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synopsis: visiting your parents never seemed to work out in your favor. hanma seemed to notice the odd shift in mood whenever you were reminded of them—you moved for a reason after all
cw: depictions of cigarettes + smoking , strained familial relationship , hanma is a bit ooc , self-indulgent writing , comfort + fluff
words: 2.2k
ଘ lmk if i missed anything + reblogs are appreciated !
The tension was always suffocating whenever you decided to pay visit to your parents’ low-budget apartment you once called ‘home’. Though, you were one to talk—you moved out and were now renting a separate room in that exact same complex, just a few floors higher. You deemed it to be okay at the time; at least you didn’t have to deal with them breathing down your neck every day. Maybe one day you’d be able to escape the confines of this less-than-stellar location.
It was yet another day you’ve contemplated on your unspoken insistence to visit them. Maybe it was just natural instinct—a child worrying about their parents and checking up on them to make sure they’re at least in somewhat good conditions—but they’ve always seemed to hold a grudge on you ever since you told them about your plans to move.
It’s not like your parents were horrible people, it’s just that they could be too much sometimes. ’Helicopter parenting’ is what they would call it nowadays. They always seemed to have something to nitpick every time you decided to stop by. Always.
“He’s surely bad news.”
You sighed for what seemed like the tenth time since your arrival. You drowned out your dad’s comments on another one of your “delinquent friends” as he would like to call them. He wasn’t wrong per se, it was just the way the words fell out with such distaste from his mouth. If you were being honest, you couldn’t really blame him. You understood the distrust him, and many others, had for delinquents. You just wish your parents had a bit more faith in your taste in friends.
“What was his name again?” Your mother glanced over to your slumped figure on the couch. “Hanma...Hanma Shuji, right?”
You let out a small groan at the mention of his full name. You had met Hanma a few months ago, your presence piquing a small interest in him when he accidentally knocked you over after running out of some vacant alleyway.
Toppling over both you and your things, he slowed down his step and turned to you; now amused at the sight of your struggle.
After dusting yourself off, you sent a small glare his way before turning around and continuing on with your day, muttering a few words under your breath. “A little help would’ve been nice.”
“I don’t do those sorts of things.” You rolled your eyes. Of course he had to hear your little tantrum. To add insult to injury, he decided that it would be fun to follow you around like some sort of stray for the rest of the day as well, along with an occasional snide joke or two—it wasn’t like he had anything better to do.
You two would look back on those events and laugh at it now. At least he was nice enough to stick around even after such a trivial encounter. Whenever you voiced out your wonder on the exact reason as to why, he would pass it off as him ‘simply enjoying the show’.
Having heard enough passive-aggressive comments directed towards your friend, you comb a hand through your hair, your hand staying stagnant to cradle your face for a few seconds. Standing up abruptly, you walk over to the front door and slip on your shoes, face blank as you ignore the tired stares from your parents. Your visitations were always short-lived; it was abnormal for you to last even a full 2 hours in there.
“I’m gonna get some fresh air.”
No other words were said as you pulled open the door and walked out. Walking down the hall, your were met with pasty white walls and fluorescent lighting. It was so empty, so dreary. You drummed your fingers on your thigh while absentmindedly humming out a tune to keep yourself preoccupied from your thoughts.
The metal doors of the elevator finally came in your peripheral. Pressing a button, you didn’t have to wait long before the doors opened up, a slight drag to your steps as you pressed the button leading to the highest floor of the complex. In your short solace, the small chime from the loudspeaker kept you from zoning out for too long.
The top floor was significantly smaller than the rest—just a few apartments to the right of the elevator and another door parallel to it; the sign reading it to be the small set of stairs leading to the rooftop. Turning the doorknob, you winced at the harsh creek the door made, the chill of the cold night’s breeze kissing your face lightly. The wind whistled an audible tune as you trudged up the stairs quickly.
Reaching the top, you hunch forward and catch your breath, a visible cloud forming from your mouth whenever you exhaled loud enough. You huffed out a small laugh through chattered teeth before straightening up and examining the darkened sky above you. If you had to admit; it was a bit dull—the night was cloud-free, the moon was quite bright out tonight, and you could make out a few stars if you squinted hard enough.
Walking towards the edge, you seated yourself atop a few scattered crates, the added height allowing a clearer view of the city from above. The blur of cars and the multitude of colorful lights never failed to calm you down. It was always a nice sight to see whenever you needed a place to think—and tonight was no different.
Your mind drifted back to your parents’ shameless comments towards Hanma. It’s not like you haven’t tried to defend his ass either, yet they remained unchanging with their beliefs.
Replaying their words in your head caused your frown to deepen. Hanma really wasn’t as bad as they made him out to be—you learned that first hand. Shaking your head, you cleared your thoughts and distracted yourself with the view once more. The last thing you wanted right now was to be influenced by clouded judgement.
You clicked your tongue. “How stubborn..” You muttered out to no one in particular. ‘Guess it runs in the family..’
Keeping your gaze forward, you lean back slightly on your forearm, your other hand tracing small shapes into the rigid wooden crate you’ve found purchase on. The overbearing treatment your parents gave you coupled with the rowdy neighbors on your floor—you truly did appreciate calm moments like these.
It was kind of funny how sour your mood was right now. It was always small, unimportant matters that seemed to hit you the hardest—you almost had to laugh at the growing burdens you’ve kept to yourself. What else could you do?
“What a pain, huh?”
Your breath stuttered for a second. ‘That voice..’
Glancing to your side, your eyes widened at the sight of Hanma now stood beside your seated figure. He was leaning leisurely on the crate, arms perched alongside the edge with one leg propped up for balance. He leaned back, an infamous giggle leaving his lips as he breathed in the fresh air.
He craned his neck to face you, lax grin never leaving. “What’s gotten you so upset, hmm?” His tone seemed to poke fun at your misery, but you could easily pick out some worry. You let out a lighthearted scoff at his words and shot him a small smile. You knew he didn’t mean any harm; you’d come to familiarize yourself with his way of showing concern.
“Why are you here?” He noticed how you dodged the question, but decided not to dwell on it. You were curious as to how and why he knew you were here in the first place. He didn’t live here either.
“Can I not see you or something? I’m hurt.”
Hanma watched your face scrunch up in confusion before chuckling a bit. Once your laughter subsided, he opted to stop messing with you just this once.
“You visit your parents every Saturday. That’s all.” He drawled off, changing the focus of his peripheral to the vibrant colors of the city. He didn’t need to say anything more than that, sensing you’d catch on. He knew about your somewhat estranged relationship with them—the string connecting both parties was wearing thin.
Scooting back, you hauled your legs onto the wooden box, now sitting criss-crossed as you glanced over to see him joining you, keeping his legs over the edge.
He looked at you expectantly, thinking you’d say something. Yet, all you did was hum lowly with the wind, paying his prior words no mind. How odd. His face faltered at your lack of response. Maybe he had to be more upfront about it? That was something he couldn’t do, but it wouldn’t hurt anyone to try. If anything, it would hurt him more if he didn’t do anything to stop your little pity party.
“Are you alrig—“
“Pass me a cig.”
You both halted, mouths slightly ajar. Those words were so unlike either of you; hell, you’d think the other would’ve said it instead. He’s only seen you smoke a couple of times; mainly when it got too much for you. He frowned, slowly reaching into his pocket to fetch one from its box along with a lighter.
“You sure about this?” He didn’t want to reprimand you or anything—he smoked a lot more than you after all. All he received was a curt nod back as you quickly grabbed both items from his hand. Clumsily, you place the stick between your lips and strike the lighter a few times—a few times too many. You haven’t done this in a while, and you were more than just a little desperate to forget about everything for a little while.
Before you knew it, another pair of tattooed hands snaked themselves around your shaky ones, ceasing your movements altogether. You looked up to meet Hanma’s golden eyes, a small frown on his face as his brows knitted together in what could only be concern.
It all happened too quickly for your liking. Quietly, he scooted closer to you and moved a hand to snatch the cig from your mouth gently before leaning forward to place a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth, surprising you. Leaning back just as quickly, he now had both the lighter and cig back in his possession as he smiled slightly at your bemused state.
“Like this idiot,” he mumbled, careful to not drop the cigarette now placed between his own lips. He cupped a hand near his mouth and lit it with ease, inhaling the familiar scent of nicotine. He paused for a few seconds before taking it out again, huffing out the smoke almost boredly. You examined him as he offered the cig back to you, refusing to look you in the eye in case you saw through his facade—he could blame the red tint of his cheeks on the cold as a last resort or something.
A soft chuckle bubbled up your throat as you grabbed the cig, your other hand grasping onto ‘sin’ itself. Hanma’s expression hardened, turning his head just in time to catch your lips on his, his eyes shutting at the sudden impact. You on the other hand were quite baffled. You were originally aiming for his cheek—similar to what he did—but ended up kissing him for real.
You were about to move away in worries that he would hate you after this, but stilled once you felt a callused hand coming up to rub the apple of your cheek almost affectionately, the other moving to latch onto your wrist once more. You took this as your sign to ease back into the kiss, your free hand reaching to weave through his already tousled hair. The wind seemed to cheer you two on as it grew louder, cigarette now long forgotten as died out a few seconds later.
You pulled away first, breathing heavily as you rested our forehead on his and closed your eyes. Hanma catalogued every detail of your face in his head, palm still flat on your cheek as you leaned into its warmth.
“I hope this isn’t some one time thing.”
“Have more faith in me, will you?” He huffed out before planting another quick kiss to your lips, using his index finger to playfully push you away afterwards.
He eyed the worn out cigarette on the concrete floor beneath you two, grabbing another one from his pocket. This time, he neatly placed it between your lips before handing you the lighter. He didn’t want to stop you in case you still wanted it. You send him a small look of gratitude before taking the lighter and lighting it up almost instantly, admiring the small, amber colored flame for a few seconds. You lit up the cig afterwards, letting the smoke whisk away your thoughts for tonight.
Hanma knew not to poke and prod at the topic of your parents for the rest of the night; he realized that when he examined the small, more genuine smile that played on your lips after you blew out a cloud of smoke. He was just glad he could keep you away from your problems for a while.
“Feeling a bit better?”
He felt a small weight on his shoulder as you leaned on him contently.
“Yeah.”
a/n: i swear i don’t have an addiction to writing about cigarettes or anything </3
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Now playing - Hey Lover
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Imagine this. You had just expireniced what you can imagine was the worst thing anyone can ever see. You literally had to watch one of your friends (I mean, you wouldn’t really call Teruteru you friend, but still.) get executed. Not only were you in a very tense situation, like you couldn’t trust anyone, but someone fucking killed someone else, and you had to watch someone die. To say you were going through a lot would be an understatement. But, you knew you had to keep moving forward, for the sake of you and your fellow classmates.
But something else was bugging you. A certain boy who has been shown to have a very…. Deprecating view on himself. He almost got himself killed if it wasn’t for Hajime’s logic and practical thinking. He thought he had to full on kill someone else, and was about to do it, too, just so he could make others feel better. That truly didn’t sit right with you. And something else that didn’t sit right with you was the fact that you couldn’t find him anywhere in the restaurant. Something was going on and you really didn’t like it. You already saw two of your friends die, you weren’t about to see another one meet the same fate.
Just as you were about to check to see if he was just sleeping in, you saw your classmate Sōda pacing back and forth near the entrance of the hotel.
“Hey, sōda! I have a random question to ask you, are you busy?”
“Busy? Huh? Who? Me? I’m not busy, never been busy in my whole life! W-what would you like to ask?”
He tried to push the fact he was a-okay, but you knew something was boiling underneath his smiley mask.
“Have you seen Nagito anywhere around?”
“N-Nagito? W-w-who’s Nagito? Why-uh-why do you ask? Why would you never want to be around someone like him?!”
You looked at him with a suspicious glare. Yes, it did seem strange to want to be around him, but if no one else was going to, you knew you had to be the one. He always acted so nice and friendly to others, and it strangely made you want to act the same way. And yes, the thought that me might try to kill again was scary, but sometimes you just have to take risks, especially if it’s for the sake of one of your friends.
“Soda, come on, don’t say something like that. Just as Nagito would say, that’s not very hopeful of you. Hehe- but seriously, where is he. Did you do something?”
“… uh-um. I… I didn’t do anything…”
You gave him another glare, this one filled with more angry than before. The thoughts of what kinds of torchurous things Sōda could have done to him made your skin crawl. You needed to make sure he was okay.
“Sōda, if you didn’t tell me where he is and what you did to him, I’ll find a way to get it out of you.”
After a few seconds of him trying to get himself to hold back, he burst.
“Okay, okay, okay!! Please stop looking at me like that! N-Nagito is in the abandoned house… I wanted to make everyone feel safer… and it’s impossible unless that… monster is chained up. He got what he deserves for trying to-“
“Chained up?!! You sound just as bad as he was, what the fuck is wrong with you?! You actually thought that was a good idea? That’s inhumane, even to someone who put someone’s life in danger! What the fuck, dude!
You pushed soda’s shoulders, causing him to yelp in fear.
“I-I! B-b-but he- I…. I guess your right… but he put someone’s life in danger once already, there is nothing stopping him from doing it again!! You just want me to let him go off and kill someone else?! Maybe you’re the crazy one!”
“Ugh… here. Why not I make a deal. I’ll take the responsibility of watching over him 24/7 to make sure he doesn’t do anything dangerous if you can give me the key or whatever to his chains. Sound fair? And if something happens, you can lock him and me up, okay?”
He thought for a few minuets, his hand messing around with something in his pocket.
“….. fine, I’ll agree to that. It would be more useful having someone always keeping a watch on him. Here…”
He cautiously gave you the key, which looked to be the key to a pair of handcuffs. You thanked him before quickly beginning to sprint over to the abandoned house. You didn’t know how long he must have been kept in there, it was like Schrödinger’s cat. He could either me alive, or in worse case senecio, dead. Those awful thoughts only made you run faster.
As soon as you jumped up the creaky sodden stairs and flung open the door, you were face to face with a certain fluffy, pink and white rabbit. Monomi.
“Wahwahwahhh?! What are you doing here?!”
You were honestly surprised. Did Sōda convince Monomi to stand guard here or something? Did she know the situation that Nagito was currently in? Did she know how bad did a fucking idea this was?!
“Monomi. I know Sōda probably convinced you to stand here, but please, you don’t know the true scale of this problem. Nagito’s health could probably be in danger right now, and you’re blocking people from even entering the building. At least let me by, okay?”
“WA-WA-WAH?!!? H-his health?! Is he in danger?!”
“He could be! And that’s why I really need to check on him, please let me by.”
“Eeek!! Okay! You can go by!”
With a few squeaky-toy noises as Monomi stepped out of the way, you started twards the ominous wooden doors of the main room. Something inside of you was whispering you weren’t going to like the sight ahead of you. As you opened the doors with a loud, ear piercing screech, your suspicions came true.
“…. Reader? Ah….hahaha! I never couldn’t have guessed you would be the one to come and meet me. Forgive me, due to my… restrictions, I cannot grant you my fullest hospitalities, but please, make yourself at home.”
A part of you was insanely relieved. He wasn’t dead, clearly, or hurt, or in any sort of dangerous position, which put you a little more at ease. But, he was fucking chained up!! That’s like the definition of inhumane! To chain someone up like this, uncomfortably resting on the hard floor, his shoulder must be hurting like ever living hell! Soda may have had a reason to want to put Nagito in a position where he couldn’t easily hurt someone, but this is straight up disgusting.
You were too shocked to even speak. All you could do with your body was approach him, kneeling down in front of him. He cocked his head in confusion. He may be someone who likes to think everything through and form an idea of what others may do, but he really didn’t expect you to do something like… this!
“What are you doing? Are you.. heh…. Heheheh… hahahahahh!!! No, you can’t be. Don’t tell me you feel bad for someone as revolting as me! Do you know how much of your time you would waste worrying about someone like me?”
You tried to say something… anything. Maybe tell Nagito it’s not truly, that he truly does have worth, or maybe that you were going to free him, just anything to put your mind at ease. But nothing came out. Only silence. And after a few moments, quiet sobs followers shortly by tears. It broke your heart to see your classmates, people who you thought you could trust, do such absolutely cruel things! Is this truly how humans behave when in these life or death situations?!
“Huh? Why are you crying? Am I that awful to be around that I bring you to tears with just my presence?”
All you could manage to do was shake you head. You took a could deep breaths, channeling all the willpower you had to form the strength to find the right words.
“You… you don’t deserve this… this is so cruel. How… how could someone do this to you? I…. I can’t bare to see this anymore… if we continue, we are going to turn into fucking animals. He need to come together, not tear each other apart… I will… c-can I… can I at least…”
You wanted to say that you wanted to help him feel a little better, to help him know at least one person didn’t hate him, and even cared for him, but the words couldn’t fall off the tip of your tongue.
“…. I… deserve to be treated well? Heh… are you saying I deserve hope?”
You nodded.
“Of course… everyone does. So can I… can I show you some… hope? Eh- that sounded weird-um, what I mean is, I made a deal with Soda that I-I- um, I could take care of you. At least, that’s what I want to do.”
Nagito froze. You were… were you planning on freeing him? And what do you mean by taking care of him. Were you letting him go so you could find a way to kill him? He couldn’t help but perk up at the thought. Getting killed so someone else could bring hope to others… he couldn’t think of a better idea himself!
“Of course! If that’s what you want to do, then by all means, do whatever you want!”
You couldn’t help but laugh a tiny bit, but you nodded in agreement, leaning over his body slightly to unlock his confinements. After his handcuffs came off, now was the hard part. His ropes. They would take a lot more effort to get off. So, in the mean time, why not have a conversation.
“I… I was thinking about something lately… why do you feel like you have to hurt others and yourself for the sake of everyone else?”
“Well, it’s obvious! If hurting one of a few people can bring hope to a lot more people, then it’s an easy choice to make! Especially when it’s myself. I truly have no worth, so being used for hope just gives my life meaning-“
“No, I meant did anything happen in your life to make you think this way about yourself?”
“Well, my whole life was kinda… rough. But, it doesn’t and shouldn’t matter to an ultimate like you! Wow…. Hahahah, I truly can’t comprehend why someone would be wasting their time freeing me. Don’t you know how dangerous I am? Or maybe…. It’s because you’re the ultimate hope! Ahahah…. HAHAHAH! All of this would make sense! You came to save me because you-“
“Nagito, please,” you tossed the ropes aside after finally getting them off, “don’t say such things about yourself. Please.”
To his surprise, you placed your hand on his head. Even by the littlest of touch, just a hand resting on his white hair, causes his face to erupt in a massive but light blush. But you had other things on your mind. Such as his hair. His hair looked very fluffy at first, but now touching it, it felt very matted and tangly, as if he thinks he doesn’t even deserve to take care of himself. This needed to stop. First others treating him poorly, and now himself? Good thing you knew exactly what to do. After spending this whole time collecting all the determination you could, you decided it was time to stop acting like a little baby and take charge.
“Nagito, you’re coming with me. I’m going to show you that you truly are worth something. Here, take my hand.”
As Nagito’s eyes looked up at you, he swear for a second you looked exactly like an Angel. The air around you seemed to glow and sparkle, imagining a shining halo above your head and a large pair of silky wings on your back. It was so beautiful, he felt like he could cry. He timidly reached out to you, not even thinking he deserved to touch someone as hopeful as you. As soon as his hand of in yours, you carefully helped him to his feet. He groaned from the feeling of finally getting to stand up.
“You know… the more I look at you, the more I really want to take care of you. Come on, let’s go to my cottage. I’ll run you a nice warm bath, get you some food and brush your hair. Does that sound nice?”
He was too stunned to speak at your graciousness to scum like him. But… the mroe he thought about it, the more the idea peaked his interest.
“I… heheh, if this is truly something you want, I would be a disgrace to stop you.”
You gave him a comforting smile before heading back to your dorm.
.
..
….
After a few minutes, you exited your bathroom and approached Nagito, who was sitting a bit uncomfortably on your bed. His posture was stiff, as if he was too scared to more or even breath as to not ruin your bed. He was already so lucky, he was almost expecting something catastrophic to happen.
“Okay, the bath is pretty much ready. I even added some soap in there to make it all bubbly! Follow me.”
Nagito nodded and anxiously gulped. He followed you into the bathroom, staring in awe at the bathtub, which looked so warm and pretty with all the bubbles in it. It was almost like this was a dream. And if it was, he never, ever wanted to wake it.
“Here, test the water to see if it’s okay with you.”
Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
“Test the water? Uh, okay. If you want me to. But it truly doesn’t matter. As long as you say it’s okay, i won’t ever protest.”
You shook your head.
“Please Nagito. I told you, degrading yourself isn’t something you should be doing so often. It’s okay ti be self critical sometimes, but when it’s just about testing to see if the water is a good temperature or not, please understand that I respect your opinion. I want this to be about you… I want you to feel better after all the stuff Sōda tried to do. “
He could honestly feel tears welling up in his eyes again, but he pushed them away. He didn’t want to make you worry about him anymore then Joey currently were. He turned back to the tub and slowly stuck a few fingers in. Even though it was only his fingers, he already felt his body relaxing at the warm temperature.
“It’s… perfect. I… Um.. if you want I, I’m ready whenever you would like me to..”
You gave him an exhausted smile. At least he was trying.
“Then yes, if you want to get in, you can. I’ll close my eyes so you can undress.”
Nagito nodded before you covered your hands over your eyes. You heard faint slashing noises, which were the sounds of Nagito getting into the bath. He let out a low, barly audible sign, feeling all the tension in his body dissipate. It was almost magical. He usually takes cold showers because sits the quickest way to get clean without feeling like he is wasting other people’s warm water, so this was fairly new for him. You peaked between your fingers, putting your hands down as you saw the very content Nagito resting against the edge of the tub with a dazed expression. He was so flipping adorable! You giggled at the sight.
“Would it be okay if I wash you hair?”
“If you want to, I would stop you.”
“But, do you want me to?”
“… I… does it… matter how I feel?”
“Of course it does. It always matters how you feel. Now please, do you want me to?”
“…. Yes…”
“Good boy.”
As those two words fell off your tongue, it probably made you just as surprised as Nagito. Did your rally just say that?! Fuck, how embarrassing! But, on the flip side, Nagito’s brain was practically scrambling. First you freed him, then let him in your cottage, then made him a bath, and now you called him good boy? The red blush and the fucked out expression on his face was enough to tell you that he was really enjoying everything a lot right now. But, you didn’t want to ruin the mood with an sexual stuff right now.
You took a stray brush on the side of the sink and started to as carefully as you could start at the bottoms of his hair. And just as you thought, it was very, very tangled. He grunted and groaned at the pain, but didn’t speak out. If anything, he kinda felt like he deserved it so he was surprisingly, but also unsurprisingly, content.
“Mph… Nagito, please tell me the truth. How often to you spend time taking care of yourself?”
You think you already knew the answer to that, but you wanted to know the truth.
“Uh… maybe… every two days? I normally just take a cold shower… that’s… that’s really all I deserve-“
“What did I say about saying stuff like that? And only every two days? No wonder your hair is so tangled… don’t worry, I’ll make it better.”
“You know… after brushing your hair out a little, it looks a lot more fluffy now. It’s kinda pretty.
“You… hehe… you’re… so hopeful.”
Nagito couldn’t help but feel more relaxed then he has every felt in his life. And who could blame him? He was taking a nice, warm bath, having his hair brushed, and even being praised every so often! Before he could stop himself, he started falling asleep. His breathing slowed and his body went limp. You honestly thought something bad happened. But as you listened to his shallow breathing, you realized he just fell asleep. And fuck, was he adorable. He had the cutest face, so still and pristine, almost like a porcelain doll. And the fact that all it took for him to fall asleep was just taking care of him and treeating him like a normal human being made your heart melt and crack at the same time. At that moment, you knew what you were going to do. It was very likely Nagito hadn’t received this kind of treatment in his childhood, which could have been damaging to him. No wonder he always treats himself poorly. So, you decided you want to try and make up for that. To try and treat him as well as you can to show him that someone cares about him. Because you knew in your heart, even thought he is slightly psychotic and tried to commit murder, all because of the unknown events of his past, he were sure that you loved him.
As Nagito’s eyes adjusted to his surroundings, he found himself laying down in your bed with… your arms wrapped around him?! Were you… spooning him?!? He wanted to jump up or push himself away from you, but he didn’t want to wake you. And why would he want to jump out of your arms in the first place? They felt so warm… so comforting… he almost couldn’t handle. He really couldn’t handle everything that you do to him! It made he feel like he was something delicate, something that needed to be preserved. And to be honest, it was very addictive. He wore a familiar blush and smile on his face as he pushed his body against yours, hugging your arms tighter around him. You smelled so good… you felt so good… at first, he thought you were going to do all this and leave, which would be an acceptable thing in his mind, but no… you stayed here with him. You did so much just to stay with him. It gave him so many good feelings… good feelings of hope. He thought he would need to kill someone or himself so it could raise others spirits, but you… if he just finds ways to brighten your hope so you brighten his, maybe it would make giving other people hope a lot easier. Yes…. Yes, this was a great idea. But to be honest, it’s not all just about hope that makes him want to be closer to you. It’s also because it just feels so fucking good to do so. :) when you wake up, expect to be greeted with a spotless room, some food sitting on the table, and Nagito still wrapped in your arms.
Why do I always fall in love with people who are already taken. It hurts. What makes it worse is that they are the flirty friend ;-;
hiii, if it's not too much, i'd like something soft! MC making some flower crowns with Cheka, answering any questions the little cub has about their uncle's partner & giving Leona the crowns???
Gotcha! Quick note, I didn’t notice my ask inbox wasn’t on so NOW requests are open! Lol, sorry if anyone tried to send asks before and it didn’t work!
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Flower Crowns for a King
Feat. Leona Kingscholar and Cheka
Cheka has lots of questions about his uncles new friend! Why not discuss over flower crowns?
They/Them pronouns for reader. MC is referred to as Yuu.
Likes and reblogs are heavily appreciated
The annoying cub was visiting this weekend. Rather than give up his free time to deal with him, Leona passed on the job to Yuu. The herbivore played with Cheka in the botanical garden while he lounged in his usual nap spot.
Not too long ago, Cheka had bounded over to Yuu with his tiny arms full of flowers, excitedly asking if they knew how to make flower crowns. Now they were sitting close by as they made the crowns. Leona dozed through most of the conversation until he heard his name pop up.
“Unca Leona says you’re a profe—profeshi…” Cheka pouts as he sounds out the word to himself, “p-professional chef? Is that true? You must cook loads of yummy foods!”
“Professional is a stretch. I just enjoy cooking. I did it a lot back home for my family.” Yuu says.
“Oooh! What was your home like?”
“Definitely not as interesting as this place. We don’t have cute little beast boys like you running around!”
Yuu pet Cheka’s head, getting a laugh from the cub. Leona leaned on his hand as he gazed at them, eyes focusing intently on the way Yuu’s fingers moved as he tied chamomiles into a crown. Such small, gentle hands…
“Life back home was kind of boring actually.” They were saying. “I was always so busy taking care of my younger siblings that I never had time to do nice things like this. I didn’t even have any friends.”
A small grunt left Leona’s throat. He wasn’t aware of that fact, not that he ever asked.
“Cheka is your friend now! And Unca Leona is too and you two will get married someday, huh?”
Leona’s ears popped up at that. As Yuu burst out in laughter, he got up and marched over to snatch Cheka up in the air. The cub giggled at that, his little tail swishing around.
“Alright, enough outta you. I gotta take you back to your dad soon.”
“Here, Unca Leona!” Cheka reached up and put his messily made flower crown on the lion’s head. “I made it for you! I chose lotsa pretty colors! Do you like it?”
Leona huffed, blowing a petal out his face. “Sure…”
He glanced up at Yuu as Cheka cheered. They simply smiled and shrugged before placing their own flower crown on Cheka’s head. The cub looked up with stars in his eyes before frowning.
“Yuu Yuu didn’t get a crown though… I can make another one!”
“I’m not waiting around for that.” Leona held Cheka under one arm, the boy giggling hysterically, and bent down to pluck a large yellow flower from its bed. He then placed it in Yuu’s hair. He smirked at the blush that appeared on his herbivore’s face, tilting their chin up with two finger.
“There. You’re royalty too now.”
It was a headache at first. And then the itching—oh the itching! She clawed at her head relentlessly, to no avail. Something other than relief sprouted beneath her fingertips.
But her pain was soothed instead of scorned, her horns met with kindness instead of a knife.
crucifixion
synopsis: perhaps god loves her, but he does not love her enough to save her. or, a character study of eddie's sister and the attemped crucifixion in jason carver's basement. (1.6k) contents: ambiguous ending, character study, religious guilt, bullying, assault, jason carver being a creep, attempted crucifixon, blood, angst, blood again, short and not sweet (inspoed by ethel cain's 'preachers daughter')
masterlist!
the carpet of jason carver's house burns her knees.
she's got a white knuckled grip on his tear stained carpet, fisting handfuls of the fancy material. his sneakers dig into the back of her neck as echoes of laughter ring out through the basement.
her knees are held open from behind, heavy hands grasping the back of her knees, straddling a makeshift cross. andy has her knuckles pinned to the edges of the cross, nails digging into her skin. he smells like cheap beer as he leans over her head, the edges of his letterman swinging into her vision.
on the opposing wall, a high-hanging crucifix of jesus stares back at her. the wood seems to mock her, dripping with blood and splintered, an awfully unrealistic rendition of jesus pinned with nails.
they seem to mimic one another.
while he wore a woven crown of thrones, a harsh mimicking of a crown from the roman soldiers, she wore a hawkins cheer bow, stiff and heavy against her head. the wrap around his waist is blood stained and ill-fitting, much like the pleated skirt around her waist.
she wanted to scream. she wanted to bash her head against the wood underneath her, to escape from the basketball team's unforgiving grip, to flee from the laughter surrounding her.
jason's voice fades in and out of her hearing as blood runs into her ears. he's reading verses, or something similar to the sort, as his voice raises in strength before dying back down.
she had heard whispers of an exorcism floating around the locker room after cheer practice, but she had brushed it off. ever since the earthquake with patrick and chrissy's deaths, satanic allegations had begun to follow her. she had brushed it off, turning a blind-eye to the crosses hanging around her friend's hands when they sat together, had turned a blind eye to the crumpled papers with verses that had been shoved in her locker.
she knew that the allegations had followed eddie much longer. they had begun in eighth grade, sparked to life by the music he listened to and the shirts he wore. an old girlfriend of wayne's had even tried taking him to church, but he had slipped away in the middle of the service.
but now, now she couldn't help but think.
how many times had eddie been threatened with exorcisms by their peers, with their hissing tongues and harsh words? had eddie suffered a similar fate to her?
did they hold him down in his freshman year, dizzy from poorly disguised alcohol in his cup, nauseous from the smell of mrs. carver's candles? did they shove his head against the countertops against he bled, hissing words into his ear, his warm blood getting onto the sleeves of their lettermans?
"jason, please" her throat was sore from screaming. her voice tickled the back of her throat, swallowing around nothing as the pressure from andy's chest sunk onto her back.
as the lapels of andy's letterman brushed against her back, she shivered as she caught sight of her own letterman, crumpled to the floor and trampled by the hawkins basketball team.
"just a little longer munson," jason's shoes settled infront of her face, grasping her cheeks in-between his hands as he crouched in-front of her, holding her leg in-between his bent legs. his class ring dug into the fat of her cheeks as he grinned, "we're just seeing if the devil's got you. we can't save your freak brother, but we can save you"
-
as eddie sat in a theater room, shuffled away in the back of hawkins high, he couldn't help but gnaw at his fingers. something stirred in his gut, making him wince as he watched his fellow teammates shuffle in, each member bringing their respective items.
-
jason lets her go after she recites a few passages from the book of revelation, hoisting her and her makeshift cross against his wall. the rest of the basketball team sat and watched, snickering and laughing as she slumped against the drywall.
andy had pulled her into the back of his truck, speeding down the roads as she clung to the truck bed. he had stopped in the middle of nowhere, drug her out from the back, and sped away before she could even process what had happened.
she stood in the center of the road, blinking at the red break lights as he fled away. the moist air clung to her skin as she stood in the road, unsure of what to do. leaves shuffled around her as she shuffled off to the side of the road, walking along the bike lane.
she's not too sure how long it takes her to walk home, barefoot and bloody as she shuffles along the roads, blinking away shock as she goes.
rocks dig into her feet but she cannot feel anything but the chill seeping into her bones. she wraps her fingers around the rope burn on her right wrist, raw and bloody from her mock crucifixion.
-
she's not too sure when jim hopper picks her up, too focused on the aching pain in her feet.
all she knows is there is no god in hawkins tonight. if there had been a god, he has been gone since her birth.
perhaps there was once a god, watching over her, keeping her safe from harm. but now, now as she walks down the interstate, blood seeping out of her wounds, she knows god has abandoned her.
he has left her to fend for herself. ashamed of the cruelty of his childre, god has left her to suffer in hawkins.
-
wayne's scared.
she can tell from the way his eyebrows are furrowed, brown eyes shining in the dim lighting of the trailer. hopper is holding an old dish rag against her head, applying pressure.
she tries to pull away but his grip on the other side of her head pulls her back. wayne's fiddling with her wrists, turning them in his grasp as they talk back and forth, the words incomprehensible to her ears. her feet still hurt.
she should be in bed. it's a friday after all. dinner is a distant thought in her head, lurking in the back as she tries to remember if she sat their alarm clock for six.
did she have homework?
-
it's almost a new day when eddie finds his way home. the roads are practically barren as the town settles down, majority of lights flickered off.
he expects to find his own home dark, his sister and wayne in their respective beds, preparing for another week. instead, he finds all the lights on, a cop car sitting outside with it's lights still flashing, yet no officer was in the car.
if the front door hadn't been thrown open, with the looming figure of jim hopper barely visible from eddie's van, he would've turned around and ran for the hills.
instead, he's slow to walk up the porch, confusion growing as he spots wayne talking to jim hopper, clutching a bloodied hand towel. wayne barely spares him a glance as he walks in, worry stretching across his face as he turns back to hopper.
then eddie sees her.
she's slumped on the couch, her cheer uniform a crumpled mess on the floor, left in the gold sleeves and briefs the cheerleaders wore underneath their uniforms, her bow uneven and crumpled in her hair.
there's dried blood in her hair, dark and unsightly against her curls, sticking to her forehead and dripping down the side of her neck as she leans against the couch cushions.
there's blood on her wrists and legs, pale skin littered with forming bruises and blood, her eyes are unfocused as they droop, darkened with exhaustion.
he can't seem to breathe past the lump in his throat.
her chest falls in a terrible rhythm, stopping and rising in uneven intervals, mimicking the breathing habits of someone with horrible sleep apnea.
blood is smeared on the floor from her feet, staining the carpeted floor of their trailer as she leans back against the pillows, unaware of eddie's presence.
and he wants to scream.
wayne's hand finds it's way onto the back of his neck, and before eddie can protest, the man is dragging him into his bedroom. with a grimace eddie can't make out, wayne shuts the door, leaving him alone.
but all he can do is sit and think about the blood on the floor.
-
eddie doesn't know how long he sits on wayne's bed before the door creaks open. hopper had left in a flash, sirens blaring down the road as he pulled away from their trailer.
his sister dangles from wayne's arms, cleaned up. bandages seem to cover her entirely, a small bit of tanned skin peeking through the bandages. wayne had even tried his best at a braid.
they don't talk as wayne lies her down on the bed, pushing down eddie's shoulder. it's like a ghost is beside him as she lies silent, unmoving against wayne's comforter. she's swaddled in a jacket that looks unfamiliar to eddie, a long fur coat he had never seen before, stupidly similar to the ones the russians on the televison wore.
her breaths are unsteady, coming out in slow puffs that leave him on edge, constantly waiting for the next, and even as wayne kills the lights and climbs into the other side of the bed, eddie waits for the puff of breath.
-
as he lies in bed, he knows that there is no god in hawkins. there is no god that saved his sister. there is nothing but cruelty and judgement in their town.