sebastian said, releasing her limb, realizing how hard he grabbed her. “I’ll be on my way now,” he said as he turned around. (Y/n) thought that she might’ve triggered him, but Sebastian replied, “If you want, come over to my room tomorrow before 10. I’ll be on my way to Sam’s then,” he said before ultimately leaving.

“Night, (Y/n). Sweet dreams.”

#stardew-valley-x-reader #sdv sebastian #stardew valley #sebastian (stardew valley) #sebastian x reader #sebastianxreader #reader insert #female farmer #stardew sebastian

[kingreywrites]

The Smolder Tragedy

Fandom: Tangled

Word Count: 3314

Summary: A very concussed and very out of it Eugene Fitzherbert comes to a devastating conclusion about his smolder. His kidnappers are not all that sympathetic about it.

Note: that title is so corny god asgfdgh anyway, this is a self-indulgent hurt/comfort fic, but there’s quite a bit of hurt!! So be warned that there is talk of a concussion, some violence (because he’s kidnapped), and also a mention of spiked water (he’s mostly fine though but I’d rather be safe)

Read on ao3

Now that he was thinking about it, Eugene realised that the smolder never... truly worked on anyone. Well, when he was younger, adults tended to go easier on him if he made a somewhat cute face at them, and in the following years, doing it never hurt his chances with the people who were already attracted to him. But neither of these facts actually attested of the efficiency of the smolder in itself, and if Rapunzel was left particularly unimpressed, Eugene wasn't sure anyone had ever really swooned because of it.

Oh, the demon Rapunzel from the weird mirror dimension did swoon that one time. Was that a good sign, or a bad one?

"The hell are you talking about?" someone growled, entering the room loudly and making Eugene's headache worse, if that was even possible.

That guy was one of the reasons Eugene was thinking about his smolder's actual abilities - or lack thereof. Because see, if the smolder worked, which he was now doubting, he could simply use it on this guy, and that would make him swoon, and Eugene would use the distraction to get free from the chair he was tied on, and get out of here quickly. But Eugene didn't think the smolder would work. Not because Mr Beetle here (lovingly named after the bug which landed on his head during Eugene's kidnapping - he'll get to that part later) was immune to his charms, but because maybe... perhaps... the smolder had never been effective?

This was devastating news. Truth really was the heaviest burden a man could bear.

Beetle grabbed his hair and pulled his head back roughly, making Eugene see stars and forget, for a moment, the whole smolder dilemma. But then he was being yelled at things he could barely understand between the buzzing in his ears and the concussion he got earlier - without forgetting the stuff they made him drink that made his head all fuzzy and his thoughts completely muddled - and he couldn't help but wonder if he could smolder his way out of here. That'd be nice. It had been what, four days since they got their hands on him? Five? Eugene was bored now.

"If-," he coughed, feeling like the hoarse voice he could hear wasn't his own, "if I tried to seduce you, would you break my nose?"

Going by the way his head was slammed back again, Eugene took it as a yes. That was a shame, truly. He knew that his life was different today, that he had changed for the better and was now the Captain of Corona's Guard, so really, he didn't need the smolder - but he loved that silly little trick. It felt like discovering that Santa wasn't real all over again. Not that he ever believed in Santa, since the matrons didn't see fit to talk about that particular tradition when everyone knew that orphans wouldn't get Christmas gifts, but that's what Eugene thought it must feel like.

His head hurt a lot.

A big hand tipped his chin up, since he had been looking at his pants and the stains on them (would he be able to get the blood out?), and he realised that Beetle was trying to make him drink that weird stuff again. The one that made his head feel like it was floating above his shoulders, and made him feel warm in the most disgustingly sweaty way. Eugene hated it. So he kept his lips as tightly closed as he could, and trashed in the chair to make it more difficult on that goon.

This was becoming ridiculous. The fact that he even got kidnapped already hurt enough as it was - they got the best of him after a very exhausting day, and pointed a crossbow at his heart before hitting him so hard over the head he was pretty sure he stayed unconscious for a few hours straight... which Rapunzel would probably think was pretty concerning. For his part, he was more annoyed about the constant headache than anything. Mostly, he couldn't believe he got kidnapped.

He didn't even remember if anyone had seen him, and hoped no one had gotten hurt during the whole ordeal. In any case, he was pretty embarrassed and, to add insult to injury, they didn't even care about him. He was Captain of the Guard for god's sake, you'd think that would make him interesting enough, but no, they only wanted him to pressure the royal family.

Being used as leverage sucked. Thinking that they might hurt the people he loved by using him made him feel sick, even more than their weird drugged water did.

"If you keep being difficult you're gonna regret it," Beetle threatened, and Eugene would have told him that he was the one who would regret stuff soon, if he hadn't been also preoccupied with keeping his mouth shut. Which, ironically, was something people had asked of him a lot in his life, and that he had always refused to do - until someone tried to force him to keep it open. He never did like authority, after all. The matrons would always tell him that he was a troublemaker of the worst kind, and that someday, life would get back at him for the chaos he created. They were yet to be proved right about that one but-

Beetle punched him in the gut, making Eugene gasp and cough in pain, before his nose was pinched and he was forced to swallow the water, nearly choking on it.

"Rude," he noted weakly when it was over, his throat on fire as he heaved. Already, he could feel the fuzziness coming back with a vengeance, his vision blurring at the edges because of whatever mysterious compound they forced him to drink. He'd have to ask Varian about it. The kid would know, certainly, or would at least be excited to research it, and it was fun when Varian was excited. He still had that weird maniacal villain vibe mixed with his genuine and adorable love for sciency things, and that was an interesting combination to see in action.

The door to Eugene's cell was slammed shut and, in the dim light, he understood that he was alone once again. Beetle didn't even say goodbye. It was okay, though, because Eugene didn't think he could have answered without puking - the entire world was swimming in front of his eyes. Closing them only made everything even more unsteady, and now Eugene wondered if he could even try to do a good smolder in that state. He couldn’t feel his face.

His eyes were heavy, and it didn't take long before he passed out again.

------

Next time Eugene woke up, it was to the sound of yelling outside the door of his cell, loud and definitely not the kind of voices he wanted to hear. Maybe it was stupid, but each time he opened his eyes, he hoped to find Rapunzel here, ready to rescue him, but it hadn't happened… yet.

Trying to raise his head only awakened the ache in his neck and back from the terrible position he was in - he hated sleeping on chairs. Being homeless for a good part of his life had taught him that the bare ground was always preferable, but he didn't think he could argue about his sleeping conditions with his kidnappers. He pulled on the rope that was keeping his hands tied behind his back, and noticed that it was giving a little. If he could just-

"Your plan better work!" someone yelled, startling him - but it was still coming from behind the door. "You don't realise what we're risking with this!"

"Of course it'll work! Do you really think that the son-in-law of the King and the husband of the Princess is worthless? They're gonna listen to us because they'll want him back."

That was… touching, in a strange way. Not that Eugene enjoyed being taken for ransom, or whatever it was they wanted to do, but it did remind him that he had a family, and that they would fight to get him back. Rapunzel was probably worried out of her mind, right now, and this was enough to spur him into action again, because he didn't want to simply wait here for rescue like an idiot.

"What if they attack us?" the scared guy yelled again, as Eugene pulled on his bounds again, ignoring the sharp sting of the rope cutting into his skin, and his ever-present nausea. "What if- what if instead of paying, the guards find us and destroy our base?"

In Eugene's opinion, the guards weren't really the threat here - this guy didn't want to know what Rapunzel would do to him if she found them. The thought was enough to make him chuckle, which in turn made him realise that the weird water might still be having an effect on him, because he hadn't managed to keep himself quiet. Not great.

His fingers fumbled with the knot he could feel, trying to get it to loosen even more. Unfortunately, the door of his cell -more like a closet than a cell to be honest- was thrown open, and he had to act as innocent as possible.

Going by the glare he received, he was doing a poor job of it.

The new guy (he'd call him Martin, because he had a Martin face) seemed to enjoy kicking him around a bit more. The only silver lining was that he seemed intent on kicking his ribs, and consequently left his poor head alone. Still not the best, but Eugene would take it. He didn't have much choice anyway, since Martin decided to greet him with his fists today.

"Feeling better yet?" Eugene breathed when he thought it was over. He earned another kick for the trouble.

"You better hope they pay what we ask of them," Martin snarled, way too close for Eugene's comfort. "Because I can't say that I won't enjoy killing you if it comes to that."

"Aww, I'm touched, truly," was all Eugene could say, before a hand ended up around his throat, and he couldn't talk anymore. He vaguely heard Martin threatening him again, but honestly, the guy should realise that it was difficult to be afraid of him when Eugene was barely conscious enough to understand him.

It went down the same way as it always did, these days. Eugene was forced to drink that damned drugged water -it was getting more disgusting each time-, and he couldn't breathe, and the Martin guy said something about hurting Rapunzel, and if you think you're gonna be able to touch her you've got another thing coming you assho-

And Eugene lost consciousness. Again.

------

When he woke up again, Eugene couldn’t breathe. The world was loud, too loud, his vision was swimming and the room spinning under him, and he couldn't- it was as if his breaths were getting stuck in his ribcage, and was he still being choked, what-

"Hey, Eugene, it's okay, look at me-"

Dragging in air painfully, he opened his eyes to a slit, meeting the frantic and oh so green ones of- Rapunzel?

"Come on, it's okay, breathe with me," she said, voice low, and he listened to her - how could he not? For a moment, when it felt like he was still dangerously tethering on the edge of choking, he wondered if she was even real, or if it was all a dream conjured by the lack of oxygen. Then, she brushed his hair back, her palm warm and tangible on his cheek, and it felt real enough that he melted into it.

"That's it," she encouraged him gently, one hand resting lightly on his heaving chest. "That's it, breathe. I won't let them hurt you anymore."

He couldn't hold back a nervous chuckle at that, but going by the pinch of her eyebrows, that wasn't the right reaction. After a few seconds, when he finally felt like his lungs weren't about to explode, he tried to smile at her. It only seemed to worry her more.

Her fingers trailed along his jaw, tracing what he knew were dark bruises on his skin. She went higher, to his hair, and touched something that immediately made him flinch.

"Sorry, sorry, I-" she exclaimed quickly, pushing his hair away again. "I'm gonna get you out of here."

His perceptions were still blurred, as if he was underwater, but he could hear now the sounds of fighting and chaos coming from behind the door. Rescue. He was being rescued - Rapunzel was rescuing him. He knew she would do it.

"Well, I wish I had been a little quicker," Rapunzel said, her voice wobbly.

"You're just in time Sunshine," he whispered, his throat raw.

"Am I?"

He didn't like the self-deprecation in her tone, nor the worry that didn't seem able to leave her features, and he felt guilty for being the cause of it. If he hadn't been kidnapped-

"Eugene? Eugene, stay with me," Rapunzel asked, with an urgency that made him realise he had closed his eyes. Huh. He was dizzy. "I know, I'm sorry, just- I'm gonna free you, okay?"

He blinked, trying to look at her so she would stop sounding so… scared. She was fumbling with the ropes holding his left hand in place. There was the sound of an explosion outside, right as she got rid of the first one, and she threw an indecipherable look at the door.

He wanted… He wanted her to stop looking so sad. He didn't like it when she was sad. Could he do something about it? Well-

"The smolder doesn't work," he mumbled dejectedly. Rapunzel was taking care of his bound legs now, though he didn't remember her freeing his right hand. He moved it slowly, feeling as if the limb wasn't his own, and wondered how much the weird water was still affecting him.

"Weird water?" Rapunzel repeated. He wasn't sure how to not voice all his thoughts aloud, apparently, which he's sure his dad would find amusing.

Since Rapunzel was still looking at him, Eugene took a few seconds to remember her question and simply hummed, head swimming. That seemed to make her even more unhappy, and he could get disliking the water, but he didn't like when Rapunzel was unhappy. "Do you... think the smolder ever, uh... worked?" he asked, trying to distract her.

"I'm sure it did," she answered, in the same gentle tone she used on people she disagreed with.

"It- it never worked on you, though. And it wouldn't have worked on Beetle, or- or- Martin," he pressed. His tongue was heavy in his mouth, and now his feet were free but he really didn't have the energy to try and get up. He didn't want to puke on Rapunzel, too.

She didn't reply. Instead, she looped one of his arms around her neck, and braced her hand against his ribs. He winced, and she apologised quietly, but before he could try to argue that he didn't think he could do it, she made him stand up swiftly, grip tightening around him when his knees inevitably buckled. He closed his eyes tightly, ears ringing painfully and stomach churning, and he was grateful that he could count on Rapunzel to not let him fall on his face.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she kept repeating, adjusting his weight to stop him from sliding down further. "I know it's hard, but I'll get you to safety, I promise, just hang on-"

Eugene could guess that he really didn't look great if she was that desperate to comfort him. To be fair, he didn't feel great either. He could barely follow her words, couldn't stand up on his own, and had to focus all his energy into not being sick as Rapunzel helped him walk. It clearly wasn't his best day.

He tried to regain his footing, so she didn't have to drag him with her, but his legs were shaky and he nearly fell again. He thought Rapunzel was going to toss him over her shoulder and run, which he knew she could do, and he also knew his body wouldn't appreciate as much as usual given his current dizziness, but that was exactly the moment Maximus arrived to the rescue. Or maybe they arrived to Maximus? There were more people around them, more noises and voices too, and Eugene couldn’t follow anything of what was happening. He thought he heard Lance, and felt another hand holding him up, but all he could focus on was Rapunzel being here, and Rapunzel talking to him, and calling his name, his one beacon of light when the pain in his head grew to be too much to bear.

He felt her hand in his, and realised that he had been laid down somewhere. He wanted to reassure her, but couldn’t do much more but feebly squeeze her fingers, hoping she would understand. And then, because he was tired and in pain, and because he knew that, now that she was here, he was going to be okay, Eugene passed out.

------

“You are evil,” Eugene moaned, hiding his face under his pillow while Rapunzel laughed innocently.

"What, I'm trying to help!" she smiled, coming to sit next to him on the bed. He felt the mattress dip under her weight, and took a peek at her, groaning again when he saw how smug she seemed. "I even made flyers and everything!"

She didn't seem to care about the annoyed look he threw her way, instead putting a bunch of papers in his hands. On it, his face, lips pursued and eyebrows raised, with the text asking the people of Corona to come test his “infamous smolder” by themselves. At this moment, Eugene would have preferred to have his old wanted posters thrown in his face - it would be way less embarrassing than… this.

“Come on Eugene, what better way to know for certain than to experiment? You seemed really bummed out about your smolder!”

“I wasn’t in my right mind,” he grumbled. “You can’t hold me accountable for my concussed ramblings!”

Her expression softened at that, and her hand came to caress his cheek, gently trailing up to the bandages still around his wound. Her touch was soft enough to not sting, and he couldn’t keep up his facade of annoyance when it was so obvious she simply wanted to make him laugh.

“I love you, you know?” he breathed, and she had a second to look pleasantly surprised before she leant down and kissed him.

“I love you too, Eugene,” she smiled fondly.

“You’re the only person I care to seduce anyway,” he laughed. “I guess I’ll have to live with the smolder being ineffective.”

“If that helps,” she murmured, climbing fully on the bed to lie down next to him, “I feel pretty seduced by you already.”

“Ah yeah?” he grinned. “Well, I’m pretty seduced by you too, Sunshine. You’re my hero after all,” he said, and though he had intended it as a joke, his tone was too earnest to be mistaken as anything but the truth. He could still see glimpses of guilt in Rapunzel’s expression, when he knew she had done everything in her power to find him as quickly as she could - he’d repeat it as much as she needed to finally see it too.

Rapunzel watched him, before cupping his cheek and bringing their lips together once again. He knew he would need to rest again soon, and that his constant headache would probably spike if he didn’t, but for now, he kissed her back, and it felt like everything was alright again. Because it was, in all the ways that mattered.

She saved him, and they were together - he wouldn’t ask for anything more.

#tangled #tangled the series #Eugene Fitzherbert #Rapunzel

[carewyncromwell]

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star, So we'll know where you are --  Gleaming in the skies above, Lead me to the one who loves me...”

~“The Second Star to the Right (cover),” by Simone

x~x~x~x

HEY PETER PAN ANON! I MADE YOU SOMETHING!! 8D

Hahaha, yes! This is Peter-Pan!Orion and Wendy!Carewyn (Carewyndy?). No, I won’t be writing this AU before the Tangled AU at least (and yes, I should have that up hopefully by next week)...but I couldn’t resist doodling these and talking a bit about the daydreaming I did based on this concept. Orion’s ripped pants were kind of based on how the pants are ripped in the 2003 Peter Pan’s costume, but I just couldn’t resist giving him his canon fingerless armwarmers. (I see them being forest green just like his pants, though, while his tunic is a light tan.)

Basically I see eternally 12-1/2-year old Orion Amari taking a strong liking to 10-year-old Carewyn Cromwell when she comes to Neverland. Even though she does act a bit too grown-up sometimes, it’s largely because of how deeply she feels for other people -- she’s determined to protect others, whether from bullying or actual danger, and she hates the thought of anyone feeling alone. She actually is the only person who’s ever asked Orion if he was lonely, being the only child who was destined to never grow up. And as much as Orion will airily state that “to die would be an awfully big adventure,” he finds that it’s Carewyn who believes this most, for the idea of growing older doesn’t frighten her the way it does her grandfather, the man now called Captain Hook. If anything, what makes her saddest about leaving Neverland is not for her sake, but for Orion’s -- she, Jacob, Charlie, and Bill were all going home to London, along with a good chunk of Orion’s friends among the Lost Kids...and Carewyn hated the thought that she’d never see her friend Orion again. So she reminded Orion that she would always have her window open at night, if he ever wanted to come and visit, hear her read a story or two, or even just listen to her singing while she did her evening chores. Sensing Orion’s hesitance, she reassured him that she’d never forget him. 

Orion proceeded to return to life in Neverland, embarking on those same old adventures that make the days blur and make it easy to forget things. Forgetting was part of Neverland’s magic -- even Bill had almost forgotten he had a new baby sister back in London, when he, Charlie, and Carewyn had been there with Orion and the Lost Kids. But, as Orion would often tell himself, adults forgot things in the other world too: they forgot the joys of childhood, they forgot the freedom and the simple pleasures and the bottomless daydreams. All of them, every last one of them, eventually forgot how to fly. 

But perhaps because of Carewyn’s final promise, every time Orion thought of how easy it was to forget things in Neverland, and therefore how easy it was to forget things outside of it, Carewyn’s face and words always returned to his mind. And so, the memory of her conviction and caring never strayed too far from his mind...and with it, other thoughts would crop up too. How stable things had been, when Carewyn was around. How well she understood him and how easy it was to talk to her and trust in her. And it was then that Orion realized that he really, truly missed Carewyn. It was a feeling he’d never really experienced that deeply before, not even for the other children who had eventually returned home to their families. Even Bill and Charlie, who Orion likewise grew reasonably fond of, didn’t make him feel like his stomach was always empty, no matter how much food he ate -- like his heart was scraping at the inside of his chest like a hungry animal desperate to devour something outside its cage. And that feeling only intensified when his fairy guardian Merula would try to urge him to go challenge Torvus and the centaurs to a race or splash around with the mermaids, even when Orion wasn’t in the mood to do so. 

Orion felt restless, unsure of quite what was wrong with him and not knowing how to explain his muddled thought process to McNully and his remaining Lost Kids. One day Orion was eventually persuaded by McNully to lead an expedition to find a lost chest of pirate treasure, and for a short while, the Boy Who Never Grew Up was simply able to enjoy pulling one over on his old enemy and sharing the loot with his gang. That changed, though, when Captain Hook crashed the party. 

Orion and Hook traded as many blows as ever, throwing insults at each other like they always did -- but this day, Hook said one barbed phrase that stuck in Orion’s ear more than he ever would’ve admitted.

“Already forgotten my dear Winnie, I see. But I guess I can’t be surprised. After all, the only thing that can break through Neverland’s curse -- that thing that makes everyone forget...is love. And you -- ha -- you don’t know anything about that, do you, boy?”

Love. Yes. That was the thing that made Carewyn remember her lost brother and mother, even while she was a Lost Girl. That was the thing that had made Charlie remember his parents, even after he’d forgotten London altogether. That was the thing that made Bill remember his other siblings, once he remembered how his baby sister Ginny would always cry after her afternoon nap until he came home from his newspaper route and bounced her up and down for a minute or two. That was the thing that had made Jacob remember his little sister in London, even after he was kidnapped by Hook and commandeered into piracy. And, Orion realized, it was the thing that he missed most about Carewyn -- her ability to love more deeply than anyone else he had ever known...like a mother would, and yet like an equal...a companion, more than just someone to go on adventures with. 

Orion tried to broach this topic with Merula, but the huffy little fairy put up her walls and stubbornly refused to let them down. Feelings were grown-up things, and Orion didn’t need grown-up things! Orion wanted to agree, but the feelings he felt were becoming heavy -- so heavy, in fact, that he found it harder for him to find his center, to think thoughts happy enough that he could fly to any height he wanted. He actually found himself hovering and floating more than flying...and this troubled him. It made him more anxious than he could remember ever being. 

Then the thought struck him -- why didn’t he just go and visit Carewyn? She said he could, whenever he wanted. She could tell him some stories and sing some songs for him -- maybe she could even sew him a new pocket for his shirt! These thoughts perked Orion up a bit, and he decided to leave for London straightaway. 

He hadn’t expected it to be so cold -- for you see, in Neverland, it’s every season all year ‘round, all except winter. It was a fact Carewyn had lamented, for winter was her favorite season. She loved the Christmas holidays and how everyone would gather around the fireplace with warm food together and sing Christmas songs and tell stories. It had actually sounded kind of nice to Orion, when she described it to him and the Lost Kids -- but on this day in London, Orion didn’t think the cold was so nice, nor the gray, dreary city itself. There were buildings that had been crushed and holes in cobblestone streets, made by bombs that had been dropped by German Zeppelins, and just about nobody raised their heads enough to look skyward. The adults prowling the streets were just as lacking of joy as Orion had always imagined them to be, yet it wasn’t due to stupid grown-up things like wearing a tie to work or paying bills. Instead there was exhaustion, sadness...pain. Orion hated these people’s wrinkles even more than the ones he’d see on the pirates’ faces, from dwelling on mindless things like how much treasure they had or what their daily duties were. 

But none of that mattered, of course. What mattered was seeing Carewyn. But alas, when Orion arrived at the Weasleys’ house, it was still daytime...and the window to the room Carewyn, Bill, and Charlie once shared was locked. 

Orion rattled at the window desperately, slapping the glass and pulling at its handles as he cried her name. All logic left his mind -- his breathing became raspier and weaker even as he shouted louder. 

She had to be there -- she had to be there -- she couldn’t have forgotten -- she wouldn’t have forgotten -- she promised -- she promised she wouldn’t forget him -- love was what kept someone from forgetting -- Carewyn knew love better than anyone -- she loved her brother -- she loved the Weasleys -- she loved the Lost Kids and Torvus and the mermaids and the fairies -- she loved Orion -- didn’t she love -- ?

As Orion’s anxiety spiked, the magic of Merula’s fairy dust began to abandon him. He found himself becoming heavier. He tried to cling onto the windowsill, pulling at and smacking the window, but it wasn’t wide enough for him to hold onto while it was closed. Soon enough he found himself falling slowly, like someone drifting down to the bottom of a pool...and when he landed on the ground, he landed on his knees, shaking. He clasped his hands together, his eyes wide and hollow upon the frosty ground as wintry condensation fell from his panting lips. 

He’d lost his happy thought. He’d lost it. 

He tried to fly. He tried desperately to fly, only to fall and scrape his knees and hands. Never in his life had Orion Amari ever been so frightened, shuddering from head to toe in the freezing cold. 

He shakily got to his bare feet and, barely knowing where he was going, he walked. He wandered aimlessly, his eyes glassing over as he gasped for air, searching every revolted and anxious face that he passed as the faces’ owners cringed at the state of his long hair, ripped clothes, and lack of shoes. 

Orion wandered for what felt like hours, until at long last, as if by fate, he ended up not far away from a Church-funded school, which taught both elementary and higher-elementary-level students. One of those such students was a girl with a ginger braid and almond-shaped blue eyes, walking home with several classmates, including a black-haired girl with glasses carrying a bunch of books, a rather pretty blonde with pigtail braids, and a rather cowardly-looking boy with blond hair, brown eyes, and a very thick sweater and mittens over his Church-provided uniform. The ginger-haired girl herself was wrapped up in a rather thick old dark blue blanket she’d turned into a shawl after it got ripped and had been holding it tightly around herself when, all of a sudden, she heard her name being cried by a misty, and yet anxious voice. 

“Carewyn! Carewyn...!”

One can only imagine what Carewyn’s school friends Rowan Khanna, Penny Haywood, and Ben Copper thought, seeing such a scrawny, ragamuffin street boy running toward their friend. Rowan actually tried to step in front of Carewyn as if to protect her, while Ben made as if to cling onto Carewyn’s arm in terror. But Carewyn herself, her eyes very wide upon the boy, immediately tore away from both Rowan and Ben and ran to Orion without a single shred of hesitation. 

“Orion?!”

She barreled over, whipping the shawl off her shoulders and wrapping it around his instead. 

“Orion, what are you doing here?! You’re going to catch a death of cold!”

Orion hadn’t been able to stop shaking for an instant, but her shouting his name, rushing to take care of him -- her remembering him -- it made his heart feel like a beast craving food again. Her concern wet his appetite. He wanted it. He wanted her caring. He wanted her love...

She was as tall as him. She’d been so tiny before...

“Carewyn...you know this boy?” asked Rowan, looking bewildered.

“Yes,” said Carewyn, glancing over her shoulder, “he’s a friend. Rowan, this is Orion. Orion, this is -- ”

“You’ve...grown older,” Orion’s absent mumble cut her off. 

Carewyn fixed him with a faintly reproachful look. “I’m afraid that does happen, in the span of three years...”

Thirteen. She was thirteen. ...She was older than him.

Carewyn’s eyes welled up with concern as she looked Orion over. She turned to her friends quickly. 

“...I’d better get him inside and warm...I’ll see you all tomorrow, okay?”

She quickly bid her friends goodbye, before wrapping an arm tightly around Orion’s shoulders as best she could, rubbing his arm through her shawl in an attempt to warm him. 

“Orion, what were you thinking?” she whispered, her voice full of concern as her eyes stayed locked ahead at their path. “Coming here in broad daylight, in this cold...”

Orion had started to shake again, his hands clasping more tightly. 

“Your window was shut,” he mumbled. 

Carewyn looked very upset. “...My old window, you mean? The one I shared with Bill and Charlie? Oh, Orion, I don’t share a room with Bill and Charlie anymore -- I share with Ginny now. Girls’ room, you know. Charlie and Percy actually share that room now...Bill’s sharing a flat with several other boys, closer to the newspaper’s headquarters in the East End...” 

Her eyes rippled with pain. 

“...Ginny’s and my room doesn’t have a window,” she explained. “I’ve told Charlie and Percy to keep their window open for me, but...well, Percy’s grown up way too fast. He must have closed it to block out the air raid sirens last night and forgotten to reopen it...”

Orion didn’t understand half of what Carewyn was saying, but the tone she spoke with held such reassurance and remorse that it soothed the racing anxiety that had so paralyzed him. He closed his eyes as the adrenaline his anxiety had built up ebbed away, leaving him oddly drained and colder than ever. He was so out of it that he barely seemed to acknowledge that his head flopped down onto her shoulder. 

“Orion?” said Carewyn, startled and worried. 

But Orion merely inhaled and exhaled slowly. Her caring fed that beast in his chest. He wanted a bit more. 

“Carewyn,” he murmured, “did...did you think of me?”

He felt Carewyn adjust her arm around him. 

“Of course I did,” she said softly. “I told you I would never forget you.”

The tenseness in Orion’s clasped hands and face loosened its grasp. “...Because you love me.”

Carewyn looked at him, her eyebrows furrowed with confusion. “What?”

But Orion barely reacted -- as if he didn’t think what he’d said was the least bit weird. 

“There’s only one thing that can prevent someone from forgetting...and that’s love. For once you love someone, your heart never really forgets them. Instead they become part of you...an indispensable piece...that would make you feel incomplete, if it was ever removed.”

Orion slowly opened his eyes, his lips spreading into a small, rather soft smile that made him look a bit more like his usual self. 

“...It’s what helped you remember your brother and the Weasleys, while you were with me...and your brother remember you, while he was with Hook,” he said. “It’s something I know nothing about...but I know you know it very well.”

Carewyn considered him for a moment, before returning her gaze back to the road. Plenty of people passing by gave her and Orion the side-eye, but she didn’t care. 

“I don’t know if I’d say you know nothing about it,” she said at last. “You remembered me just as much as I remembered you, did you not?”

Orion’s smile faded from his lips as his eyes widened ever-so-slightly. Then his expression slowly relaxed.

“...Perhaps...”

His black eyes trailed over her arm around his shoulders and her hand rubbing up and down his arm hesitantly. His arm beside her chest twitched slightly -- then, very, very tentatively, he tried to wrap his arm around her shoulders in return. It was a bit awkward, with the shawl wrapped around him...but once Carewyn sussed out what he was doing, she adjusted enough to give the shawl enough slack that he could successfully hold her in return. Once he had gotten his arm around her, he seemed oddly proud of himself, his smile spreading and his eyes closing again as he leaned into her, his head beside hers on her shoulder. 

They stayed that way for several blocks, walking in silence and simply enjoying each others’ company. Orion felt his center of balance returning to him. It was like having this stable place, with his arms wrapped around Carewyn’s shoulders and hers around his, was the earth he needed under his feet to launch himself back up into the air. He felt like he might even be able to fly again at some point...maybe not yet, but soon. Time always moved more slowly in Neverland than in London anyhow, so no one would mind if he took his time...

“...Carewyn?” 

“Hmm?”

“I...don’t know if I can make it back to Neverland,” he confessed. 

Carewyn looked at him, her eyes once again flooding with concern. 

“I fell, when I failed to open your window,” Orion explained. “I’ve only ever fallen like that once before...when...”

“...When Grandfather made you think unhappy thoughts,” Carewyn finished grimly. She turned away from him, facing the road again. 

Orion nodded. His black eyes flickered across her face, even though she was no longer looking at him. 

Hook had taunted him then that Carewyn had no reason to stay in Neverland -- that she preferred the thought of growing old and dying to staying with him -- that he could never meet her high standards. He’d taunted that one day, Orion would go back to find her window locked and barred -- a grown woman who’s forgotten all about him, about Neverland, about how to fly...who’s replaced all of it with adult things Orion could never understand. Ambition. Family. ...Husband. 

Carewyn wasn’t an adult yet, but she certainly wasn’t a child anymore either. There was a practicality to her posture -- a steadiness and gravity to how she walked. There was a neatness and meticulousness in how she handled her appearance. And yet even so, her hands were still so warm and her eyes were still so soft...and the sincerity in the little wrinkles that creased her brow and eyes and kissed at the corners of her lips was just the same. 

Carewyn raised her head in Orion’s direction, but her eyes couldn’t quite reach his. Instead they landed vaguely on his shoulder. 

“...I never told you...Grandfather was wrong, did I?” she asked quietly. 

Orion tilted his head. “...I suppose it depends on which thing he said that you’re thinking of. You did say you’d never forget me, or Neverland...or how to fly.”

“Yes,” said Carewyn, “but I didn’t say that he was wrong, that you’d never understand ambition or family. That’s definitely not true. Ambition isn’t just an adult thing -- you dream of never growing up, of never losing your freedom or your independence...your spirit. That’s a wonderful ambition. And you have a wonderful family too, in Neverland. The centaurs and mermaids -- Merula and the fairies -- the Lost Kids! You take care of them as if they were your family.”

Orion stared at her for a moment, his face very unreadable, but his black eyes rippling with a strange emotion. Then he curled his fingers into the puffy white sleeve of her shirt. 

“...And...the last thing?” he asked softly. “‘Husband?’”

Carewyn frowned deeply. “Is marriage something you even want to understand?”

“No!” said Orion instantly, looking revolted. “No...but...well...”

He swallowed, his own gaze drifting away. “...If you grow up...you’ll eventually want one, won’t you?”

Carewyn cocked her brows coolly. “It’s possible. But honestly, marriage seems like a bit of a bother. I’ve had to answer to plenty of adults in my life: I’d hate to have to answer to one more by choice. Especially if it means I have to give up Jacob, my friends, and my dreams just to make him comfortable.”

She said this so huffily, and yet it comforted Orion more than he could ever properly express. His own chest seemed to lighten and he felt better able to breathe again. His eyes softened upon Carewyn’s face. 

“...I see.”

The two finally reached the Weasley home again. Orion noticed the house across the street that Carewyn had once pointed out was hers and Jacob’s had been boarded up. 

“It’ll get torn down soon,” said Carewyn, noticing Orion’s gaze. “The family that lived there had their house ransacked, just because they were German...”

Her eyes narrowed. 

“...It’s disgusting, how they were treated,” she added to herself. “They were very nice to Jacob and me, when we first came home...”

“Where is your brother?” asked Orion. 

Carewyn deflated. 

“...The war front,” she said sadly. “He’d been saving up so we could move into our own place, but...well, the army needed soldiers, so both he and Mr. Weasley signed up. Mrs. Weasley let me stay here, so I wouldn’t have to struggle to find a place to stay myself.”

Orion felt something oddly like pity prickling at his chest. “You mean you’ve lost him again, after only just getting him back?”

Carewyn didn’t answer as she opened the door of the Weasley home and bustled him inside. Once the door was closed, she guided him over to the main room and into an armchair, wrapping several more blankets around him. 

“Wait here,” she said. Her lips spread into a fuller smile. “I’ll make you some hot cocoa -- that’s sure to help you fly again.”

Orion felt his heart give a somersault. 

“Do you remember?” he said very quickly, before she could leave the room. “...Do you remember how to fly?”

Carewyn beamed. 

“Of course. All you need is faith and trust, and to have been brushed with fairy dust. Then you think happy, wonderful thoughts, and...”

She spread her arms, and -- amazingly -- her feet actually came up off the ground.

Orion’s black eyes widened. Then his mouth slowly spread into the fullest, brightest smile as he found himself coming up off the ground himself. He floated just below her, spreading both of his arms too so as to take her hands and hold them out on either side of them.

Even when the world was so miserable -- even when she had so much reason to forget...Carewyn still knew how to fly. 

“You’re flying,” said Carewyn with a warm smile. 

Orion’s eyes sparkled as he guided her around in a circle, just as he had when they danced with the fairies. “I found a happy thought.”

“Did you? What is it?”

“A person whose company makes you feel stronger, when you’re at your worst.”

Carewyn smiled. “I believe that’s what’s called a ‘friend,’ Orion Amari.”

Orion’s midnight-black eyes gleamed.

Yes. A friend. Not just someone to go on adventures with, or look after, or play make-believe with, or give direction -- but someone to be your shoulder to lean on. To listen, to comfort...to love. That was a friend. As much as he cherished the Lost Kids, he was the one who had found them -- they answered to him, seeing him as leader, since there was supposedly no one else who could. 

This friend...he wanted this friend by his side forever. “Forever,” as Carewyn had once reminded him, was an awfully long time -- but he didn’t hesitate in this thought at all. 

And so, not long after, the Boy Who Never Grew Up returned to Neverland. He passed his mantle of leadership onto Lost Boy McNully, said a quick goodbye to all of the members of his Neverland family...and decided to leave for good. Even his short trip back to the Second Star to the Right took up a few weeks, but when he returned to London, his friend was waiting for him. And Orion and Carewyn grew up together, as close of friends as teenagers and later adults as they were as children. Orion grew more than just a fraction of an inch -- he soon towered a good head over Carewyn once more. He even grew a mustache, and a beard too! And yet even with this, it was never beneath his dignity to climb a tree, nor to engage in food fights, nor to read adventure books about pirates, nor to crow like a rooster upon winning a game. No matter how much his other classmates at school would frown, and no matter how much the adults would disdain and scold him, Orion never cared -- and neither did Carewyn, or Bill or Charlie, or any of the other friends he made over the years. 

So you see, even if Orion grew older, he never truly grew up...for all children grow up, except one. And one day -- many, many years down the road from when Orion first made the choice to stay -- he looked at Carewyn and realized that his first and dearest friend had become something even more precious: a friend he wished to love, cherish, and live beside far longer than forever. A friend he would call “lover.” 

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #peter pan au #my art #my writing #orion amari #carewyn cromwell #damn it I didn't mean this to be so long but I just couldn't stop XD #my two favorite peter pan adaptations are peter pan (2003) and hook so that DEFINITELY influenced this #I'm sorry but I think peter finding a reason to grow up is sweet #I know there's the whole fan interpretation of peter guiding dead children to the afterlife and all but... #well we see kids leave neverland not just the darlings but the lost boys #and honestly hook is right in the 2003 version -- peter IS a tragedy as he is! #in the end he'll always end up alone #so really eventually every child *should* grow up...it's a scary thing but something that must be faced anyway #because through that hardship one can find even more fulfilling happiness #because it's happiness that's fought for #that's my two cents anyway XD; #geez orion looks so different without his facial hair LOL

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Hey there again!! I was wondering if I could request another dialogue prompt scenario with Hanako x Fem!Reader again with #33 "I only ever thought there were two kinds of love: The kind you would kill for, and the kind you would die for... but for you, my darling, you are the kind of love I would live for" and #34 "I want you. All of you, and not just half-heartedly, wholly. And maybe that's selfish, but I don't care." It can be past Hanako or present, your choice! Thank you again!! 👻👻👻

Pairing: Hanako x reader

Words: 7048 (mistakes have been made)

T/W: death mention, injury mention,a bit angsty but with a happy ending

On god I’ve written more than 10k for this bad boy with the amount that i have  edited and cut and rewritten but i have finally finished it. sorry it took so long!!

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“Kisses can’t fix everything you know."

This was exactly why she found herself sitting on the floor of the third-floor girl’s bathroom, the door locked and a first aid kit spread out before her.

"Amane-"

"Please."

The alcohol-soaked cotton ball falters in her fingers at the desperation in his soft voice.

"Can’t we just talk about something else?"

She peers up at him under her lashes briefly. Lucky or unlucky, the boy refused to return the gesture, staring stubbornly off, a crinkle in his brow and a weight in his lips.

(Y/n) looks back down at her work, but not without muttering, "Only when you stop bringing me all these cuts and bruises..."

She knows he’s going to huff and puff, so she interrupts before he can, hoping a change of topic might put him in a better mood, "Because of you, I talked to someone about medical school today."

Amane utters immediately, "Huh?"

"Tsuchigomori-san thinks I should look into becoming a doctor," she keeps her gaze fixed on the cut she was treating, delicately dabbing it clean with the cotton ball, "I’m inclined to believe him."

Her friend is quiet and so is she, working methodically as ever.

"You’re good at what you do..." he mumbles, scarcely loud enough for her to hear over the unending silence of the afternoon bathroom.

"I know," she responds, adding pointedly, "You give me plenty of practice."

Glancing up, she catches his sour look with her small, sly smile. Sour, sour, sour those eyes were. Like two little lemons glaring back at her. Not intimidating in the slightest.

"That’s low," he enlightens her, making her snort under her breath.

Was it really considered a low blow to point out the truth staring them both in the face?

She lets out a long breath, the air slipping slowly from her lips as she returns her focus to the task at her hands.

"It’s only because of you," she reaches over for the antibiotic ointment, muttering, "If it were anyone else, I never would’ve taken any interest in first aid."

Squeezing the small tube so it oozes the gel onto her finger, she then brings it to the back of his hand, ever so gently smearing it onto the cut, "I would’ve never even thought twice about what I was doing."

She never would’ve been so careful.

After all, she’d grown up always having to be cutthroat and serious to get things done. She never had time to just slow down and look at things. There were a million things she had to strikeout. She was meant to act better than a machine, quick, efficient, and perfect.

And yet...

Even if it didn’t come naturally to (Y/n), Amane showed her that there was a need in the world for that kind of softness she all too often crushed and buried away.

Unknowingly, he had taught her many things over the course of their sometimes rocky friendship, but most of all... He taught her that she couldn't get through all her life constantly acting sharp and rigid.

Her wandering thoughts fizzle with the feeling of his eyes trained on her.

"Because we’re friends...?"

For a moment, she forgets herself. She’d gotten lost in her thoughts.

The words left a bittersweet taste in her mouth regardless... Soft on him because they were friends... How peachy.

She avoids his gaze, retrieving a bandaid for the last of his injuries, "Because I care about you, Amane. I don’t want to hurt you, so it’s made me slow down and think more."

While her words were no lie, they were nowhere near the whole truth, either.

However...

A subtle curve tugs at her lips.

"And..."

She can’t help but tease him.

"I realized that every time I help some hurt stranger... that they’re just like you."

He scoffs lightly, those narrowed amber eyes snapping up to meet hers, "In what way? You’re saying every stranger and I are the same to you?"

She shakes her head with a small laugh at his flare of thinly veiled jealousy. Geez. Someone was feeling a little defensive today.

"No. They just remind me of you," she admits, gazing down at his hand for a moment, her own absently stilled, "and then I know that someone out there is probably worried sick about their idiot."

She knew she was always worried about him, at least.

"Oh..."

She brushes over this matter with a new one.

"I’ll be in school for a really long time," she comments, busying herself with unwrapping the bandaid crinkling noisily between her fingers.

"And...?" He trails off, waiting.

"No. That’s all," she carefully slides the bandage out and places it over the cut on his hand, ever so lightly smoothing it out, "I just wanted to hear your thoughts on it."

Despite whatever thoughts and situations faced them, they were childhood friends after all. It made sense that she would care about his opinion... but maybe not as much as she ultimately did.

"Well, I think..." he’s quiet for a moment, searching for words, "I think you’d make a great doctor."

This makes the smile on her lips grow as she looks up at him, watching him gaze down at their hands, a thoughtful look marking his handsome features.

"You’re already good at scolding."

This makes her pause.

‘Bastard.’ She wants to huff at him.

And yet, instead, she pulls his hand up, (e/c) eyes flicking up to meet his quickly narrowing golden ones. She pays no mind to the suspecting look on his face and places an ever so soft kiss the bandaid she had just applied.

(Y/n) watches in silent delight as that familiar rose color blossoms across his pale cheeks.

She slowly sets his hand back down, though not releasing it from hers, muttering finally, "I suppose so."

She then gives his hand a squeeze, smirking a little, "Maybe I’ll even learn how to get my scolding through especially thick skulls like yours."

She couldn’t just let him slander her like that and get off completely scot-free.

"Okay, now you’re just being mean," he decides, stealing his hand away from her to cross his arms over his chest. Which, he was right, but only a little.

She only continues to smirk at him, undeterred.

"Says you," she notes, amusement lingering in her lowered tone, "You want away from me so bad you’re skipping planets."

"The moon is not a planet," he utters, scandalized by her words, his eyes sparkling a little with the way they widen incredulously, only allowing more light in their golden-colored depths.

She waves her hand dismissively, biting back her teasing smile, "Ah, right, right. Dwarf planet, yeah?"

(Y/n) turns her head away, adding the sprinkles to the top of her deceit before he can hastily protest, "Well, I guess since you’re kicking me to the curb, maybe I should find some rich husband to keep me company during my studies. Someone new I can take care of."

"Absolutely not!" Amane declares.

He was right, of course, but she was more than happy to let him think so highly of her. Her sharp tongue would never allow such a thing.

"Why not? Can’t you see it now?" She tilts her head at him, bringing a pointer finger to each corner of her lips and drawing them up in an award-winning smile, "Me, a trophy wife, a trophy husband, both fabulously rich. Three dogs. Maybe a kid."

He wears a look on his face that’s quite the opposite of hers, "Of course I can."

The sudden admission makes her falter in surprise.

"I just don’t want to," his eyes avoided hers.

She slowly lowers her hands, before setting them back in her lap.

"Then you need to get your eyes checked," she retorts bluntly, "The day I find someone who can tolerate me is the day hell freezes over."

Her eyes calmly find the amber ones now trying to burn holes in her.

"You, on the other hand..."

She can’t help her adoring smile.

"You’re going places, Amane."

She laughs a little to hide the slight embarrassment gripping her, eyes drawing to the window, "I mean, more than just the moon. I could see you going anywhere you put your mind to..."

The sun looks like it’s beginning to set, casting brilliant shades of oranges and yellows through the window to make the bathroom.

Yet, the sunset puts no hurry in her unmoving feet. She was sure Amane would walk her home, dark or not. He may be stubborn, and they did argue a lot, but he was loyal.

"Not without you."

She blinks.

"I’m not going anywhere without you, (Y/n)."

She turns to look at him, feeling almost incredulous.

"That’s a funny thing to say," she utters, cupping her cheek, trying to play it off to soothe her beating heart, "I know we’ve been friends for a long time, Amane, but..."

Her face softens with a teasing little smile at him, "Aren’t you tired of me yet?"

However, he doesn’t smile back, almost glaring at her like she’s said something stupid- sort of like when she muddled facts about the moon, except missing that shock factor, now replaced with something more firm.

"No."

He looks down at his hands as she blinks twice.

"I want you."

Her lungs abruptly come to a silent halt.

"All of you, (Y/n)."

Especially when he’s suddenly moving closer, taking her face in his kind hands, "Not just half-heartedly, but wholly."

For once, no protests come tumbling past her lips. She couldn’t even think of any. She almost wasn’t sure she had any.

He swallows, giving away his nerves, but doing nothing to stop those big beautiful eyes from burning bright.

"And maybe- maybe that’s selfish, but I don’t care."

She forces her lungs to work again, almost robotically evicting the breath from her chest.

But she can’t look away from him.

Or keep the big smile from curving at her lips as she leans forward, ignoring her nervous heart as she places her hands on either side of his face.

"(Y/n)...?" He whispers, voice quiet but his pitch is higher than usual, giving away his fear if she didn’t see the obvious terror glittering in his eyes.

"Oh, Amane..." she closes her eyes, leaning her forehead against his, "You’re an idiot."

The slight hitch of his breath makes her audibly clue him in.

"I’m already yours," she won’t bite her tongue now. He opened up to her, and she’d be damned if she didn’t meet him halfway- if not further. "I’ve been yours for a long time now."

She pulls away- but only a little. Just so she can look at him again.

He still hasn’t seemed to have closed those eyes of his, trained on her unwaveringly, surprise dancing in their shimmering depths.

They meet hers, and her heart feels full.

"I’m not sure if I should be hurt that you just called me an idiot when I’m vulnerable..." he elucidates, making her grin further, "Or just be happy that you feel the same."

"Well, I’d say..." she slides her arms past his neck, coiling around him and drawing him in close like the snake she is, "Take what you can get."

He responds by pulling her just as near with a light tug on her uniform, tilting his head a little to seal their words with a warm kiss- and (Y/n) couldn't be happier to follow.

Neither of them could have ever guessed what had lied in store for them, however.

They were both so bright and ready to take on the world by each other’s side, with hands held and fingers intertwined.

Neither of them ever thought that the future would be three graves sitting in a neat little row next to each other, not even two weeks later.

Everything had slipped between their fingers in an instant. They were a snap- two fingers slipping past each other, perfect at first until the friction caught up to them. With just a single little bang, they were far apart once again, as though they had never met in the first place.

No fairytale wedding on the moon. No handing out lollipops to patients. No graduating. No nothing.

Every inkling of a dream they had built came crashing down abruptly, leaving nothing but carnage and broken hearts.

—-

(Y/n) tugged at the bandage.

"Oi!"

"Oi!" She mocks in a higher pitch.

The blond mean mugs her.

She spits his look right back at him.

"Baby," she comments tartly, looking back down at her work, "If you want to start making complaints, stop getting hurt, why don’t you?"

Just about every day this kid kept coming back to her!

Sure, she knew he was an exorcist and all that and a cherry on top, but she also knew one boy wasn’t getting into all of this trouble by himself.

Almost made her want to march right up to that bathroom and give that mystery a piece of her mind.

Mystery number seven...

That damned boy.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!"

"My bad," she quickly removes her hands.

Yeah. Okay. That time was actually her bad. That bandage was looking a teensy bit tight.

"Distracted, doc?"

Doc.

"No."

She looks down at his wrist, gently loosening the bandage on it.

(Y/n) (L/n) was not a doctor, nor would she ever become one.

However, the school had a funny way of taunting her, withholding her as the rumored mystery number eight- the medical mystery, it so happened.

Mostly, her job consisted of patrolling around and taking care of the living idiots. Fixing them up, popping a sucker in their mouth to shut them up, before she was on her way again.

The rest of her official job as a mystery consisted of gathering... specific- er, well, exotic goods, like mermaid scales for example, and things of that nature.

It wasn’t much, but it tended to keep her busy.

Well, that was a lie. Her job was all she had. Not to mention it wasn’t an easy one either. Sticking with the previous example, Mermaids weren’t exactly jumping all over the idea of showering her with their lovely little scales. Despite being a healer, her line of work got her into more fights than not.

"So... do I still get a sucker...?"

She blinks, looking up at the blond, realizing she was zoning out again.

"Hah?"

He smiles at her, nonetheless, a smile much like the sun, in the way that it makes her squint and look away.

"Yeah, whatever," she huffs, reaching into her apron.

She retrieves a handful.

"What flavor?" She shoves it at him, not at all intending to help him choose or find said flavor.

Okay, so maybe the candy wasn’t a required part of her job, but hey, a little bribery never hurt.

She’d much rather be rumored as the helpful little medic with the candy than the crazed doctor butcherer or something.

"Wh- Oi! Only one!" She slaps his hand away, glaring venomously as he laughs.

"Please, (L/n)-san!" He beams at her, bright as ever, not exactly begging, "The mokke are hungry too."

She looks down, not at all surprised at the gathering of pink bunny-like creatures at her feet.

"Right, right. Sorry."

She then promptly offers them the biggest smile she can muster, hoping to display just how sorrowful she was for them.

"Maybe I should start practicing my veterinary skills too!"

And just like that, they’re running for the hills, no more pink creatures crowding her, not even within her sights. It’s almost impressive.

She drops the smile along with the rest of the lollipops back into her frilly ivory apron in exchange for her usual deadpan expression, "Thought so."

But she notices there’s one particular annoyance left standing.

"What do you want, boy?" She drops a hand on her hip and her head to the side, (e/c) eyes narrowing "Got some internal bleeding or something I’m not seeing?"

He gives his head a shake, sending his spiky blonde locks bouncing.

"No. I was just thinking."

She comments immediately, "Well, I’m not into studying therapy either. Move along."

However, he only chuckles at this, amused as though she didn’t completely mean it.

"Aren’t doctors supposed to be nice?"

She looks up at the boy, and contrary to him, she is further unamused.

He only continues to smile at her, undeterred as ever, blue eyes bright with life.

"Maybe," she offers him a shrug, "I’m not a doctor."

(Y/n) decides she likes the way his whole face scrunches up when she pokes his nose, like she pressed some kind of button, "The only thing I am, is dead."

"Well, I think you’re very kind," he says, arguing his own point.

She flashes him a funny look. He was the one who implied she wasn’t nice. She just confirmed that theory. She agreed with him! So, why the hell did he feel the need to continue arguing with her? ... himself? She wasn’t even sure. What a weirdo this one was.

"You just show you’re kind in the way that you’re really mean and you nag a lot."

For a moment, the words make her falter.

For a moment, all she can see is loving amber eyes framed by long dark lashes and darker choppy locks.

For a moment.... they sound so much like something he would say to her...

"It just means you care! And you have a big repressed heart under all those sour looks!"

There’s a finger in her face, snapping her from those melancholy memories. She promptly brushes it away to reveal the scowl marking her lips.

"Yeah? Then explain why I don’t care, then."

But he’s on his feet now, waving away this idea as he grabs his bag, "You do. That’s why you help me all the time!"

No.

That was mostly so Teru didn’t exorcise that idiot no. 7. If he saw all the cuts and bruises Kou got from working under him...

Well, not that she cared about that idiot either.

As far as she was concerned, all these boys were idiots- and she was just going to calmly stay in her lane, away from them all!

That number seven boy was nothing to her except a poor excuse for a boss and distant memories.

The other blond was just a slightly taller menace.

And this smiling idiot was nothing but that. An idiot.

...

......

And… maybe just a little bit of a friend as well...

She waves to him.

"Don’t come back," she says to him.

Yet, he responds cheerfully, waving excitedly, "I’ll see you tomorrow, (L/n)-san!"

-

Tomorrow comes and tomorrow goes.

Week in. Week out.

It was all the same to her.

She did her job. She helped students. She got what she needed. She finished her work.

She kept herself busy and never glanced his way.

That was how it was.

That’s how it was supposed to be.

That’s how it always was.

"Long time no see, (N/n)-chan!"

But that familiar voice shattered any vague sense of order she had gathered over the fifty years since she had last heard it.

There’s a black patch on his cheek now, but changing the cover of a book didn’t change its wicked contents.

Nor did it remove the pages stained with her blood.

"You look well," he tells her, voice high with a giggle, "How old are you now? Sixty? Seventy?"

(Y/n) flinches as his lithe fingers brush her cheeks with unseen stains coating them, but she can’t move away. Her feet have sunken into the concrete below, holding her in place as her chest seizes, ever nerve lighting on fire with the need to disappear.

"You really don’t look it!" He tells her, and she can only watch as his lips pull up to reveal his sharp fangs, "Nope, nope! You don’t look a day past your last living one."

Her lips part almost desperately, but there’s a weight on her tongue and a knot in her throat that squanders any attempt for the words she already lacks.

"Or- well, your second to last day."

His fingers brush past her face to trace through her (h/l) (h/c) locks, a thoughtful hum trickling into her ears "You weren’t much to look at in your last moments, were you?"

As he pulls back his hand, her knees wobble, threatening to slip out from under her.

"Or should I say there wasn’t much left of you to look at?"

"T-Tsukasa-" It’s only one word but it leaves her nearly gasping, the weight on her chest more than paralyzing.

"Hmm~?"

She meets his eyes and finds her scarcely gathered will crumbling instantly.

Those big honey-hued eyes that could so quickly go from looking like someone she loved so dearly to narrowing, squinting as though he needed glasses, reminding her they belonged to something, someone different that was much more sinister.

"(N/n)-chan..." He says suddenly.

His voice is no longer light and airy.

It’s cold, detached, and the exact sound of all her hopes of coming out of this unscathed shattering at once.

"You know why I’m here, don’t you?"

-

"(L/n)-san!"

Kou wears a big smile as he marches into the elusive number eight’s boundary.

He was going to show her today!

Because today, Kou did not have a single bruise on him!

The second he finished up with Hanako and found his feet pulling him instinctively back to the apparition’s boundary, the realization hit him like a train.

Knowing he was perfectly fine, for once, he found himself practically racing to get to her boundary, ready to rub it in her pretty face that he could take care of himself! She’d know now that he was cool and didn’t always need her to baby him.

"(L/n)-san, you’ll never guess!" He throws back another patient’s curtain.

Only to once again reveal nothing but an empty hospital bed.

However, with half of the nurse’s office still unexplored, there was still plenty of possibility for the apparition to appear.

That’s what he told himself.

But deep down, a strange feeling was cuddling in his stomach.

(L/n) was always in her boundary right now.

She’d never admit it, but he knew it was so she could be here to patch him up after his duties with Hanako.

And sure, they didn’t always stay in the office when she fixed him back up, but they always met here.

So, throwing back the last curtain...

"(L/n)-san?"

His brows are knitted together as he asks the air around him.

Where the hell was she?

-

"I’m telling you! She’s missing! Vanished! Disappeared! Gone!"

Hanako draws a card from the deck sitting between him and the mokke in the third-floor bathroom’s window sill.

He places it down with the collection of cards littered in the space before him.

"Your move," he comments quietly.

"Hanako!"

He swallows.

Hanako should have known better.

He should have kept the boy away from her just as he kept himself away from her.

When Kou had first come to him about the pretty spirit he had stumbled upon- he had almost hit the nail right on the head, killing what could come from such an introduction instantly.

But he didn’t.

Because deep down, Hanako couldn’t keep away from her.

He needed some kind of tie- some measly form of connection to her- he longed for it, ached for it, craved it...

Until it came to him in the form of Kou, and his friendship with the medical mystery.

Kou was an open book. Especially when it came to (Y/n). One little question and he was rambling about the spirit. How she seemed, what she had scolded him about that day, how mean she was, how kind she was, how beautiful she was.

Jealousy would stick to his lungs like tar, making him feel sicker with longing than any cigarette would. The boy would talk about her like she put the stars in the sky- and would wonder to him just how she did it, a question he had been asking himself for over fifty years.

But on the other hand, hearing about her was refreshing. It was like a drop of water a second away from dying in a desert. He couldn't ever get enough of her. She was an addiction he could never quite get his fix of but sure as hell couldn’t get rid of either.

"Are you even listening to me?"

He was.

"I told you! She’s gone, Hanako!"

She was. She had been gone for fifty damned years.

Fifty years and he still didn’t have a single solid idea of what to do about it now.

"What if she’s in danger, or she needs help, or-"

"She’s dead."

The words leave a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. He’s not talking to the boy.

But he responds, none the wiser.

"And?"

His eyes flicker over to the blond.

Kou stands tall as ever, his fists curled tightly at his sides, a burning emotion in his icy eyes that he didn’t even want to unpack.

"Dead or not, she could still need help."

He couldn’t even help her the first time she needed it.

What was he supposed to do now?

"Please, Hanako," Kou pleads, voice low with despair, "If something happened to her I would never forgive myself."

Hanako sighs at this.

Something had already happened to her once and Hanako still hadn’t forgiven himself.

He pushes to his feet.

"Only a quick look."

-

(Y/n) choked on her own breath, shoes slamming hard against the linoleum floor she’d known her whole life. The hall she’d walk to her classes in, linger in with old friends before everything hit the fan. The halls that once only held the danger of being late due to bustling crowds.

Burning liquid seeped between her trembling fingers as she pressed them firmer over her wound, a sharp gasp pushing past her already parted lips.

She just had to make it to the nurse’s office, her boundary.

Tsukasa couldn’t kill her there. Not as easily anyways.

The staircase was within sight.

She struggled to wedge a glance over her shoulder, fingers slipping from her wound slightly, making her grip her shoulder tighter.

Tsukasa only gazed after her blankly, dull eyes looking black, narrowed as he advanced, efficient and deadly in the way that he moved along after her.

A cry caught in her throat as she whipped her head back around.

The staircase! That was-

Oh god.

A dirty shoelace caught under a frantic foot.

The staircase greeted her greedily, peppering her face with kisses as it yanked her into its arms despite her protesting choked scream, wet hand slipping right off her injury as she desperately searched for something to hold, something to grab, something to save her as she came tumbling down.

But nothing could save her.

Nothing could ever save (Y/n).

She slammed roughly against where the stairs met the wall and turned, thrusting her hands out instinctively to claw at the wall in hopes of stopping only to accidentally shove herself down the rest of the depths.

Her butt met the stairs first this time when she hit, and she could only watch in blurry horror when suddenly her feet were soaring over her head- the next moment managing to slam her face against the floor again.

Fate was cruel.

Her head was spinning as she fought the earthquakes consuming her, forcing herself up on her hands and knees to stare down at a bloody floor. She needed to get a grip and she needed to get one fast.

Yet- her movements were painfully slow as she sat up and back on her knees, blinking the clouds from her eyes as she tried to look up, past the ringing in her ears.

Tsukasa descended the stairs in a much calmer fashion, grinning as he hopped down the last two- or four if her vision was anything to go by.

However, in truth, there was nothing to be done.

Her pounding head had been clogged with honey. Her limbs felt tingly from blood loss and the revenants of adrenaline. She was struggling just to blink in place.

Tsukasa smiled at her almost sweetly.

"Are you done?"

But they both knew the answer to that.

This story unraveling between them has already been written before.

She lifted her hands up to the crouched boy.

His smile curled into a grin as he grew ever closer to devour her as a whole.

But (Y/n)’s hands stopped at his chest and so did he.

She pressed. Pushing him.

Away. Away. Away.

It’s all her foggy brain could come up with in that moment.

His chest vibrates under her blood stained fingertips with a warm laugh.

It’s burning.

Scalding. Scalding. Scalding.

"Oh, (N/n)-chan... is that it?"

A labored breath falls past her lips.

"Is that all you’ve got?"

She squints up at him under the harsh lights above, fighting to give him the nasty look she so longed to give him- along with a piece of her mind.

She forces her lips apart, taking in a shaky breath.

"(L/n)-san!"

Tsukasa hums, mirroring her surprise at the sudden interruption.

"Now you’ve done it," he tells her with a bored sigh, "You’ve gotten us both caught."

If he didn’t want to get caught, then maybe he shouldn’t always be trying to kill her.

That’s what she wants to snap at him.

But her face twists, body erupting into flame thinly veiled by the adrenaline rushing back into her veins as the cruel boy drags her up onto her unable feet.

"What did you do to her?!"

Adrenaline or not- she feels like screaming out as he pulls her bad arm around his shoulders, draping her like some kind of shawl, his other arm coiled around her waist with a vice-like grip.

"Oh, nothing much really!" His singsong voice makes her head ache, "Nothing compared to what I want to."

"Can’t you at least lie?" She hisses through her clenched teeth, wincing too hard to even look at him as she desperately tries to will the pain away.

"Lying is bad, (N/n)-chan!" He huffs and she doesn’t even need to lift her head to see his sour pout.

"So is being mean to girls."

Tsukasa and herself have very different reactions to this voice.

"AMANE!"

She blinks her eyes harshly, not able to catch herself from looking up for him.

The blur dissolves from her gaze, leaving her with the sight of an all too familiar boy.

Amane stands in the wake, cape flowing out behind him. Those short choppy black locks tucked under his cap, amber eyes almost glowing as they peer under the brim. They’re almost narrowed as sharp as the kitchen knife clutched in his hand, knuckles tinted white with effort.

She realizes then that she hasn’t caught such a glimpse of him in a while now.

Of course, the way their shattered connection- or lack of to be more precise- that wasn’t an odd occurrence at all. It was expected.

But she remained like a broken record player, the stylus still catching at the old cracks in her heart.

Even more knowing that this situation was almost all too familiar.

"Aren’t you the one who was always saying (N/n)-chan was special?" She flinches in surprise, snapped right out of her thoughts as a hand grips her face, fingers digging into the soft squish of her cheeks, turning her head. She blinks rapidly, meeting those inquisitive golden eyes. "So- she’s not just any girl."

A scowl makes its way to her lips as she tries to tug her face away from his unbudging hand.

"Let her go, Tsukasa. This isn’t about her and you know it."

Tsukasa looks away from her at this, releasing her head, "Oh, Amane. That’s rich."

His arm around her waist squeezes warningly, "(N/n)-chan and I are friends too, y’know! You should learn to share!"

What a damned hypocrite.

"Friends don’t hurt each other!"

She almost wishes her fun road trip down the stairs had fully knocked her out.

Swaying useless on her feet, pounding head victim to the yelling around her- it was almost more hellish than the stab wound in her shoulder and that was saying something.

"Don’t you listen, boy?" Tsukasa sighs as she lifts her hand, trying to be subtle.

Her shitty plan was to try and push him away again.

But he only snatched it up, before it could even reach him halfway, giving it a squeeze.

"(N/n)-chan and I share a special bond!"

Yeah, it’s called ‘death’- which is what all murderers and their victims shared.

She tries to wiggle her fingers free from him but he turns to her with an unsettling grin, "Isn’t that right?"

She does reply.

"Get off me." 

It’s just not the one he’s looking for.

Tsukasa sighs, shaking his head with a pout.

She didn’t actually expect her request to work though.

But her head slamming back against the ground again is a sure-fire sign that he had let her go.

"Whoopsie daisy," he chirps as her vision swims.

She can vaguely make out his figure, towering over her.

But those eyes glaring down at her are unmistakable.

For a moment, staring up at him like this, panic stirs in her heart.

The sight was a carbon copy of the one as she was met with as she took her last breath fifty years ago.

The only difference this time was that she was already dead before her heavy lids sank shut.

-

It’s almost homely what greets her as she creeps away from oblivion.

Though, not what most would consider homely.

After all, the stinging smell of antiseptic and the blinding lights unavoidable even behind closed eyes were as impersonal as impersonal things could get.

But they were something (Y/n) knew well.

So, she wasn’t at all surprised when she finally willed herself to crack open her eyelids only to find a shitty poster staring back at her.

It was the kitten one.

‘Don’t forget to wash your paws!’.

(Y/n) is glaring at it miserably when she hears it.

"You’re awake."

"No shit," she croaks, but people always said she was ambitious- which is why she closes her eyes in hopes of falling back unconscious.

Anything to escape the shitshow she had escaped the first time by doing so.

Speaking of which...

"What happened?"

She almost doesn’t want to know.

He answers.

"That should be the least of your worries right now."

It’s not the answer she wants.

Her eye twitches, but she fights to keep them closed, still hanging onto the idea of sleep.

"You do realize when you tell someone not to worry they do exactly that?"

"I didn’t tell you not to worry. I just said that shouldn’t be your biggest worry."

She doesn’t respond.

He jabs.

"I don’t think you’ve ever stopped worrying for a second of your life."

She opens her eyes at this.

But not very much due to her glare which she turns her head to the side to give him.

Amane sits at her bedside, a chair dragged up next to her. He’s got his arms crossed resting on the mattress, his head nestled atop them.

Those eyes catch her own.

She looks away, a tired sigh slipping from her lips.

She looks for something to fill the silence.

Anything, really.

She just doesn’t want to be left alone with him. Left alone with her thoughts.

Left alone with thoughts of him.

"Who did this chop job?"

She finds conversation in the bandages wrapped around her arm/shoulder where Tsukasa had stabbed her. She sure they had never even so much as watched one of those stupid hot doctor shows before playing doctor on her.

"Me."

She looks up at him again, surprise pricking her.

She blinks at him as he holds her gaze again.

"You used to patch me up all the time... I must have picked up a thing or two."

"No, you didn’t," she squints at him, a scowl pulling at her lips, "This is the worst dressing I’ve ever seen- and I’m self-taught."

Her words linger in the air but are smothered by the silence after them.

They only gaze at each other for the longest time.

Before she watches the corners of Amane’s lips uncontrollably tug upward.

He quickly looks away.

"Really? I saved you and that’s the first thing you tell me?"

"Do better then," she turns away too, sticking her nose up as she utters, "Maybe open your ears and listen for once and I wouldn’t always have to scold you."

But she’s stunned, staring off as his soft chuckle sneaks into her ears.

When was the last time she had heard him laugh...?

She’s still as her hand is lifted.

Squeezed lightly.

"How do you feel? Can I get you anything?"

She can’t help but turn back to him.

She must look as sad as she feels because his face falls.

(Y/n) swallows, speaking up before he can.

"No. I’m fine."

But he still holds her hand in his.

Watching her.

Waiting.

But for what?

She was waiting too. Gazing right back. But she didn’t know either.

"I’m sorry."

She did know this wasn’t what she wanted, however.

He wears a deep frown, a vulnerable sparkle in his honey shaded depths as he looks down, holding her hand tighter.

"I knew he was back," he’s almost mumbling. If they were even an inch further apart she was sure she wouldn’t be able to hear him. "I just... I didn’t think he would find you so soon."

Her heart weighs.

She sighs, squeezing his hand.

"Amane, I’ve told you already."

She gazes down at their hands, telling him again.

"It’s not your fault. It’s not your job to protect me."

He never stays quiet after these words.

"It is. You should never have gotten hurt in the first place. I should’ve-"

She interrupts tiredly, "-Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve. It’s been fifty years."

"You might be able to change the future- but the past is the past," (Y/n) reaches out with her other hand, gently hooking her fingers under his chin to get him to look up at her, "Amane."

He reluctantly shifts his eyes up to find her (e/c) ones gazing deeply.

"There’s nothing to be done. Let it go."

She watches his brows pull together.

"I don’t want to let it go," he says firmly, lacing his fingers with hers, "I don’t want to let you go."

She lets out a quiet breath, "I’m already gone."

He winces.

She’s unhesitating as she tells him, "But you weren’t supposed to be. You were supposed to live."

This was the part where he snapped at her. This was the part where they usually began to fight.

This was the part where they fought, got mad at each other, and then proceeded to avoid each other for the next ten years.

"Back then..."

His voice is low, tentative.

"I only ever thought there were two kinds of love."

She looks down, watching as his thumb runs along hers, listening to his careful words.

"The kind you would kill for," she immediately jerks her eyes back up to meet his, but he avoids her eyes, still looking down, "and the kind you would die for."

Well...

She guesses that was understandable to think given the rocky road of what their relationship had been.

"But I realize now... for you..."

He finally looks up at her, eyes gentle as they greet hers.

"You are the kind of love I would live for."

His words stun her.

So much that she’s genuinely speechless for the first time in a long, long while.

Amane seems to grow a little nervous with her silence, now looking down again, toying with her hand limp in his.

"Well..." she finally finds her voice.

And a scolding as she reaches forward to knock her fist atop his hat.

"It’s a little too late for that!" She tells him sternly, almost exasperatedly, "Fifty years? Couldn’t you have thought of that before you died?"

"Wh- Hey! Don’t be mean!" He glowers, trying to brush her whacking hands away.

But she leans forward just as quickly, yanking him ruthlessly into a hug.

"You idiot!" She huffs at him, despite the way she squeezes him tight.

It’s like a breath of fresh air- acting on age-old cravings like this.

Sometimes when you wanted something and found yourself longing for it- it sounded way better than what it actually was.

But this was exactly as she remembered it.

A big smile breaks out onto her lips, which she’s able to bury in the crook of his neck again, just like she once had. She melts like putty as he wraps his arms around her and pulls her close.

"I know," he grumbles sourly, admitting defeat, "I’m sorry."

"You better be," she says, uncaring that her words are muffled.

"If I say I’m stupid will you forgive me...?"

She pulls away from him after carefully masking her smile.

He blinks at her stony expression, worries instantly finding him.

She can’t help but give into temptation.

"You know, I’m pretty sure I read in one of my biology textbooks that kisses make everything better."

His anxieties melt right off his face- leaving him almost offended for a moment that she was teasing him now of all times.

But he smiles, running his hand up along her back to cradle the back of her neck.

"Oh?" He pulls her in close, and she can feel his breath tickle her upturning lips, "Well- I may suck at bandages, but I’m actually pretty great at kissing."

"Yeah?" Her eyes flicker up to meet his under her lashes.

He responds by closing the minuscule gap between them, his movements almost too sweet as she melts into them.

He was right. He was pretty great at kissing.

#jshk #jshk x reader #tbhk #tbhk x reader #toilet bound hanako kun #toilet bound hanako kun x reader #jibaku shounen hanako kun #jibaku shounen hanako kun x reader #hanako x reader #amane yugi x reader #breadkinswrites

[itstittycitybaby]

From the Ashes We are Born (Part 4)

A/N: here we go with yet another part of this series! Tomorrow I will be posting another fic with a certain loveable character, but V will still be given the love and appreciation he so deserves. 

TW: Sexual assault Attempt:

“You want me to do what?” It was barely 8:30 am; the sun had grazed you with its warm embrace. “Ah, you’re up early,” V had remarked once he heard you shuffle into the kitchen. His trademark apron was tied snugly around his waist. You grumbled in reply and begrudgingly sat down in a kitchen chair. A mug of coffee had slid your way. It was delicious. V shifted foot to foot as he stood there in the kitchen. You didn’t think V could ever be sheepish, let alone nervous. “It’ll be fine, my dear. All you have to do is follow my lead.” You drummed your fingers on the table as you stared up at the smiling mask looking down at you. Even though you couldn’t see V’s face you knew he was hopeful. “Alright V, just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” V’s hands clasped together, enthused. “Aha! Thank you mademoiselle, I appreciate it!You can trust me;danger will not whisk you away from my grasp.” You hated how chirpy he sounded as he prattled on about his plans. V’s voice sounded muddled as he chatted excitedly. You rubbed your temples with the tips of your fingers. “It’s not even ten,” you muttered.

The face that stared back at you was unrecognizable. The mirror mocked you as you sat there, gazing at the new face in front of you. V had twirled the chair around in front of the mirror, the counter filled with makeup and brushes. You were surprised that he had makeup, considering he wore the guy fawkes mask 24/7. “Do you not like it, my dear?” You snapped from your thoughts as you turned to your masked friend. “It’s not that I hate it, just not my style.” You gestured to the  pink blush and bright pink lipstick V had painted onto your face. “I’m used to a more natural look, or with the winged eyeliner I usually wear.” V chuckled, “You dislike looking like a little girl.” “Can you blame me,” you huffed. “You are very good with makeup though, I’ll give you that V.” He thanked you while he pinned the pink bows in your pig tails. You suppressed a shiver as his gloved fingers brushed over your neck lightly. Stop it! Focus on the task at hand! You definitely did not blush when his chest rested against your back as he pinned the last bow to your head. “Funny how this guy is a priest and a pedophile. Two birds with one stone,” you joked, trying to calm yourself down. “The world won’t surely miss him when he’s gone,” V replied as he stepped back. His fingers hovered over your shoulder, almost as if he wanted to gently brush them across your skin. Through the mirror you could tell V was staring at you. It was silent for a few moments as the two of you held each other’s gaze. “D-do you know what I’m gonna wear,” you stammered, breaking the silence. You hoped to god V didn’t notice that you were blushing, if he did he didn’t he say anything. “Ah yes,” he said, “You’re going to love the costume, too.” You chuckled, shaking your head. “I’m dying to find out.”

You fiddled with the hem of the dress as you waited for the priest to enter. V wasn’t kidding about the dress. The skirt was wide and very pink. The only thing you liked about it was the white blouse and the short lace socks you wore with the pink maryjanes. Nerves jumped inside of your stomach. What if this all went wrong? You felt sick as you waited for the damn guy to get in here. You shuddered at what the assistant or chapel dude had said (like you would know what he did.) “You’re much older than expected. It should be fine, you look young enough.” You almost gagged when those words came out of his mouth. But you gave him the sweetest smile you could muster and a gritted “thanks.” His eyes swept over you one more time before leading you to a room with a four poster bed. Regret washed over you;you regretted agreeing to help V with this...particular task. “All will be fine mademoiselle. I promise.” His words rang in your head along with the instructions he had gone over with you. Yes, you felt guilty for having to live off of him for so long and disrupting his peace, but death didn’t seem terrible as you stood there in the priest’s room. “It’s the least we can do,” you reassured yourself. “For V.” The white walls of the room were bare; not a single decoration of some kind hanging on the walls. It was incredibly boring. Your eyes followed the dried paint on the walls. The strokes of the brush made little swirls and intricate, abstract designs. Has it been 5? 10? 20 minutes? Do I sit on the bed? Do I just stand here like an idiot? No matter how much you hated standing there,  you knew if V asked you anything you would do it in a heartbeat. ‘Darling, would you mind handing me the rag?’ ‘Would you mind holding this fabric up for me?’ ‘Mademoiselle, could you risk your life for me and die by my hand?’ You snorted at the last one. Even if V were to ask that, you would. It’s because we have a crush. “No, no we don’t, shut up shut up shut-” The door swung open and you immediately tensed up. Relax, get in tune, V will protect us. An older balding man stood in front of you. His robes reached to the floor and he had beady eyes that looked black. God was he ugly. You felt disgusted as his eyes raked over your body. The gleam in his eyes made you feel sick.

Good thing father taught me to be an A class liar. “Hello, sir.” You gave him a smile;your eyes looked all innocent and doelike. Your lips parted as you spoke. Don’t over do it, be innocent and childlike. It makes me feel gross for thinking that. You averted your gaze, trying to pass it off as looking shy. “You’re beautiful,” he said, “I can’t believe I doubted your beauty for a second.” Forcing a smile you whispered, “Thank you, sir.” The priest’s eyes seemed to gleam at that. “So polite.” He slowly strolled over to you like he would to a scared child (the thought of that made you feel sick). His slimy hand grabbed your arm; his grip was tight as he looked into your eyes. “Go on, get on the bed.” You gulped as he let go of your arm. “Yes sir.” You felt terrified at the sound of the door closing and the click of a lock. You sat at the end of the bed, your legs pressed together. An ugly smile graced his lips as he saw you. You noticed the tent in his pants and wanted to puke. 

Everything happened so fast. One minute he was at the door and the next he pounced on you. You let out a shriek as your back hit the bed. The priest’s body was pressed up against yours. His hands traveled down your waist, to your legs. They ghosted up your smooth thighs and up to your panties. “N-no,” you yelped, squirming under his body. Where the hell was V? Everything felt hazy and unreal. It was almost dreamlike as  you laid there at this creep’s mercy. This can’t be happening, this isn’t real. Where the fuck is V? Squirming, you tried to throw the priest off of you but to no avail you were stuck. “You’re going to take what I give you and you will like it,” the priest snarled, “stop moving bitch.” His grip was like iron; his hands had wrapped around your throat, squeezing in tightly. Your lungs burned as they begged for air. Hands creeping up to his, you tried tugging at them to let them go. It was no use. Circles and staticky designs danced around the air. The vision in your eyes was starting to darken and the priest’s fingers had started to ghost over the waistband of your underwear. You were pinned underneath him,helpless. There was a wolfish grin on his lips. You were the wolf’s prey; a rabbit trying to wiggle underneath the wolf’s weight. He said he’d be here what the fuck happened? I’m gonna get taken advantage of, I’m going to die. He said he’d protect me, he said-

Bang! Bang! CRASH! The door smashed, pieces of its wood crashing onto the door. “What the-,” the priest shouted. There, V stood in the broken door way. His posture was tense and he searched for you as he stood there. V’s fist clenched and his blood boiled as he saw you under the priest. The look on your face had sheer terror written all over it. “It’s the terrorist!” The priest jumped off of you and ran towards a bible sitting on his dresser. Air filled your lungs and you hacked loudly. The burning in your chest and throat made you cough.Tears made your eyes blurry as they fell from your cheeks. Getting composed, you remembered where you were. Stop sitting there and move! Run!  Your body was shaking with adrenaline and everything felt numb. You could hear grunts of pain from the direction where V and the priest was but you didn’t care. Tumbling off the bed you covered your face so you wouldn’t smack it against the floor. You sucked in a breath as your legs smacked onto the hard tile. Everything was burning. The ghost of the priest’s fingers burned your skin and you felt disgusted. You scurried onto your legs and watched as V flung a knife in the priest’s stomach, causing him to tumble over. A groan escaped the priest’s lips as he hunched over, holding his side. You admired V’s dance of knives as you watched him twirl another dagger with his fingers and slit the priest’s throat. His hands immediately flew up to his throat and his face paled. Blood gurgled out of his mouth until there was nothing but silence. The priest’s corpse fell with a thud and that is when V turned to you. “I apologize darling, I had some trouble along the way. He didn’t touch you did he?” Tears fell from your eyes;you looked like a mess. Your hair was tousled and your mascara left streaks on your cheeks. You just shook your head no, not trusting yourself to speak. “I-I wasn’t…” you trailed off after swallowing the tears and the huge lump in your throat. More tears fell from your eyes as you thought of the prospect of what if. What if V hadn’t shown up in time. What if he hadn’t even shown up at all. What if we were actually- A whimper escaped your lips as you tried your damned hardest not to sob. 

V let out a sigh and enveloped you in his arms. He felt incredibly guilty he was a tad bit too late. Any later and well… V’s black tunic was damp from your tears. His hands hung low above your waist and your head nuzzling into his chest. His wig tickled you a bit but you didn’t mind. He was warm and comforting. V’s arms felt safe as he held you tightly. Giving you one last squeeze, he pulled away. Your red eyes stared back into the guy fawkes mask. How badly you wanted to kiss his lips. Or well, the mask’s at the very least. “Are you ready, mademoiselle,” V’s usually chipper voice sounding dark. Nodding, you wiped your eyes. “Let’s go home,” you whispered. V smiled underneath his mask. His gloved hand gently placed itself on your back as he led the way. How badly you wanted to melt into his touch. “To home, then.” Our home.

#v for vendetta x reader #v for vendetta #x reader

[amarits]

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

So very many, but rather than go through them I’ll share a scene from Camp Murder. I’ve got a couple chapters of that one written that I keep almost posting. The kiddos are middle-schoolers attending a summer camp, and Roy is having a good ol’ sulk in the woods.

--

Roy had been following rabbit tracks for ten minutes when they stopped abruptly at a set of large cat tracks. He crouched beside them, studying the shape of the pads. Were those cougar tracks? This close to camp? He took pictures of the clearer tracks and started following them. Backwards, of course. The last thing he wanted was to actually find a cougar. But maybe if he could get an idea of where it was coming from, he’d know if it was a risk to the campers. Usually, cougars avoided areas with people. 

He followed the tracks on a winding path out of the thinner, friendlier woods that surrounded the camp into the thicker, untamed forest that stretched on for half the state. He and Ollie had hiked for days through this and never gotten close to the other side. 

In a mile, the flat ground would start rising in small hills that eventually became mountains. They usually did a camp trip to one of the smaller hills at the end of the week, and had a cookout at the top to celebrate “conquering the mountain”. He snorted. It was ridiculous. He and Ollie had climbed real mountains and that took days, not a couple of hours of casual walking. 

He lost the tracks at one of the low rock outcrops stretching out from the mountains. That was probably good. The mountains were where the cougar was supposed to be. Far from camp, and unlikely to bother them when they came out as a group. Still raised the question of why it had come so close in the first place, but maybe it was hunting a deer. 

He walked around the outcrop, looking for more tracks. He should probably start heading back towards camp. It was already going to be almost dinner by the time he got back, and Ollie was only gonna get angrier the later he was. 

His eye caught on another cougar track and he turned to inspect it. It was next to what appeared to be… shoe prints? 

“Hello!” a voice exclaimed at the same time that a small figure swung down to dangle upside down from a branch directly in front of him. 

“Jiminy Christmas!” Roy exclaimed, stumbling backwards and raising his hands in… was that supposed to be a martial arts position? Stupid. What was he going to do, karate chop the threat?

“What are you doing out here?” the figure asked. Now that it was still, Roy could see it was a boy about his age with black hair, blue eyes, and deeply tan skin. Mexican, maybe? His bright orange camp shirt hung down around his shoulders and he swung back and forth on the branch by his knees. 

“What am I doing out here?” Roy asked. “What are you doing out here?”

“Talking to the birds.” He had an accent, but it didn’t sound the same as the Mexican kids he’d met. More European.

“Talking to the… What are you, a Disney princess?” 

The boy grinned like that was a compliment instead of the insult it was meant to be. “Maybe.” He swung harder and let go with his legs, flipping to land on his feet in front of Roy. Roy stepped back to avoid being hit, but shouldn’t have bothered. The boy moved like he was born to fly. 

“I’m Dick,” he said.

“Roy,” Roy replied cautiously. “Do you even know where you are?” 

“Sure!” Dick exclaimed, turning his whole body to point. “Camp is that way.” 

Roy silently pointed in the actual direction, about 40 degrees clockwise from where Dick was pointing. He’d made sure to keep track of landmarks and the sun while he walked so he wouldn’t get lost. 

Dick kept his finger raised. “What makes you think you’re more right than me?” 

“I live here,” Roy said, also continuing to point steadily in the correct direction. He could keep this up as long as Dick could.

“In the woods?”

“Basically. My dad’s a counselor. I’ve been here for months.”

“Huh,” Dick said, mulling this over as he lowered his hand. “That sounds awful.”

“I know, right!” Roy exclaimed. It was the first time someone had said “awful” instead of “great” or “fun” and he felt vindicated. “I am so tired of everything. You’re new, though. Why’d you skip out on activities?”

“They were trying to make us sit still and make bracelets and it was sooooo boring.” As if to punctuate his point, Dick flipped backwards into a perfect handstand, and then just stayed on his hands while he talked. “I asked to use the bathroom, and then a bird was singing at me and that seemed way more interesting so I followed it.” He whistled in an actually pretty good imitation of a chickadee. 

Roy felt weird talking to Dick’s feet, so he crouched to look him in the face. “Well, you’re lucky I found you. You’d probably be lost forever and die.”

Dick didn’t seem at all concerned, which probably meant he was stupid, but at least he was interesting.

“What are you doing out here?” Dick asked, swinging his legs back and forth without his upper body moving at all.

“Following cougar tracks.”

“Cougar?” Dick asked. Roy wasn’t sure if he didn’t recognize it because he was used to a different name for them or if English wasn’t his first language.

“Puma,” Roy said. “Mountain lion.”

At ‘lion’, Dick’s face lit up and he flipped back onto his feet. “Where?”

Roy pointed at the ground under him. “You’ve trampled all over that one.” 

Dick lifted a foot and looked down at the muddled track under his hand and shoe prints. “Whoops.”

“I’m sure there’s another one nearby,” Roy said, searching in the direction the cat seemed to be coming from. There were more shoe prints. Big ones. He glanced back at Dick’s feet. Definitely too big to be his. Poachers, maybe? He scowled. That would explain why the cougar left its territory. 

“What?” Dick asked, trailing behind him.

“Nothing. Here.” He pointed at another pawprint. This one also had a shoe print overlapping the edge, but it was cleaner. 

Dick hurried over and stared down at it. His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head. “That’s not a lion track,” he said. “It’s a tiger.”

“It’s not either,” Roy said. “Mountain lion. Lions and tigers live in Africa.”

“Not all of them,” Dick said.

“All the ones that don’t live in zoos.”

“Nuh uh,” Dick insisted. “We have a tiger.” Roy rolled his eyes at the blatant lie. “We used to have a lion too, so I know what the prints look like.”

“Mountain lion,” Roy repeated. “You don’t even know what animal I’m talking about. Mountain lions are smaller and eat deer.” He held a hand at about waist height. He thought that was right. He’d never actually seen one in person, though he and Ollie had turned around a few times when they saw tracks. 

“Then this is definitely a tiger,” Dick said. “Because the prints are tiger-sized.”

Roy gave up on trying to talk sense to him, following the shoe prints instead. It looked like there was more than one style of tread, but it was harder to tell on the dusty slope up the rocky outcrop. They were big, though. Definitely not kids. Could be counselors, but he didn’t think it was likely. Could be a band of poachers. They followed the cougar, not perfectly aligned, but definitely traveling parallel. 

“What are you doing?” Dick asked, following. While Roy tried to walk lightly, separate from the trail he was following, Dick barged through like Godzilla entering Tokyo, destroying the path underfoot. At least we’ll have no problem knowing which way we came from, he thought, annoyed.

“Tracking poachers,” he said. “Probably. I guess they could just be campers.” He didn’t think so, though. Not with how closely they were following the cougar tracks.

Though to be fair, that’s what he and Dick were doing too.

Dick gasped. “They want to kill the tiger?”

Roy felt the last of his patience slipping away. “It’s not a ti—!” His voice didn’t so much trail off as just stop, the rest of his word swallowed by a silence more complete than the end of their voices and steps. There were no bird sounds, he realized. He should have noticed earlier. Prey animals disappeared when predators were around. 

At the top of the outcrop, a man lay much too still, a bleeding gash in his side. Roy knew he was dead before his inhale became an exhale. There was too much blood. His skin was too white. He thought he could see actual guts through the sliced skin, and he was not going to throw up. He was not going to…

Oh, god. He had to at least check. He knew first aid and CPR and pretty much every emergency medical procedure they’d teach a thirteen-year-old. Normally when he was hiking, he had a simple med kit in his pouch, but he didn’t have it, didn’t have any gear at all because he hadn’t planned to be hiking. Stupid, stupid. Ollie had taught him to always be prepared, and the first time his training would have come in handy he was completely useless.

Dick reached the man before him, crouching down and pressing his hands against the open wound. Roy felt like he was pushing through water while Dick ran alongside him on the shore. He finally reached them what felt like minutes later, falling to his knees next to Dick and reaching for the man’s throat. He adjusted his fingers three times.

“There’s no pulse,” he said, his voice sounding hollow to his own ears.

“There must be something we can do!” Dick exclaimed, pushing harder against the wound.

“We can’t save someone who’s dead!” Roy yelled. His eyes lingered on the blood trailing over Dick’s hands. It took his brain a few minutes to register why. The wound was fresh, or it wouldn’t still be bleeding. Recent like the cougar attacked the man, then wandered a couple of miles towards the camp?

Or recent like it came back?

“Dick, we need to go,” Roy said, standing up and backing away, looking into the woods around them for any sign of the big cat. Or anything, really. The birds were still silent. He didn’t hear any rabbits, or squirrels. He didn’t hear anything. 

“We can’t just leave him!” Dick said, turning tear-filled eyes towards him.

“He’s dead!” Roy repeated. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. No signal, of course. It barely even got a signal in the camp. He and Ollie had high-powered walkie talkies and SEND devices for hiking, but he didn’t bring his because he was stupid. 

He turned on the camera instead and started taking pictures. The body with Dick still holding his blood-stained hands to the wound. The surroundings. Anything that might be a landmark.

“What are you doing?” Dick snapped, like he thought Roy was some kind of sick paparazzi. 

“We need to go get someone and bring them back here,” Roy said. “I can get us back to the camp, but I’m not positive I could find our way back here.” He pocketed his phone, still backing up. “Come on, I’m serious. We need to…” 

He stopped. Dick’s head snapped up at the same time, so Roy knew he heard it too. Something that sounded like deep breathing, like a motorcycle revving up, like purring broadcast through a sound speaker. He jerked his head back and forth, trying to find the source and not seeing anything. 

You weren’t supposed to run from a cougar. They’d think you were easy prey. You were supposed to try to look big and intimidating. Fight back if you had to. Grab a stick or a rock. 

But he didn’t see it. It might not see them. It would be a lot simpler to just not encounter it at all than to convince it they weren't easy prey. They were such easy prey. Who was he even trying to kid?

“Run,” he whispered.

Dick didn’t have to be told twice.

#roy harper #dick grayson #batman #young justice #batfam #ask game #ask #anon #wip #camp murder

[rengokus-eyeliner]

Hi! I just found your blog and your writting is great! I was wondering if you could do a fic for tanjiro x reader where reader is a pillar and is like 2 or 3 years older than tanjiro and he has a massive crush on her but she keeps on kid-zoneing him so he keeps on trying to prove to her that hes not a kid, and he like saves her or something and she final notices him? I'm sorry if that is too specific. Thank you

Tanjiro x Reader

Notice me! (I'm sorry for this title XD)

"Tanjiro has proven himself to be very capable." At the mention of that boy's name, you perk up, sitting a little straighter. Oyakata-sama seems to be gauging your reaction.

"I do think he is a skilled slayer. He has proven himself in previous battles." You keep your tone neutral. Measured. Oyakata-sama nods before continuing.

"Would you have any qualms on going on a mission with him?"

"Of course not." A part of you is hesitant, but you know better than to let personal vexes get in the way of your work. So you accept, the meeting is adjourned, and you set off to the rendezvous point.

Kamado Tanjiro. He has created quite a buzz among the demon slayer corps recently. Several of your colleagues think highly of him, while others dislike him. But you? What do you think of him?

You sigh, confusion muddling your thoughts. Quite simply, you think of him as a child. Although you're only a few years older than him, part of you can't help but feel as though he shouldn't have a place on the battlefield. It's hypocritical, you know, considering that you also became a slayer at the same age.

Maybe that is what makes you brush over his attempts at confessions with you. At this point, you've lost count of how many times he's told you he likes you.

"Thank you. I like you too." You pet him on the head- a blatantly unromantic gesture. The sparkle in his eyes disappear, his embarrassment turning into shame.

It's pathetic. You know. You should give him a concrete answer, yet you're leaving him hanging with evasive answers. But part of you doesn't want to turn him down.

You try to sort out your thoughts until you reach the village, where Kamado is waiting for you. When he notices that you've arrived, a blush spreads across his cute cheeks.

"Good evening, Kamado-kun." He bows before straightening. You realise he's a few centimetres shorter than you. "You do know about what this mission entails, yes? Let's get started."

"Please, call me Tanjiro." His voice quivers slightly, no doubt from his nerves. Without thinking, you pinch his cheek.

"Don't be so tense. Think of me as nothing more than a comrade." You whisper, hoping to dispel the awkward tension. Unfortunately, his face turns a few shades darker and Tanjiro refuses to meet your gaze.

"There have been reports of multiple villagers disappearing close to the edge of the forest- the work of demons, no doubt. I will keep watch there. Stay hidden, if I need your assistance we can surprise them-"

"Why can't I engage them with you?" He frowns. You know it's going to be hard to convince him to follow your plan.

"I don't want you to be hurt. Listen to me, please?" Tanjiro clammers up, and he nods wordlessly. You set to work, hiding your sword within the folds of your haori, which is long enough to conceal your uniform.

You skirt the edge of the village. It's pitch black, but you pick up the sound of footsteps. They're slow at first, but suddenly pick up pace as they approach your flank. Without a moment's hesitation, you unsheathe your blade, slicing off the demon's outstretched arms, claws inches from your neck, and pinning him down with your free arm.

"Where are the rest of the demons? I know there's more than one of you. Tell me and I may grant you a painless death." The demon snarls, snapping at you but your grip does not falter. "So be it."

Just as you're swiping the blood off your blade, you pick up the sound of more demons approaching you, a horde. Cursing, you turn to face them. You would typically be able to handle a group of demons, but the sheer number of them makes it seem daunting.

As you engage them, Tanjiro springs in front of you, swiftly dispatching a few of the unsuspecting demons in an instant. The two of you work in tandem, and the fight is over in the blink of an eye.

"Are you alright?" Tanjiro sheathes his blade, his voice steeped in concern. You're stunned. His prowess with the blade exceeded your expectations. He may be young, but his skill and passion is undeniable.

"I'm fine. Thank you for your assistance…" You sigh, "Tanjiro."

He blinks, a blush dusting his cheeks once more. Is it wrong to assume you're warming up to him? Tanjiro's heart is pounding, a bubbly feeling pooling in his chest. You've finally acknowledged him!

"I'm sorry. I'm barely a few years older than you, I should be treating you more like an equal." You chuckle, at yourself, since you've been taught a lesson. "Shall we start heading back? I'll treat you to a meal as a way of thanks."

Tanjiro mutters a small 'thank you'. You don't know what you feel for him, you don't know what to do; but one thing's for certain. He's extremely adorable.

#kamado tanjiro #kamado tanjirou #tanjirou kamado #tanjiro kamado #tanjiro x reader #tanjirou x reader #kny #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba imagine #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer imagine #demon slayer

[bearsinpotatosacks]

Cream and Two Sugars- A McChapel fic

~~

Sickbay was quiet, something he would never say aloud due to the infamous rule of "Never say it's quiet because it soon won't be". They'd done all the physicals, the check-ups and the shots, in fact, he was quite surprised at how quickly they could get work done with a day away from emergencies and a crew that would cooperate. 

Leonard was trying to get some work done, trying being the opulent word. Christine had just come back from the labs, where she'd been working on some project just to keep up her skills from the long lost days of her scientific career. 

Her hair was up today, he could see the lack of tension in her neck. She was behind him now and whistling a tune to herself as she wrote up her findings. 

He tried to look back at his PADD to read the report but the words muddled together into the same scribbled nonsense. She stood up behind him and grabbed his mug, her perfume swirled around his head. He gulped.

"Len," She was the only one allowed to call him that. "Coffee?"

"Yeah, but without all that cream and sugar shit you put in yours," 

"I have my tastes and you have yours,"

He scoffed, "Taste's one thing, masking that taste is another,"

The mugs clicked in her hand as she placed them under the duel-stream coffee maker inset into the wall. She started to hum just as she replied, "Just because you have to consume everything as bitter as your soul, doesn't mean I do,"

With that he shot up, discarding the stylus onto his desk as he rushed across the room to her side. He heard her breath catch in her throat as his warming cologne, her floral perfume and the steaming coffee scents all mixed. 

Christine had held his interest for a few months now and he had a sneaking suspicion that she did too. He knew there was a possibility she didn't, that her heart still belonged somewhat to Spock. But now the first officer was wholeheartedly in love with the Captain he thought he might have a chance.

"I think we both know my soul ain't as bitter as my coffee," He made sure his words stroked the exposed skin of her neck.

"I don't know, there's little evidence to say otherwise," 

He feigned shock, "Little evidence, have you ever seen me being kind to a child, or one o'those ensigns barely out of the Academy. I think you'll find that I am a very considerate and gentle person-"

She started to prepare her coffee when he turned her around to look deeply in her blue eyes. They gulped in unison and smiled. Both of them knew they were being silly, all these comments and the severe lack of personal space between them.

"Well, you could've had me fooled,"

She leant in and closed her arms around his chest, taking his scent in with deep breaths. He returned her embrace but held back slightly, wanting to nuzzle and kiss her neck, rub circles into her back and hold her tight enough to never let her go. 

"Come on Leonard, show me this gentle side of yourself you're so proud of," She said.

She pulled her head back and saw him pull away when she leant in to kiss him. That fiery thrill in her stomach dissipating immediately. Had she been wrong? Maybe she'd missed the signs or let her infatuation mask reality?

"Leonard, did I read this wrong?" 

He stood a few steps away when she reached for him. His own fire turned sour, almost purple as guilt became the fuel.

"No, I-"

"No? Then why are you pushing me away? We both want this, what's stopping us?"

He didn't reply. All she got was a look of despair, a sad longing in his eyes. She'd waited for Roger to show her she was truly worthy of devotion but he couldn't. His research was his devotion, never her. Spock had caught her eye and her will but he too had a reason, although a much more valid and understandable reason, not to return her feelings. She couldn't be rejected again, not after she'd been given a whiff of Leonard's splendorous love.

"Is it Starfleet? Because I don't care about them, I've always told you that. They may have trained me as a nurse but they can't control who I share my affections with," She still got no reply. "Perhaps because you're my boss? Well we both know that you've never treated me as your subordinate, everyone is in this sickbay is equally as needed and equally as busy, that's what you always say,"

He shook his head and clenched his hands. His body tensed, he was holding himself back. 

"Then what? I know the looks we've shared mean something, the jokes and he touches. So if you're not going to do something about it then I deserve to get a reason why!"

And with that, he exploded, "Because I'm ten years your senior! I've had time to live and screw up and train and have kids and be married and get divorced and chase the possibilities and you're just getting to the good part,"

"You're getting to the part where you might start experimenting with people differently, you know what you like but you want to know how you like it. You're right in the sweet spot of having all the opportunities to get promoted and train to get whatever role you choose. None of that should include settling with a crotchety old coot who doesn't know if he's gonna stay in Starfleet or go home or go somewhere else entirely." 

He stepped into her body again and took a moment to caress her face. She shuddered under his hand, letting herself relax and close his eyes, listen to the sounds of his voice. 

"I can't offer you stability, I can't offer you a willingness to go off gallivanting to who knows where. I've felt trapped in a relationship before and I don't want you to realise when you're my age that you wasted your time on a crush that got too deep when you could've been out realising who you are,"

She held onto his hand and moved it from her face. They looked away from themselves, distracting themselves withdrawing abstract shapes on the backs of their palms. A rushing blush flooded her cheeks, and his too when she checked.

Why couldn't he accept that she wanted him? Was he that lacking in self-confidence or had someone taught him wrongly over years of disagreements?

"How do you know what I'll want in ten years? And why do you get to say what I should do in my thirties," She knocked his forehead with hers and lowered her volume so only he could hear it. "I've done my experimenting, I've had my major bad relationship and my heartbreaking unrequited love. Can't we have this?"

Their hands broke apart as she ran her hands over his chest. He was lean, not too muscular and not too thin. His scrubs were smooth over her hands as she lifted their heads and prepared their lips to kiss.

"Why can't we have this? Who told us we couldn't?"

"No one,"

Their eyes locked and everything internally stopped, dropping to the floor as her head floated just within her grasp for her to pull herself back together so she could truly enjoy this. 

"Then why don't we give it a try, Len," They chuckled lowly at the nickname. "Why don't we try?"

She closed the gap and everything snapped back into place again. Her thoughts flew out of her head. His hands drew across her waist, running through the few loose hairs falling out of her bun and holding her still with a single grip.

They broke but dove back in. She'd never had something like this before. It wasn't passionate, she didn't have the urge to rip their clothes off and truly discover each other right there in the empty sickbay. Instead, it was home. It was warm blankets and old holofilms, family recipes and days spent in bed as snow fell outside.

He hummed as she pulled away to lay her head on his shoulder and lazily stroke the creases in his undershirt. They stood breathless for a moment before she whispered.

"How about we have a proper date?"

"Sounds like a good idea, how about twenty hundred hours in the mess hall on deck eight?"

"Deck eight? But no one goes there,"

He gave her that charming smile and her stomach swooped. "Exactly, no one goes there,"

They met in the middle again and fell into a routine. Her tongue flashed against his bottom lip just as he broke off and twisted his head to plunge in again. His hands grabbed a hunk of her dress in one hand as they bent slightly and bumped into the counter.

"Ehem, doctor,"

They turned with a gasp to see the Captain and the First Officer at the door to sickbay. Jim had that goofy smile on his face and Spock simply raised an eyebrow.

"I was going to say were you listening to Uhura's announcements, but you clearly were occupied," He made a signal for Bones to follow him. "We have a possible concussion on the bridge, come along,"

Leonard gave a wave to Christine and rubbed his face a few times in a failed attempt to hide the raging red flush on his face. She merely laughed and sipped her coffee as he left sickbay.

"Captain, did you get McCoy? Chekov says he's feeling drowsy," Uhura's voice said through Jim's communicator.

"Yes, we have him now, on our way up, Lieutenant,"

"Where was he Captain, I was beginning to think my transmissions weren't going through,"

"Oh not to worry, Lieutenant, Doctor McCoy was just having a meeting with his nurse," He said with a grin just as he collapsed to the floor after tripping over Leonard's outstretched foot.

"Oh sorry Captain, did I trip you up?" He said, changing his tone from joking to serious when he added. "And how about we start acting professionally, you know, how we're meant to?"

Spock gave one of his ghosts of a smile and stated simply, "That seems like far too great of a task for you Doctor, considering how you were just acting with Nurse Chapel,"

Leonard made a mental note to add more security on his office door just as he stepped onto the bridge and caught as woozy Chekov in his arms.

So, I wrote this in one night after having a day of major McChapel feels. Also, Christine is born in 2237 in TOS? I always thought she was closer to Bones' age but I guess not. I hope you enjoyed this, tell me if you did!

#leonard mccoy #bones #mcchapel #christine chapel #tos #leonard mccoy x christine chapel #bones x chapel #mccoy x chapel #the original series #tos star trek #star trek #star trek tos #star trek the original series #star trek original series #spock #jim kirk #nyota uhura #pavel chekov #spirk #k/s #bear writes #first kiss #kissing #fluff

[the-rawr-ster]

Title: To Die In Your Arms

Chapter 2: Bread

W/C: 1611

Warnings: mentions of famine, poverty, suicide

A/N: Send an ask to be added to my tag list.

-a month later-

Eren and his friends offered to let you stay with them but you politely declined their offer.

“Are you sure? It’s not safe alone, especially for someone your age,” Armin said with a look of concern on his face.

“I’ll be okay, but thank you. It’s already hard enough for you guys. I’d rather not be a burden,” you replied, kicking at the dirt beneath your feet.

Your eyes shifted to the ground. Alone. I’d rather be alone. I know what I said before. But I’d rather die alone than to watch others die. I’m only 11. An eleven year old shouldn’t have to watch the life drain out of someone else.

“We already have Eren and Armin, so what’s one more,” Mikasa scoffs. Her tall and slender features were intimidating. She was gorgeous though. A sight for sore eyes, some would say. Her dark eyes could bore into one's soul. They could make you feel naked. It was terrifying. Eren was out cold on the floor. You weren’t give the chance to say goodbye. You thought this would be the last time you saw them, but alas, you would soon come to realize you were wrong.

“I-I should get going,” you stammered, backing your way out of the abandoned building.

Armin frowned and said his farewells. Mikasa, still leaning on the wall, rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“Wait,” Armin yelled, following you outside the building. You paused, salty tears falling from your face. You couldn’t comprehend why you were crying. You wipe your face with your ripped sweater covered in soot. Blinking the remaining tears away, you turn to face Armin. Armin’s eyes sunk in and his clothes were muddled with dirt from sleeping on the bare floor.

Armin was a good friend. He comforted you as best as he could when you would wake up from nightmares by telling you about the world outside. He told you about how the world is a lot bigger and that there’s this large, salty, body of water called the sea. Armin allowed your imagination to run wild. You had wondered if there was a better life waiting for you beyond the walls. But those nights are over now.

Armin and you stood at a stalemate for some time, just staring at each other, both of you too scared to talk to each other or leave. But soon it ended with you running towards Armin to wrap him in a warm embrace. You buried your head in his chest, your tears wetting his shirt, his tears falling onto your head.

“Will we ever see each other again,” Armin asked. You didn’t answer. You just wanted to stay like this but you couldn’t. You had to go, you felt unwelcome here. And you felt like you were intruding on their friendship.

“Armin,”you sigh, gently choking on your tears, “I have to go.” And with that you let go and turned away. Armin’s head dropped low. He turned away and went back into the building.

…

Outside of the walls of the building was what looked like, no was, the aftermath of a war. Hundreds of people stood in line with guards lined up near them. Many of them were covered in smut, their clothes ripped to shreds. Many of them children without parents and wives without husbands. But these guards did not look friendly. They were all dark, and intimidating. Their faces had scowls on them and their bodies tensed up like feral animals.

“Keep it moving,” one growled, hounding a frail, older man.

“I’m sorry. My knees are just bad. Had to-,” before the old man could finish his sentence, the guard pulled out a rifle pointing the barrel at the man’s head. People’s focus shifted to the current predicament in front of you. Help him! Somebody! Somebody needs to stop this! The man knelt on his knees, pleading, begging him to not do it. To not take his life.

“I have a grandson, I can’t...I can’t leave him alone here. It’s not safe for a kid by themselves,” he sobbed.

You stood, paralyzed, as you watched it all happen. And within a blink of an eye it was all over. The guard pulled the trigger. You don’t know if it was the sound of the gunshot, the sound of the man's body dropping, the sight of the blood pouring from the hole in his face, or his sobs…but whatever it was...it caused you to jump, chills running down your spine. How? How are humans so cruel? Why wouldn’t anybody help him? The garrison guards didn’t even flinch. They just continued on like nothing happened, the old man's limp body, covered in blood, still lying there. The sight made your stomach churn.

You ran, as far away as you could.You didn’t think about it, you just did it. Why do I always run? Am I really that much of a coward? I can’t live in a world like this…a world where I have to be scared all the time...for my life...my friends...the people I don’t even know.

…

You eventually settled on a spot in an alleyway. There were boxes and various pieces of trash left on the floor. The walls were covered in dirt and soot and a foul smell lingered in the air. It was cold, and dark. The only thing you could hear was the shuffling of feet and the wind blowing through the empty streets. For weeks you stayed in that alleyway. It became your new home. As food became scarce, you had to ration what you had, which before the fall of Shigansina, would only be enough to last you a day or two.

After weeks of starving and losing your food to thieves and asshole gaurds, you had given up. You didn’t have anything left to live for, not your parents, not any friends...nobody. You were a kid. Kids can’t survive without their parents…they can’t survive without anyone for that matter. You tore off the bottom to your dirty shirt and searched for something that you could jump from but to no avail, you found nothing. You plopped yourself down on the ground and stared up at the sky, it was colorless. The clouds were the color of soot and the sky an ash gray. The air felt cold and a foul odor lingered.

You thought of your parents and how things would be if they were still here. Would things be any different? Would I still starve? You had remembered the time that you had hurt yourself falling off of a stool. You thought of your cry and your parents helping you and taking you to see Dr.Yeager. You remember their kind gentle hands holding your face, wiping your tears.

…

Today was the day. The day you were actually gonna do it. The day where you were gonna take your life. The day where all your pain and suffering would go always the day where you’d be reuniting with your parents. It took you a week to come up with a plan, but you finally settled on jumping off the top of the tallest building in town. Ironically, the building was used for a bakery at one point. You figured, what better way to go down than that?

Your stepped closer to the edge. This is it mom and dad. I’m coming home I’ll be able to see you again.

“Coward,” a voice scoffed, “I mean I’m not gonna stop you or anything, but you’re a coward.”

“I have every right-,” you sighed.

They’re right, I am a coward. I never fight. I’m always taking the easier option. I ran when my dad fought. I left Armin and Eren and Mikasa. And now I’m taking my own life. Tears ran down your face as you stared down, closing your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you said, choking on your sobs.

“Don’t apologize you me,” they said, “Jesus, you look horrible.”

You stayed silent, keeping your head dropped. I’m such a coward.

“Here,” he tore a piece off of his loaf of bread and held his hand out. The owner of the voice stood next to you, looking at you with a scowl on his face. You sniffled as you turned to face him, trying to soak up your sobs and stuffy nose. He had a long face, with light brown hair that brought out the golden flakes in his eyes. He was young, about the same age as you, maybe older. The boy shoved the bread into your hands and stepped down.

Just as you were about to thank him, he dissapeared, leaving no trace of his presence. A silent tear left a trail as it fell off your face. You fell asleep in a corner on the flat, old, rooftop thinking about how you were gonna find him to thank him. Your parents always taught you to thank someone even if you didn’t have to, and that it’s not just about saying it, but proving how grateful you were, wether it was offering them a gift or doing them a favor.

…

When you had woken up, you found a knitted grey blanket covering you. Your head rang and your face was a little read an puffy. You rubbed your eyes and saw someone standing over you, it was hard to tell who it was, you jumped swinging your legs to push you back. When you had fully recovered you had realized it was the boy from the previous day.

”It’s about damn time,”he scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Synopsis: You didn’t realize how in love you were with Jean Kirschtein until he decided to join the Survey Corp.

Taglist: n/a

Chapter 1

Masterlist

Chapter 3

Playlist

#aot x reader #aot spoilers #aot jean #aot angst #aot fanfiction #aot anime #attack on titan #jean x reader #jean kirschtien #jean kirstein #jean kirschstein #jean kirschtein x reader #tdiya

[r00en]

Still Good

I decided to post this here too since I’m brand new to AO3 and writting outside of RP so please forgive my garbage! I just have a lot of feelings for All Might and I’m locked up during this crazy time with nothing else to do so! This is super long I’m so sorry! If you like soft nervous Toshi then you might like this? I HC him as having zero understanding of personal feelings beyond friendship so when his heart goes Doki Doki for a stranger he panics. 

Chapters 1 & 2 

One brief conversation with UA's new assistant Nurse makes Toshinori question the dark path he's set himself on and reminds him that there can be more than one reason to keep going. Even if that reason is just the chance to walk her home.

(No warnings yet....I plan on slow burning this thing a little bit...tiny bit. Maybe chapter 4....if I can make it fit right.)

All Might / Reader (OC) 

It was that twisting pain again that forced Toshi slowly to his feet. That deep itching pain that started where his stomach should have been and spread over his left side like a wave ready to crash. He would normally ignore it for as long as possible. Stall and grip the nearest object with such force he could hear the poor thing giving way under his fingertips. But he was at UA now to gather his hire date paperwork, tour the grounds and have one last conversation with Nezu and the other faculty he would be working closely with before he started his new position. Breaking school property before he even started wasn't an option. Perhaps it was the stress and anxiety of this new start and task he put before himself. No. Explaining his injury, loss of powers and decline was surely causing this bubble of hate to slowly morph into all too real pain that now gripped him like a vice and refused to let go. So he staggered forward trying to recall the directions everyone had repeated time and time again to him today. Directions to the nurses station. Recovery girl was already well aware of his condition and surely had some of his much needed prescriptions or at the very least heavy duty pain meds to get him through the train ride home.

"Sorry for the interruption Recovery Girl..." He muttered, catching a wet cough with his hand and hoping the blood wouldn't spill between his fingers. "I was hoping to put off my visits here until at least my true start date but-" As Toshi opened his's eyes he was stunned to see not the tiny head nurse of UA sitting in her normal chair but a concerned stranger, eyes wide with worry as she took in his hunched and pained posture. "Ah! My apologies!" His hands waved frantically in front of his thin frame trying to wipe that look off her face if possible. Act bouncy, not sick. Happy, excited, normal! "Recovery Girl! I mean I'm looking for- she's an old friend you see and I thought I would say hello before I left is she..." He scanned the clean white office for the tiny support hero. Anything to stop the eye contact with this stranger.

"Ah...Grandmother?" Her voice was so soft, confused and not at all professional.

Toshi winced scratching the back of his neck to busy his hands. "I-I'm not-"

"I see the two of you have already met."

A sharp pain shot through Toshi's ankle and forced him to jump inside the office, just able to catch himself on a near by night stand. His eyes finally found the tiny nurse as she grinned up at him, well aware of his utter embarrassment and confusion as she pulled her cane away from where his skinny leg just was. "My my so jumpy today. Nerves from the new job?" She teased, the click of her cane echoing over the otherwise silent room. Seeing as neither her nor the mystery woman were willing to break that silence she continued. "As I was saying, this is my granddaughter! She will be starting here as my assistant and training to take over my work here as head nurse some day. The two of you will be starting this journey together so it's best you start out on the right foot." her words sounded more like a demand than a suggestion, and it caused Toshi to sand up straighter, wiping the back of his sleeve over his mouth just in case he missed any blood.

Likewise the young woman seemed to jump up from her seat. "O-Oh yes! It's a pleasure to meet you! Grandmother has told me great things!" Her bow was sloppy and awkward, like she was still getting used to the form and function. He watched her hand twitch at her side as if it wanted to reach out first but was quickly corrected. A thought crossed Toshi's mind as he returned the bow. "You're American?" he asked as politely as he could, quirks were so abundant these days it was impossible to tell just by looks anyone's nationally and her accent was harsh if not a bit endearing. It reminded him of his time over seas.

"Yes! The East Coast in fact! I was born and raised there but returned recently to Japan to help Grandmother here. Sorry if my Japanese isn't very good. I was never a hand at learning new languages. Thank goodness mother taught me some as I was growing up or this would be impossible." She flushed slightly and Toshi felt himself follow suit. She was attractive. Small and delicate with wide bright eyes that shone behind almost too big glasses and soft vibrant hair that flowed over her shoulders just barely contained in two thick braids that looked like they were hastily done in a sleepy daze this morning. Her nurses coat was clean and crisp, still wrinkled from it's packaging. Very new indeed. Just like him. As he watched her fingers twirl one of her braids he found himself wondering how soft they were, how tiny they looked compared to his. He tore his eyes away quickly lest he be caught staring like a creepy old man and turned to look at Recovery Girl who was grinning ear to ear and not in her normal bed side manner. He was caught.

Clearing her throat Recovery Girl moved to the desk and hopped herself up on the chair, her granddaughter looking like she desperately wanted to help but shied away at the last second. So she was kind, that warmed his heart somehow. "Now you may not like this Toshinori but it had to be done. My granddaughter here already knows all about your current circumstances, injury and treatment. All current staff who are to work closely with you were made aware as you know and since she will be here working closely with me and on her own Nezu deemed it important she know all the facts." Toshi's whole body went ridged like someone had dumped cold water down his back. The pain he felt earlier now lost to the worry that ate away at his core. Someone else knew. How much? He could only assume as much as the other teachers and though he hated it they had a right to know. And this girl would most likely be working closely with him in emergency cases or like now when the pain bothered him enough to distract from his teaching duties. It was the correct choice but he still didn't have to like it. He glanced back ready to be met with that sad look of pity and shock that all the other teachers leveled at him when they were told. The great and powerful All Might now a thin husk of a man hardly able to stand upright. Pathetic and sad. But she wasn't. She was smiling as if the information was about the weather and not about the nasty scar that covered half his side or he wasn't missing major organs. She looked at him like he was just a normal person and that chill ran down him again. That wasn't a look he was used to.

The sound of a cane snapping against the cold office floor snapped both of them out of their staring, both turning to see the tiny Nurse heading back out the door. "I'm sure you two would love a moment to get acquainted! Don't hold back on my account. I'm sure she will be able to get that pain managed right quick for you All Might so you don't need me poking around anymore!" She said that last line with such finality that Toshi was afraid to argue. It seemed her own granddaughter was too as she sat back down and scratched at her cheek lightly laughing when the door slid shut. "Oh my....I always worry what she's planning in that little head of hers but there is no stopping her once she's set on a mission. Sometimes it's even kinda scary, ya' know?"

Toshi swiveled back, returning this girls nervous smile. "Y-yeah I know what you mean. I can't count the amount of times I've been chewed out by her back in my younger years. Now it's happening all over again I can't say I'm trilled about it." They both chuckled again and tried to look anywhere but at each other. Toshi wanted to kick himself. Why was he acting like a nervous high schooler. The setting maybe? Back in his old stomping grounds. Though he couldn't pretend to have any experience with that sort of situation even when he was a kid. Her voice snapped him back again and had him scrambling. "You're pain....could I help you with it?" She was so soft, how could just a voice put his racing heart at ease yet nearly pound it out of his chest? He hummed, the sound caught in his throat as he moved to take a seat on one of the beds. "I know I'm new at this sort of thing but you'll have to be honest with me if I'm going to help you." There was a spark of her grandmother there and the idea made him smile and relaxed him. She wasn't some newbie kid brought in on nepotism. He would trust her for now. "You'll have to show me for my quirk to work." Wait, she wasn't just going to hand him some pain medication and shoo him out then door? What was her quirk? Show her?!

His ears started to ring, it felt like the whole room grew darker and lighter all at once. Panic flooded his mind and muddled it but his hands were moving on their own to pull his jacket off. She would be disgusted, would she scream and run away? Look at him with that pathetic look she was missing earlier? What would she say? How would he respond? Why the hell was he just letting this happen!? Questions crashed over him like un-buffered waves until he could feel her fingers helping unbutton his dress shirt, his oversized suit jacket already carefully laid over the back of a near by chair. Her fingers found the twisted scar tissue before her eyes did and he braced himself for the embarrassment to hit him like a brick but it never came. Just a warm tingle that blanketed the old twitching pain that had been blooming in his side for over an hour. Fuzzy at first like the muscles had fallen asleep but as it subsided it was like a warm compress and for the first time in how many years Toshi felt like he could breath again. With two lungs this time. His eyes snapped down to see her tiny hands softly pressed against that horrible scar. They were glowing a faint green that seemed to work it's way through the dips and curves of the wound and melt into his untouched flesh. He didn't know what to do with his hands so he gripped the sheets and hoped she wouldn't notice his trembling.

"The pain seems to come from prolonged periods of stress on the un-scared tissue pulling against the scar tissue and muscles. If you stay in one position too long they start to strain which sets off a chain reaction of pain through the rest of the wound. It's almost as if your body reacts defensibly to minor muscle cramps...." She was more talking to herself it seemed as she let her fingers press a bit higher up his chest. "Y-yeah?" was all he could mutter in response. Oh that was stupid Toshi! Say something smart, pretend you know about your own damn body! "If I help the muscles relax they won't heal...but they will lose some of that tension which should help your body's pain response. Like an off switch. Letting it know everything is okay and it can rest." Her eyes moved from his side to his face. Her smile so calm it had him melting in place. "That should do it for now. You might feel a little limp as I told your body to relax for now and it can sometimes effect your limbs and muscles in other areas too. But that should pass quickly enough. Sorry I can't wear gloves like Grandmother, get's in the way of my quirk." She wiggled her glowing fingers before turning around to wash her hands in the small sink behind her.

Toshi took the time to redress and think. She wasn't disgusted, she didn't turn away or mutter and apology. She touched him without so much as a flinch. Even Recovery Girl often frowned and softened when she treated him or spoke of his injury. "Your quirk...can I ask what it is?" He muttered, his voice deep and rumbling as if he was afraid to speak. "You said you were Shuzenji's granddaughter so I can only assume it's some kind of healing?" Small talk would ease the tension right?

"Mhm!" She gave a heavy nod and moved to the small cabinet that seemed to house medications and supplies. "Like her I am able to heal myself and others with a touch. Lucky for me I don't need to go around kissing anyone for it to work." She chuckled and so did Toshi though his mind flashed images of her sweet face pressed close to his chest, her lips ghosting across the skin there and maybe- No. Unacceptable. He would not stoop to that level of indecency. He just met this poor girl and already he was acting like a perverted old man. Where did this come from?

"It works the same way her's does though I'm able to do more than just heal wounds. It's hard to explain but I redirected the bodies responses to things like pain and discomfort and more or less turn them off or force the body to respond positively and numb the area. I can heal the same as her too though it takes a bit more out of me. Plus I was never so good at the true medical side of things so I kinda had to cheat a little to get here...." She knocked herself slightly on the side of the head as she turned back to face him. "I failed out of medical school since I'm not very smart so I applied to be a hero in the states program and go in as a support front line hero which opened me up to getting a license to use my medical type quirk in open situations rather than going the long way through school like grandma." That made sense to him. No one was able to use their quirk freely and even less so in any sort of professional manner without the proper license. Most support and healing quirk users simply went to medical school to be allowed to use theirs on the job, others became support class hero's which didn't always get them a job in the medical field but did often open them up to work in agencies as recovery hero's. It was a common practice. "Mm. It's done often enough but front line? Does that mean you fought villains?" He was finished buttoning his dress shirt but left his jacket off for now.

The question seemed to catch her off guard and she thought about her answer for a moment. Toshi wondered how such a small and soft woman with a quirk like her's could possibly fight anyone at all. "Well when you say fight..." she sighed waving a hand at him "...that's not really correct. I distracted the villain's to allow the real hero's an opening or time to determine their quirk and form a counter strategy. It saved hero's the need to throw themselves at the villain and needlessly get hurt to figure out a plan. It made more sense for me to do it." The look of confusion on Toshi's gaunt face must have given him away so she continued. "I was kinda like the tank, or a punching bag might be a better example! My body can recover so quickly that any injury I sustained from a fight would be quickly corrected! He could wail on me all day long without doing any permanent damage and that would distract them long enough for the hero's to do what they do best!" She explain it with such ease that it made Toshi feel sick to his nonexistent stomach. People used this sweet girl as an literal punching back. Hero's let that sort of thing happen! It made his blood boil, knuckles gripping his pant legs so tight he could hear the fabric strain with the tension. "It wasn't a foolproof plan however, if I'm distracted or scared and I can't focus on my quirk it's slower to act and I can end up with some injury. But that hasn't happened in a long time!" She must have seen the look on his face and was trying to put him at easy. "Mostly fit as a fiddle!" She posed a bit, looking a bit goofy but the action let Toshi's shoulders slump and relax. The thought still clawed at the back of his mind and that feeling of wanting to protect someone from danger was ever present. A pill bottle was suddenly thrust close to his face and snapped him once again from his racing mind. "Here you go! This is right yeah?" That jumbled Japanese was so cute Toshi felt heat rise to his cheeks. The bottle did indeed read his name.

"Heh, yeah. Yeah you got it." He took the bottle carefully from her fingers purposely brushing his against them. Soft. The both stared at each other for a moment, unsure of what to say or do. All Toshi knew was he didn't want to leave, he didn't want to walk back outside this office into a world that looked at him with pity or disgust. He wanted to stay here with this kind stranger who spoke so softly and sweetly to him. Who smiled and treated him like a person. Not like The Symbol of Peace, not like the broken dying hero he really was. Just a person. "W-would you like..." His adams apple bobbed and he swallowed thickly. That little tilt of her head she gave in question was just so damn cute his mouth ran dry. "You're new to Japan you said?" "Mhm! Not my first time here as I've been to visit a few times but you know the normal tourist things. If I'm honest I struggle to find the right train every day heading home! Mr. Principal has been very kind and took me home a few times before but-" She looked away almost too afraid to finish "I'f I'm honest he's kinda scary sometimes..." As if she caught her mistake she quickly backed up and the loss of closeness saddened Toshi somehow but her cute little stumble made up for that. "I-I-I'm so sorry that was so rude! It's not that he's mean at all! But you get this feeling that he's so much more powerful than he lets on...." Toshi chuckled and stood up, when they were both standing he noticed just how short she really was. He watched as she turned around and handed him back his folded jacket carefully. "Don't worry, I understand that feeling no need to apologize." He sighed watching as the worry drained from her face. "But what I was saying before....you're new to the area. Would you like help walking home?"

He wasn't expecting the sudden rush of emotion that seemed to bloom across her whole body. Eyes blurred with what looked like tears as she took a hold of both his hands in her much smaller ones. "Oh! I would love that thank you so much! It won't be so hard with you there I'm sure!" That feeling of being needed, of helping even if in this small way swelled him with pride. "You really are my number one hero!" Oh that helped and Toshi was grinning like an idiot. "I-I have some errands to run around town but I'll come back and pick you up at the front gate? What time do you get off?"

She let go, and Toshi had to hold himself back from snatching her hands back in his. "Since I'm just helping Grandmother get set up for the new school year it's not normal hours for us just yet. Around three I would think. Would you like my number just in case?" He would love her number. "Y-yeah." He nodded pulling out his comically small phone. It stunned him when she pulled it from his fingers and started typing away on her own. He had to remind himself that she was American and such forward actions were normal for her. "There we are! Feel free to text me any time alright! I'm sure you know all about this area and any information you could give me would be so helpful." Toshi glanced down at his phone and noticed the small star and emoji she put next to her name. Cute. Everything about her was so cute. He quickly moved her name to his favorites, he would apologize to Kayama later for knocking her out of that number five spot on his phone, and shoved it into his back pocket. "Sure, yeah...." He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck again as they both stood in silence together. "R-right...you're medication. Make sure you take one in about an hour if you feel my quirks effects start to wear off. Sometimes trauma areas kick back into panic mode too soon so if you feel any pain don't be afraid to take it. Other than that take you're normal medications on time as directed. They shouldn't effect each other. Any other odd feelings of pain in other areas come back okay? Right away! It's best to nib it in the bud quickly less you distress your body too much." As if Toshi needed any kind of excuse to come running back to this office. He was already thinking of some little white lies to do so. "Of course, thank you." He rumbled her name out and she flushed a bright pink. Was this really happening? Was he really flirting with this stranger he met no more than twenty minutes ago? He opened his mouth to say something else but the sound of the office door slamming open caused them both to jump out of their skins.

"You've hogged my dear sweet Granddaughter long enough All Might! She's a fast worker I know you two have been done by now!" Recovery Girl shuffled her way back in trying her best to look as annoyed as her little face would allow but she couldn't hide that twitch of a grin trying to spread. "Go on now! I have to go over a few more things with her before she's done for the day and she'll get nothing done if she's just staring at you! Shoo shoo!" The poor girl looked modified but maybe not for the reason Toshi feared. She was smiling as she tried to hush her little grandmother who was wacking Toshi's legs with her cane as he stumbled to the door.

Lucky she was able to push past the grumpy faking nurse to close the door behind him, only pausing long enough to peak her head out. "Three o'clock still okay?" She whispered, low enough that he had to bow his head to catch her words. "Yes....I'll be at the gate then but just in case I'll send you a message when I'm on my way." "Good! Good! I'll see you then." She parted him with one more shining smile which he tried his best to return before the door slammed shut almost catching her nose in the process. Toshi could hear Recovery Girl's fake attempt at scolding as he stood dumbfounded by the door.

Had that really just happened? In just a short amount of time Toshi felt his whole life flipped upside down so suddenly. He was really going to walk her home, that's what employees did all the time for each other right? Normal work place behavior, helping the new girl out was common. This wasn't weird at all. No it was. It was very weird for Toshinori Yagi to interact so closely with anyone. But All Might was leap at the minor chance to help someone in need and he was still All Might after all. His hand moved to his side that was still numb and free of pain for now. Maybe it was just the idea of feeling so good that wrapped up his emotions. That warm fuzzy feeling in what was left of his gut was just her quirk doing it's not. But images of her face and that damned smile flashed through his mind and he knew that was a lie. He felt that way when she first spun around to look at him confused and startled by his sudden appearance. When she started at him while Recovery Girl spoke before she had a chance to use her quirk. His heart was already pounding in his chest from the moment their eyes locked and she spoke. Is this how normal people felt?

He feet started to drag him away from the door. Reminding himself he needed to change into casual close before he left school grounds he pulled his phone from his back pocket and opened his contacts. That little star next to her name made him smile and he held himself back from texting her right then and there. He had a lot of feelings to work out but for now he just wanted a sweet bun.

Chapter 2 

Toshi wasn't sure he had ever texted more furiously in his life, he had forgotten all about that young nurse and his offer and to top it off he even forgot to text her about this massive delay! His large thumbs constantly mistyping and back tracking his words as he ran as fast as his thin legs would take him. In the back of his mind he tried to remember his younger years being quirkless but at least back then he was young and in shape. Plus he had both his lungs. Though that girls quirk treatment was paying off. It gave him those few extra moments in his hero form to beat that slim villain and save the day though now his side was burning like it was on fire and he could only gulp in air in a desperate attempt to catch his breath. His run in with that kid weighed on him and if he were being honest the only thing he wanted to do was rush home and take a much needed nap. Scratch that, coma. He wanted to sleep for days. Over using his hero form always wiped him out and this was the Plus Ultra of over doing it! But he couldn't think about that now, not the kid, not the burning pain shooting down his side and numbing his legs. Someone was counting on him and if this was the last heroic thing he would do today god damn it it would get done! With the school gates in sight he pushed his legs to run faster no matter how much they protested. Until he was skidding to a stop so hard he thought smoke would start rising from his heels.

His head swiveled around the main gate which swished open as he approached, the court yard seemed empty save for a few birds who skipped around picking at the cracks in the concrete. The plastic bag he was holding slipped from his fingers and landed with a dull thud at his side, his wheezing so loud it scared those poor birds away as he held his head back and tried to brush the sweat from his eyes. He didn't make it. His heart sank with the though of that poor girl waiting around for hours for him. What if she got lost, took the wrong train and was headed to a horrible part of town? He would hold himself souly responsible for any ill begotten fate that befell such a kind young woman. Stupid! He was so stupid! How would he be able to face her or god forbid her grandmother after this!?

Just as Toshi was kicking himself mentally for the hundredth time his phone buzzed in his pocket and he made a mad scramble to see who it was. That little start popped up on the ID and his heart leapt and sank at the same time. Fingers shaking he wondered if he should even open it. Maybe he could pretend he lost his phone and bring her a gift the next time he saw her to make up for his horrible mistake. Did she like chocolate? Was that too romantic for a 'forgive me' gift? Was he trying to be romantic? Was that kid's muttering tendency rubbing off on him already. Swallowing his fear as best he could he flipped his phone open all the way.

"Turn around dork ~<3"

Was that an American phrase for something? Dork was a playful teasing name he remembered that much but what did turn around mean? He stood there a moment trying to piece together what he believed was the worlds most cryptic text when a flash of colored hair brushed past his vision. Toshi nearly jumped out of his skin scrambling to catch the phone he sent flying into the air and keep his feet firmly on the ground as she stumbled to the side and out of what his body has suddenly decided was danger. The only thing to stop his heart from exploding was the sudden sound of her laugh. It was loud, but so warm and happy and much like her quirk quickly put his body at ease. She was still here, still waiting for him. The guilt of that was almost as bad as his panic moments again and it seemed to flash across his face as her laughter died away and was replaced with a moment of still silence. "I-I'm sor-" her phone cut his apology short. A large touch screen shoved in his face with a news app open to show a video of him only an hour before elbow deep in that slime villain. "Geez you really think I'm gonna let you say sorry for saving the day?!" She grinned behind her phone, pulling it away to flip through a few more pictures. "It's a good thing you were there went you were, those poor kids I can't image how scary that must have been for them. I think this photographer really liked the chest shots....you can't even see you're face in some of them."

Toshi was staring, jaw slack as she kept swiping through pictures. She didn't look mad, she looked happy. Content maybe, but all Toshi could do was stare and try and ignore the low ring that seemed to be filling his ears. "Y-you're not...mad?" he muttered, so softly that it took her a second to really hear what he said. He whispered her name to grab her attention and she glanced up at last flashing him that beautiful, kind smile.

"Mad?! Why would I be mad you were amazing! Someone live streamed the whole thing! Of course you were going to be late after something like that!" She dropped her phone into her bag shifting it slightly to get a better grip before turning back to him. "You ready to go? I'm starving." In that moment Toshi was sure he looked like a fish out of water, sweating down to his bones and still out of breath he gripped his side as another flash of pain shot from his scar to the tips of his toes. As if on que she was at his side fussing over him. "You over did it didn't you! It's to be expected after a fight like that....you didn't run all the way here did you? Of course you did look at you you're dripping with sweat. Here come sit down." Regardless of his protests he was shooed over to one of the school benches and flopped down with about as much grace as his lankly limbs would allow and she plopped right down next to him. "Here....you mind if I use my quirk out in public.?"

Swallowing hard again Toshi took a second to look around. No one was around, the school was closed and most likely void of the rest of the staff. It was well past six, he kept her waiting an extra three hours. The though made him cover his gaunt face with his hand and sigh. "Should be alright. T-thank you..." He helped by lifting his comically sized white shirt up enough for her to slip her fingers under and the second those soft hands pressed against his burning flesh he felt that cool numbness overtake him. It was almost a fight to keep his eyes open and a soft moan of relief from slipping past his lips. The hand he used to smooth down his face kept rested over his mouth just in case. "S'fine...really." She smiled up at him though she was clearly focused on her task. It took a bit longer this time. Her worry was how his muscles were twitching and twisting so rapidly that she could feel them even after she pumped a good amount of healing into him. "Still...I don't want to over do it, how does that feel?" She asked after a good five minuets of contact. A good solid five minuets that Toshi wished lasted longer.

"Better. Much better. Thank you. It feels like I can breath again." He returned her smile, no longer pained and forced but a real one this time. They sat like that for a while, just watching each other. It should have been awkward and he was sure it looked strange to anyone passing by. To people just staring at each other smiling on a school bench and dusk. Saying nothing. Not moving. It wasn't under he could hear the soft rumble of her stomach that they both snapped out of it and quickly moved apart as if an electric shock has past between them. "S-sorry! I havn't eaten since lunch...how embarrassing..." She rubbed the back of her head and tried to shield her stomach with her free hand hoping the sound wouldn't happen again. Her cheeks were flushed that lovely pink and she avoided all eye contact with him. "No it's my fault. I held you up so long I'm sure you're hungry. Here." He pulled up the plastic bag he forgot he grabbed. It still had the convenient story sandwiches he meant to have for lunch before the attack. He never had a chance to eat and in the back of his mind he thanked what ever god was gifting him at least a bit of luck today. He could be a hero and fight the villain that was her hunger. "It's a bit plain, I can't eat much now given my injury but it should still be good." The way her eyes lit up made his heart melt.

"You're sure? Don't you need to eat something?" She asked as she took the bag from him and pulled out the carefully wrapped sandwich.

"No. I'll be fine. I have some soups at home to eat. Far better for me anyway." The sound of contentment she made as she took her first bite made him smile and relax. This was nice. Sitting watching the sky turn to night slowly wasn't something he ever bothered doing before. And never with someone else. Toshi noticed that he legs were almost swinging hardly able to touch the ground as she happily munched away. She was so small, so delicate. Even in his weak state he worried he could break her in half if pressed. How on earth did this tiny thing manage to be a professional punching back for top criminals? "Could I ask you something?" Toshi turned his head slightly, catching her large eyes starting up at him behind those glasses. Giving a slight nod her tone worried him. "Are you...alright?"

That caught him off guard. So much so he wasn't really sure how to respond. He felt wonderful now thanks to her. As good as he could feel given his condition. Did he still look like he was in pain? He knew his stomach couldn't physically rumble so it couldn't be that. "What do you mean?" Toshi wasn't sure he wanted the answer to that but the way she looked at him, not with pity, but worry. Worry about him here and now.

"When we first met back in the office you were coming to see Grandma about your pain...and even though I was in uniform you didn't want to bother me with it and even tried to pretend you were just stopping by to say hello. And when she left and I tried to use my quirk...you looked so scared. I knew it couldn't be because you were afraid it would hurt. You were afraid of what I would think right?" Toshi stayed silent keeping his eyes on her though she had moved to look at the food in her hands. "You're worried about what people think of you now...I know we just met but please don't look at me like that again okay?" There was a small twang of pain in her voice that he hated hearing. This girl, she was so new to everything around her. A new job, new country, new life and here she was worried about what he felt. She picked up on his insecurity so fast it was almost scary. He felt his jaw clench tight. Why did he want to wrap his arms around her and protect her from that sad look on her own face. She shouldn't be worried about him that wasn't her roll here. That was always his job to worry about others.

His hand moved before he hand a chance to stop it and he found himself resting it on her lower arm. "I know better now." He muttered quietly, catching her eyes as she looked up from his touch. "You're not the type of person I need to worry about that with. I know that now." As if he suddenly realized he was touching her his hand snapped back and a blush bloomed across his face. "Even now after only a few hours you're so worried about me you can't finish eating. I thought I was doing a good job of hiding it, no one else noticed but you. That's the mark of a great hero kid, someone who see's the fear in others and tries to set it right." There was that long pause again between them. Neither needing to speak just soaking into already said words and emotions. Suddenly her cheeks puffed as she tried desperately to hold in a laugh.

"K-kid...." She squeaked before barking out and nearly doubling over. "I can't believe you called me kid! Oh man grandma is gonna get a kick out of that! I know I look young but geez I never thought someone would call me that again, I don't know if I should laugh or cry!" As happy as he was to see her smiling again he was beyond confused.

"Wait, so how old are you anyway?" What a rude question Toshi! Another thing to add to his 'kick yourself' tonight list but for now he was far too confused to worry about that now.

"I'm thirty two!"

"You're joking....you don't look a day older than twenty...that can't be right." He tried to do the math in his head though he had to admit he had no idea how old Recovery Girl was. Hell he didn't even know she had a child to begin with. "You're serious?"

It was her turn to start patting his arm, a dazed look crossing her face as she grinned up at him. "I'm so old now it's nice to hear someone say such nice things to me. First you treat me to dinner and now this, you really are the best kind of hero out there aren't you? Won't you tell me I look young more often? That's just the kinda ego boost I need to get through my days it's so nice!" Toshi chuckled into his hand and watched her bask in the glow of his accidental compliment. If it was this easy to make her so happy he would take her up on that and call her young and beautiful every day. Not that it was a stretch or a lie to do so. The more he looked at her, really looked at her the more beautiful she looked to him. Was this really how normal every day citizens felt about each other day to day? He was so unused to every day life he couldn't be sure of his own feelings interacting even with old friends. Always second guessing their feelings about what he was now, who he was going forward. Aizawa questioned his ability to teach, not that he blamed him Toshi had no experience with kids let alone shaping the young minds of the next great heros. Hizahi and Thirteen worried about his physical ability and how well he could handle being in public and at work in his hero form for so long. All good worries, all valid and all made him feel worse. But here she was just fresh into meeting him and the only thing she worried about were those feelings he had. She didn't want him to be afraid around her above all else. He decided then and there that he wouldn't be. What ever was happening here, what ever was between them now fear wouldn't be lingering in the background.

"Thirty two..." Toshi muttered looked back to the darkening sky. The street lamps had turned on by that point and the cold night air was starting to blow in. She wasn't as young as he thought she was and those creepy feelings he felt when she touched his chest or brushed her hands against his they felt less....creepy now. No. This was creepy, thinking about it like this was creepy. The way his leg bounced like an excited wag at the thought of 'this could work' was creepy! She was a kind nurse who wanted to take care of him and be his friend. "Leave it at that All Might..." he muttered though clenched teeth.

"Hm?" Crap, she heard him. "You say something?"

"Oh! No no it's getting late! That's all. We should get going if we want to catch the next train." "Tatooin Station right?" She stood, brushing some crumbs off her work skirt and shoving the trash from the sandwich into the plastic bag he brought. Toshi nodded and stood himself, almost shocked that his side wasn't burning from the sudden movement like it normally did. "We don't have to rush, they run the trains until about twelve tonight so no hurry. Did you have enough to eat? We can always stop on the way-" She hold up a hand, almost needed to stand on her toes to reach his face. "I'm fine, really. That was more than enough. We should get you home so you can eat...." She gave him that look again, that worried look that wasn't pity and a small part of him found he kind of liked being looked at like that. Someone to fuss over his every day needs was an odd change of pace. It felt like home.

The train ride home was as uneventful as possible and Toshi thanked his stars he couldn't catch wind of any emergency or villains near by. Her apartment was apparently in a different distract and it took nearly forty minuets to get there by train, not to mention a short walk but they passed the time by chatting away in an empty train car as to not disturb other passengers. She fussed over him when ever he coughed into his hand and insisted on wiping his mouth for him to make sure he caught all the flakes of red blood staining the corners of his mouth and he would smile and give into her demands no matter how cute her tough stern voice was. She showed him a few american apps on her phone that had his eyes light up with a pang of nostalgia which turned into long winded stories about his time in the states with Dave. Everything flowed so naturally and he adored watching her move across the train car as they passed Tokyo Disney, that cheery melody playing over the stations sound system when the doors opened. Seeing her enjoy the small wonders of the country was going to be something he greatly looked forward to, and he even promised to take her to places no tourist would never know about.

Their walk was much the same, talking in hushed tones and passing under street lights that were far brighter now that a full night had settled over the city. The more residential area she lived in was far quieter and thankfully safer than the main city streets. He helped her try and read the names on some of the buildings though her understanding of written Japanese was spotty still she seemed so excited to learn he couldn't help but indulge her. "Will you be at the school tomorrow?" She asked finally as they stopped at her building. Toshi shook his head, rubbing his neck as he suddenly was want to do in front of her. "Unfortunately no I'll be out of town for a while finishing up some things at the agency. With me going into a some what retirement there's still so much to do and a limited amount of time for me to do it in my powered form, not sure how many days of it I have left really." He looked for the sign of sadness in that but found none. It was like he was saying his car was on it's last legs; a bummer but not the end of the world even if it seemed to be the end of his. But she did look sad, as if she was looking forward to seeing him at work already.

"H-hey hey I'll text you like I promised alright. No need to look so down about it." Truth be told he was a bit down about it himself. "And if you want when I get back I'll take you to a coffee shop close to the school. You said you liked coffee right?"

The smile she gave melted his heart in a second, if he didn't know any better he would have assumed her quirk was that damn smile. "Right! I'll let you know how things are going with Grandma and the school too! And now you know were I live so if you need a little pain relief don't be shy about coming by alright! I'll try and stock up on those soups you can have just in case you stay for dinner." God that sounded nice. Would it be weird to ask if he could do that right now? Spend a night with her magic fingers against his chest eating dinner and watching a movie. Shaking the thought from his mind he gave her a thumbs up. "Course kiddo-I-I mean...ah..." "N-no way! Call me kiddo! That's great! I can go to bed happy and young tonight!" She was laughing again, all red cheeked and teeth as she turned to enter the building. "Goodnight Toshinori..."

"Night Kid."

#all might #All Might/Reader #MHA #Toshinori x reader #Toshinori Yagi #OC #all might x reader

[galaxygalthemess]

ok but sam and the wolfpack would be waaaay better if one thing happened: sam went to therapy after 'the incident.'

Like not great but a lot of problems would be easier to fix

fuck what smeyer says, I think sam had anger issues

just him though

plus he was a teenager when he shifted, and I don't doubt those hormones added to it

I think that might have affected his relationship with leah too. I think that, while not physical or abusive, Leah just let his behavior slide. And I feel he did similar things to her and any destructive habits she had. (not a lot on pre pack leah, so maybe both angry? maybe some type of addiction of alcohol, caffeine, work, ect? or just putting up walls)

leah and sam had a don't try to fix eachother thing, both wanting it to work and not drive the other away. remember how young they are when they are engaged

after he turns and breaks it off, even that little bit of accountability is gone. he is alone to his anger, and he thinks its just a part of him that will be there forever.

because it grows more after he shifts, I bet he blamed it on being a wolf for a while, ignoring it

so he shifts and hurts emily, but Emily DOES NOT FORGIVE HIM IMMEDIATELY

(i could be wrong here and it mightve been a while to forgive i just am lazy to look it up rn in the official guide)

Emily can see that, yes, he wasn't thinking and lashed out, but its still wrong

She calls him out that its not ok, and sam isn't used to that. most people either let him do what he wants or lash out in anger at him

Emily is genuinely concerned, and he needs help

so he gets a therapist, and works through his issues

during this time, he and emily rarely see eachother so she can have some space. He knows she is still scared, and the last thing he tells her before giving her space is "call me if you ever want me around," or something like that. essential hey ik i fucked up, and i wont pressure u to forgive and trust me if u choose too.

also fuck imprinting rules, it doesnt hurt him to be away. in fact, fuck imprinting. I see it more as a way to spot an important person in your life. one can have multiple imprints for 500 reasons (like in this scenario, if jake did imprint, IT AINT TRUE LOVE SMEYER IT FUN UNCLE INSTINCT KICKING IN HE KNOWS THIS KID WILL BE IMPORTANT IN HIS LIFE..... this is a rant for another day)

so Emily: she will forgive him. why? well one, I am using what I feel here. I would forgive, but not forget that they are capable. And I know many people have issues, but I am willing to forgive more if you work on them.

two, emily sees one of the main reasons for this buildup in him is no support. of course you should take care of yourself mentally, not rely on others to get you the help, but look at our education. I didn't know how to properly put a tampon in until I was 18, do you think early 2000's schooling taught a lot about mental health. and once again, he is trying to get better. So at some point she would forgive and start trusting again, but not for a few months at least

sam starts going because emily told him too. Then he goes because he has no one to complain about wolf probs too (oh ya therapist knows). then he finally starts going for himself.

it was 1-2 times a week, then every other week, then once or twice a month when he starts regulating better.

as he gets better, he starts talking to emily again

as for the other boys? they are fucking teenagers with super powers

they aren't more angry than others, they just have a lot of fuckin hormones

Sam does urge them to go to therapy, but unless they have royally screwed up, he wont try to force them. if he forces then, it wont work as well.

luckily, none of the boys have that anger issue sam had, and he is so happy that none of them have to deal with it.

he uses techniques from his sessions to calm the others, and even learns about how to deal with anxiety attacks and depressive episodes to help his boys (he thinks of them like little brothers/his kids hush)

this does leave the question: does something trigger their transformations?

I say yes: love and a desire to protect

mose of the scenes of them shifted are for patrol or battle, to protect your loved ones. they are usually "more likely to shift" if someone close to them is threatened

of course its not like in smeyers version where they cant control it at all, its just like holding back an argument or a fistfight in the realworld. you can do it but sometimes your buttons are really pushed so you wanna do it so bad

anger can get muddled in the brain, and since its more of a mental thing, the desire to protect the tribe can get intertwined with a sixteen year olds desire to mess up someone who was pushing them around.

because teenagers are dumb. i know I was one. and with superpowers, even dumber, just watch x men evolution.

So thats my take on it. thoughts or questions are appreciated!💖💛💙

#twilight saga #twilight #twilight renaissance #twilight revival #twilight wolf pack #wolf pack #sam uley #emily young #leah clearwater #jacob black #renesmee and jacob #defending jacob #imprinting #twilight shitpost #tw: violence #tw: anger issues #tw: domestic violence #none graphic but talked about so #quileute tribes #quileute #quil ateara #embry call #paul lahote #seth clearwater #twilight new moon #twilight eclipse #new moon #eclipse

[silence-burns]

The Long Road //part 4

Fandom: Bright (Netflix) 

Summary: Based on “Imagine Kandomere interrogating you.” by @thefandomimagine​

"Nice car," you said, louder than was necessary, from the backseat of a very new, and very elven car. 

There were few people that would enjoy being forced into what, you supposed, was a secret MTF operation, and you were not one of them. Which was a shame. You'd gladly give it up to someone more thrilled to risk their life and reputation.

You tried very hard not to dwell on the consequences of someone noticing you anywhere close to the cops. Worse, actually - magical cops. 

You schooled your features into a mask of boredom. Attracting the agents’ attention again was the last thing you needed - you had already been showered in plenty enough of it. 

Having the whole backseat to yourself, you turned a little and straightened your legs in the space you had. It hid your face from nosy passersby through the window. Having nothing better to do, you were left alone with your thoughts. The agents were busy talking to each other and to their phones. The MTF jargon was not something you were used to, but from what you were able to piece together, orders of mobilization were given left and right. Poor Sam was going to be hunted in the whole district. 

Good. You never liked the bastard anyway. Even his money stank of blood. 

You may have skipped some of the education, especially compared to the agents sitting on the front seats, but once upon a time, life taught you a valuable lesson - money was money. Whether you liked the methods it came to you, there were times when money was the only key that opened some locks. 

Like right now. 

A sigh escaped you, unnoticed by the agents. The streets flashed with colorful lights brightening the night as they passed by the car. An elven car in a non-elven part of the city had a guaranteed pass wherever it headed. Even a car had it better than you. 

During the time you spent in the interrogation room, you’d hoped you would come to terms with how ironic your situation was, but the longer the ride was, the more it dawned on you. 

It was supposed to be one of your last gigs. Sam's money was dirty, but it would get you out of town and wipe any traces of your disappearance. Throughout the years you'd spent selling information on the streets, you managed to save enough money to start a life somewhere else. You already had an eye on a place in a remote enough location not to be bothered by any prying eyes. 

Two more jobs, and you'd be free. Dead to the world, but free at long last. 

And yet, here you were, stuck with people that would have something against their best information broker vanishing. If they caught a wind of your plans… 

Kandomere's eyes were fixed on you when you glanced at the rearview mirror. You forced the tension and stress off your shoulders and put on your innocent face. "What? It really is a nice car, agent. I'm starting to think of getting one myself." 

"That confession guarantees that if anything happens to my car, you'll be the first person I'll look for." 

"Ask me to dinner and I'll come myself," you purred. 

Montehugh barked a laugh. "A stray like you would be lucky to—" 

"Focus on the road, we're getting closer," Kandomere cut him off, no change in his tone. "Aren't we?" 

He didn't turn his head, but you knew the last part was directed to you. You dared a look through the window. The familiar flats painted in colors muddled by years of neglect welcomed you coldly, as did the roads filled with potholes to the point of making it difficult to use a car. 

"Take a right turn there," you leaned closer to the agents, hiding your head in your arms. The windows were dark, but places like this always had eyes watching. 

Montehugh frowned with a grimace wrinkling his face. "Why the f—" 

"You're about to cross the border of his territory. He'll be informed if his men see you." 

He scoffed, but slowed down, as if unsure if he should take the turn. Kandomere's expression cleared his confusion out. 

"Right, 'cause it totally doesn't look like we're packing our asses into a trap," he muttered, entering a parking lot under what used to be a business center. 

It was dark, because any lamps that might have been installed there once upon a time, had already been either stolen or destroyed by kids wandering through the area. It was the perfect place for wreaking some destruction far from unwanted eyes and ears. You used to come here too, because the rust-eaten cars left there years ago sometimes had good parts still working, just waiting for someone to make better use of them. Coin was coin. 

"You better regroup your boys somewhere before you strike. If you don't catch Sam on the first try, he won't contact me again," you said, leaning your head on the window. 

All the fierceness you felt back in the interrogation room was seeping through your pores, leaving you an empty, tired shell. You got what you needed. It cost you, but you made it. 

The agents exchanged words and Montehugh left the car. His voice was muffled by the thick glass, but you figured he was talking on the phone again. Apparently, some calls were too important to be heard by someone as treacherous as you. 

"Thank you." 

You startled, not expecting Kandomere's voice. Somehow, you were sure he got out of the car too. 

You caught his gaze in the wing mirror, his features illuminated only by the car's lights. 

You winked. 

"For old time's sake." 

#The Long Road #kandomere x reader #kandomere x you #kandomere/reader #kandomere/you #kandomere #kandomere imagine #kandomere bright #elf x reader #bright netflix

[blissfulalchemist]

4 and 24 for the angst prompts for anyone of your choice? 😘😘😘 BREAK MY HEART LICI!!!

Okay I don’t know how heartbreaking this is but I have done a little Lizette and John that’s canon. So please enjoy.

4. “Do you know what it’s like?” 24. “How much does it hurt knowing you lost me?”

I’m not sure why I ordered soup from this place, they didn’t even have my favorite one today. The spinning of the rice in the vortex from my spoon has my mind occupied as John sits across from me. He’s been picking me up from school more and more lately, ever since mom said he could see me whenever he wanted. It’s mixed feelings in my heart as I spend more time with him. We’re starting to run out of the basics to talk about, and I never thought I would feel this much anger towards him again. I thought knowing John actually loves my mom would help but it hasn’t...and that scares me a bit. I don’t want to end up like him. I’m not him. 

“How are the early applications going? Do you need any help with them?” John hasn’t touched much of his food either, he knows the inevitable is coming. 

“No I got them covered,” I’ve had them done for a month now. Just before he started coming by more often. 

“Liz,” he starts softly, like I’m a child. His child, “what’s wrong?”

I snort, “Nothing. Everything is fine. You just have to remember that I took care of everything on my own.”

He sighs leaning his arms on the table, “I know and I’m sorry,” he’s reaching for my hand before I snatch it away. His blue eyes look hurt, “You shouldn’t have had to do it on your own.”

“I have mom,” she’s all I’ve ever had but that’s starting to change too, “it wasn’t always perfect but she was there for me.”

“I wanted to be, Liz,” I watch as he restrains himself from crossing his arms, “I would have always been there for you had-.”

“Had you not been the leader of a deadly cult,” I cut him off shaking my head, “Yeah I know John.” My words come out shorter than I originally intended, but fuck him! Why did I ever want to get to know him? “I know how shit went down, it was covered in depth, the news outlets did a fine job of that,” drunk me was smarter, trying to protect me like mom did. I should have listened to Val that night, she warned me what would happen. The bowl is pushed from me a few inches, “I’m pretty sure it’s going to be taught in schools at some point.” It’s a straight lie, never could bring myself to admit that it already was. I never told mom how it was covered briefly, a footnote, an example that cults were still around in the twenty first century. Their only other mention was some of the students that chose them, Eden’s Gate, as a subject for their paper, college sociology sucked. Back then it was something that happened so long ago, felt like talking about the Mansons, and I did my paper on some other subject that seemed meaningless now. 

Looking back on that class now, the looks given to me during the presentations of said paper made more sense. They figured out who I was before I ever knew anything about my connection to them. Mom did a good job hiding it all and my brain did a hell of a job tuning out everyone around me. I’m sure the one therapist I had as a child would say it was a learned coping skill.

His jaw clenches and moves slightly to the left, “Well guess it’s good that you’re graduating early.”

“You really think that will stop the stares? The whispers?” I wonder if he’s noticed the looks from some of the older people here that would recognize his face. Or maybe it's from the scene I’ve started to make.

“Look, Liz, I understand that this whole situ-.”

My nails scrape against the plastic table, the small sound hurting my ears, “You understand,” my voice is low as I’m glaring at the table, “Really? That’s what you’re starting with?” I laugh looking him in the eye, “I don’t think you do. Tell me do you know what it’s like, what it’s really like to find out your life has been a lie? How mom’s vacations were because she had anger problems and nightmares about her time in Montana. Living without her for the first few years of life all so she can prevent social services from taking you from her forever. Or how ‘bout because of your sperm donor’s family mom actually resorted to being a murder and torturing people too,” I hiss the last part not wanting people to hear about mom. She could still get in trouble for it I’m pretty sure. The news of that from mom had sent me reeling, I stayed at Val’s for a week before I calmed down enough to come back home.

He looks down to his gloved hands sadly, “I didn’t know that wo-.”

“John do you know what it’s like to know that what the kids at school said to you turned out to be true. How much it hurt to be rejected for something you never thought possible, to think it was all lies because it was just easier to accept you were unlikeable.” I feel the lump in my throat form at those memories, “To have the permanent reminder,” I point to the scar on my upper left lip, “that parents told their children to hurt you because ‘daddy’ was a monster and so she deserves it because she’ll end up just like him.” I feel my arms shaking as my volume increases, “To worry that the only friend you’ve ever had in your life will leave because everyone else did once finding out you were the spawn of the devil,” “You’re just like your father! Nothing more than the devil. Devils produce more, no way around that.” Those words never stopped hurting, she was five when grandma said them as punishment, “How my own family decided I was too much to take care of while mom was sick because they all worried I would turn out like you!” My hand is holding onto something soft, silky as I continue, “The pain you’ve caused me and mom, how could ever possibly know what it’s like or even begin to understand it John!” 

I feel the water run down my face, noticing how I’ve become inches from his face. He’s silent, still, everything I had wanted him to be. Be the cold and calculating man people described him as and not the joke locals made him out to be, seeing his blank look now….i want the loud, over the top, dramatic man. Prove he was just putting on a show for me. Some false idea of him actually being a father. “Say something!” I’m glad that we’re outdoors as I yell in his face, my hand having hit the table. I look to see my other hand gripping his tie and shirt, just have to count to three, then my grip can loosen.

“What do you want me to say?” His voice is calm and unnerving to me. A chill runs up my spine. Is this how mom felt hearing his brother’s voice? His question stuns me as I no longer have an answer. My hand slowly releases him, “You’re right. I don’t know what any of that feels like. That I can’t begin to understand or know the full extent of what I put you and your mother through.” He’s smoothing out his shirt taking deep breaths, I see the anger management is working wonders, “I know there’s nothing I could ever do to make that up to you. But I’m trying Liz. I’m trying to be here for you now.”

I sit back down slowly, “Why not sooner? Why wait for me to find you?”

“I was respecting your mom’s wishes. Giving her space,” I can’t decide how much of what he’s saying true or not anymore. “I hurt her. I lost her,” he averts his eyes, “in more ways than you can ever know. I didn’t want her to leave but she turned into something I didn’t recognize. I just wanted the woman I fell in love with back.”

“Kidnapped,” the word leaves my mouth on instinct and he looks up stunned, “The woman you kidnapped back. The mom I deserved!” Everything is spinning and I don’t know how much of him I want in my life anymore. Is it even right to have him in my life? He’s committed so much wrong and I don’t know what kind of idiot mom was to fall for his tricks but she must have been kinder...softer. The mom I thought I had this whole time, a lie. An act. Someone that was dead and gone in his bunker surely, all by his hand. Everything in my life has been harder because of him, he’s the root of this life. 

I can’t think, everything is tangled and a mess. If my mom ever had a bleeding heart I must have inherited it to have played this game with him this long. I inherited his rage too, his old car was proof of that. There was no straight answer and I can’t live like this. I had a goal, a plan, everything was black and white, but now the colors are becoming muddled. I hate him and that’s all I need to know right this moment. 

My hand reaches for the warm soup bowl, throwing the contents in his face, “I don’t ever want to see you again.” I snatch my things, jerking the table, a glass of water spilling on him also. I regret that the soup wasn’t hotter, “Tell me John,” I tell him looking over my shoulder, “how much does it hurt now knowing you just lost me too?” I don’t wait for an answer, speeding to the nearest bus stop, jumping on the first one at random. People look away pointedly as I cry pulling out my phone calling the one person who’s never lied to me to come and get me.

#lizette eden oc #salvations two paths #canon for later down the road like post chance events #have I posted liz writing that wasn't her at five years old