Just Binge Read What In A Virtue Help, I Am Not Normal About How You Write This Man

oh my godddd I just BINGED your entire Gaz series and I s2g you have me chewing drywall. you write him so GOOD and Reader is so cute and your writing style is so!!! you WORK this prose, you put the work in baby and it shows!!!

love a Gaz who is so polite and smart and witty and a little unhinged...... (love your Soap too, btw, like let me sew you up some more bb)

honestly so glad I happened to stumble upon this novella of yours literally two hours ago with all parts complete, because if I'd had to wait for updates I would've gone feral. brooooo ilu ilu ilu

okay I'm honestly so happy about this message because!!!! you're the first to comment about how my writing changes near the end of the fic and I'm so thankful for that bc i keep trying to make this change to get better by using other people's work as inspo so tysm for this comment🥹💜

people's work i used as inspo for this (who btw have writing that is much more consistently beautiful and who i will always look up to):

@ceilidho for her bear shifter price au

AND

@boneblushed for her second-chance rafe fic

if there's anyone to thank for having this fic fully formed in ten days instead of on hiatus indefinitely it's these two. Their work inspired me to write better---and to finish that final part off with a bang.

nonetheless anon I am so glad u enjoyed my stories!! thank you for taking the time to comment on my work ilu u r so sweet and i hope u have the best day🥰

My masterlist is almost maxed out

Just wanted to write some Zuko smut tonight but now I gotta deal with that shit😤😤

(this is gon be a long one sry!!) but could i get a mako (lok) x fem hybrid reader where she is a hybrid of a human and a dragon (n she’s a airbender) n her kind has brought despair to most people in the past so they treat her like she’s unwanted but lin basically takes her in as her child then she gets like hurt really badly in battle,, sry if it’s confusing or anything!! i thought of this at like 2am so sry if it’s stupid

Mako with Dragon!Hybrid Airbender Reader (Legend of Korra Headcanons)

*GIF not mine* 

A/N: Honestly, this is one of the best things I’ve ever written. Thank you so much for requesting it, as it made me feel a lot more confident in my abilities. This idea was great, so don’t feel bad about it! I made it headcanons, but it turned into a scenario anyway, so I hope you enjoy! (Side note: Thanks for 1.5k followers!)

Word count: 2485

As a hybrid, you were used to the abuse. Abandoned on your streets by horrified parents, you knew how it felt to be abandoned and alone, hated for no reason. The horrible things your ancestors did somehow reflected onto you as you tried to live in the streets of Republic City.

Fighting for food or territory on the streets was always hard; people would take one look at you, see the telltale shifting eyes of a dragon hybrid, and scream at you till you ran for the hills. On your back was only your stolen airbending staff and your ability to shapeshift to keep you alive.

It was on a cold winter night that Lin found you at the age of fourteen, shivering and half-dead, with your eyes shifting rapidly with a plea to change forms to survive. You refused, and barely conscious, you had no will to fight when the Chief of Police led you back to her own home. 

From then on, it was like you had a mother again. Though she was hardened to most emotions and rarely ever provided a true warmth, she loved you in her own way. There were times when she would scold you to tears, only to come home later with a small charm or treat as an apology. 

She taught you how to use your abilities as best as she could, scouring up airbending scrolls and researching books in the city’s library to learn more about your kind. Lin was eager to be a mother, no matter how much she would deny it in front of others. Deep down, she wanted to make up for her own mother’s mistakes, and in doing so, she became fiercely protective over you. Boys, school, even the occasional social interaction kept Lin on the tips of her toes, wanting to keep you safe but also wanting you to become a strong young woman. 

It was four years later that you met Mako, and he was almost as aloof as Lin. Every time he saw you, he would either greet you formally with a head nod or completely ignore your existence. 

You spent your pastime at the police station, reading through cases or reorganizing files, doing whatever you could get your hands on really. In these times, that’s when Mako would watch you from the corner of his eye. Your eyes would flutter and gleam with excitement as you read through criminals’ stories, and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t adorable. 

In the pit of his chest, he felt an urge to talk to you, get to know you better. So greetings turned into personal questions. Questions turned into lunchtime conversations. Lunchtime conversations turned into dates, and dates turned into a relationship. 

As the first guy you had ever really talked to, you were kind of nervous around him. Blushes and anxious glances weren’t uncommon on your end, but Mako loved to see them. 

One day, he returned from a particularly dangerous mission and stomped into the station looking like a mess. His hair was ruffled, his uniform was covered in dirt and dust, and his eyes were darting around in a frantic manner. It was only when they landed on you that you figured out what he was looking for. Not saying a word, he marched towards you and cupped your face in his hands. Your mouth opened in question, but before you could speak, he pressed his lips to yours in a passionate, desperate first kiss. 

Though Lin wasn’t particularly pleased about the two of you, she had grown to admire how protective Mako was of you. Him being a skilled firebender only helped her feel more reassured. You, meanwhile, had grown tired of their coddling. 

Both of them treated you like a baby bird that had fallen out of the nest. Whenever someone threw you dirty glances in the street, both of them had a nasty habit of glaring and sneering. Mako is never averse to throwing a ball of fire at someone who is particularly troubling. 

“I can handle myself.”

“I know, I know.”

But did they?

You wanted to prove yourself. Show that as a trained airbender who had fought for her life tooth and nail on the streets, you could handle taking care of yourself when it mattered. So one night, you joined them on a mission. 

“You’re not coming.”

“The hell I’m not! I can take care of myself-- I’m not a little girl anymore!”

Mako kept silent as you argued with Lin, but his teeth gritted at the thought of you being in harm’s way. If you were coming, there was no way in hell he was going to let something happen to you. 

“Fine. You can come. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Your eyes widened and you turned to your boyfriend with a victorious grin, only for it to falter at the sight of him avoiding your gaze and leaving the room. 

You wanted to ask, but deep down you already knew what he would say. Yes, you loved that he cared so much for you and your safety, but you really didn’t want Debby Downer to ruin your excitement for your first mission. After Lin’s reluctant acceptance, Mako avoided you like the plague, only acknowledging your existence with an outstretched hand behind him as you and the rest of the squad of police snuck up to the criminal activity. 

It was a gang, and one you had learned of quite a bit during your adolescent years in the cold city. They were benders trying to overthrow the government, starting first with robbing small homes and moving up to threatening local businesses with a “safety tax.”

“I can do this, I can do this, I can do this,” you breathed out, practically buzzing with excitement behind a frustrated Mako. In the sunlight of what was only twelve noon, you could see the tension between his shoulders so much that it urged you to lodge a stick between the blades. You didn’t, but God did you want to. 

“Get down!”

Your squadron had been spotted, peering out from behind an alley wall and peeking in on what was the gang’s main leaders divvying up their most recent haul.

Fire almost singed your skin before Mako tugged you to the ground, forcing your head against the pavement while he shot back his own flames. Lin, who had been at the front of the squad, had charged into the thick of it, arms raised and ready to fight. 

There were about fifteen enemies in all, and with your group of ten soldiers-- excluding you-- Mako felt like they could take them. 

Without warning, he rose to his feet and dashed into the fight breaking out in the intersection between four lines of buildings. The scent of blood and smoke hit you like a wave of nausea as soon as you lifted your head and scrambled to your feet. 

C’mon, YN, it’s your chance! Let’s do this!

Running into the battle was like diving into a murky pool headfirst. You should have known the water would be shallow. 

The pavement beneath your feet rumbles and lifts, taking you and your yelp along with it. Just before it crashes into the nearest building, you tap your staff once and take flight, soaring through the air while searching for the nearest predator. 

A man that seemed ten times larger than you blasted a line of fire right towards your form, but you blew it right back into his face with a laugh. 

“Haha, how’d you like that!”

When your feet hit the ground, you jumped into action. A man-- a waterbender according to the sliver of ice that almost impaled your stomach-- came at you first. You twisted your hands and twirled your staff just enough that a gush of wind pushed him back into an alley dumpster, knocking him unconscious at the slightest contact. 

“Damn, I’m good! Can anyone explain why I’m so good?” You beamed, jabbing the butt end of your wooden staff into another mobster that tried to sneak up behind you. He toppled into his friend like dominoes, and just when you pounced over to land the final blow-- oh.

Ouchie

A white, hot bubble of pain burst in your chest, forcing you to let out a bloodcurdling scream. Your eyes flickered, narrowing and widening uncontrollably. No, not here!

“Dirty hybrid piece of shit! Go back to hell where you belong!”

Evidently, this gang member had done his research. As a shifter, there was a little nick right along your spine, just below where your wings would grow, that was almost like a failsafe. This man had bullseyed it like no other. 

Your nervous system tingled enough to leave you paralyzed, dropping to the floor like dead weight and twitching face-first in your own puddle of pain. The only things you could do now were blink and whimper, but you cried out brokenly when he dug the pick of ice deeper into your back. 

“YNNN!”

The infuriated roar of your name almost distracted you from the liquid seeping out and painting the concrete a deep red. A wave of heat, so quick and harsh it blew the hair stuck to the back of your neck away and up into your face. 

Groans and screams of pain accompanied what could only have been the sounds of people being burned alive. A mewl of fright left your mouth at the sight of a charred body collapsing right across from your turned head. From the smell of it, that man was a little past well-done.

“YN!” Hands patted your face and felt down your body before their owner grunted at the feeling of cooling blood. “YN! Can you breathe? Please, say something!”

Mako’s face appeared in your blurring vision as he pressed two fingers in your neck, feeling the panic-stricken pulse. 

“LIN, GET HELP! CALL SOMEONE!”

The shout was so loud, so cracked up with fear that it was almost painful to listen to. 

Mako’s thumb then rubbed your cheek in what he must’ve thought was a comforting manner. Instead, you only cringed at the feeling of his uncontrolled body temperature making your forehead break a sweat. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” he cooed, but his orange eyes betrayed the words. It’s not that he thought they were wrong, it’s that he hated only getting to hope they were right. 

“Mako,” you whispered, disgusted at the mindless drool that pooled out after. 

“Shh, YN, you’re gonna be okay. I’m not losing you.”

“Mako,” you pressed, as loud as you could muster with your face weighed down against the scraping concrete. “I love you, okay?”

“No, YN, don’t say it like that.” You understood how he felt. With the way you said it, it sounded more like a goodbye than a confession. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Then the darkness consumed you.

~~~ (oops, this turned into a scenario)

Not-so-silent whispers tugged you out of your sleep like a fish on a hook. The first thing you felt was nothing. 

It’s true. Your body was numb from all feeling, even as you blindly waggled your toes and fingers. Then you opened your eyes and hissed at the blinding light that always accompanied a hospital room. 

Tingles, pricks like sharp nails filled your limbs as you moved them more and more, and when you turned your head to find the source of the whispers, you found another pressed against the cushion of your stiff bed. 

Mako was sound asleep, the idea given away by the steady inhales and exhales that forced their ways through the tissue-like material of your mattress every few seconds. And just when your fingers prickled too, you noticed his hand was up on the bed and was grasping yours tightly. 

You didn’t care enough to search through your surroundings for more; instead, you settled for smiling and reaching your other hand over to dip into his dark hair. 

A sudden rip of pain spread through your back at the movement, and you couldn’t hold back the yelp that came along for the ride. Without another word, Mako was up at attention, sitting with a straight back in his chair as his other hand slammed down on the bed. Two more bodies appeared on your other side, one of which being Lin. 

“YN, are you okay?!” 

“You’re never doing that again!”

Mako’s concerned face and Lin’s stern but worried one both added to the growing headache that pierced right through your temples. 

“Ugh, I’m fine, I’m fine. Just gimme some space, you guys.”

Neither seemed too eager to please, as they both stayed tight exactly where they were. 

“YN,” a gentler, calmer tone caught your eye, and a doctor just about Lin’s age gave you a pleasant smile, “how are you feeling?”

Where Lin’s skin was smooth and unmarked, the doctor’s was creased with years of practiced smiles and reassuring looks. 

“Just about as good as a sack of shit. Do I look as pretty as I feel?”

With a patient chuckle, the doctor dismissed the question and hopped right into things. Daily rewraps around the wound, combined with a bullet-biting pinch of disinfectant every twelve hours and Republic City’s newest horse pills, more bitter than the smell of dried sweat that hung in the air. 

The doctor encouraged Lin to follow him for the treatments, and after a kiss to your forehead and a little head pat, she did as much. When the door clicked shut after her was when Mako pounced. 

“Don’t scare me like that, YN. I thought I lost you.”

His arms were folded in an attempted scolding, but the slight tremble of his lower lip broke down the facade. 

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” you snorted, reaching for his hand and trying not to tear your stitches. He did as you wanted and let you encourage him closer with a small tug. 

“Good,” he whispers, leaning down and cupping your cheek with the other hand. You lean into the hold, relishing in the comfort it provides. 

“Shit, Mako, why can’t you be colder? My skin feels like it’s on fire.”

“I thought hybrids like heat?”

“Yeah, well not this hot!” 

“But isn’t that what you like about me?” 

You smack his arm and he lets out a chuckle, leaning closer only to brush his lips against yours. 

“Cocky bastard,” you jab before pulling him into a real kiss.

Please work on a pt. 2 to the Luna Hunt or a series in general its so good I beg off u. I would love to see where things go with them and her father and the new queen and king

ahhhhh yeah the whole father storyline like i dont even know where to go with that

hate it when my reader's flimsy purpose to escape comes back to bite me in the booty like ouch now i gotta work with that plot strand. luna hunt is def the most requested for a second part and i swear i hear u i just haven't read this genre in so long i dont even know where to start.

scratch that, i know exactly hwere to start, i just dont know where to go after that. we'll see maybe one day ill think of smth

Hi, part six of reborn was awsome. Any idea when part seven will come out?

Tee hee SO

It’s looking like I’ll (write and) post the next part sometime before Monday. Obviously, that’s when school starts again, so there won’t be another chapter after that for a while🙃

BUT this chapter is planned to “wrap up” a portion of the story. More parts will come after of course, but there’s always the option of straight up stopping right at that point.

I have no idea exactly when part 7 is coming out; it all just depends on when the inspo to write hits👉👈😐

AND I promise I won’t leave y’all on a cliffhanger for the next three or four months

...maybe😏

hey! are all requests open or just some? i just want to make sure before i send in something :))

All requests are open, go nuts!

Hehe someone allowed me to write smut🥵😏😏

Tell me why I’m so excited to write this now🤦‍♀️

Like a goddamn child with a cookie jar

Gray Chains (Yandere Michael Gray x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Michael needs to see you. It’s been three days after being shot by Luca Changretta’s men, and he knows you need to see him too--especially since you’re chained up against his headboard for trying to escape from him too many times. 

A/N: I mean gotta admit I’m in a yandere Michael Gray kinda mood, and there’s only like two fics of that out there :( Gotta do whatcha gotta do ig. Enjoy!

Word count: 3068

        Polly’s grip on your wrist is so tight you can barely feel the tips of your bluing fingers. You’re used to such pain, though; underneath her hand are more permanent, more reddened markings from the handcuffs you had been wearing before Polly had found you.

        “We’re almost there,” she mumbled under her breath, head snapping back and forth every few minutes to search each room you passed. Your feet and calves ached from the pace she had set for the two of you, quick and impatient ever since you’d stepped out of Michael’s townhouse. You hadn’t moved this far, this fast for months. 

        Not since you first tried to escape Michael. 

        Even now, you couldn’t breathe. Every gasp of air was caught in your throat, choking you slowly while tasting of antiseptic. A sort of panic-stricken excitement ran through your body from being outside the gray walls of Michael’s home for the first time in who knew how long. 

        Just hours ago that was where you had been, one hand secured in a metal cuff that only reached as far as the bathroom, the other end of which was placed around Michael’s headboard. 

        You knew something had gone awry when Michael hadn’t returned home to deliver you your usual meal every six hours for a straight three days; when he hadn’t shyly knocked on the door to his own bedroom, a tray of homemade cooking in his hands and an innocent smile on his face; “I made you something, love.”

        Three straight days. Your stomach rumbled as a reminder even now. 

        “Speed up now, won’t you,” Polly ordered, still frantically pushing the pair of you past marble hallways filled with nurses and patients roaming. “The room is up here.”

        You’d given up asking what had happened to Michael. Polly was unresponsive to your every question, too focused on lugging you behind her to say anything else but “He’s been asking for you.”

        When you had first heard the door unlock to Michael’s house this morning, you had thought it was him. “Where the hell have you been?” you’d called, a disturbing hint of relief in your frustrated tone. If he was going to lock you up like an animal, you’d thought to yourself, he should at least have planned for times like this where he doesn’t show up for days. 

        But the second you heard the footsteps up the stairs sound lighter than normal, you sat up at attention in the bed, eyes locked on the doorway. Who…?

        Polly. Polly who had almost been hanged, who was now addicted to pills and thought she could see spirits, who was a strong, capable woman that defended others and cared deeply for her family. This was how Michael described his mother to you. He’d wanted you to meet her so badly, but only when you were ready--complaisant was what he really meant. 

        “You must be YN,” she’d said breathlessly, pausing only a second to study your situation. 

        You swallowed, unmoving from your spot on the bed. “Yes.” She was the first person you’d seen for so long aside from Michael. 

        Then she produced a key from the pocket of her coat and approached you swiftly. 

        “Yes, yes--please,” you held up your cuffed hand before her, eyes watering with relief, “please, you must get me out of here. He’s kept me here so long.” Finally, someone had come to save you, you thought. You were leaving this place forever.

        When that small voice in the back of your mind whispered, “What about Michael?” you ignored it.

        The metal chains had hit the floor with soft clangs, and she’d pocketed the key once again. You remembered rubbing a hand over the sore skin of your wrist, eyes wide with wonderment at the sight of your hand unaccompanied by gray metal. 

        Then Polly’s hand replaced your own, tight and unforgiving as she tugged at your arm. “Come along now,” she ushered you out of the house, you willingly following her like a ragdoll. “He wants to see you.”

        “What?” That’s not what you had expected her to say. 

        “He’s been asking for you.”

        You never bothered to ask who. After all, you should have never thought Michael’s mother had come to save you. 

        Gangsters, you told yourself. Criminal scum, the lot of them. You should have never taken a walk down the streets of Birmingham, and you should have never smiled at Michael Gray. 

        “They’re asleep, fuckin’ lazy scumbags,” Polly spat, slowing her pace when she caught sight of one of the larger hospital rooms. She didn’t let up on your wrist but instead pushed you into the room first before following.

        Michael. 

        What happened to him?

        Half of his upper body was wrapped in white surgical tape, while the other half was blanched enough to rival the tape’s color. His eyes were closed, puffy and rimmed with dark circles that hung over prominent cheekbones like upended crescent moons. His pale, chapped lips were held in a thin line that twitched at the new, noisier presences in the room.

        A shiver traveled down your spine at the sight of him in such a way, and suddenly your hands trembled at your sides. You couldn’t feel the pain in your wrist anymore. 

        “On your feet,” you heard behind you. A few moments, and some rustling. “Wait outside.”

        The door clicked behind you, then it clicked again. Locked. Polly came up from behind you a second later, ignoring your presence completely as she set two flasks of alcohol on the table of Michael’s hospital bed before pulling up a chair beside him. 

        Tugging off her coat, she moved to lay it over Michael’s legs until he spoke. 

        “Mum,” he mumbled blindly, his voice raw and strained from lack of use. 

        “Michael,” Polly cooed then, leaning in closer over him to dab his face with a rag. He was so broken that moving his lips to talk was strenuous enough to break a sweat. Even his fingers twitched slowly, weakly. You’d never seen him so frail and battered.

        Your heart stuttered in an unsettling way. 

        “Is she-”

        “Don’t move.” She soaked up the perspiration on his brow next, humming warningly. “You took four bullets.”

        “But-”

        “She’s here--the girl. I brought her like you asked.” Polly didn’t spare you a glance, not that you noticed. You were frozen in place, gaze still wandering over each wrap on his body. One, two, three, four bullets. He’s still alive. He’s still alive. 

        “YN,” he murmured, eyes opening a sliver. “YN. You’re here.” 

        You took a step toward him instinctively, hand raising from your side, before realizing your mistake and steadying yourself in place. 

        A smile tugged at his lips, paining him somewhat but not stopping him. He moved to sit up, to reach out for you as well, but a groan forced its way from him when he tried. With furrowed brows, he sucked a breath through his teeth and clenched his eyes shut. 

        Polly inhaled all the meanwhile, hovering her hands over his form to stop him from moving any more. “What did I tell you? Lie back.”

        “YN, please, come closer, love.”

        Polly turned her gaze towards you, accusatory. “Come!” she ordered, gesturing with her head to Michael’s other side. Her gaze fell back on him again when you drew closer to the bed, and her hard face softened. 

        Even with eyes struggling to stay open, Michael’s stare was adoring upon you. Like always, he stared at you as though you’d hung the moon and stars in the sky. You’d been under that loving, worshiping gaze for months now. Even now, it placed such a heavy weight on your chest that you found yourself stumbling closer, only flinching away when your fingertips made contact with his arm. 

        He drew you in like a moth to a flame ever since you first met. Only after he’d locked you up in his house did your feelings for him leave a disgusting taste on your tongue. 

        You stayed a few inches apart from him, ignoring how his hand struggled at his side to reach for you. 

        “Love, please. I want to feel you. I need to know you’re really here.”

        Two pairs of eyes were on you then. Polly’s glared like a coiled snake, and Michael’s pleaded like a puppy dog.

        You edged closer, letting your hand drop on top of his. Quickly, Michael maneuvered your fingers to interlock with his, and he sighed in relief. You forced your attention away from the warmth spreading in the center of your chest and onto Polly, who dug through her bag. 

        “I’ve missed you so much, love.” His thumb ran over your knuckles. “I was so afraid I’d never get to see you again. I was so scared I was never going to hold you again.”

        His words wrapped around you like a weighted blanket, heavy and overbearing yet warm and comforting. You wanted to throw up.

        “Michael,” Polly gathered his attention somehow, pulling his face toward hers as she laid out a pamphlet on his bedside. Australia, it read. “Please listen. John’s dead, and this whole town’s fucked. We need to get out of here.”

        “No,” he grunted, hand squeezing yours.

        She rolled her eyes. “You can take the girl. Just listen--there’s no mafia, no fucking American gangsters in Australia. Now, the doctor said you can walk in five weeks, and the boat leaves February thirteenth. That gives us plenty of time.”

        Five weeks. You glanced at Michael’s form, practically curling in on itself in pain. It was only held together by stitches and strips of cloth. He wouldn’t be out of the hospital for months, even if he could walk. 

        “We’re not going anywhere, Mum.”

        But you could. How could he possibly come after you, stuck here like a mummified corpse with four bullet holes in it. Without him to lock you up in his house, to tie you down and feed you and hold you, you could escape him easily. You would never have to see Michael again. 

        Your stomach growled, drawing Michael’s attention. His face fell into despair at the sound, and his eyes fluttered closed in regret. “YN, fuck, I’m so sorry. I never thought something like this would happen.”

        “Michael, please,” Polly begged, “we must go there and see your sister.”

        “Mum, later.” He looked back at you, face riddled with guilt. “Love, I’m sorry you were alone for so long.”

        “Michael-”

        “Mum!” His head snapped back to her, frustration barely concealed in his tone. “Please. Just go call Tommy and tell him to bring me a gun for the room. Business needs to be done first before we take any trips.”

        “Michael, it’s not safe. Not if we stay here. Tommy cannot protect us.”

        “Not if you don’t help him, Mum. Please,” he lay his other hand over the pamphlet, pursing his lips before pressing it closed once more in her grasp, “help Tommy first. Help the company first, then I promise we’ll board that train to Australia to go see Anna.”

        Tears began trailing down Polly’s face, and you glanced away out of courtesy. Michael was so different with his mother than he was with you. Around you, he treated you like you could do no wrong. Like you were the perfect woman, the perfect wife. Sometimes he held you as though you were made of glass, and other times he almost broke your ribs in his tight embraces. He’d whisper to you at night about how you were his greatest achievement, his greatest gift. 

        With his mother, now, he treated her as though she were a five-year-old in need of constant supervision and direction. Michael had vaguely told you about the situation with his mother, how he’d only first met her a couple years ago, but never much more than that. You had a feeling that if the Polly in front of you now were in any better shape, that same Polly that so clearly wanted you to act like a better girlfriend to her son and had dragged you down streets and through alleys just for him, then she would never give Michael’s orders a second thought. 

        Polly nodded, wiping at her tear-stained cheeks with gloved hands with a willing, yet trembling, smile. “Fine.” She rose to her feet, grasping her purse off the nightstand and shoving the pamphlet inside. “Fine. I’ll go see Tommy.”

        She moved to leave, snatching the two flasks off the table in the meantime, before she seemed to remember something. She turned back to Michael again, and her gaze flitted to yours once. 

        “The girl. I saw the state she was in, Michael.”

        He tensed, and as a result your hand twinged in pain. 

        “Do you want me to take her back to the house?”

        All of the tension left Michael’s body in a single sigh, and he shook his head once. “No,” he smiled softly, “I want YN to stay with me here.”

        She nodded slowly, eyes falling on you one final time before she disappeared out the door. When it clicked shut, Michael’s gaze latched onto you, half-lidded, exhausted, but still very much attentive to you.

        “You will, won’t you? Stay with me here, I mean?”

        Silence fell over the room. You stared down at the man who just days ago had towered over you on his own bed, hands and lips all over you, owning you. 

        “You know why I do this, love, don’t you?” he’d always say, lips running over the raw skin of your wrist, free of the cuff whenever he was present. “It’s because I need you.” Another kiss. “I will always need you.”

        Then you twisted your hand from his grasp, backing away from the bed with flared nostrils. “I,” you shook your head, “I don’t know.”

        “No, no, love, please, don’t do this to me.” Michael grunted and groaned as he fumbled against the sheets, body fighting against his urge to move. His arms raised slowly and weakly from his sides as if each had been strapped down with weights. When he reached out for you, the sweat on his wrinkled brow glistened in the sunlight. 

        “Don’t, please. I love you so much, love, don’t do this to me.”

        You wanted to argue with logic. You wanted to twist his words and say, well how could you do that to me for all that time, huh? How could you tell me you love me every day, knowing that the only reason I have to listen to you is because of the prison walls around me? If you really loved me, how could you do that to me?

        But you didn’t because--it seemed--he’d finally got what he’d wanted. Oh how you missed the days where he’d begged and pleaded with you to love him and understand him, and how you missed those times where you said you didn’t and that you hated him. And you missed when those words were the truth, because it meant he hadn’t beaten you into submission. 

        Yet.

        But he was winning, wasn’t he now?

        As he breathed faster and perspired harder and called your name louder, you rounded the bed, still just out of his grasp, before settling down into Polly’s former seat. 

        Right then, he quieted himself like a sated child sucking on a pacifier. 

        “Fine, then.” You spat, more angry at yourself than you could ever be at him--because look what you’d allowed him to do to you. “Fine, you fucking win.”

        He remained silent.

        “I’ll stay here with you. And five weeks from now, I’ll still fucking be here, helping you stand up and walk around. And then soon after we’ll go to fucking Australia with your mother. And then after that I’ll fucking follow you there too, won’t I?” You were disgusted with yourself, with the feelings he’d force-fed into you until they were all you wanted. 

        Then you grabbed his hand, still reaching for you from the side of the hospital bed, and intertwined your fingers. Perfect, you’d thought, a perfect fucking fit. 

        Michael pulled the pair of hands up to his lips, kissing along your knuckles and smiling all the while. “Thank you, love.” His lips trailed up your arm. “Thank you.” Kiss. “Thank you.” Kiss. “Thank you.” Kiss.

        He tugged you closer and closer still, waiting until you leant over him enough to pull your lips onto his. 

        You had lost this battle against your own feelings long before Polly had dragged you out of the house, you realized. It was long before the day he’d first missed his meal with you, and you knew it because instead of wondering if you were going to be fed by your captor, you wondered if the man you loved was ever going to come home to you again. 

        You also knew it when his lips separated from yours for a breath, and he wasn’t the only one who had chased for a second chance at the kiss. 

        “Stay with me always, love,” he mumbled against your lips. “I need you. I’ll always fucking need you.”

        “I know,” you leaned your forehead against his, running your fingertips over his lips, his cheek, his hair. 

        “I won’t ever leave you again, love. I promise.” His hands cupped your face, holding you in place just an inch away so you could feel his words on your lips. “I won’t ever let anyone take me away from you.”

        “I’ll hold you to that,” you murmured, tearing your gaze away from his to stare down at the tape lacing his battered form. You hovered a hand over the strips, wondering where each of the four bullet holes was. 

        “And nobody will take you from me,” he tapped your chin, pulling your attention back to his face, “right, love?”

        “Never, Michael.” You shook your head, nose brushing his. “Never.”

        “That’s right,” he hummed under his breath. “Never.”

Part 2

Uh, hey! Could I request yandere Shigaraki, Bakugou and Kaminari trying to get their darling a dog but it backfires cuz their darling is terrified of dogs? Thanks in advance :)

He Gets You a Dog but You’re Afraid of Dogs (Yandere BNHA Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: This is literally the first post I’ve ever made on the road. Y’all, I gotta be honest, I’ve been down in the dumps for the past couple days, so I’m sorry if my mood has been reflected through my stories. Nonetheless, I really hope you all like this one! (Btw, love this request!)

Word count: 2098

Shigaraki Tomura:

Shigaraki notices right away that you weren’t your usual self. Before he ambushed you and took you captive, you were always happy-go-lucky and would smile like no tomorrow.

Somewhere along the line, though, you had changed. Maybe it was that he kept you chained to the bed 24/7. Or maybe it was that you only got to see the sunlight once every two weeks. But surely it wasn’t that he forced you to give him a hug and a kiss every time he entered your room.

No. You loved that tradition just as much as he did.

So maybe it was because you were lonely. Shigaraki noticed that he had to leave you alone more often than he wanted to because of League business, but he also knew that their lair wasn’t exactly a lovely setup.

The TV in his room never brought back the light in your eyes. Nor did the loaded bookshelves. No radios or music or anything made you as enlivened as you were.

But then an idea struck him.

Humans were social creatures, and the only person you communicated with was him. No, of course he wasn’t going to let you talk to another person, that would drive him insane. But Shigaraki knew animal companionship would be just as good.

The adoption center emptied out at the sight of a man covered in disembodied hands, so thank goodness Shigaraki didn’t have to fight over other people for the puppy of his choosing.

A german shepherd was his choice. Obviously a reject because of its older age, the dog was fully grown and was over a third of Shigaraki’s height. It was a trainable beast that would be adorable in your eyes. The perfect option for both of you.

The dog didn’t resist being picked up and dropped out of the pen. Shigaraki snagged a leash off a shelf on his way out, and soon they were both on their way.

Back in the villain’s lair, the others threw him weird looks but kept their mouths sewn shut. They all knew about you, the poor girl locked up in his bedroom like a playtoy, but they weren’t stupid enough to go against Shigaraki.

He didn’t bother to knock on the door. Instead, he barged in and sniggered at the sight of you, passed out and snoring in his bed. The shirt you wore to bed last night was his, and he licked his lips at the sight of it barely covering your upper thighs.

A delicious surprise.

Shaking his head out of his thoughts, Shigaraki picks up his dog and lugs it over to you.

“YNNNN. Wake uppppp.”

You grumbled in resistance, but your eyelids fluttered open anyways.

“Mmm, Tomura? What’s…” you trail off in a yawn and rub the sleep away from your eyes, trying to figure out if the sight before you was real.

You didn’t need sight to know; the german shepherd panted and licked your face before you even got a good look at it.

“OH SHIT!” you cried out, rolling to the other side of the bed before falling to the floor and crawling to the corner of the room.

Shigaraki watches your movements with raised brows, then his mind rattles at the sight of you tearing up and shivering in the corner.

“G-Get the dog out of here!” You point with a shaky finger. “...please?”

He’s still frozen in shock, eyes locked on where you had previously sat before he hears you whimper. This prods him to jump into action.

Hastily, he leads the dog out into the hallway and lets it run loose, all before coming back inside and closing the door.

“Better?”

“Better,” you nod, forcing yourself to give him a smile. Shigaraki sighs and makes his way over to you, plopping himself down on the floor so he can see your face.

“So… dogs huh?”

“Yeah. I’m not really their biggest fan.” The villain nods solemnly.

“... so we can’t keep him?”

Part of you is surprised that he even asked, but the other part of you is screaming to take it and run.

“No, please.” He purses his lips and glances at the door.

“All right,” you flinch at the feeling of his hand cupping your cheek. “I’ll get rid of him.” There’s a dangerous glint in his eye.

“But you owe me, darling.”

Bakugou Katsuki:

As much as he hated to admit it, Bakugou knew you weren’t really happy.

Trapped and locked away in the house day-in day-out was wearing on you. Though you hadn’t lost your fire, you still weren’t joyful like he had been used to back in UA.

After kidnapping you the minute you both graduated, he kept you held up in his new house where nobody could take you away. But he hated to see you so unhappy.

So he decided to get you a dog. Oops.

“YN, come down here.” He dragged in a dog that was perfect for both of you. It was a pitbull, a vicious little thing that was still gnawing on the leash when it entered the house.

“What do you want, dickhead?” You sniggered. Pissing off Bakugou was usually the highlight of your day, since you had learned early on that his threats of hurting you or punishing you for pushing his buttons were all empty.

You made your way down the stairs, narrowed eyes darting around then locking on the front door where Bakugou stood with- oh fuck.

“You’re welcom-”

“AASJSHFHS!” You choked on your own spit and darted back up the stairs, tripping half way and crawling up the rest like a panicked seal.

The smirk on Bakugou’s face fell in an instant as his mind went blank.

What just…

Then his brows furrowed as he glanced down at the dog, who, by now, was sitting perfectly still at his side with a tilted head. It let out a whimper and Bakugou nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, you and me both buddy.”

Thankfully, Mr. Sunshine isn’t dim enough to take the dog with him upstairs to confront you; instead, he ties its leash to the stair railing before making his way up.

“YN?” He knocks on the bedroom door. In the beginning, he thought it was almost cute of you to think that you would get to sleep alone. He was glad how quickly you adjusted to sleeping in his arms.

“FUCK YOU!” you cry out, voice cracking and trembling. You were crying.

Bakugou grows angry at your implication. He wasn’t trying to scare you!

“HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW YOU DON’T LIKE DOGS?!”

He barges through the door and finds you hugging your knees to your chest on his bed. You’re huddled against the headboard, and even Bakugou can see from the entryway that you were trembling.

Another yell dies on his tongue when he spots a tear slipping down your cheek. His heart stutters at the complete, unrestrained fear in your eyes.

Adam’s apple bobbing, he makes his way over to you and sits down on the mattress, laying an apologetic hand on your kneecap.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were afraid.”

“It’s okay.” It damn better be.

A thumb of his wipes away a stray tear on your cheek and his body grows warm at the contact. He wasn’t much for loving communication, but God did he love touching you.

“I’ll bring it back to the pound right now.”

You nod in thanks and purse your lips as he rises. Suddenly, a hand of yours darts out to grab his. He turns back to you with a raised brow.

“I’m sorry, Katsuki. I know you might’ve really liked it.” His teeth grit at your ignorance.

“The only thing I care about is you, dumbass. Don’t forget that.”

Kaminari Denki:

Kaminari knew you were growing lonely.

This guy has an entire list of your habits, and he was almost positive talking to yourself wasn’t one of them. Safe to say, he was a tad concerned.

He had passed by your bedroom and heard you jabbering on about whether hot dogs were tacos or sandwiches.

To be fair, he thought it was a valid argument at first, but after listening to you for twenty minutes straight, he knew there was something wrong.

Kaminari loves you dearly, and though he’s not sure if you feel the same, he’s certainly desperate to try. Though you resented him for kidnapping you from your own home, he knew there was one thing in the world that would break down your walls-- one thing no human could resist.

It wasn’t a big dog, no. It was a little golden retriever puppy that jumped and yelped at Kaminari’s side as they walked home.

“She’s gonna love you so much buddy!” he grinned, patting the puppy on the head. “She’s gonna love both of us now!”

Opening the door to the house, Kaminari searched for you before sneaking the dog inside. Then he called out your name in a sing-songy tone.

“YNNNNNN, guess what I got you!” He can’t keep the excitement off his face as he hears you slip out of your bedroom and make your way down the stairs.

“What do you-...” You cut yourself off, watching him warily as you see movement behind him. There’s something… small, barely visible between the blond’s legs but you can tell you’re not gonna like it either way.

“Surprise!” he shouts, picking up the golden retriever and holding it out to you.

Yeah, sure. Doggy pictures online were adorable to look at, but face-to-face, there was always a chance that it would BITE YOUR FACE OFF!

Not even a second after seeing it, you open your mouth and let out a noise suspiciously akin to that of a parrot’s squawk before tearing cheek down the nearest hallway.

Kaminari just watches this go down, the smile slowly falling from his face. Both him and the dog jump at the sound of the door slamming.

They glance at each other before Kaminari shrugs. “Guess she doesn’t like you.”

The dog growls.

Meanwhile, you are huddled up in the downstairs bathroom of Kaminari’s house, trembling in fear and curling up in the bathtub. The curtains are hastily drawn to disguise yourself and seamlessly blend in with the environment.

The only thing that breaks your genius cover is the squeak you let out when the door opens.

“YN?”

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

That was an excellent question. What did he do?

“...I’m sorry?”

He covers his ears and expects another yell, but all he gets is a small whimper.

“YN?” Kaminari is hesitant to approach you, but he closes the bathroom door behind him before he does so, just in case a sudden canine intrusion doesn’t occur.

All he hears in response is a sniffle, and when he pulls back the curtain, his heart yowls at the sight. He made you cry.

“Oh, YN…” Your face is tucked into your knees as your body shivers with silent sobs. In an instant, he’s in the tub with you, sitting back on his calves and tugging you into his lap.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your hair.

(If you thought he was gonna miss this chance to hold you in his arms, you were wrong.)

“Shhh,” he rubs your back as your shuddering slows. “It’s okay, it’ll all be okay.”

“I-I’m scared of dogs,” you mumble, tightening your grip in his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, no,” he shakes his head, pressing you further into his chest. The feeling of your hair is so soft against his cheek. “It’s not your fault. The only person I got it for was you.”

You were hesitant to display your gratitude, so you settled for nodding. The bathroom falls to silence as Kaminari basks in the euphoria from holding you in his arms. You took comfort in him.

“I’ll give the dog back tonight, then how about I treat you to a nice dinner, hmm?”

“O-okay.”

He grins and his grip on you tightens. “Good,” he hums. Well, look at that. He had you all to himself and he got you to agree to a date with him. Win-win.

uhh hi again 😅 im sorry for requesting again hdhd but is it ok to request another akaash papercrane au? where him and the reader are friends and akaashi believed that if he folds a thousand paper cranes the reader who is sick would get better but in the end when his wish came true his life was taken in exchange for his wish.

Paper Cranes (Akaashi x Reader) 

*GIF not mine*

Summary: A thousand paper cranes led to one wish. Or at least that’s what the legend said. Akaashi never wanted or even minded if it was true. At least, not until you came along.

A/N: I’m just out here wondering why y’all wanna be hurt. Like wtf. Anyways, this bitch angsty. Like I seriously hope y’all cry at this, bc boy did I want to. So like, pls feel free to tell me if you did cry, bc then I would feel accomplished. Aight, hope y’all enjoy!

Word count: 3725

        There was a… legend, of sorts. 

        If any one person could fold one thousand paper cranes, he or she would be granted a wish. 

        Akaashi had heard this story from his grandmother at a young age, and since then scoffed at the idea. What’s a wish gonna do? And why would he need one?

        He never truly believed in fate, destiny, or any other mystical mumbo jumbos. At least not until he met you. 

                                ~~~

        The swings are the loneliest place on the playground. Only one person can enjoy the ride at the time. If you have someone to push you, you only have a split second every time you swing back toward them to talk or laugh or enjoy each other’s companies. 

        Akaashi found himself there often. He was the quietest kid in his kindergarten class, and though his appearance did make him popular in crowds, he preferred the solitude of the swings. 

        The swings didn’t expect him to be funny. They didn’t expect him to be smart. They didn’t expect him to be perfect. 

        “Hey, can I swing with you?” 

        The swings didn’t- wait, what?

        Akaashi slowed his back-and-forth swaying, lowering his dusty tennis shoes to the bark of the ground to observe who had spoken. 

        It was a girl. A girl he had seen in his class often. The rays of the sun glimmered in her eyes, making them seem magical and kind. Her hands were folded behind her back shyly, and she scuffed the toe of her plastic sandal against her other heel while awaiting his answer. 

        Being confronted by his classmates was nothing new. All the time they came up to him and chattered like mindless lemmings. But Akaashi couldn’t help but gape at this girl in shock. 

        She was the first person to ask. 

        “S-sure.” 

        The young girl gave him a wide smile and crashed down into the swing beside his, already propelling herself to and fro with a kick of her feet. 

        A feeling awoke inside Akaashi in that moment. Competition. 

        Quickly, he bent and locked out his knees, trying to catch up to your pace though you were quite a bit ahead. You giggled and squealed when he swung ahead of you, and cheered victoriously when you blew past him. 

        Breathless. That’s how he felt. There was a glow in his chest, and suddenly he understood why so many other kids enjoyed being around their fellow classmates. 

        Having a friend who enjoyed the same things as him was fun. 

                                ~~~

        “YN!” Akaashi groaned, grimacing at the sight of you dancing victoriously above him. 

        “Look at all this money, Keiji!” You threw the Monopoly dollars in the air, waggling your hips and whooping. “How does it feel to SUCK?” 

        The black haired boy only folded his arms and pushed himself deeper amongst the blankets of the pillow fort. A pout carved onto his face when you began rubbing the fake bills against your cheeks. “Ahh, to be a millionaire. By the way, how’s your bankruptcy?” 

        “Shush, you,” he sulked, grabbing a stray pillow and tossing it at your head. You only dodged and laughed, crashing onto the floor beside him with a large oof. 

        “Ahh c’mon, you know you love me twerp,” you poked the side of his cheek as you laid on your back with a grin. 

        Shaking his head, Akaashi turned his face the other way and hid a small smile. “I can’t believe you were my first friend.”

        “Only ‘cause you sucked at swinging too.”

        “How does one suck at swinging?”

        “I don’t know! How do-”

        “Kids!” Akaashi’s mother interrupted, peeking her head into the fort with a quirk of her lips. “You better get to sleep. It’s almost ten.” 

        “Okay, Mom,” the boy nodded, discreetly jabbing your stomach as soon as she disappeared outside once more. 

        “OW!” you squealed, ruffling his hair in return. 

        The living room grew silent as you both settled in to sleep five minutes later. The excitement had calmed down, and now Akaashi was huddled in a blanket just a few inches away from your own. 

        His heart raced at the idea, and many thoughts flitted through his head. One being… 

        “Hey YN?” 

        You fake snored loudly and Akaashi scoffed, pulling a lock of your hair. 

        “Geez dude, why you always gotta hurt me?” You rolled over, incidentally getting even closer to your friend, and opened your eyes to face him. Akaashi was almost choking at the proximity. 

        With a purse of his lips, he lifted himself on one elbow and scratched the back of his neck. He avidly avoided your gaze as his cheeks tinged pink. “Sorry, I just….”

        You raised a brow. “Yeah…?”

        “We’re gonna stay friends, right? Even when we go to middle school? And even high school?” 

        Akaashi held his breath while you tapped your cheek thoughtfully. “Well, I was actually kinda hoping I could replace you with Godzilla once we got there, but if that doesn’t work out, then I guess so,” you shrugged. 

        He rolled his eyes and licked his lips. “Come on, I’m being serious.” 

        “I am too.”

        “Come on.”

        “All right, all right!” You lifted your hand out from under your blanket and poked him in the cheek once again, a new, nervous habit of yours. “Of course, stupid. We’re gonna be best friends forever. I promise.” 

        You held out your pinkie with a grin, and Akaashi stared at it hesitantly. 

        “Forever?” 

        You nodded, and he gave in, interlocking his last finger with your smaller one. 

        “Yeah, Keiji. Forever.”

                                ~~~

        Volleyball became a huge part of Akaashi’s life in middle school, and even on into high school. 

        “Hey, hey, hey Akaashi! Pass it to me!” 

        But not once did your friendship stray. 

        “It’s yours, Bokuto!”

        Every few seconds, he caught a glimpse of you in the stands. A large grin adorned your face, and you held a personalized sign just for him that you waved frantically any time he scored a point. 

        “GO AKAASHI!!!” Your voice, almost impeded by the overall clamor and volume of the gymnasium, was still fine-tuned in his ears. They perked at the cheer like the first melody of a bird on a bright morning. 

        A quirk of his lips accompanied the call, and he had to shake his head to stay focused on the game. 

        Block this guy’s spike.

        Send the set directly above the net so Bokuto can get a cross-court shot. 

        Where’s Konoha?

        I better send this one to-

        His never ending train of thoughts faltered for a second at the sound of a collective gasp. Nothing amazing had happened on the court, at least not from his point of view. So something must’ve happened in the crowd. 

        Hollers and cheers shifted to low, concerned murmurs. 

        The team on the other side of the net watched the audience in complete shock. 

        What is…

        Akaashi turned around with a crease in his brow and instinctively searched for you.

        You were gone. 

        Nostrils flaring, he slipped under the net to the other side of the court for a better vantage point. The sight shot his heart to pieces. 

        There, on the second level of the gym, collapsed against the plastic bleachers, was your unconscious form. 

                                ~~~

        The fluorescent lights on the ceiling of the hospital buzzed almost silently. And yet, for as long as Akaashi had been there, it was the only sound he could hear. 

        He stood outside your room like a guard dog, keeping his gaze locked on you at all times. 

        Through the glass windows of your room, he watched as your parents hugged you with tear-stained cheeks. You, on the other hand, were emotionless. Your eyes were unfocused, and you didn’t seem to be tuned into reality at the moment. 

        A half an hour passed. Your parents finally let him into the room, and he stepped in almost unwillingly. 

        “Mom, Dad, can… umm… can we have a moment alone?” 

        Your mom almost screeched in denial, but your father swiftly nodded and grabbed her hand, tugging her out of the room. “Of course, sweetie.”

        As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, Akaashi gnawed on his bottom lip nervously. “So….”

         You seemed to snap out of it and turned to him with blank eyes. Your form was slumped back against the pillows of the hospital bed and you fiddled with the white cotton blanket. A thin, white nightgown covered your body, but it seemed to tremble every few seconds. Or maybe that was you. “Keiji.” 

        He took the cue and scurried to your bedside, grabbing your IV-plugged hand in his own. The pads of his fingers ran over your skin in a comforting manner, but he wasn’t exactly sure if it was helping any. “YN… what-”

        “The doctor said I have like a year.” You sounded so distant, locked away deep inside yourself. Almost confused at what was happening, but you also knew your fate. 

        Akaashi couldn’t breathe. His eyes watered and his brows furrowed and he almost grew angry at your dismissive state. But he couldn’t be mad at you. It wasn’t your fault. 

        “What,” he shakily whispered, whole body rigid, “YN, what happened?”

        “I don’t know,” your voice cracked, and suddenly the facade fell. Or maybe reality finally set in. “They said I’m sick or something and it’s incurable and I’m going to die! Oh God, I’m going to die, Keiji!” You wailed and bawled and cried as much as you could, and Akaashi let his tears flow too. 

        “I don’t wanna die!”

        Akaashi nodded, grimacing and clenching his eyes closed while he sat on your bed and hugged you. 

        “Please, I don’t wanna die!” 

        Your body convulsed in his grasp as you heaved out sobs, afraid of something you couldn’t fight. This was a battle no one could win. This was fate. 

        Akaashi cursed under his breath as he rocked you back and forth, running a hand through your tangled strands before whispering soft reassurances to your deaf ears. 

        You began to cough and hiccup, shoving your face deeper into his soaked shoulder. 

        Nothing could be said. Nothing could be done. 

        The room was tense, filled with utter, uncontrolled fear. 

        Nothing could stop this.

        “Please don’t let me die.” 

        Akaashi’s bloodshot eyes opened in the slightest as an idea hit him. He squeezed you tighter as your sobs slowed to whimpers, and shook his head. I won’t let that happen.

                                ~~~

        “Do you have an eight?”

        “Go fish.”

        “Fuck.”

        “Do you have a king?”

        “...No.”

        “YN.”

        “FINE!” You threw your cards down on the bed with a pout. Akaashi chuckled and gathered up the cards, giving you a smug glance. 

        “What is it you said to me when we were kids? ‘How does it feel to suck?’”

        You stuck out your tongue and batted his teasing hands away before folding your arms. “Shut up,” you muttered. 

        The hospital room was becoming more and more your own. Flowers decorated the windowsill, a couple books sat on the nightstand, and you even had a few folded cranes of Akaashi’s on your headboard. 

        Months had passed, nine to be specific, since you got the diagnosis. Time was running out. 

        “Well, YN, I brought your homework.” Akaashi dug around in his bag before pulling out a stack of assignments. A bright yellow sticky note sat on the top with your name scribbled haphazardly. 

        “You know, Keiji, it’s funny you think I’d actually spend my time doing that instead of, oh I don’t know,” you playfully shrugged, “having fun the rest of my life.” 

        Akaashi gulped but forced his smile to remain steady on his face. For you.

        “I think you should still do it, YN. It’ll keep you smart.” 

        “What smarts am I gonna need when I’m-” 

        “YN please.” Akaashi winced at your recent lax in self-respect. A muscle in his jaw irked at the thought, but his eyes stayed locked on the cranes just above your head. 

        You nodded and softened your gaze. “Sorry, Keiji.” You held out your hands and accepted the papers he handed you. “I’ll try my best on them.”

        “Thank you. And don’t forget to use my notes,” Akaashi added.

        “How could I,” you scoffed. “Half of ‘em are done in glitter pens.” The corner of Akaashi’s mouth quirked up at the thought. 

        “Only ‘cause I know you like them that way.” Akaashi leaned in to give you a hug, pressing a kiss to your hair that he knew you couldn’t feel. Your warmth, the warmth you filled his heart with, made him never want to leave. But he had to. 

        “All right, I have to go, but before I do,” Akaashi dug around in his bag for a second before locating his gift with a sparkle in his eyes. “Here.”

        A blue paper crane was set in your palm, and his fingers brushed yours before he pulled them away. Your body wiggled in happiness at the new addition. 

        “Yay! Another one! How about I call this one…” you trailed off, tapping your chin in thought. Then you pointed your finger in the air in glee. “Perry! What do you think, Keiji?” 

        You reached up and set the crane along with the others while Akaashi nodded in agreement. “It’s perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow, YN.” 

        Just as Akaashi stepped away, you grabbed his hand and tugged it to gain his attention once again. 

        “What’s wrong?” 

        You scrutinized his face with narrowed eyes, reaching your hand up and brushing your fingers just above his cheeks. “Keiji?”

        “Hmm?” His eyes were almost closed in bliss, enjoying every spark of exhilaration that came with your touch. He flinched when you patted his cheek roughly. 

        “Get some more sleep at night. You look like shit.” 

        Blue eyes flickering open, he covered your hand with his own and delivered a soft kiss to your palm. “Not in a million years.”

                                ~~~

        Everything around him was fuzzy and blurred. The room was so dim and warm. A wave of exhaustion hit him every two seconds, leaving his head reeling and his ears thumping. 

        And yet, he wouldn’t move. 

        No, not if he couldn’t help it. 

        Papercuts littered his fingers. Scraps and scraps of paper, all shapes, colors and sizes, laid out in front of him, along with one lone whiteboard and marker. 

        The sun was just beginning to rise outside his window, and birds began to stir in their nests. 

        Fuck, he was so tired. His body pleaded with him to close his eyes just once. 

        No. 

        Shuffling of parchment became his new white noise. The pads of his fingers were on fire with every fold and every crease. 

        Then he set the new crane behind him, uncapped the marker and drew a single tick mark. 

        “Eight-hundred and seventy-four,” he muttered with a sigh. 

        Another.

        He grabbed a new page with sore, pained arms, resisting the urge to yawn and starting anew. 

        Fold. Crease. Fold. Crease. Fold. 

        “Eight-hundred and seventy-five.”

                                ~~~

        “Ughhh yesss,” you moaned, licking the sweet stickiness off your fingers. “It’s been too long since I’ve had ice cream.” 

        Akaashi smiled at the sight. Your face had glowed with pure joy when he showed up with your favorite flavor, and you had deadpanned “I love you.”

        It was enough for him. He chuckled into his own bowl before swallowing another spoonful. “What, is the Jello not any good here?”

        You flipped him off and continued downing your cold treat. “Next time they try to force that gelatinous shit down my throat, I’m just gonna hop out the window.” 

        “From the fourth floor?”

        You shrugged. “Why not? I could make it! I’ve seen it in the movies, all you have to do is roll.” 

        Your dark haired friend scoffed at the thought. “Yes, please ‘roll.’ It will be much quicker travel than limping on two broken legs.” 

        You busted out laughing. “See? Now you get it!” Your face was frozen in pure joy as you held your ice cream. 

        This moment made it all worth it. You were beautiful. Completely happy and carefree for the first time in a year. Akaashi didn’t want you to worry anymore. 

        He would only hope that you could find someone to make you laugh like this again once he was gone. He didn’t want you to be alone like he had been before you. You were the light of his life. You made him discover a purpose for living, and you lead him through it. He would follow you to the ends of the Earth if need be. And now was the time to repay you.

        His bag was empty this visit aside from a single slip of paper. It was blue, your favorite color. “It reminds me of your eyes, which are really hot, by the way,” you had said.

        “I did my homework like you asked.” You nodded with complete self-assurance and even held up the assignment. “I might’ve gotten number three wrong though….”

        “That’s okay.” Akaashi set down his bowl and stood up, approaching your bedside with slow, purposeful steps. 

        You were breathtaking at this angle. The sun shined just barely through your room’s window, and lit up your entire face with a single ray. It emphasized the natural glow of life you already had. 

        Yeah, he could do this. For you, he would do anything. 

        When he stopped at your bedside, you shifted under your blankets until your legs hung off the side of the mattress. Completely facing him, you threw him a questioning glance. “What’s up?”

        “Can I kiss you?” 

        He had to at least try. If only once. 

        You stopped breathing and your heart stuttered in your chest. Akaashi could read it all over your flushed face that-- Thank God-- you felt the same way he did. 

        It was a mixture of euphoria and anxiousness that flooded his stomach when you nodded. A shy smile covered your face, and it grew larger the closer he leaned towards you. Then finally, your lips touched. 

        The kiss was soft and slow, with Akaashi’s hands landing on the bed around you to support himself. Your lips were plush and tasted like sugary sweetness, and he snatched up your chin the second you tried to pull away too soon. 

        This second kiss was more passionate, rushed and intoxicating. The fervor of it left you feeling light-headed and breathless. And loved. His lips smashed against your own in a desperation of showing how he felt. It was as if he was making up for lost time, or something opposite of that. 

        And then he pulled away, gasping for air and not regretting a thing. His hand slowly dropped from your chin and fell to your thigh, barely covered by the thin hospital gown. His fingertips, rougher than you remembered, gently massaged your skin, leaving you to sigh happily. 

        His forehead pressed against your own, and smiles were permanently etched on both your faces. 

        “I love you,” Akaashi finally whispered, eyes staring honestly into your own.

        “I love you too,” you pecked his lips once more and he returned it with ease. 

        You stayed like that for so long, just enjoying the feeling and proximity of one another. The air was clear. You loved each other. 

        But now, one of you had to let go.

        Akaashi pulled away slowly with one last peck. While you sat with affectionate eyes watching his every move, he dug in his bag and pulled out a slip of paper. 

        “You write me a letter or something?” you teased. 

        “This is better than any letter I could write you, love, trust me.” Akaashi threw you a soft smile before settling onto the bed beside you. 

        You watched in utter fascination as folded and pressed the paper with skilled fingers. 

        “Wow, Keiji, you’re so good at that!” You let a hand hover over his own and stop the process for a second. “How long have you been practicing?” 

        Akaashi froze in an instant, but quickly rolled his shoulders and relaxed his form, leaning himself closer to your presence. “Quite a while now, but I did it for you.” 

        You beamed at him, tears pricking your eyes. “Keiji….” With a small, disbelieving shake of your head, you pressed your lips to his own just one more time. This time as a thank you. 

        Then you urged him to continue with a slight wave of your hand. 

        And he did so. 

        Fold. Crease. Fold. Crease. Fold. 

        And at last, the final product. A single paper crane of gorgeous blue, just like his eyes. 

        “YN.”

        “Hmm?”

        Akaashi hands you the crane and stares deeply into your eyes. “I love you.” 

        “I love you too.” 

        “And I wish for your life to be spared. At the expense of my own.” 

        “What?” You giggle in confusion, growing more and more concerned as Akaashi’s eyes seem to flutter. 

        Then they close for one last time. 

        “Keiji?” 

        His body slumps back, falling like dead weight to the mattress of your hospital bed. 

        “Keiji?!”

        You were afraid. So afraid. 

        “Keiji, what did you do?” you mumble breathlessly, wide eyes locked on him. On his body. 

        “WHAT DID YOU DO?!” 

        Gut-wrenching sobs tore through your chest, leaving your whole form trembling. 

        “KEIJI!” Your blood-curdling screams led crowds of nurses to your room, but they could never pull you away. You, keeled over Akaashi’s lifeless form, refused to move even an inch. You hugged him close, wailing and wailing against his unmoving chest. Incoherent moans scratch your throat as you rock him back and forth, whispering I love yous one last time.

        The legend was uncomplicated, but so painfully real.

        A thousand paper cranes. One wish. 

        And Akaashi’s wish was simple. A life for a life. 

        Him. For you.