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it-happened-one-fic · 2 days

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Hi! How are you?

I have an interesting request: "3

Can I request Baizhu with a half-adeptus reader (male, but , if you want, you can use gn) .

This is the story of a young Baizhu who saves a little bird from bullies. The bird, blind in one eye, recovered from severe wounds. The bird became a friend for Baizhu. Then... The bird suddenly flew away to freedom. Baizhu matured and became a doctor. Suddenly, a reader (blind in one eye) comes to “Bubu” and becomes an assistant for Baizhu. The reader loves to pamper Baizhu in all things and will complete even difficult tasks. The reader cares for Baizhu and truly loves him. As a result, they fall in love❤

The phrase will do here“You saved me when I was dying. You gave me the meaning of life. You helped me not to lose faith in the kindness of people...”(sorry about my bad Inglis... )

Hello Anon, I'm doing well, thank you! Also, don't worry about you English, you did a wonderful job with your request! I must confess that I wonder if you also write since you came up with such a complete plot for your request! Either way, I wrote this with a gender neutral reader since I'm not really comfortable writing a male reader, I hope you don't mind since you mentioned I could. I hope you enjoy!

Waiting - Baizhu

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ half-adepti reader/ fluff/ request

Word count: 959

Baizhu didn’t really know how long ago it was that he’d rescued a bird from a group of cruel youth that were toying with it. But watching Qiqi as she stared at finches with such gentle fascination reminded him of this little friend.

The bird had been blind in one eye, and its wounds had been severe. But he’d carefully cared for it. Feeding it and bandaging its injuries. Teaching it to fly once more, even though it had lost one of its bright little eyes.

It had been such a cheerful little bird. Always tweeting merrily and singing its lovely little song as it had perched on his shoulder.

Back then, he’d thought it would be his eternal friend, by his side till the very end. But it had flown away. Abandoning him for the freedom of the blue skies.

It was after that that Baizhu had become a doctor and met Changsheng, but he never forgot that little bird that had been his first patient.

And perhaps that was why he had immediately recalled the little bird when you’d shown up one day at Bubu Pharmacy and become his assistant.

Just like that little bird, you were blind in one eye and eternally cheerful. You would hum to yourself as you worked, adding an easygoing joy to the pharmacy.

Most everyone adored you. Baizhu’s gentle assistant, who doted on Qiqi, cared for patients equally, and seemed like an old friend to Baizhu from your very first day by his side.

Baizhu could rely on you for anything; no matter how difficult it was, you could do it. You were capable with medicines, swift with deliveries, and a source of comfort for those with the very worst of conditions.

You could even convince upset little children to take their medicine, and you never failed to have tea ready for Baizhu after one of his more intensive treatments.

It was obvious to anyone who saw you and him together, you doted on the doctor. Many whispered of your relationship, while others were satisfied to view you as another kind soul, perfectly matched to be by Baizhu’s side.

But Baizhu had noticed far more than your numerous charms. There were also your less-than-human traits.

Animals never fled your presence, and birds were known to flit over and sing along to your soft humming.

And then there was the way that you somehow knew numerous things about Baizhu from your first day at Bubu Pharmacy.

Be it his favorite tea, the candied fruits he used to help him handle the bitterness of his medicines, or his relationship with Changsheng, he knew them all.

But Baizhu was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth or question his own luck. Sometimes good things happen, and you just accept them. It was something Baizhu viewed as a lucky little blessing. And it was easy to view you that way, with how you doted and cared for the doctor.

But as he looked your way, he found himself tilting his head with a quiet smile, “You know, my first patient was actually a bird.”

You blinked in quiet surprise at his words, before you glanced over at where Qiqi stood, watching the finches silently, before looking back his way.

Baizhu chuckled at your silent surprise, “It was a long time ago, back when I was still very young. It had gotten hurt when some kids caught it.”

He glanced back over at the little girl by the window, feeling his smile turn wistful, “It left me not long after it had fully recovered, but that little bird inspired me… It’s probably why I went on to become a doctor. I don’t actually know how much longer it lived after it left me though….”

He trailed off, shaking his head at his own nostalgic musing, somehow feeling you might not like to be compared to such a fragile creature as the bird was, even if both of you were important to him now, be it as a fond memory or current companion.

But then you smiled, drifting closer before speaking to him in a quiet whisper, “You saved me when I was dying. You gave me the meaning of life. You helped me not to lose faith in the kindness of people…”

You trailed off, your gaze dropping towards the floor as Baizhu’s eyes widened, a thought entering his mind. Ridiculous and seemingly impossible, but unshakeable.

Perhaps there was a reason you and that little bird seemed so intrinsically linked within his mind, as laughable as it seemed.

But all at once, Baizhu felt like he was that little boy who had mourned the loss of his friend that had flown off into the blue sky once more.

“You…” He hesitated as you shifted, slowly meeting his gaze once more with the slightest of smiles.

“In truth, I am a half-adepti and capable of transforming into a bird… I would not have made it through those days if it weren’t for you, and I’ve never forgotten how you saved me,” You shifted, tilting your head in a way that perfectly reminded him of the bird as he stared at you in silent awe. Hardly able to even find the words.

“Thank you, Doctor Baizhu, and I’m sorry I kept you waiting for so long,” Those words were all it took for his breath to catch slightly before he felt himself smile. Still stunned, but somehow finding the words as his hands found yours.

His fingers linked themselves carefully as he held your gaze, eternally grateful that you had started him on his path towards medicine and that you had returned to him, as he spoke in an impossible soft voice, “And for you, I would have continued waiting for eternity.”

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scary-grace · 2 days

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Enough to Go By (Chapter 6) -- a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6

You find out what Tenko’s up to from the news – or from Kazuo, who texts you to tell you that “your friend” is making headlines again. It’s an uncharacteristic move for Tenko, who you know has been trying to keep to the shadows while he gathers allies, and it gets weirder when you find out that he showed up in a shopping center to have a conversation with one of the students from the class he attacked. You weren’t really watching the Sports Festival, but this kid made headlines for repeatedly breaking his fingers while trying to use his quirk. Every so often, quirked people make you really grateful that you don’t have one yourself.

Tenko didn’t get caught. He was long gone before the heroes and law enforcement showed up. But the incident leaves a weird taste in your mouth. He wandered into a mall to chat with a high school student. Why didn’t he talk to you? You’re supposed to be his best friend, his sidekick. He called the two of you hanging out together a date. What could he tell a high school student that he didn’t feel safe telling you?

The question consumes you more than you want it to, so you fall back on your now time-honored tradition of drowning yourself in tasks to avoid thoughts you don’t like. Work, and sitting with Yoshimi through her treatments, and ducking phone calls from your parents, who are moving the whole family – again – and want you to come home and help. Your mom threatens to throw away all your old stuff if you don’t, and even though you took everything you cared about with you when you moved away, the thought of your things being thrown out with the trash bothers you. It bothers you enough that you use your one day off in two weeks to go back to your parents’ house and clean out what’s left of your room.

When you get there, you find half the house out on the lawn, and your mother arguing with the oldest of your younger siblings. “Don’t take that tone with me, Haru,” she’s snapping. “Whatever you think you’re doing, it’s not as important as helping out your family. We need you here to –”

It’s like something snaps in your head, and you’re swamped in the memories of a hundred times where you were told the same thing. You thought that with you gone, your parents would have pulled themselves together, but it looks like not. It looks like they just dragged your brother into replace you. You step forward without thinking, right into the middle of it. “Hey, Haru. Hey, Mom. Sorry I’m late.”

Both of them stare at you. There’s something accusing in Haru’s stare, not that you blame him for that. Your mom looks more relieved than anything else, and with her temporarily neutralized, you turn to your brother. “Go do what you need to do, Haru. I’ll fill in until you get back.”

Haru doesn’t need to be told twice, and he doesn’t wait around for your mom to protest. He books it, and you turn to face your mom again, the feeling of accomplishment at defusing a conflict drowned almost immediately by your frustration with yourself. Two seconds. You’ve been here two seconds, and you’ve stepped back into the part you used to play like you never left.

Your mom hugs you. “Haru’s been just terrible these last few years,” she complains. “Any time we ask him to help, he throws the biggest fit. I can’t count the number of times I’ve told him to act more like you –”

“He’s nineteen, Mom. He’s got his own life,” you remind here, like it’ll help at all. You step back out of her embrace. “I came to sort through my stuff. Where is it?”

She gestures vaguely at one corner of the front yard, and you make your way over, at which point you discover that what your mom described as your stuff is actually only half yours. The other half seems to be every picture and keepsake your parents have of you. You knew your relationship with your parents wasn’t ideal, that they stopped being interested in you the second you stopped being useful to them, but seeing this gives you pause. “Mom –”

“We’re downsizing,” your mother explains. “Take what you want. We’ll throw the rest out.”

Fine. If that’s how they want it, that’s fine with you. The first things you dump in the throwaway pile are every photo that consists of just you and one or both of your parents. There goes the whole first year of your life, like it never happened at all. After that, it gets a little more difficult, because your siblings are in the pictures and it’s not their fault they were born. You find a partially filled photo album, start stripping the pictures you want to keep from their frames, and fit them into the remaining spaces. You don’t have a lot of space for picture frames. And this way you don’t have to look at them unless you want to.

Most of your toys and books went to your siblings as hand-me-downs, usually before you were actually done with them, so most of the things that are yours are things you had to fight to save. Your favorite books, which you rescued by carrying them around in your backpack twenty-four seven. A journal with a lock on it and no key, but you know how to pick locks now, so it doesn’t matter as much as it did before. Then there’s a box that’s been taped, glued, and stapled shut, with DO NOT TOUCH written all over it. You remember mummifying this box when you were ten or so. You just don’t remember why you did it.

You can open it once you’re home. You stack the photo album on top of it and keep hunting through all the pieces of your life that your parents are planning to throw away.

In the end, you can’t take much stuff. You don’t have very much room, and while Kazuo would probably agree to let you store things in his house, you don’t want to have to ask him to do that. There’s not really that much important stuff here, anyway. The books and games from when you were really little? You outgrew them a long time ago, so what would you even be keeping them for? It’s not like you’re going to have kids.

That thought came out of nowhere. You sit back on your heels, frowning at the change of tune. In spite of the shitshow of your childhood and the fact that you’d most likely pass on your quirklessness and put the next generation in the same second-class position as you are, you’ve always seen yourself having children. Not very many children. Two, most likely, and a decent difference in their ages – enough that you could let them have their own time instead of treating them like twins, not so much that you’d run the risk of parentifying the older one even slightly. You think you’d be a good parent, maybe. At the very least you know what not to do.

You’ve been sure of that since you were old enough to figure out where babies come from. This is the first time you’ve had the other thought, and it feels like a certainty. When did it change?

The answer is lurking somewhere in the back of your mind, and you decide you’re not interested in answering it right now. With your stuff sorted, you dump the things you’re not taking into the garbage pile, making sure your mom sees which photos you’re getting rid of. You really should leave after that, but then the rest of your siblings come barreling out of the house, and you don’t think you should leave without saying goodbye.

Isuzu, the oldest of your younger sisters, is in her last year of high school. Music is her thing, and she’s applying to every conservatory in the country – keeping her options open, she says, but you know she means getting away from home. The twins, Shigure and Shinji, are both at Ketsubutsu Academy, training to be heroes. They’ve enhanced their control over their quirks to the point where they can induce specific parts of the vomiting process at will, and they demonstrate it on you, making your throat burn and your mouth flood with bitter-tasting saliva before your mom catches them at it and makes them stop. The triplets, a full ten years younger than you, aren’t even out of primary school yet. They want to be heroes, too.

Your dad arrives, with Haru in tow, as you’re making your second attempt to escape. He hugs you, too, and asks why you don’t come home more – right before he asks you to get the triplets washed up for dinner and check that they’ve done their homework. You almost tell him to go fuck himself, but ultimately you don’t want the fight. You herd the triplets back inside and start with the homework.

Isuzu follows you, not speaking up until after you’ve confirmed that the homework is completed and shooed the triplets off to the bathroom. “How did you do that so fast? It takes me and Haru forever to get them moving.”

“Practice,” you say. “More than I should have gotten. More than you’ll get if you get out of here.”

“I’m working on it,” Isuzu says. She looks uncomfortable, and like she wants to say more. You wait. “I’m sorry I told on you back then. If I hadn’t, maybe –”

You shake your head. “I had to go.” You cover your upper arm, the same motion Tenko made, and a chill runs down your spine. “I didn’t leave because you told them about this. I left because I got into my apprenticeship, and they told me I couldn’t do it.”

“What?” Isuzu looks shocked. “Why?”

“They needed me at home.” You shrug, your nonchalance masking the memory of the bolt of rage that shot through you when you realized what they were trying to do. “The only way to stop it was to make sure I wasn’t home anymore. I wish it hadn’t landed on you and Haru.”

“Haru’s madder about it than me,” Isuzu says. She leans against you, her head on your shoulder. “I remember stuff he doesn’t. Like that friend you had across the street. I don’t remember his name –”

“Tenko,” you say. Your heart lurches into an unsteady rhythm. “You remember him?”

“Not really. I remember you talking about him, though. You always had so many stories to tell.” Isuzu sighs. “Did they ever find out what really happened to him?”

“No,” you say. You did, though. You might be the only one who knows what became of Shimura Tenko, and even you don’t know the details. “I’m surprised you remember. Mom and Dad didn’t like me talking about him.”

“They didn’t like you being sad,” Isuzu corrects. “They don’t like me being sad, either. I’d be sad if it was my best friend who vanished. You said you were gonna marry him.”

“I – what?” Before you can follow up on the absolutely batshit thing your sister just said, one of the triplets comes back into the living room with obviously unwashed hands. “Arisa, I know you didn’t wash those. Go back in.”

Arisa sticks her tongue out at you. “You can’t tell me what to do. You don’t even live here. And you don’t have a quirk.”

“Right,” you say, a moment before Arisa activates her quirk and wallops you with every ounce of the contempt she feels for you. It takes all your self-control to avoid bursting into tears. “I can leave, though. Mom can’t get me in trouble any more, because I’m grown up. But she can definitely get you in trouble. Risk it if you want.”

Arisa glares at you for a moment longer, then heads back to the bathroom. You clear your throat and blink hard, digging your nails into your palm to give yourself something else to focus on. “Even I felt that one,” Isuzu remarks, wincing. “How do you take this stuff?”

You clear your throat again. “Practice.”

You make it through dinner, then book it, telling Isuzu and Haru to look you up the next time they’re in Yokohama and hitting the road before the twins or the triplets can use their quirks on you again. You cry a little bit on the train home, just enough to let off steam, and text your friends, who know what your family’s like and all advised you not to go. When they ask how it went, you send back a sad face.

Mitsuko: fuck them, then. they don’t deserve you

Hirono: come over and get trashed if you want. always makes me feel better

Sho: ooh, party at Hiro’s

Sho: count me in

Yoshimi: I can’t but 💛💛💛

Mitsuru: can I bring Izumi

Mitsuru gets a resounding thumbs-down from everybody for that one. Ryuhei chimes in, saying he’s down for a party, and Kazuo moves the venue to his house from Hirono’s shitty apartment in Kamino Ward. When you get off the train in Yokohama, you head over to Kazuo’s without stopping at home first.

Your friends have varying ideas on how to make you feel better. Mitsuko and Hirono think you should get drunk, so you drink a little, and Sho thinks you should bitch as much as you want about your family, so you do. Mitsuru’s got lots of siblings, so you complain about siblings together, and Ryuhei, not to be outdone, offers to beat up the triplets for you. “My quirk is perfect for it,” he says. “They’ll never know what hit them.”

They wouldn’t – Ryuhei’s quirk is called Reflection, and it bounces any quirk-based attack right back in the face of whoever sent it. “They’re ten,” you say.

“So?”

“Wait until they’re adults and it’ll be legal,” Kazuo says blandly. “What’s in the box?”

“Oh,” you say. You haven’t let go of it, although you relinquished the photo album to Mitsuko and Hirono after extracting promises that they wouldn’t take the photos out. “I’m not sure. I guess I thought it was pretty important.”

Kazuo touches his temple, then lowers his hand. “You don’t know, so I don’t know, either.”

“Let’s open it,” Hirono suggests. Mitsuko is still flipping through the photo album. “What kind of dirty secrets have you got in there?”

“I was ten. Not a lot of dirty secrets at that age.” You hold the box out to her. “Mind doing the honors on the tape?”

Hirono’s quirk is called Slice. It lets her cut narrow lines in any substance she draws her finger over, and you know she’s used it for good and evil at various points in her life. She cuts through the tape, you pry out the staples, and you and your friends from high school look down at the things you thought were worth hiding when you were ten years old.

There’s another journal, which means the one you grabbed was probably a decoy. You don’t remember being this sneaky, but you’re guessing you had a reason, and as you look through the other things in the box, you realize what it was. “I hid this before my memory got wiped,” you say. “It’s all things about my friend.”

“I thought they were just wiping your memories of the murder scene,” Mitsuru says, frowning.

“That’s what they got, sort of.” Memories are coming back to you as you peer into the box, memories of collecting these things, squirreling them away, panic beating at the base of your throat the entire time. “They were going for all of it.”

There’s a plush toy – a corgi, the same kind as Tenko’s dog, because you’d always wanted a dog and your parents always said no. Tenko got it for you for your birthday, the same year you had to go home early from his party. There are a bunch of photos, too, stolen out of a photo album – possibly the same partially-empty album you found when you were sorting. Some are from school. Some are from parties – yours, Tenko’s, Hana’s. Some were pretty clearly taken by Tenko’s mom. Seeing them makes you want to cry.

In the pictures, Tenko’s house is still standing. Tenko’s family is still alive. There’s Tenko like he used to be, dark-haired and grey-eyed and quirkless and happy. The two of you were always happy together, even if you weren’t happy at home. “These are cute,” Sho remarks. “Lots of puppy love going on here, and I’m not talking about the dog.”

You remember that you apparently told Isuzu you were going to marry Tenko and cringe from the thought. “Don’t be weird.”

“If it helps, it doesn’t look all that unrequited,” Mitsuko says, peering over your shoulder. “Check that one out.”

The photo she’s pointing at is from your class’s Valentine’s Day party. You and Tenko are trying to trade valentines, except you’re too embarrassed to look at him while you hand yours over. He’s not embarrassed to look at you. He’s grinning, that same smile that some of the other girls called creepy, the one you still like seeing because you know that it’s real, and he’s holding out a valentine of his own for you.

The valentine Tenko gave you is in the box, although his handwriting is impossible to read when you’ve had as many drinks as you’ve had tonight. In the corner of the box is another, tinier box. It looks like a jewelry box, and when you pry it open, a memory floods over you. There’s a locket inside. You put a picture in it the day before you got your memory wiped, and when you pick it up, you find the picture staring up at you. Tenko. Even five years after he vanished, you couldn’t let him go.

You shouldn’t have had so much to drink. If you were sober, you absolutely wouldn’t be bursting into tears.

Your friends aren’t exactly clear on why you’re crying, but they comfort you anyway, Mitsuko and Hirono and Sho hugging you while Ryuhei and Mitsuru hang awkwardly back, patting your shoulders. The only person who doesn’t get in on it is Kazuo, but Kazuo was never the touchiest, even before his mind snapped. And something’s up with Kazuo tonight. Even through your own mess of emotion, you can tell.

You wait until everyone else is drifting off before you try to get it out of him. “What’s wrong?”

“The HPSC is reactivating me.”

“They – what?” The alcohol’s made you just a little slow – the anger hits before the understanding’s truly formed in your head. “No, they can’t. They can’t, Kazuo! After what they did to you –”

“My provisional license is still active. That means they can.” Kazuo extracts a letter from his pocket and holds it out for you to peruse. You can barely read it. Your vision is swimming with rage. “When All Might crippled the black market, he took down every possible informant with it. Someone is backing the League of Villains. They need to find out who. My quirk is the fastest way.”

“They can’t do this. Not with what happened last time.” Your heart is hammering. Kazuo’s work-study was in Yokohama. When he collapsed, they brought him to your clinic, and you saw firsthand what overuse of his quirk did to him. “It could kill you.”

“There are safeguards, theoretically.” Kazuo’s voice is flat, emotionless. Like it’s been for two years and counting. “If you read further in the letter, you’ll see the protocol they outlined.”

You don’t need to read it. “You’ve got a medical condition. Using your quirk will exacerbate it. They can’t just conscript you like this!”

“It’s done,” Kazuo says. You look at him, speechless with fury, still too close to tears. “I didn’t tell you so you could get angry over something you can’t solve. I told you because I’ve predicted the types of questions they’ll instruct me to ask. I can ask them in a way that will preclude you in the answers.”

You hadn’t even thought that far ahead. “But in order for me to do that,” Kazuo continues, “you must keep yourself out of their search parameters. As long as you don’t directly aid your friend in the committing of a crime, you’ll fall outside their net.”

“Directly aid,” you repeat. “What does that mean?”

Kazuo gives you a look. “Failing to stop something is not the same thing as assisting in it.”

Now you get it. Kazuo’s telling you that simply knowing what Tenko’s up to isn’t enough to get you in trouble. In order for you to come under suspicion through Kazuo’s quirk, you’d have to actually do something – not just to help Tenko, but to help Tenko commit a crime. “I understand.”

You do. But that fury is still bubbling up within you, pointless as it is, at the thought that catching some vague scraps of information about the League of Villains is worth Kazuo’s sanity, Kazuo’s life. “We’ll figure something out. I won’t let them keep using you.”

Kazuo’s eyes are blank. They’ve been blank for years. But every so often you’ve seen a flash of something within them – some feeling, something familiar, something of the boy you knew. “You can’t save both of us,” he says, and his right hand falls from his temple to rest in his lap.

He was using his quirk just then. What was he asking? What did he see? You want to ask him, but he’s just picked up a half-empty bottle of vodka and drained it, and now it’s all hands on deck to hustle him to the bathroom in time for him to throw it back up.

The thought crosses your mind, as you’re rubbing his shoulders and offering him tissues to wipe his mouth, that it would have been easier if you’d fallen harder for Kazuo. If you’d fallen hard enough to cling to him even when his heroic ambitions pulled him away, hard enough to hold on even when the overuse of his quirk destroyed his ability to feel anything at all, hard enough to fight for him even when he doesn’t see a point to trying at anything any longer. It would have been hard, sure. But at the same time, it would have been easier for everyone involved if you’d felt for Kazuo the way you feel for Tenko.

You and Kazuo fall asleep on the bathroom floor, and in the morning, you’ve got a backache and a hangover. So does everybody else, but there’s something at least a little relieving in the fact that you’re all suffering together. You’ve got work, but it’s a half day, and it starts at noon. Plenty of time for you to go home and take a shower and try to sober up the rest of the way.

At least that’s what you think. When you step out of the bathroom in your apartment wrapped in a towel, you step directly into a warp gate, and it swallows you whole.

Kurogiri said he’d tell you what you were walking into the next time Tenko summoned you, but maybe he just forgot. You think you can probably talk Tenko into sending you back long enough to put on clothes. But once your feet touch the ground, it’s clear that you aren’t in the bar, where you’ve been nearly every time Tenko’s called for you. The air is cold and clammy, and there’s a strange smell, half antiseptic, half rot. You know this smell. You remember it from a field trip you took in nursing school. It smells like a morgue.

It smells like a morgue, and it’s pitch-black. You can’t see your hand in front of your face. Where’s Tenko? You can’t imagine him summoning you here without an explanation – which means he’s not the one who summoned you. Who did?

A voice issues from the darkness, deep and almost friendly. “Do you know who I am?”

The revulsion and terror that sweeps over you at the sound of his voice are almost enough to bring you to your knees. But you grew up in a family full of quirk users whose quirks affected the mind and body, and they loved to practice on you. Sixteen years of surviving it gives you the experience to stay on your feet. And when you think about it, you do know who this is. “You’re Sensei,” you say, and the man in the darkness makes a pleased sound. “Shigaraki’s master.”

“Very good,” the man says, but it isn’t – you only remembered to use Tenko’s new name at the last second. “Now it’s your turn. Tell me who you are – and who you are to Tomura.”

“I’m – nobody,” you say. Sensei’s influence over you intensifies, and you keep your feet with an effort. “I’m a nurse. He came to the clinic I work at last year. He’d hurt his wrist.”

“I see,” Sensei says after a moment. “Had you met Tomura before that time?”

Tomura? No. You shake your head, only to remember that Tenko’s master probably can’t see in the dark. “No.”

“But you’ve seen him since.”

“Yes,” you say. “When he’s injured, he sends Kurogiri to find me. So I can help.”

“I see,” Sensei says again. You’re tempted to point out that if the doctor, whoever the doctor is, had treated Tenko’s gunshot wounds, Tenko wouldn’t have needed to call for you in the first place. But that would escalate things. You keep your mouth shut. “Do you possess a healing quirk?”

“No.”

“That’s a shame,” Sensei remarks. “Would you like one?”

“No,” you say at once. Maybe too quickly, given the insanity of the statement. “It’s not possible to give quirks.”

“It is. And they can be taken away just as easily,” Sensei says. You stay quiet, and when he speaks again, it’s a change of subject. “It seems Tomura has taken a liking to you.”

“I – I wouldn’t know,” you stammer. How much does Tenko’s master know? “I don’t know how Shigaraki feels about anything.”

“Thankfully, I do.” Sensei goes silent for a moment. “I suppose it’s wise of Tomura to keep a medical provider in his orbit, even if you would be more useful to him with a healing quirk. What is your quirk?”

Your stomach instantly twists into a knot. “I don’t have one.”

“Mm.” Sensei’s voice takes on a reflective note. “Let’s remedy that.”

The darkness is complete. You don’t see the hand coming; all you can do is startle when it clamps down over your face, enormous and rough and hot. Your breath leaves you in a sharp gasp, too quiet to be a scream but still too close for comfort. But just as suddenly as the hand settled over your face, it pulls away with equal speed. Sensei chuckles, a low, dark sound that makes your skin crawl. “You’ve been dishonest with me, but I can’t fault you for not sharing what you don’t know.”

You’ve been dishonest, yes. It doesn’t seem like he knows about that. But what don’t you know? “Sir? I don’t understand.”

“You have manners. It’s a shame Tomura won’t appreciate them,” Sensei says. “You will understand in time. Kurogiri?”

The mist begins to billow around you – and at the same time, it clears partially, revealing the shape of the man standing before you. He’s terrifyingly large, looming over you, and his face – “I would advise against telling Tomura of our meeting,” Sensei says as you stare up at him in terror, “but that is ultimately your decision to make. You and I will have no further dealings. Tomura has chosen you as a piece in his game. I will leave you to him.”

The terror drowns you. You fight to keep your head above water. “Yes, sir.”

“Sir,” Sensei repeats. “I do like that.”

The tone in his voice breaks your composure, just as the mist closes around you. By the time Kurogiri deposits you back on the floor in your apartment – in your apartment, they know where you live – you’re hyperventilating, panicking, almost out of your mind. “Shigaraki Tomura will call for you this evening,” Kurogiri says. “I do not know his purpose. I advise you to be prepared for either possibility.”

For a date. Or for a meeting with his new allies. You’ve never felt less prepared for anything in your life. Kurogiri vanishes, and you curl up in a ball, shivering. Maybe it’s from the cold. Maybe it’s from the smell of rot. Maybe it’s from the pure terror of meeting Tenko’s master, of the lingering sensation of his hand closing over your face. Whatever it is, you have to get rid of it. And you still have to go to work. You crawl back to the bathroom, turn the shower on scalding, and climb in.

#shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #shigaraki tomura #shimura tenko x reader #tenko shimura x reader #shimura tenko #x reader #reader insert #please hold

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starfxkr · 3 days

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you should do outfits throughout the week with trailer park!reader❤️

i been workin on this for you baby <3

monday: working at your shitty job at the tiddy restaurant. your universe is barely even that just a white crop tank and the tiniest shorts ever. there's barely a dress code so you get to wear your ratty old sneakers. you get lots of tips because of your sweet babydoll face.

tuesday: jj decides it's time to go fishing and you have no choice but to go. it's really an excuse for the two of you to have the day, you help him with the bait and everything but for the most part you sit in the cabin and relax while he does all the work. you definitely end the day ass up while he fucks you on the water.

wednesday: errand day! you do the first half while jj's at work, going to the fish and meat market early before the crowd comes in. he had a short day that day and comes home early so the two of you can get the cabinet fillers and other odds and ends around the house. you run into the chismosas who seem to have a lot to say while you excitedly give him soaps to sniff so he can help you make a decision but he tells you to pay them no mind. you love errand day, and you do in fact feel the need to be the cutest girl in walmart.

thursday: jj forgot to pack a lunch so you decide to go to the shop and bring it to him. you pack it in your old lunchbox and he has kind of a weird reaction but you ignore it when he gives you a kiss. he asks you to eat with him and you do, all his coworkers crack jokes about him cradle robbing but again he tells you to ignore them. he seems pissy by the end of it though.

friday: jj takes you to the local bar. the whole time you're dancing and you get wayyyy too drunk and he ends up fingering you in the booth your sitting at. also end up fucking in the bathroom. also end up doing it again but this time with some girl you were eyeing there too. when you get home he's carrying you in his arms and putting you to bed because you still dont listen to your limits.

saturday: unsurprisingly you feel like shit the next day but its gonna get worse. the past two days have really pissed him off and he makes you wash his truck, and you can't pout your way out of this one. it fucking sucks, its way too hot and you end up a sopping wet mess while he just sits and watches you.

sunday: you finally get to relax, walking around in one of his massive sweaters and the two of you spending the day watching tv and pigging out because neither of you feel like cooking. you apologize for acting an ass and the whole coming to his job looking like a slut thing but he tells you not to worry bout it.

#✨.txt #trailer park!reader

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cowgurrrl · 3 days

Note

i love oftm fam so much 🥹 i would love literally any updates on them :)

OFTM GANG RISE UP 🗣️🗣️🗣️

How Could I Not Love You?

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Author’s note: this isn’t my favorite but I miss them desperately

Summary: “You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.” [2.5k]

Warnings: newborn stuff, angst, the Garcia-Long family coming in clutch, god they are so in love it hurts, smutty dialogue toward the end but no smut because I chickened out

You don't know that you've ever been this tired. The girls have been in the world for a whopping two and a half months, and you feel like you've been awake for the entirety of those two months. None of the Miller kids are particularly good sleepers— even Sarah didn't sleep through the night until she was two and a half, which Joel conveniently forgot to tell you when you talked about having kids— but with the addition of the girls, it feels much harder. They wake up at different times throughout the night to feed, get changed, or be held, which complicates the rotation. Also, Sam's sleep schedule has regressed, and he's up at random times. Having three under five is not all it's cracked up to be.

You love Joel, and you love watching him be a dad, but your relationship has suffered through the just-barely-surviving stage of having newborns. You try to make time to watch a movie or just talk, but whenever you do, someone starts crying. Even if you're able to sit down for more than five minutes without a kid needing something, you're half-asleep and in no shape for a conversation.

It didn't hit you how much of a toll it's taken on you until you were up for one of the late-night feeds with Violet, and he lay there, watching you through the darkness. You turned to look at him and reached out with your free hand to smooth down some stray hair. He smiled sleepily and turned to kiss your wrist before whispering, "I miss you." You wanted to say that he doesn't need to miss you, and you're right there, but you weren't. Not really.

"I miss you, too," you whispered back, feeling the sting of the truth on the back of your tongue. You wanted to say more—to remind him how much you love him and tell him how you couldn't do this without him—but Sophia's tinny cry closed the window of opportunity before it could fully open.

You love your kids. You couldn't imagine anything better than watching them grow and interact with each other. They are so wanted and loved, but it still feels really fucking hard. You're sitting on the couch, feeding a baby while Joel bounces another and plays Army men with Sam, feeling like a horrible wife and mother, when the lock turns on your front door and your second family enters.

Carolina, Ryan, Elizabeth, Victoria, and Penelope descend upon your living room like well-meaning vultures, and you give them a confused look. Penelope immediately runs to Sam, and they embrace in their awkward toddler way before they scurry off to his room to play. Victoria, now nine and looking more like Carolina every day, gushes over Daisy. Elizabeth, in her teenage grace, plops down next to you on the couch and squeezes you, trying not to disturb Sophia too much.

"What are you doing here?" You ask Carolina, looking at her like she's a saint, and she smiles.

"I heard you could use a break," she says. You're about to argue with her and insist that you've got everything under control, but she stops you. "We have two and a half adults, play buddies for Sam and Daisy, and nothing to do for the rest of the day. Plus, I've been itching to hold a baby." She explains. You turn to look back at Joel, who is now babyless and standing next to a baby-equipped Ryan, and give him a look.

"Did you do this?" You ask.

"Would it be the worst thing in the world if we went to dinner alone?" Just the idea of an actual dinner is enough to make you waver. You've both been living off of takeout and Sam's leftovers since the girls were born, and you're dying for a change of scenery. There's more than enough frozen breastmilk in the fridge for the girls, and they're at ease with their aunt and uncle. Sam is ecstatic to have someone to play with, and Daisy looks excited to get some attention. Surely, a few hours couldn't hurt.

"Fine, but you can't make me wear pants."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Joel says. Once Sophia is done feeding, you hand her off to Carolina and show Elizabeth where everything is. They don't need a rundown of everything a newborn needs, but it makes you feel better to ramble about their routine to make sure it all gets done.

With all the kids placated, you and Joel sneak off to your room to change out of the clothes you've been wearing for God knows how long. You put on a maxi dress and spray dry shampoo in your hair while Joel buttons up a nice shirt.

"Thank you," you say as you put on earrings, glancing at him in the mirror. “You didn't have to do this." He gives you a confused look but shakes it off with a quick kiss to your cheek.

"I wanted to. You deserve a break."

"We deserve a break," you correct, and he hums as he wraps an arm around your waist. Even though he hasn't been dealing with postpartum and breastfeeding problems, he's still been in the trenches with you. For a quiet minute, you stand together and take a breath for the first time in months. Yeah, you desperately needed this.

You quickly finish getting ready before your plans can get thwarted and are shooed out of the house by Carolina and Ryan. They promise to text you updates and have everyone in bed on time, but don't pressure you to come home early. "We've got this," Carolina says with enough conviction that you can believe her. Still, your anxiety spikes once you're down the driveway, and you have to convince yourself that everything is okay. Joel grabbing your hand and asking you a question pleasantly distracts you.

The autumn sun slowly sets over the California hills and casts a golden glow over Joel's face, catching the grays in his hair and beard beautifully. He's fifty now and older than he ever thought he'd be. He told you as much on the night of his birthday, along with his fears of being an older dad and husband. "I just don't wanna miss anythin'," he said. You reminded him that he was only fifty and he's in exceptional health for someone who spent most of his thirties and forties making music and bouncing around the world on tours. Plus, aging looks good on him.

You talk about little things like how he's scribbled lyrics onto a notepad he keeps beside the bed or how Daisy has adjusted to having three little kids around instead of one. You're in the middle of saying something when he makes a familiar turn, and you can't stop the laugh from leaving you as the restaurant comes into view.

"Are you serious?" You ask, looking at him with a big smile, and he shrugs.

"What?" He asks, as if he's not stopping in front of the restaurant where you had your first (contractually obligated) date.

"Joel, we haven't been here in…" you trail off as you do the mental math before gasping. It's ten years to the day of your first date. Guilt immediately pools at the base of your spine, but Joel just sits there with a smirk on his face. "Oh, my God, I'm so sorry. I didn't even realize. I've been so caught up with Sammy and the girls and-" he leans over the center console and kisses you before you can continue rambling.

Normally, you make it a point to remember days like this. Your first date, breaking up, getting back together, getting engaged, getting married, all of it. That's why it's so shocking that you forgot about it, and on a milestone year, no less.

"I'm so sorry." You say, and he shakes his head.

"I didn't say anything, so it could be a surprise," he says. "I called Caro and Ryan about a month ago to set this up, and I rented out the whole restaurant, so it's just us. We don't have to worry about cameras or fans or anythin'."

Of fucking course, he would do something like this. You sigh and drop your head to his shoulder.

"I didn't even get you anything." You mumble guiltily. He chuckles and kisses your temple.

"You just had two of my kids. I think that's more than enough." He says. You could spiral about feeling like a bad partner (how could you forget when your life together started?), but you have plenty of time for that. For dinner, however, you're on the clock. So, you push the thoughts away for now and stare at your husband fondly.

"I love you so much it's stupid," you say, and he smiles.

"Right back atcha, baby." He says. Much like he did on your first date, he gets out first and gives the car keys to the valet before opening your door for you. You take his arm and walk into the restaurant with him. There's no need for a hostess since there's only one table set up in the space, and it's impossible to miss it. Beautiful flowers surround the table, already set with a bottle of wine and a bouquet of red roses like the ones he turned up at your door with. He pulls your chair out for you and steals a kiss before moving to the other side of the table. Light, romantic music plays over the speakers, and the candle flickers in the middle of the table. It's perfect.

The bottle of wine is from the year you were married, and it has a special label bearing both your names. You haven't had any wine for almost a year, and Joel, knowing this, evidently pulled out all the stops. He pours each of you a glass and raises it in a toast. "Thanks for going on a second date with me," he says, and you laugh.

"Thanks for giving me a reason to." You say and clink your glass against his. The wine is amazing, and it's not just because you haven't had any in so long. You spend some time catching up with each other and talking about nothing important until a very nice waiter comes by to take your orders. Besides the waiter coming and going, you're left alone with Joel, with nobody crying or asking you for anything. It's nice, if not a little strange.

You take your time eating and drinking and giving Joel your full attention. You laugh together and get butterflies when he kisses your hand or brushes his knee against yours. It's a little silly to get so worked up over such small gestures, but it's been a hot second since you've had adult time, so you figure it's fair. God forbid you still find your husband attractive.

In the middle of dessert, a special request of Texas Trash Pie— which doesn't come close to his mother's but is still delicious— you look up from the dish and find whipped cream in his beard. You snort a laugh at the sight, and Joel furrows his brows.

"What?" He chuckles. You gather your napkin in your hands and reach out to wipe his face, not unlike you do with your son, and he blushes a little when he realizes what was making you laugh. "Can't believe you still like a mess like me." He says before taking another bite and somehow getting more on his face. Once you're full and pleasantly tipsy from the wine, you scoot your chair closer to Joel, and his hand finds a home on your thigh.

You can't stop staring at him. You track the changes you've watched unfold over the past decade: a little more grey on his temples, the creases next to his eyes a little more prominent, and his hair a little longer. He still has that indescribable sparkle in his eye that you think can only be a product of his joy. Your heart squeezes when it only intensifies as he looks at you.

"We've been together a long time," you say, and he hums. "Ten years, five kids, one dog, three finished albums, and one in the works."

"And four movies, an Academy Award, and how many others?" Joel chimes in, never the one to just accept praise, and you roll your eyes playfully.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," you say, making him smile. You grab his left hand and trace his gold wedding band back and forth and back and forth a few times before you look at him again. "I mean, considering everything, we've done pretty well for ourselves. Can you handle ten more years with me?"

"I'd take a hundred more years with you." He says so quickly it takes your breath away. "I'd do it all over again if it meant this would be our life."

"Even though we have to change shitty diapers and get no sleep?" You ask, the question betraying the sudden tears, and he laughs.

"There are worse things." Like thinking you'll never see each other again. Like running out of time. Like never seeing him in our children's faces. Yeah, there are much worse things. You take a deep breath and squeeze his hand.

"I love you." You whisper like you told him you missed him not even a week ago.

"I love you, too." He whispers back as he kisses you sweetly. The waiter lets you linger for another half an hour before dropping the check and very politely tells you they'll be closing soon. Joel leaves a big tip as an apology for staying so late and personally thanks all the staff who worked to make this possible. He's all Southern charm and manners, even as you leave the restaurant and wait for the car.

"Thank you for tonight." You say, and Joel gives you a look.

"Y'know, we don't have to go back just yet. The kids are all in bed. Carolina and Ryan said to enjoy each other." He says, and you squint at him, a smirk pulling on your lips.

"And what would we do with all that extra time?"

"I might've reserved a room in a hotel nearby, just in case. We can order breakfast to the room early and be home before the kids wake up."

"Do Caro and Ryan know about this?" You ask, but you already know the answer. You scoff a little and shake your head before stepping close to him. "You must've been really desperate to fuck your wife to plan all this, huh?" Your lips brush against the shell of his ear, and you swear, you feel him shudder.

"Don't worry, baby. I'm gonna take such good care of you."

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethksplz2004 @buckyispunk @d1lf-loverrr @vee-bees-blog @moel-jiller @anoverwhelmingdin @casssiopeia @maried01 @acupofhollie

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parsapuff · 3 days

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Important Updates!

So everyone kinda knows how I'm struggling to release cc rn so I'll list some reasons why I'm currently struggling.

I'm loosing Interest In posting anything on tumblr rn.

I've been out of energy and extremely tired for a while now. I don't really know what's going on with me but I haven't been really able to do much other then sleep

I never expected to get this big of a following and It's definitely making me nervous to post anything.

I had an art account a few years agon on twt and this same thing happened to me so I just kinda stopped posting. 😥

Don't really want to stop posting here tho since I still love making cc and want to release It for everyone. So I decided to make some changes. First of all I'm no longer keeping the voting poll active. I'll also only be making cc that I'm Interested In. Request poll will stay since many of the requests I've gotten are actually really good Ideas!

REQUESTS

Requesting other series Is fine I'll just be making characters from stuff I'm also Interested In! Sadly to the Honkai Impact 3rd fans I might not be making much of them anymore. I Just don't really care for the game but I do like a lot of the designs so I might be making them In the future still! I might make a big batch of mini sets for the HI3 characters that I haven't done yet so you'll at least have the hairs.

Made my current batch shorter as well. I'm going to pick future characters just based on who I wan't to work on.

Sorry If no one likes the change btw since the other option Is for me to just leave and stop posting </3 Just trying to make everything easier for me. Here's a small list of character's I'll still be working on. Some characters aren't here since I ran out of space or just forgot them. (sorry Sethos </3)

To make It easier to post stuff I'll be getting rid of one of the download sites. Either Google Drive or Mediafire. (leaning on google drive cause I hate putting stuff there) I'll also be asking the last people who took my photos If they could continue taking them In the future too 👉👈Other Idea Is letting someone else post them but Idk anyone here that well and talking to people scares me a bit </3

Also I'll be going through my old sets and adding specular maps to them! I'll retweet each set once I've updated them <3 This Is something I'll be doing slowly btw. But that's pretty much everything I wanted to say (I think) Hopefully this makes sense to people cause Idk what I'm typing here half of the time (plus english Is my second language so I make a lot of mistakes) Feel free to ask questions and I'll answer them the best I can. (sometimes tumblr dosen't notify me that I've gotten a comment btw so If I miss It sorry </3)

#updates #important #sorry </3

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mcuamerica · 13 hours

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The Shadowsinger: Eight

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. More angst, PTSD/nightmares, misogyny, threat of physical punishment ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're still at Windhaven, and you can't help that rage that builds by the day.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!

Series Masterlist

Prologue - One - Two - Three - Four - Five - Six - Seven

After a week, your nights were full of nightmares that entailed your wings getting clipped, being beaten to a pulp by your father, and (oddly enough) a young Azriel and Cassian getting ripped to shreds by an older Illyrian. Why it had been Cassian AND Azriel, you had no idea. But it didn’t sit well with you as you got up everyday and trained with the other females while Cassian went to different war camps. He never mentioned which one.

You argued with him when he said he would need to go to another camp instead of train you. And since both Rhys and Azriel were busy with their own missions, that meant you wouldn’t train. But Cassian gave you the option to train with the females at Windhaven or to wait for him to come back at the end of the week. You would have said no, had it not been for what you’d seen that first day. How their commander wasn’t even training them, just letting them run around in circles, doing what looked to be endurance training. And maybe a little heavy weight training, if they were lucky. So you decided training with them was better than not training at all. And it would help you as emissary, especially if you could get the girls to start sparring and not just exercising.

When the male commander didn’t even help the girls with their warm up stances, you had your shadows nudge them enough so they corrected it. And then, they actually moved on from their constant loop of motions to sparring. Just like you had hoped. There were five girls today, and then you. You paired with one named Ragna. Her skin was darker than anyone else you’d seen, and she had pointed ears which told you that she was only half Illyrian. Though she had wings. And she was the one that showed the most promise. You were surprised they even let her train if she wasn’t full Illyrian, but then again, neither was Rhys. Though you had a feeling Devlon didn’t have much of a choice with him as a High Lord’s son.

You helped her with her placement, chiding remarks that you remembered Cassian saying to you back at the House. You learned quickly, and it was easy enough to see what she was doing wrong. Two days were just spent in the mirror, Cassian showing you all the ways you made yourself vulnerable. You wondered if these females would ever be shown that. They hadn’t moved past the warm up exercises until earlier in the week when you joined. And Cassian mentioned they should have been training for the past month and a half. They should be far past your training level… or farther than they were. But they didn’t have a trainer that was willing to help them.

So, here you stood, sparring with Ragna. You saw the male, Calder, approach as you let her sweep your feet from under you. You asked her to do it, and wanted to show her the proper technique. “And now you just allowed your opponent a break from standing.” He mocked Ragna.

You glared up at him and stood up, shaking your wings so the dirt would fall off. “She gave herself an advantage.” You snapped. “And executed it perfectly, too.” You said, giving her a small smile before you examined the green Siphon Calder had on his hand. The one and only. Granted, there could be another one if it was exposed in his armor like Cass and Azriel. But it didn’t, Cass already told you the males that had two Siphons. And Calder wasn’t one of them.

“I don’t see how you could know with your back on the floor. Though that’s probably where you spend most of your time. Especially with that bastard that calls himself our Lord Commander.” He scoffed. You cleaned your fists and walked closer to him, your shadows shooting out from you to swirl around his arms in a frenzy. They wouldn’t restrain you from this male as they had done for Cassian.

“You might be careful how you speak about our Lord Commander.” You growled, restraining yourself from hitting him square in the face.

“Fond of the bastard?” He chided. You felt your nails dug into your skin. If he said one more thing…. “I bet you enjoy being in that cabin all alone with him. That’s why he’s allowing you to train. So he can have you with your legs spread-“

He didn’t finish the rest of the sentence. You knocked his jaw with your fist. Just how Cassian taught you to. He stumbled back from it. And then you had your shadows restrain him as he staggered forward, ready to repay the favor. “Speak one more word about it and you’ll find these shadows strangling your neck. And maybe snapping some bones too.” You ground out. Not that you even knew how to do that with your shadows. But Cassian’s told you about how Azriel’s done it before. If he ever bothered to train you, one day you would. For the time being, Calder didn’t know you couldn’t do it. But you’d bet your salary that he knew Azriel could. And that was enough for his eyes to widen.

You backed up, taking a deep breath before you let go of your shadows, watching them return to the comfort of your shoulders.

“Shadowsinger!” You heard a voice call. Not any voice, Devlon’s voice. “Out of the ring, now!”

You whipped your head, noting that he probably watched the entire encounter. You huffed and glared at Calder as you walked towards Delvon. “What?” You said, trying to bury that rage that burned in your chest.

“You know the punishment for laying a hand on your commander without him provoking you?” He asked, his arms crossed on his chest. The look you gave him was answer enough. “For a female, it’s two extra hours of chores.”

“I don’t have chores here. And he isn’t my commander.” You said simply, not taking your eyes off him.

“For males, it’s ten lashings.. which one would you prefer?” He ignored your statement, leaning against the fence of the ring.

“Who says he didn’t provoke me? Because he was insulting-“

“Insults are not provocations. Words are not provocations. Unless he hit you or it was a training exercise, it was without provocation.” He stated. “Lashings or chores?” He asked.

“Neither.” You replied with gritted teeth. He was starting to get on your nerves.

“You know, I wonder what your father would think when he finds out where his little girl ran away to. And a Shadowsinger, too… he’d be pleased to know where she was after all these years.” Devlon said, a small smirk sliding onto his face.

You bristled, not holding back the swallow that forced its way down your throat. The thought of your father knowing you were here terrified you. “He wouldn’t care,” you lied. Your father would be furious… Furious that you were still alive. That you made something of yourself without him.

Before Devlon could call you out for the lie, or for the fear that replaced the rage, Cassian landed beside you.

“What’s going on?” He asked.

“I hit Calder and Lord Devlon wants me to do chores because of it.” You answered.

“Or take the lashings. It’s whatever she chooses. Your High Lord is so enthralled to offer them a choice, so I’m letting her choose.” He said. Your High Lord. You didn’t miss the blow.

Cassian looked at you, and you looked up at him, a bucket of shame washing over you as you saw the disappointment in his eyes. He didn’t say anything as he grabbed your arm and dragged you out of the ring. “I’ll handle it.” He said simply and you stumbled after him. You yanked your arm from his hold when you were enough ways away from Devlon, almost to the cabin.

“What are you doing?” You asked, flaring out your wings for balance as he whirled on you.

“What am I doing? What are you doing? I told you to be nice. And you punched him? The one trainer that actually agreed to train the females and you punched him?” He asked, clearly holding in his anger. “Not to mention the stunt you pulled two days ago.” He said.

You almost snickered at the memory. You had your shadows help the females finish their morning chores and you took them out for training yourself. Devlon was furious when he saw you training with the practice weapons. And Cassian wasn’t too happy that you were trying to train them, considering you didn’t know how to use weapons or techniques properly. Let alone teach them.

But you held the snicker at the rage that bristled around him. “He was insulting you. He was calling you a bastard and insinuating that you were training me because I was sleeping with you-“

“I don’t care what he was saying.” He looked around, pulling you towards the cabin at a pace you had to run to keep up with. Once you made it inside, he asked, “Where is all this coming from? You haven’t even shown a drop to anger the past two months. And now it’s practically all I see from you here. What’s wrong?”

You faltered, catching your breath. You went to answer that nothing was wrong, but you stopped short when you sensed another male in the corner of the room. Not only smelled him but felt that familiar tug. The one that slightly decreased during your training here. He was hiding in his own Shadows. “Azriel,” you said, your eyes on him immediately.

Cassian whipped around. “Mother above… Az what are you doing here?” He asked.

“I heard how your introduction with Devlon went, and the incident the other day, and I figured you might be able to use my help.” He said.

“You never come here willingly. Did Rhys send you?” Cassian asked.

“No, I did come here of my own will. Only to help (Y/N).” He said. “My spies are doing their jobs. And I think I should indeed stop brooding in the shadows and help you train. And I won’t leave this time.” He said, only looking at you. Whatever resolve to ignore you seemed to have disappeared. And it didn’t help that bubbling anger inside of you.

“Fine, but you’re taking her to the mountains.” Cassian said.

You whipped your head to Cassian. “What?” You asked.

“You’ve got unbridled rage here for some reason. The better place to train will be away from it. And if Azriel trains you, you’ll need the space while learning about your shadows.” Cassian explained.

“This isn’t because I punched Calder, is it?” You asked.

Azriel stepped out of the shadows, and you saw his head shake as a small side smirk came to his lips. “You punched your commander?” He asked, something that mirrored pride washing over his face. It was gone in a blink.

“He isn’t my commander. And he was being a prick.” You snapped.

“Cassian used to beat his trainer to a pulp sometimes.” He teased. You hadn’t seen this side of him before.

“And I got the lashings because of it. Don’t encourage her. She isn’t helping us at all.” He said.

“No? Did she not just show Calder that she wasn’t going to take his bullshit? Any other male would have done the same thing. Even you.” He said to Cass.

“How do you know it was a fair shot?” You asked.

“My shadows got here long before I did.” Azriel said. “I hate this place, these camps. But that doesn’t mean I can’t watch from a distance.” He said.

“Go pack, you’ll leave when you’re done.” Cassian said, obviously having enough, and nodded towards your room.

“I-“

“Go.” He said. “You’ll be gone for 4 days.”

You held back the urge to roll your eyes and walked up the stairs to pack a bag for the journey. And you vaguely heard them talking about the route and where you would go. You didn’t bother to ask your shadows to listen. You would learn what you needed to soon enough.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the double release! Something special is in store for the next chapter!

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