#((it's ok she will be fine. I Think. lets go catch that thief and ignore everything else :D)) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dorimena · 3 years

Note

Hi, I love your work and if your requests are open would you consider the following?

Monoma is on patrol with y/n and Monoma being well....Monoma, he was horny and was teasing y/n. Not having any of this shit, she proceeds to dom the fuck out of him during patrol. She takes him into an alleyway and fucks him with a strap that she had on her already (she was already planning on something but didn’t go through with it because work is work and she’s aware that Monoma and her could take their time when they got home). She pushes him into the wall and fucks him silly. Monoma is loving it and keeps begging “Mommy fuck me more, please!”. She gives him what he wants but she tells him to be quiet or else the bystanders would fine their great Phantom Thief in a puddle of his own cum while getting fucked by his mommy. At some point two civilians hear Monoma panting and hiccuping and get concerned. Y/n keeps fucking him and reassures them that Phantom Thief is fine. He cums then and there and she tells him to reassure the civilians that he’s ok. Monoma whimpers out that he’s fine and y/n cleans him up and cuddles him in the alleyway telling him how much of a good boy he was.

(I’ve been thinking about this ever since I read your shower blowjob story. This man makes the dom in me go crazy. He’s already a whining bitch, having him be like that in the bedroom just- 😫)

Let me say that I’ve had a scene in my head almost the same as this one you sent me and I am absolutely thrilled because yessss more attention to bratty baby Monoma ٩(♡ε♡)۶

And honestly, this man is just asking for it. Bet he wants to fucked anywhere, anytime, as long as he's put back into his place. That's his kink-

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; Monoma Neito

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 3.5k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; fem!reader, pegging, mommy kink, slight exhibitionism, public sex, mentioned sex toy (butt plug), implied overstimulation, multiple orgasms, implied after care, domme!reader, sub!character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; begging, humiliation, Monoma being a little shit, because he wanted your attention, and to rile the fuck out of you, aged-up character: Monoma is 20+

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; I unknowingly kind of changed a few things from the ask, like the conversation between Monoma and the bystanders, but I hope you like it anon! The ending is kind of rushed, sorry about that!

𝕭𝖊𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆 𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍 𝖎𝖘 𝖒𝖞 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖐

“Now, now, y/n, you know ignoring someone, specifically the love of your life, is a crime? How else are you to beg for my love if you go on and ignore my graceful presence? Are you listening to me? At least lend me your attention.”

He’s been like this for the past couple of hours since you’ve both been assigned together for patrol. You thought it’d be a good idea, and Monoma was also excited when your boss told you both to get ready and head to the neighborhood you’re meant to keep a watch over.

The neighborhood turned out not as empty or quiet as you expected, rather close to a busy street. Some stores and restaurants seem to align themselves around this area.

You thought things would go smoothly, go even better and much quicker now that you and your boyfriend are finally patrolling together, months since you’ve transferred to this agency from your old one.

But Monoma’s been leaving any and every snide remark since you two stepped foot into the area, teasing you for any small mistake he believes should be (loudly) called out for or simply trying to mess up your way of doing things.

You don’t even want to count how many times he’s criticized the way your hero outfit currently looks on you. And no, you’re not getting insecure, but rather more… cautious.

There’s a reason why the uniform seems a bit odd around your crotch, but he doesn’t need to know that, not here, not now. Maybe until you both get home-

You trip, almost falling flat on your face if it weren’t for your boyfriend quickly grabbing you, pulling you up to your feet as he looks at you with panic before it quickly dissipates to his stupid mockery.

“See? You cannot do anything right, not without me at least. You, my dear, cannot live without me yet you still ignored me. This is what I mean when you should listen to me. Anyone would truly be grateful for having me, Phantom Thief, as their beloved lover.”

That’s it. You usually can take so much of his weird comments, but right now he’s pulling anything out of his ass at this point. (Soon you’ll see what actually comes out.)

You don’t answer, just look around to make sure no one is watching as you grab him by his stupid tie, dragging him to the nearest alleyway you remember passing by, glad it’s still pretty empty and dark enough to hide your bodies in the shadows.

He isn’t even struggling, just letting you walk him as if he’s a dog, quietly following you. If you were to turn around, you’d see the way his eyes are wide yet full of lust, his pupils dilated as he mentally cheers, thanking the gods for listening to his horny prayers of being sucked in an alleyway.

Do you know how hard it was for him to not jump you and beg you to help him? All because of how sexy you look in your hero outfit, how the small fixes and modifications bring out more of your body, the body he loves, yearns, desires, every day and night. Hopefully you don’t find his surprise before he can debut it once you guys are back home. (But unintentionally came prepared.)

He’s a complete fool for you, but you can’t know that, or else it’ll be the end of-

“Monoma Neito. You have 5 seconds to tell me why the fuck you’re being a piece of shit tonight.”

He didn’t realize his back is against a cold wall or how you’ve trapped him between your arms, the way you’re glaring at him while counting down in such a low tone, it makes his legs feel weak and threaten to buckle..

“Horny.” He barely whispers, crazed eyes never leaving your face as he stays still, trying to control his breathing and heartbeat as you scan him from head to toe, eyes finally staying in place where his boner is visible, even with how poor the lighting is.

You grin, but not your usual friendly grin or familiar flirty grin, but the ‘I’m gonna fuck you till you die’ kind of grin.

And Monoma’s both terrified yet super, duper much more hornier than before. But, with what are you going to fuck him with?

In a flash, he’s suddenly turned around, his clothed-covered chest pressing against the wall as he feels your hands make quick work on his belt, on his pants, pulling them down to rest on his thighs. He hisses and shivers when the cold air hits every exposed part of him, yet makes his dick twitch in interest.

You also free your bottom half to finally let out the strap on you’ve luckily managed to hide until now, searching your pockets for the small tube of lube you brought with you, just in case.

But when you spread his butt cheeks, you gasp in surprise with the butt plug he’s wearing, going to grab the toy as you slowly pull it out in disbelief.

Did he know?

“I-I want you to know you’re not the, um, only one to be prepared for what they want.” Monoma speaks, but in such a soft tone that it has you wondering if he’s the same person who had pestered you since the beginning of the patrol, the same boyfriend you love who has a talent for being loved and hated simultaneously by various people.

But at least he didn’t know. He simply decided to take this extra mile.

Cute. No wonder he’s such a good boy for mommy… sometimes.

“Then I guess I shouldn’t prepare you, right?”

You don’t wait for his response, not when you dispose of the toy away from you both, and you make quick work to lube up your silicone cock.

Monoma doesn’t get to ask you about the wet sounds behind him, or ask where you threw his butt plug before you’re entering him. You felt how his body jolted, his back arching enough to push his ass back more towards you.

You land a smack against the smooth skin, listening how the impact echoes in the empty alleyway and the way he whimpers in pain.

“You’re such a slut for mommy, aren’t you Monoma?”

“Yes!”

No hesitation.

Monoma usually sounds hesitant whenever you two do something new, as if he evaluates the pros and cons from anything and everything, figuring out if he’ll come out benefitted or you.

But he sounds desperate, shameless. He sounds like he’s ready to cry.

New, but not too surprising. When he wants to, he’ll always be a good boy for his mommy.

“Want to tell mommy again why you were being a little bitch tonight?”

Never mind, his hesitation came back, his mouth pressed shut as you peek at him, trying to catch a glimpse at his periwinkle eyes, wondering what’s taking him so long to answer. He answered you so easily, so quickly a few minutes ago.

You hear a soft mumble, see his lips move but no sound gets to your ears. So you spank him once more, hearing his cute squeak and the way he fucks back.

“Louder.”

“I wanted mommy to fuck me! Fuck me until I can’t walk! Fuck me until I’m just your stupid little hole! Please? I’ll-I’ll be good now, I promise!”

If anyone were to ask you just how stupid Monoma gets when he’s completely horny and turned on, this is a prime example. His usual eloquent vocabulary? Gone. It doesn’t exist once mommy’s pleasing him.

But he’s also promising about being good? Let’s see how good he’ll be then.

No more words are exchanged, just the soft desperate pants of the pretty blond and some small airy whines that leave his mouth in anticipation for what you’ll do next.

You don’t even start slow, you go absolutely feral.

He barely gets to inhale one last deep breath until you’re fucking that out of his lungs, his head turning to look back at you as best he could as his body begins hitting the wall in front of him, his clothes rubbing against the roughness of the bricked exterior of the unknown building. He lifts head enough to not get itself hit against the wall and his hands are clawing at the bricks desperately, trying to find leverage to hold on tightly, his brain struggling to catch up with how vicious yet delicious you’re fucking him.

When he does remember he’s a human who can speak words, he cries out “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” in such high pitches, it sounds like he’s singing, probably trying to continue seducing you into such a horny haze. His pent-up sexual frustration must have been infectious, with how you find yourself being merciless with him and his ass, your hips slamming into the back of his in such a brutal pace you wonder if the skin will bruise, if he’ll be able to sit or walk properly.

Probably not, but that’s the point, isn’t it?

Your baby boy wanted you to fuck the living shit out of him, so that’s what you’ll do, it’s what you’re best at doing.

Fuck the annoyance out of him so that when you guys get home, he passes out.

You momentarily forget you guys are very much still in public and even if it’s night, civilians are very much still awake and walking, either going back home or going to work, maybe hang out with their friends or find themselves a sub to fuck.

Monoma doesn’t even warn you that he’s cumming, not even his loud, prolonged whine of your name gets your attention. But with how he’s spasming around your toy, how his hips are twitching quickly in between your hands, his eyes that never left from looking at you crossing…

Yeah, since you missed that orgasm and you’re not in the mood to exactly punish him, why not fuck him some more until he can’t remember his name and only yours?

You briefly pause, the tip of the toy the only thing still inside of him as one of your hands rubs circles on his lower back and the other remains on his hip.

Through the panting, Monoma lets out a whine, one that sounds almost disappointed. Probably because he came far quicker than what either of you two expected, or because it feels like you’re pulling out already and calling it a night.

No words are exchanged as you watch him catch his breath for a bit more, memorizing how rosy his cheeks and nose look, how the blush looks like it’s on his neck while his white pupils are fully dilated, oozing his adoration for you.

When you hear him suck in a breath, whether he’s preparing a sentence or to finish pulling himself off the toy, you slam back into him, grinning like a maniac upon feeling how his whole body jumped, going back into action and having blood pump everywhere in him, mostly towards his reawakening dick.

And you slam, slam, slam, slamming into him at such a steady pace, making sure to roll your hips the way you know will make him start squealing in such a girly tone, or like a dirty pig he sometimes becomes.

And once you feel him begin to push back on you and one of his hands leave the wall, you lean forward, pushing his body more up on the wall. He’s bent too much, it’s obvious you’re fucking him doggy style. What if people decide to go through this alley?

He obeys but whines in complaint, not wanting you to stop your ministrations as he pulls himself together, standing up as much as he could as to leave his lower back still bent for you.

“Keep your hands on the wall or else I’ll leave you here like this.”

He loves it when you speak to him in such a low voice, in such a way that you know makes him want to suck your cock for days until his jaw hurts. He puts his hands back on the wall, both placed where his face is at, acting as support as he rests his forehead there. His neck hurts a bit from how long he’s been straining to look at you.

You go back to fucking him, going back to what you were doing, moaning his name repeatedly to keep riling him up, arouse him and make him start begging for you to go faster, harder, deeper, make him dirty.

And he does with loud wails, ones that have you freezing and stopping all together, slapping a hand on his mouth and whispering how he should quiet down, unless he wants to be whored to other people.

“Be mommy’s good boy and keep quiet. Unless you want someone else’s cock.”

“No! No muh-mommy! Only y-yours~ Please!” He moans, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he impatiently grinds against you, feeling how sticky his thighs are getting with sweat and some of his cum and precum, somehow.

“Mommy, fuck me more, please!” He whimpers so cutely, so pathetically, so melodically you’re sure he somehow copied someone’s siren quirk, because your head feels dizzy, your heart is beating erratically and your hips sync with the pulse, forgetting about being consistent with speed, with roughness, with how deep you reach inside of him.

Fucking him silly until he’s trying his best to muffle his screams and cries into the back of his hands pressed on the wall, his fingers trying so hard to find solace on them, to grasp the reality of him being defiled in an empty, dirty alleyway, pressed so ruthlessly against a wall he doesn’t know how exactly dirty it could be.

Monoma’s hiccuping your name until you spank him, growling softly how that’s not who you are, making him wail out “Mommy! Cumming!” in such an erotic way, you wonder if you’re fucking your boyfriend or a girl with how he’s managed to reach such an incredible pitch.

You keep going, and even when he’s done cumming, you don’t stop impaling him, and a hand goes to wrap itself around his dick, trying your best to match this chaotic fucking, hearing how he’s struggling to breath, to comprehend this painful yet electrifying pleasure.

His toes are curling in his shoes, his knees don’t stop buckling, his hips never stop trying to meet with yours, the burn of overstimulation flowing through his veins yet motivating his dick to keep going, to keep obeying, to not disappoint mommy.

Monoma’s speaking gibberish, babbling whatever nonsense and begging he could think of or come to make up, the tips of his fingers turning white with how hard they’re pressing against the bricks as he tries to not fall. He’s not sure how or why he’d fall, but with how you’re touching him, squeezing him, stroking him, playing with him, he’s ready to give into the inquiry of whether being a househusband would have you fucking him like this everyday.

It’s a weird thought, one he’s never had before, one that’s still early to even care about-

Oh my god you’re abusing his prostate!

He’s seeing stars, planets, flashing strobe lights and envisioning his uproaring third orgasm, mouth hung open stupidly as whiny sobs and strangled cries escape him, trying his best to keep quiet like you said but he can’t!

“Feels s’ good!” He slurs, once again turning his head to look at you, eyes completely wet as tears fall in graceful droplets, hair messed up and drool staining a bit of his chin.

And just as you were going to respond, you heard footsteps.

You both freeze: you’re halfway out of him while Monoma’s struggling to not let his coughing fit be heard, having swallowed his saliva far too quickly with the scare.

The sounds stop, but now you both can hear a female voice.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

Monoma whimpers, embarrassed.

So this is how he’ll get caught and shamed.

This is the end of his career.

But you’re not having it, not with how his dick has stopped twitching and is starting to soften.

You’re not done yet, and neither is he.

“Answer, Monoma.” You harshly whisper, wiping your thumb over his hypersensitive tip, making him hiccup loudly before composing himself as best he could.

“Y-yes? It-It is I, Phantom Thief- ooh~”

Another voice pitches in.

“Phantom Thief? The Phantom Thief?!”

“Y-Yes!” Monoma squeaks out, trying to cover up his gasp as you begin to slowly fuck him, making sure to keep hitting him straight to the prostate, amused how he’s gripping his jaw, muffling his hiccups while frantically shaking his head, begging you with his eyes to no, no, please!

The two bystanders gasp, seemingly walking more towards where you and Monoma are, making you press him more into the wall, hoping the angle you’re both in and the small hiding spot is enough to keep you hidden.

“We’re huge fans of yours! But, um, are you alright? We heard someone crying.”

“Fuck!” Monoma whimpers, struggling to keep his breathing in check as you continue to move, even rolling your palm all over his tip, your other hand going to pull at one of his nipples.

“What was that?”

“N-nothing! I’m fin- ugh~”

“You… sure?”

“YES!”

Monoma yells, back arching as his head touches your shoulder, eyes rolling up this head as he’s torn between pushing back or bucking forwards, feeling his body submerged in such an intense heat, in such shame, in such pathetic desperation to cum, he’s begging you in quick hushed moans to please, pretty please, make him cum, he wants to cum, needs to cum again.

“And your fans?” You whisper teasingly, feeling how he shivers with how close your breath is near his ear.

“Fu-uck my fans-”

“Now now, that’s something you never said before. Did I fuck Monoma Neito out of you?”

And you go back with the brutal pace, not caring if the other two bystanders can hear what’s going on, not caring if they come out traumatized or probably aroused with how obvious it is that their dear Phantom Thief is getting fucked in a shady place, in a nasty place, yet he’s silently wailing and convulsing with everything you’re giving him.

Your hand soon enough gets sticky with what little cum his poor, weak body produced, his hole clenching tightly around your strap-on while his hands fly back to grasp any part of you that he could reach, which ended up being your head.

The bystanders speak again while Monoma’s busy wheezing his gratitude.

“Are you sure you’re alright? We could call the police-”

“I’m alright! ‘m fine~” He managed to sing-song, but if you heard a bit of his whimper seep from the last word, you don’t say anything, simply slow down your stroking before pausing.

You hear their footsteps slowly go back towards where they probably came from, making Monoma let out shaky exhales of relief and satisfaction, small giggles slipping from time to time as you kiss his neck, his cheek, his jawline.

And once you are certain you’re both alone again, you slowly pull out of him, helping him to turn around so that his back presses against the wall.

Until he grimaces.

“My essence is, from my deduction, splattered on this disgusting wall.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you point down to where his pants are, laughing harder when you see how his grimace turns into a face of disgust, horror, shame, surprise, arousal- wait what?

You don’t question the last one, simply letting out the last of your giggles while you search for the disinfectant wipes you tend to carry with you in your utility belt. And once they’ve been found, you make him lick your cum-covered hand first before properly passing a wipe. You hand Monoma one so that he cleans his face if needed, disinfect his hands, his thighs, anywhere he thought he needed to clean.

No, that's a lie. You took care of his thighs and pelvis, trying your best to clean the spots where his cum reached his pants before peppering a few gentle kisses around his exposed skin.

Pulling his briefs and pants up, buttoning, zipping, fasting his belts. You let out a happy sigh, fixing his hair and tie.

You then fix yourself.

“Who’s mommy’s good boy, Monoma?”

He somehow managed to chirp. “I am, mommy.”

“Then, you’ll stop being a bitch tonight, right? Mommy made sure to fuck it out of you.”

“Oh, um,” aw, he’s blushing. “I suppose…”

When you both walk away from the much-more defiled wall, you hold back an amused snort with how Monoma seems too unstable with his feet, how his legs seem to shake with every step he tries to take and how frustrated he looks with how uncooperative his body is.

You decide that chilling and cuddling in that corner wouldn’t be so bad, and considering how your shift ended minutes ago, you doubt either you or Monoma will get into trouble.

#✿; impurity #⏱ Monoma brain rot #bnha smut #monoma neito smut #monoma smut #sub monoma neito #sub bnha #mha smut #ლ; blasphemy #𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖒𝖆

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red1culous · 3 years

Text

Here and Now part 1

For @blackwidowscj-pc

Carol holds a map in between her teeth as she chucks a box filled to the brim with your things into the backseat of her car. Her hair has grown out slightly and there is a side wisp that sticks with sweat to the side of her face. She removes the map from her mouth and tucks it into her back pocket. Grinning at you she pulls the bottom of her AC/DC t-shirt up to wipe the sweat on her brow. You shoot her a thankful smile and quickly peel your eyes away from her exposed midriff.

“Is that Tony’s shirt?” you ask busying yourself packing the smaller items into the car.

She looks down at it and shrugs feigning ignorance.

“He’s going to kill you for stealing that, you know” you add tossing a tic tac box at her. She catches it with ease and pockets it.

“He has a million of these things. He won’t miss one if it mysteriously disappears” she leans against the boot of the car and grins. Her eyes sparkled like sunlight on a lake and you silently acknowledged that she did look devilishly handsome. And if it weren’t for your other attachments you might’ve even acted on her advances towards you. It was after all an open secret that Carol Danvers had the hots for you. But for now, she was there as your shoulder to cry on and nothing more.

“Didn’t know my best friend was a thief” you chuckle as you climb into the passenger seat, “come on klepto we got places to be and this death mobile won’t drive itself.”

She groans at your insult as she piles into the drivers seat and starts the engine. She lets it hum and settle for a few seconds before turning towards you. “You sure you wanna do this, babe?”

You nod. “I’m sure, Carol.”

“You don’t look sure” she adds.

“Jesus, I’m sure, Carol” you answer.

“You sure you don’t wanna sleep on it? Think about it some more?” she prods this time her eyes search yours for any hint of hesitance.

“Carol. Seriously? I’ve been sleeping on this for 8 months in an empty bed. If Nat was going to come back she would’ve told me or sent a message or a smoke signal…or, or something. Instead she disappears without a trace and what am I supposed to do? Keep crying myself to sleep? Keep sending her messages she doesn’t read? Plus haven’t you been bothering me to move in with you. I mean if you’ve changed your mind I can just go to Clint’s farm and…” you scold but she cuts you off with a gentle hand on your thigh.

“I still want you to move in with me but I just want to be sure that you’re sure, you know” she says softly as she takes one of your hands in hers. “I mean this is you and Nat, you know.”

The awareness of an ending or of a beginning settles heavy in the space around the both of you. You roll down the window a crack as if that would help ease the pressure that had built up. You knew what you were doing and while moving in with Carol might not have been the best of plans, you couldn’t possibly keep living alone in the apartment you shared with Natasha’s ghost. “Let’s go Romeo before I change my mind.”

Carol’s place wasn’t big by any means. You had to get used to the space moving from a large 4 bedroom penthouse to an 1500 square foot apartment. Adjusting was by no means an easy feat. You had to give away quite a few things, had a yard sale and worked quite a bit to downsize. But by the 4th month of your stay there, it had started to feel like home.

“Hey did you hear me?” Carol says as she pokes her head into your bedroom.

You hastily wipe at your eyes before turning to face her. “Sorry what did you say?”

“Heyyyy…” she smiles sympathetically before taking the few strides needed to hop onto your bed and pull you into her side, “…what’s with the waterworks?”

“I was looking for my library card and instead found Nat’s old things” you sob and wipe at your tear stained cheeks. Chuckling a little you pick up an old photo and show it to Carol. “This is so stupid. I mean she’s out there not even sparing a thought about me and I’m here crying over…well…nothing.”

Carol fishes the old shoebox out of your lap and places it behind you. Her mouth is pulled into a thin line as she grabs a tissue box from the bedside table. “First of all” she sighs, “you’re probably the only person I know who has a library card.” You let out a wet laugh as you blow your nose. “I’m probably the only person you know who can read” you sass back and she shoves you a little. “Secondly,” she adds crossing her legs under herself and fully facing you. You mirror her pose and she smiles brightly. “I made us lasagna and bought that overpriced chocolate indulgence cake you like so much from Ben’s Cafe so you have to stop crying right now.”

Your forehead creases in question. “You made lasagna?”

Carol turns very red in the face and waves her hands in the air as if she were trying to catch an invisible fish. “Ok fine! I got it from Ben’s too.”

“Thought so” you say grabbing her hands and holding them in yours. It’s only when she locks eyes with you that you notice how close you are to her. Mere inches separate the both of you. You can feel her hot breath on your face. You go to move away but she tightens her hold on you.

“Carol…” you warn.

“Tell me you don’t want to” she breathes. She waits a few seconds before caressing her lips against yours. She tastes like cocoa and berries. That was your first surprised, thought. Not something you ever imagined Carol would taste like. And her lips are soft. She moves her hands to the top your knees and finally rests them cupping your face. Surprised and dazed you find yourself kissing back. As the kiss deepens you find yourself spelling out a name silently with your lips. Carol tugs at the hairs on the nape of your neck and you have to focus to not lose yourself in the kiss. N - A - T - A - S … you’re spelling her name.

“Stop. Stop. Stop” you separate yourself from Carol with a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry I can’t do-“ you rush out the words.

“No Y/N it’s my fault I shouldn’t have…” she motions between the two of you. She coughs nervously and wipes her lower lip with the back of her hand. “Come on” she rises from your bed and smooths the imaginary creases on her pants, “lasagna’s gonna get cold.”

“Carol I’m-“ you go to add but she cuts you off.

“Babe it’s fine” she smiles reaching out her hands to you. You gladly accept them and she pulls you to your feet.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

“One thing you should know about me,” she says as she wraps an arm over your shoulder and walks you out of the room and into the eating area, “I’m always trying my luck.”

◍

“I can’t just call him out of a meeting. You know this. And you’re not supposed to be calling this number unless it’s an emergency.”

“Hill…we are in the middle of briefing 4 Presidents…”

“Sir it’s for you.”

“It had better be a goddamn emergency…who is this?” …

“You’re not supposed to be calling this number un-” …

“That damn well doesn’t count as an emergency.” … ...

“Are you sure?” ...

“Fine get it done.”

“Sir?”

“Get the extraction team ready. The Russian’s coming home.”

----

Tagging: @thewidowintheweb @natasharomanoffismywife @imnotasuperhero @cybeleceto @silverwing2522 @thelastavenger-3000 @peggycarter-steverogers @rooskaya-yelena @blackwidowromonoff @lesbian-x-blackwidow @nowthisisliving27 @izalesbean @aaron-despair @marvelfansince08love @rileigh519 @wannabe-fic-reader @hcartbyheart @marvel-randomness @thewitchandtheassassin @username23345 @xixxiixx @rebeliz777 @summergeezburr @frostedfavesmain @higherfurther-romanova @sapphicluxanna @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @madamevirgo @an-evergreen-rose @chicken-wang09

#natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #redfic #here and now #natasha romanoff x fem!reader

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amjustagirl · 4 years

Text

Summary: She may mean the world to Iwaizumi Hajime but at the end of the day, Oikawa Tooru is his star.

AO3 Link here

Sequel: Broken Compass

She used to think the universe intended for her to literally crash into one Iwaizumi Hajime.

One of her first assignments as a writer for one of the country’s top sports magazines was to cover the Japanese volleyball team’s season, and despite constant reminders from her editors not to screw this up because the men’s volleyball team is crazy popular these days, she manages to trip over her own feet and knock not just herself, but the newly minted team trainer to the ground.

When she lifts her head from the ground, the first thing that hits her mind is - goodness, he’s hot - he’s a veritable god among men, all sinewy muscles and sunkissed skin, and she can’t bring herself to speak as he carefully checks her once over for any signs of injury. ‘Are you alright?’ he asks her, and she nods dumbly as he pulls her to her feet and waves her off with a warm smile. The heat from his hands lingers on her skin long after she goes to bed that night.

They meet again at the next match. He remembers her name, she gives him a friendly wave. Then at the next match, she cheekily asks for his comments and he huffs a laugh as he directs her to the team’s PR manager. By the end of the season, she works up the courage to ask him out for coffee, and he says yes .

Iwaizumi Hajime is everything she dreamt of in a partner - kind, caring, steady, his feet firmly planted on the ground. He always wraps his arm around her to pull her close when they walk along the edge of the road, and indulges her pleas for an extra cuddle – ‘ the last one, I promise! ’ - every morning when he leaves for work. They exchange long text messages late into the night when either of them are on the road, and nag each other for working too hard. When they lay in bed at night, he whispers promises filled with love against her skin, tells her he can trace the constellations in her eyes.

It makes it so easy for her to close her eyes and believe that their love is written in the stars, so a year later when he asks her to marry him, she doesn’t hesitate to jump into his arms and say yes . The weight of the silver band he slips on her finger grounds her with his love, and her heart is full.

She can’t stop feeling like a thief who’s snatched the sun from the sky.

Oikawa Tooru is to be his best man of course.

She knows who he is, she’s covered the sport long enough to have heard about him - the prodigious setter from Miyagi who never made it once to Nationals despite his obvious talent (an exquisitely crafted katana is, after all, no match for the brute force of a cannon), who spit in the face of fate and chased his dreams to sunnier lands.

Iwaizumi has always been awfully fond of regaling her with stories of Oikawa, so much so that she thinks she can piece together their relationship - childhood friends turned longtime teammates, the long suffering ace and the monstrously brilliant setter. She watches his face soften uncharacteristically when he reads news about his old friend winning a match, and hardens when Oikawa whines loudly during their video calls about his bruises and sore knee. She can’t help but think Iwaizumi must have been like Jupiter, a god in his own right, drawn into orbit around Oikawa, a star burning over-bright.

She knows they remain best friends despite their separation by whole continents, keeping in contact via video calls and text messages, playing hopscotch with the time difference. They certainly look like it when they greet each other at the airport, Oikawa trilling a playful ‘ Iwa-channn’ and Iwaizumi grunting at him to ‘shut up, they’re in public, dumbass!’, exchanging back slaps so loud it makes her wince.

‘You must be the poor fiancee’, Oikawa gives her an exaggerated leer as he stands before her, hands on hips. ‘What did Iwa-chan drug you with to get you to marry him? Do you know he snores like a monster in his sleep? You know you can back out before the wedding right? Blink once if you’re ok, and twice if you’re not - and I’ll help you escape from him.’

Before she can respond to that frankly impertinent speech, Iwaizumi roars ‘Shut-up, Shittykawa’, tackling him into a headlock and wrestling him off into their car. She stifles a laugh as they spend the rest of the ride to Oikawa’s hotel room bickering back and forth.

‘How did you manage to pack so much luggage for a two week stay, you vain piece of crap!’

‘I care about my looks and grooming - unlike some of us who skulk around in clothes they’ve worn since high school!’

‘Vainpot.’

‘Beast.’

‘Piece of shit’

‘Meanie’

Iwaizumi alternates between grunting and growling at Oikawa’s nonsense but his eyes are shining (so bright that she can see stars) and Oikawa’s retorts are punctuated with smiles that are impossibly wide. She thinks to herself it’ll be good for Iwaizumi to have Oikawa around.

Oikawa starts to call her ‘ Chibi-chan ’ especially when Hajime is around to be annoyed by it – she admits she’s short, but not that short, it’s just that he spends most of his time surrounded by literal giants - and develops an irritating habit of ambushing her with quizzes about Hajime's likes and dislikes.

'Favourite food?'

'Agedashi tofu.'

'Favourite movie?'

'Godzilla.’

After a few rounds of these pop quizzes, she looks at him like he's sprouted a second head. ‘Seriously, Oikawa-san, we're getting married in less than two weeks. Do you seriously think I wouldn't know the most obvious things about my own fiancé?'

'Don't frown, Chibi-chan, you'll grow wrinkles and look old', he sing songs at her. 'I'm just making sure you're worthy of Iwa-chan's love!'

'Stop bullying my fiancée, Shittykawa, or I'll beat you up so bad you can't move'. Iwaizumi rubs lazy circles against her back, and she leans against him comfortably.

'Aww Iwa-chan, once a bone head, always a bone head’, Oikawa says, scrunching his face into a mock-sniff. ‘Say, Chibi-chan, do you know Iwa-chan would beat me up ‘til I let go all the cicadas we caught, but if they died, he would cry?'

‘Are you calling me a crybaby, Shittykawa’, Iwaizumi growls dangerously, simmering down only when she coos at him, ‘that’s so cute, you must have been such a sweet child’.

Then, sensing that her presence is probably stopping the boys from catching up fully, she shoos them out of the apartment on the premise that they should get some fresh air and cool off but really so they can get some much needed time together. ‘ And stop fighting’ , she calls after them, making good use of the quiet to busy herself with wedding preparations.

When Iwaizumi finally returns home late that night, he finds her asleep on the couch, and with a soft smile he curls up around her. ‘Hajime?’ she breathes, nuzzling her nose into his neck, and he has to bite back the urge to cover her face with kisses, tightening his hold on her instead.

‘I’m back’, he whispers, his breath warm against her neck. ‘Sorry I was out so long’.

‘It’s fine’, she mumbles sleepily. ‘Did you guys have fun?’

‘Yeah - we went for dinner and then Oikawa dragged me to at least five different bakeries to find the perfect milk bread before he was willing to go for drinks’, he complains. ‘And he made me promise to go for drinks with Issei and Hanamaki tomorrow afternoon before we meet with the wedding coordinator’.

‘Mm’, she hums absently. ‘Oikawa seemed a little on edge earlier. I’m glad he calmed down and had fun with you’.

Iwaizumi frowns into her hair, thinking back to Oikawa’s inexplicable needling of her earlier. ‘Sweetheart, if Oikawa is irritating you, I'll make him stop’.

‘It’s fine’, she says, with a little more force than she intended, waving away the concerned look he gives her. ‘He’s your best friend, Hajime. I think he's just feeling a little insecure. You should spend more time with him while you still can’.

He grins and kisses her warmly. ‘You’re too good to me. What did I do to deserve you?’

‘Because the universe willed that I love you’, she answers, as if it were the most obvious thing on earth.

But Oikawa manages to find a way to wreck her well made plans.

Iwaizumi finds her in the kitchen, back turned towards him, and the slam of the dishes on the counter makes him wince. ‘I’m sorry, sweetheart’, he tells her, wincing when she shrugs off his hand.

'You skipped our appointment with our wedding coordinator', she hisses, whirling around to face him. ‘But that’s not the worst of it - do you know how scared I was when you didn’t pick up my calls? I thought you got hurt or heaven forbid - got run over by a car and died, Hajime!’

‘I’m sorry’, he repeats, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. 'I got engrossed in catching up with Hanamaki and Issei, and Oikawa stole my phone so I lost track of time. I kicked his ass for it, you could've heard him whining about it from outer space’. He slyly slides an arm around her waist, resisting her attempts to pull away as he buries his nose in her hair. ‘I'll make it up to you, I promise'.

'Make sure you do', she huffs, leaning into his warmth. ‘And what was Oikawa’s reason for stealing your phone?’

‘You know Shittykawa, he probably thought he was being cute. I’ll make him apologise,’ Hajime replies, pressing his nose into the crook of her neck.

She relaxes a fraction, breathing in his familiar scent - fresh linen and pine and home, but that doesn't ease the knot of something - she can't quite put her finger on what it is just yet - weighing down in her chest.

True to his word, Iwaizumi drags Oikawa by his ear to lunch with them the next day, not letting go until he apologises to her with an appropriately chastened expression on his face. ‘I’m sorry, Chibi-chan, I shan’t do it again’, he tells her contritely, but when Iwaizumi’s back is turned, he shoots her a puckish grin brimming with mischief that makes her toes curl.

She ignores him, and lets herself be drawn into the flow of their conversation - Oikawa complaining incessantly about Ushijima Wakatoshi and Kageyama Tobio whom she’s met many times in the past few months and he shoots her dirty looks when she archly tells him that she thinks they’re lovely men, Iwaizumi getting on Oikawa’s case again for not eating enough, for not sleeping enough, barely able to restrain himself from violence when Oikawa responds with a trilled ‘ Iwa-chan, you sound like my mother ’.

The conversation meanders off to their Seijoh teammates she’s not terribly familiar with, so she’s caught off guard when Oikawa abruptly turns to her with shit-eating grin and asks innocently ‘Say, Chibi-chan, what about Iwa-chan caught your eye?’

‘Have you looked at him?’ she says, playfully nudging a blushing Iwaizumi with her elbow. ‘He’s built like a god.’

Oikawa’s smile turns sickly sweet, showing far too much teeth. ‘In that case, I’m surprised you didn’t go for one of the volleyball players instead. Or was Iwa-chan your last attempt? You’re twenty-five this year, after all.’

A glance in Iwaizumi’s direction shows her exactly what she expects - first, his mouth drops open in a wide-eyed, open mouthed gape, then fury burns white hot across his face, and she has to grab his hand before he causes a scene by throwing himself bodily across the table to strangle the smirk off Oikawa’s face. ‘I can fight my own battles’, she mouths at him, willing him to stay in his seat, her hand still pressed firmly against his.

‘Well, you did ask me what first attracted me to Hajime, and I didn’t lie - I was really drawn by his looks’.

She inhales and lets herself be drawn back to the warmth of the memory of tumbling head first into Iwaizumi’s arms, and exhales to look squarely at Oikawa. ‘But then I fell for his kindness, his steadfastness, his patience - and when he told me he loved me, I felt as if the universe had handed me the sun, the moon and the stars’.

Her answer must have touched Oikawa’s shrivelled little heart, she thinks to herself, because something in his eyes shutters and a look of respect streaks across his face. ‘Well said, Chibi-chan, well said’, he says begrudgingly. ‘Iwa-chan is lucky to have you’.

The rest of lunch passes without incident, and when she and Iwaizumi are finally back home, he corners her as she’s about to go to bed and asks quietly - ‘Sweetheart, did you really mean all of that?’

‘Of course I do. I love you, Hajime. Do you need me to count the ways?’

‘Maybe’, he responds playfully, circling his arms around her as she pulls him to bed. She lies in his embrace, ear pressed to his chest and falls asleep to the steady thrum of his heartbeat, the ebb and flow of his breath, the rise and fall of his chest.

When Iwaizumi calls out that he’ll be gone to the bar down the street for an hour or two to vet Oikawa’s best man speech, she certainly did not expect him to burst back into their flat with Oikawa held bridal style in his arms. It would have been a comical sight - Oikawa’s bulky frame dwarfing even Iwaizumi, legs looking ludicrously long dangling over Iwaizumi’s arms - but for the frantic expression of Iwaizumi’s face and the desperate way Oikawa clings to Iwaizumi’s neck.

‘Idiot bumped his knee while doing shots’, Iwaizumi explains to her distractedly, as he settles Oikawa onto their couch. ‘I don’t think it’s serious, but I’ll take him to the doctor in the morning to check him out just in case. Brought him to our place since it’s closer than his hotel room, and I can keep an eye on him overnight’.

She hands him an ice pack. ‘Why don’t you two take our bed, and I’ll take the couch? He’ll be more comfortable that way, and you can watch over him at night.’

‘Are you sure?’ Iwaizumi frowns, and she nods, pushing him towards his friend while she turns to fetch a set of spare pyjamas for their unexpected guest. Iwaizumi lifts Oikawa to their bed and together, they strip him of his clothes and, mindful of his knee, gingerly slide him into clean clothes.

‘Iwa-chan’, she hears the lanky setter whine as she makes to leave the room to bring an extra ice pack. Turning her head, she catches a glimpse of Hajime bending over Oikawa’s form. She’s not sure if it’s a trick of the light, but she swears she saw Iwaizumi brush his fingers against Oikawa’s forehead with a quiet tenderness he’s only ever shown to her, tucking his hair behind his ears. For some reason, it makes her heart clench.

She’s gathering the discarded clothes up from the floor whilst Iwaizumi’s in the shower, when Oikawa shoots his hand out to grab her wrist. ‘I’m sorry’, he tells her, a plaintive note in his voice. ‘I tore it up – I should never have tried to tell him.’

‘What?’ She gives him a bewildered stare. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Iwa-chan’, he slurs, and she can smell the alcohol on his breath as she moves closer to him to catch his words. ‘He got mad with me, madder than I’ve ever seen him before.’

‘You mean Hajime? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he doesn’t stay mad with you, whatever it is you’ve done.’

He shakes his head. ‘I’m sorry’, he manages to say, and starts to cry. She flounders, unsure whether to comfort him herself or call for Hajime to deal with him (because she’s not stupid, it’s painfully obvious he resents her), but the look in his eyes is so heartbreakingly vulnerable that she can't bring herself to leave him alone even for a minute, so she sits next to him on the bed, rubbing a soothing hand against his back while he soaks her sleeve with hot tears. ‘You’re drunk and injured, Oikawa-san. You should rest’, she murmurs, easing him back against his pillow when his sobs cease and he seems to calm down.

As she bends down again to pick up his clothes, he gives a cry of alarm and tries to grab her wrist again, almost flipping himself off the bed. Hearing the commotion, Iwaizumi rushes into the room, hair still wet from his shower, barking loudly ‘you idiot’, forcing Oikawa to lie back down onto the bed. She backs out of the room, leaving Hajime to comfort his sobbing friend.

She doesn’t think too much about Oikawa’s strange words, mentally writing it off as another one of his odd little quirks. But as she’s folding up his pants, a stack of torn papers falls out of its pocket, and she thinks she recognises the words ‘Iwa-chan’ scribbled all over it. Though she knows it’s wrong to invade his privacy – especially when he’s in no position to defend it, she can’t help but be curious, reasoning to herself that it must be his best man’s speech, she should at least vet through it once before the wedding.

It isn’t hard to piece the scraps of paper together, the tears uneven, as if made in a fit of panic or rage. It is, as she thought, Oikawa’s best man speech, and it starts out as expected, with well wishes to Iwaizumi and her. But as she continues reading, running her finger over each word, etched so harshly into each page that the ink bleeds, it becomes evident that that isn’t the only thing Oikawa meant to say.

‘I know it’s too late, but I love you, Iwa-chan’, she reads with growing horror on the very last page, a suspicious water stain next to these words. Mind whirling, unable to process what she’s just read, she sits at the kitchen table reading and re-reading his words until her vision starts to blur.

‘There are times I wonder if I chose wrong, if I should have held fast to you, the other half of my soul rather than going off to fight in hopeless wars, because I should have known you won’t always be waiting for me to come home. But I will always love you - like the moon loves the sun, even if I can only watch you from afar, so full of light’.

She should be furious – she should head straight to Oikawa and scream and shout and stamp her foot at him, because how dare he say these things now when he’s had forever to say them to Iwaizumi before she even came into the picture – how dare he wait until she and Iwaizumi are less than ten days away from being wed. But she doesn’t, because deep inside her, she understands.

How can she begrudge his love when they love the same man?

‘Sweetheart’, she faintly hears Iwaizumi say, squinting in the light as he emerges from the dark bedroom. ‘Is everything alright?’ he asks, his voice heavy with concern when he catches sight of her tear stained face.

She wants to tell him that everything’s just fine – but his gaze shifts to the torn papers in her trembling hands and she knows immediately everything is not fine at all when he looks back at her with guilt and anguish branded on his face.

‘Did you know?’ she asks, hating the way her voice starts to break.

‘He told me just now’, he tells her heavily, dropping into the seat across her, his hands cradling his head.

‘Do you love him?’ she demands, ignoring the sob that’s threatening to tear itself out of her chest.

He looks up at her. There are tears in his eyes.

‘Yes’, he admits. ‘I don’t want to, but I do’.

His words knock the oxygen from her lungs, leaving her with a crater in her chest. He loves Oikawa Tooru, this beautiful, brilliant, broken boy, incandescent with the light of a thousand stars.

Where does that leave her?

(Stranded in the dust, abandoned in the dark)

She suddenly feels as if she’s trapped in her own skin, a vise that’s far, far too tight, burning with the need to turn herself inside out. ‘I need to go’, she manages to spit out, stumbling over her feet. He stands in alarm, reaching towards her but she slaps his hand away. ‘Don’t touch me’, she hisses, grabbing her wallet and phone through a haze of tears.

‘Where are you going to go?’ he demands, barring the door with his large frame. ‘It’s late, it’s not safe.’

‘Anywhere that’s not here’, she snarls, trying to shoulder her way through. ‘Let me go, Hajime – I can’t stay here, please, let me go!’ She slams her fists against his chest, collapsing to the floor at his feet when she realises it’s impossible to break through the immovable force that is Iwaizumi Hajime.

‘Let me go somewhere that isn’t here’, she begs him, hiccupping through her tears. ‘You’re hurting me more by making me stay here with him’.

He sinks to his knees to cup her face in his hands. ‘I’m sorry’, he sobs. ‘I couldn’t bear it if I lose you too’.

She doesn’t have the heart to tell him he already has ( because she can’t stay, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts), and when her stillness convinces him it’s safe to turn his back to her for a second, she slips through the door and disappears into the night. She hears him shout her name, hears the anguish in his voice, but she doesn’t stop running until she’s safely ensconced in a nearby hotel room.

Her phone keeps buzzing through the night. ‘Iwaizumi Hajime ’, it reads, ‘Iwaizumi Hajime’, flashes on her screen, again and again. She tries her best to ignore it, turning her phone on to silent mode, leaving it face down on the dresser but she can’t - her ears still echoing with the heart wrenching panic in his voice. So she rolls over to her phone and sends him a text – ‘ I’m fine, go to bed, you have a doctor’s appointment with Oikawa to worry about tomorrow morning’ – quickly switching it off before he can flood her inbox with desperate calls and texts.

She tries her best to fall asleep, but she ends up lying awake, counting the cracks in the ceiling. The air in the room is far, far too still, and she feels like she’s suffocating, buried alive from the sand and dirt and earth pouring into the cavity in her chest. Against her better judgment, she uncorks the cheap spirits in the hotel minibar and pours herself shots, one after another, until she drops off to sleep with a single thought swirling around her head.

The universe isn’t fair - because first it gave her Hajime, then it took him away.

It is noon when she wakes, sunlight streaming mercilessly into the room. She sits up with a groan, rubbing a hand across her face. For a second, she wonders where she is, the monochrome sheets so different from the cheerful patterns she uses in their room, before reality slams into her like a comet to her chest.

Right. That happened .

She can scream and cry and try to scratch the face of fate but it won’t change matters. Hiding away from the world isn’t going to make the cruel joke that is her love life go away, so she grits her teeth and steels herself, washing her face and paying the bill before heading home (though if she’s honest with herself, she’s not sure if it’ll be home for much longer).

She prays to god or whatever deity there is out there (not the universe, it has a funny way of throwing shit her way) that Iwaizumi wouldn’t be home, but whatever it is, it’s definitely not listening because Iwaizumi opens the front door while she’s still struggling with her keys. It takes just one look at him for the pain in her chest to make its presence felt again.

‘How’s Oikawa’s knee?’ she casually inquires, edging around him to slip into the flat. Oikawa doesn’t seem to be around, so she lets herself relax just an inch.

‘It’s fine’, he responds, his eyes never leaving her face. ‘Just needs some rest’.

‘That’s good’, she says absently, heading straight for the kitchen, ignoring him as he follows her steps. ‘Have you eaten?’ she asks, pulling leftover rice and dashi stock out of the fridge. He nods dumbly as she heats them both up to assemble two bowls of Ochazuke . Her heart may be broken, but her stomach certainly isn’t, and she’s not about to let herself wither away. He looks at her dumbly as she slides his bowl at him, and neither of them says a word until she leans back in her chair, satisfied with her meal.

‘Are we going to talk?’ he asks her confusedly.

‘About last night? What is there left to talk about?’ she replies, keeping her composure firm. ‘The wedding’s off obviously, so we need to inform all our vendors and guests as soon as possible. I think I should be the one to move out of the flat – ‘

He cuts her off frantically – ‘What? Why would we call off our wedding? I still love you, and you still love me, don’t you?’

She gapes at him incredulously. ‘Hajime, you told me last night that you love Oikawa. How is our marriage going to work if you love someone else?’

‘But I love you’, he says, his voice cracking. ‘Isn’t that enough?’

No it isn’t, and she’s shaking her head because it isn’t enough, it’s never going to be enough, because he may love her but he’s in love with him – has been since they were little boys with stars in their eyes. And his shoulders shake and it’s his turn to cry because he loves her, he really does, he knows greed is a sin but he wants both him and her, and he wishes that it could be enough.

‘I’ve seen the way you look at him, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you’, she tells him, eyes dry, but there’s a tremble in her voice that she can’t hide - because she’s so stupid, she should have figured this out long before she dug out her heart and handed it to him - but then again maybe she didn’t because she was blinded by staring too long at the sun.

‘You will grow to resent me if I keep him from you and besides, how could I possibly compare?’

Because Oikawa Tooru, blessed with innate brilliance and cursed with a penchant for self-immolation, burns brighter than a thousand stars.

‘I’m sorry’, he tells her, rounding the table to drop to his knees before her, the look in his eyes so heartbreakingly sad that she has to choke back a sob. ‘You meant the world to me’, he whispers brokenly as he buries his face in her lap.

‘I know’, she answers him – and gods, her heart is screaming and it hurts - but she loves him so much she knows it’s only right to let him go. ‘But the world will move on, and you need to chase the stars while you still have them in your sight’.

At this, he lets out a quiet cry, and this time she gives in and joins him, her tears soaking his hair. He wraps his arms around her as she presses kisses into his skin and they stay that way for a while, their limbs entwined, because it finally dawns on both of them that this is it - it truly is the end of them.

The sun may set and the moon may rise, but the stars - they burn bright in the sky.

Her love for him should die (from earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust) – but it doesn’t.

She packs her life into cardboard boxes and shifts into her sister’s flat. Iwaizumi doesn’t allow her to pay for the cancellation of their wedding, takes all responsibility for informing their guests that the wedding’s off - he says it’s his fault after all, and she doesn’t resist, knowing it’s his way of trying to make amends.

His face crumples and he tries to refuse her when she returns his ring, but she insists - because it doesn’t feel right, she can’t seem to smile when the silver band catches the sun's light. He doesn’t tell her he keeps it in a box beside his bed, and opens it from time to time.

Oikawa manages to weasel her sister’s address out of Iwaizumi and appears on her doorstep the day before he’s due to return to Argentina with a bushel of white lilies in his arms.

‘Wait!’ he cries, catching the door with his foot as she tries to slam it into his face, cursing the reflexes of a professional athlete. ‘I won’t take too much of your time’, he promises, and she folds her arms, glaring at him expectantly.

‘I’m sorry. I’ve treated you and Hajime terribly, haven’t I’, he asks her shamefacedly.

‘You have’, she tells him coldly, because she desperately wants to blame him for everything bad that's come her way but when he hangs his head, she can’t help but soften her tone. ‘But I understand, Oikawa. How could I blame you when I love the same man?’

‘I don’t deserve your kindness’, he responds quietly, after a pause.

‘But you have it’, she tells him. ‘So live and be happy, for his and my sake’.

When he leaves, she closes the door and sinks to the floor, burying her nose in his offering of lilies. Its scent is cloying sweet, but she can only taste the bitterness of ash in her mouth.

A year later, and she’s back covering the Japanese men’s volleyball season when she runs into one Iwaizumi Hajime again.

He is the first to speak, asking her a genial ‘how are you’, to which she replies ‘fine’, though she really means - ‘I may be wounded, but I am still standing on my feet’. But Iwaizumi understands - he always does , and they stay silent for a while.

She picks up the courage to ask after Oikawa, and she knows he’s trying his best not to light up as he tells her that though he’s back in Argentina, they’re pursuing a long distance relationship. In turn, she tells him about her new boyfriend, ruefully mentioning that though she tried to stay clear of volleyball boys, Akaashi Keiji not only used to play volleyball in high school, but is the best friend (and former setter) of Bokuto Koutaro, national team player and self-proclaimed ace. He laughs at that - but she does not mention it is a relationship born out of the heartbreak reflected in both of their eyes.

‘Are you alright?’ he asks her before they part. It’s ironic because these are the first words he’s ever said to her, but she swallows the memory and this time she responds truthfully.

‘It’s a work in progress and I’m getting there, one day at a time’.

They exchange bittersweet smiles.

It’s enough for now.

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu angst #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi fanfic #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu fic rec #haikyu x reader #oikawa x iwaizumi #iwaizumi x reader #oikawa angst #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi scenarios

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telli1206 · 3 years

Text

The Heart Will Follow (Chapter 2)

Jay’s never had a crush...until he met Carlos. And now he can’t stay away.

Carlos doesn’t know what to make of Jay’s presence, yet. But what should he do, exactly, about a boy that’s both cute AND terrifying?

A collection of Jaylos isle meetings, inspired by this beautiful headcanon I came across randomly that I can’t get out of my head. And thank you to @hersilentlanguage for motivating me to post this!

AO3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2: It Was Only Me And You

Evie tilts her head slowly, trying ever so gingerly to cast a subtle glance over her shoulder. Once she catches a flash of dark eyes, she whips back around. She tries to keep her actions as casual and composed as possible, but Carlos quirks a brow when he notices her mouth tipped open in surprise.

“He’s looking over here again. He’s-yeah, Jay’s definitely staring at you.”

Carlos sighs deeply and scrunches his eyes closed, letting his body slink back lax in his chair.

“Really? W-why do you think he keeps, doing that?”

Evie chews on her lip for a moment, examining Carlos carefully as his eyes flutter open to meet hers.

“Who knows.” She waves off the topic, leaning forward to help Carlos tackle the massive pile of books on his desk. “But there’s no point in worrying about it right now, is there? We have to get you home so you can catch up on these assignments.”

Carlos blinks, staring at her with a surprised look. He starts to turn, as if debating a look behind him, to see what Evie saw, but instead shifts back quickly and straightens up in his seat.

“O-ok. I guess. There is a lot here for me to do.”

He grabs his bag, smiling gratefully as Evie starts to stack his books so he can easily slide them in.

“Thanks, Evie.”

Evie feels a warmth bloom in her chest, and she has to fight down the happy curl that’s making its way across her lips. She only officially met her new friend a couple of hours ago, and already she feels giddy with excitement to have found a fellow kind soul on this dump of an island. She only wishes that she had a chance to meet him sooner. The fact that Carlos was hidden this whole time in the mansion just across the way from her seems like a travesty - a friendship that she’s really needed, and been deprived of.

Her resistance to smiling ebbs away the more she watches Carlos. He’s stopping every time he picks up a book to let his fingers trace across the letters on the cover, brown eyes alight with wonder, before carefully tucking his new treasure safely into his bag. It’s definitely slowing down their exit from class, but Evie can’t help but marvel at how excited Carlos is for school. It’s adorable.

And she finally has someone she can ask to study that won’t look at her like a complete freak for actually wanting to do her school work.

Evie’s knocked out of her thoughts by a loud snort from behind, obnoxious enough to startle her and make Carlos flinch. Her eyes narrow at Mal, who flashes her a steely glare while dragging Jay along past her and Carlos.

Jay’s constant presence makes Evie uneasy. Even as Mal pulls him by forcefully, he’s still staring at Carlos. And now he’s close...too close for her comfort. She tenses when she sees the thief leaning in even closer to her friend, only relaxing when Mal firmly yanks him away, earning space between Jay and Carlos.

Evie comes around the desk to stand by Carlos, making a fuss under the guise of helping him more, but secretly hoping for protection for him that can come with her proximity. Carlos smiles gratefully at her, happy for her help, but also glaringly oblivous to the fact that he’s still in the sights of his dark-haired classmate.

“Come on, Carlos, we should head home. By the way, can I tell you how excited I am to have someone to walk home with? Especially since it’s you.”

Carlos ducks his head, hiding a shy smile as he slings his hefty backpack over his shoulder. Two books are still in his hand, and he ignores Evie’s comment (other than the light flush dusting his cheeks, which Evie still notices) in favor of chattering excitedly about his first Poisons and Potions class tomorrow.

His animated talk is the perfect distraction, allowing Evie to guide them quickly away from prying eyes. She hooks a hand under Carlos’ elbow the second she sees Mal and Jay lingering against the lockers. She isn’t sure why they’re still hanging around nearby, but she’s not about to stay and find out.

“-so I know we probably can’t bring materials home, but do you think the teacher might make an exception if I offered to clean up the room for them or something? Because there’s an acid that’s good for cleaning concrete that I could really use. Mother would love-”

Evie’s half listening to Carlos, nodding and humming accordingly so he continues while she’s keeping a watchful eye. She fixes as heated a glare as she can muster when she catches Jay’s eye, feeling mildly satisfied when his eyes widen slightly in surprise.

She lets her glare shift then to Mal, hoping for a smiliar reaction, but is less than surprised when instead the girl’s face scrunches in anger, and a mocking tongue pokes from between her pinkish lips.

For a second Evie thinks how much fun it would be to just bite at that offensive pink tongue, and to bruise those small, pouty lips with pressure from her own. Mal would be shocked, no doubt, and the painful groans would be music to her ears...

Wait...painfulshrieks. Why is she thinking about Mal’s groans?

Evie shakes her head dismissively, returning her focus to Carlos and his chemistry babbling. She’s having trouble holding onto his elbow as his gestures become more wild and exagerrated. His nose is scrunched and his cheeks are flushed and red from barely taking a breath between sentences. It makes his freckles stand out so much more against the brightening skin.

He’s so cute, Evie thinks, stealing peeks at him as they walk. With beautiful brown eyes and lips like his, she has no doubt her friend will have at least a few of the kids at Dragon Hall crushing. Hard.

Her thoughts suddenly shift to Jay, and the looks he was giving Carlos. His stares. The creepy closeness. And her breath hitches in her throat.

Maybe she’ll have more to worry about with Jay than she originally thought.

———

“Evie? I appreciate you walking with me, but isn’t your home...right there?”

Carlos points back to the dusty sidewalk Evie had just hurried past. It’s dirty and quiet and isolated like it’s barely even looked at, let alone used. And yet, there’s still a light disturbance in the softly settled dirt that bares an eerie resemblance to Evie’s high-heeled shoes.

Yes, Carlos surmises. Those are definitely her heel prints and that’s most definitely her turn off to get home.

But her fingers are fidgeting and her gaze is scattered. She’s quietly shaking her head No but refusing to look at him at the same time.

“Evie? Is...is something, wrong?”

She finally looks up at him, her bottom lip pulled tight between her teeth. Carlos catches a look of concern before Evie relaxes and flashes a toothy grin. It seems...forced? But Carlos decides not to question it.

“Of course not, Carlos! I’m fine,” she chirps, still smiling at him. “I just want to make sure you make it home ok.”

She covers Carlos’ hand with her own and smiles warmly, and Carlos is practically beaming from the attention.

He was overjoyed when his mother finally agreed to let him attend school. But he had never imagined that going to Dragon Hall would benefit him even more than just advancing his education.

But now, he has his first...friend. And it’s already better than he could have hoped for.

“Evie, how do you think I made it home before today?” he teases with a little smirk. “I’ll be ok, I swear. Besides, if your mom’s anything like mine, she’s going to be royally pissed if you’re late. Am I right?”

Evie sighs, casting a troubled glance towards her castle, and Carlos knows his assumption was spot-on. Not that he’s surprised, really. He would have been more shocked to find out Evie had kind, loving parents than the latter.

But to Carlos, that only begs the question why Evie would want to go against her best interest to stay with him.

“Get going,” he urges again, pointing towards her castle. “I want to walk to school with you in the morning, so don’t go getting yourself in trouble, ok? I’m not about to lose a fr- uh, person, I just found over something so trivial.”

Evie cracks a smile, clearly not missing Carlos’ almost slip-up. Evil, hopefully he didn’t already ruin things by flat-out announcing his desperation by using a word only saved for the weakest of islers.

“Ok, I guess you’re right,” Evie chirps, and Carlos breathes a sigh of relief at the smile still bright on her face. “You’ll be careful though, right? Just...watch your back.”

Carlos raises a brow. “Of course. But...what do you think’s going to happen, Evie? I’m like, 50 feet from my front door.”

Evie bites her lip again, letting her eyes scan behind them, over alleyways and their quiet, abandoned path. She pauses for a moment to narrow her gaze on one darkened corner, and Carlos can feel his heart thudding harder in his chest as he examines her movements. But she finally eases her stance and turns back to face him.

“It’s...nothing. Really. It’s just - anything can happen, right? I worry about everything,” she dismisses with a chuckle. “I’ll..um...I’ll see you tomorrow, ok? Do you, want to meet here? At 7? And...walk to school, together?”

Carlos immediately brightens at the idea, Evie matching his wide smile with her own.

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

Evie presses her smile down, offering a short wave before turning to follow the path towards her castle. Carlos watches for a moment, instinctively checking to make sure she’s safe before heading his own way. But he can’t help noticing her eyes continually darting back to that corner, as if waiting for something...or someone to emerge from the darkness.

Carlos tries to shake off his nerves as he watches Evie’s figure disappear around the mildly crumbling brick of her castle. After a final pause to listen for any sounds of distress, he takes a deep breath and starts the rest of his trek to Hell Hall alone.

At least, he thinks he’s alone.

And the muted silence deludes him into believing that that’s the case...for a while, at least. It’s not until he’s just about to ascend the steps to his front door that a distinct crunch of dry leaves behind him leaves him frozen in his tracks.

“Heh. Shit.”

Carlos spins on his heel, and comes face to face with...Jay?

“Um..what’s up, short stuff?”

Carlos huffs at his words, his fists clenched as he tries his best to stare down one of the most intimidating boys at his new school. There’s no way he’s about to show fear when Jay’s right in front of his own home.

Wait, why is he at his home?

“W-what do you want?” Carlos presses, keeping his voice as steady as he can. “I-I know my house looks...big, but I don’t have-”

“Is the bitch home?”

Jay takes a slow step forward, and Carlos swallows. He’s barely a foot away now, and it feels so close. He can almost smell the sweat beading on Jay’s brow. He keeps his eyes trained down, with a blurring focus just below Jay’s chin, so as not to concentrate on the smirk he knows he’s giving him right now.

“Y-yeah. And she’ll probably beat my ass, a-and yours too, if I don’t get inside right away. I-I need to make...h-her dinner.”

Shit. That sounded so weak. Carlos dares a peek at Jay’s face, and it surprised to see the smile wiped away, and Jay chewing on his lip. He looks almost...worried.

And he surprises Carlos further by taking a generous step back, his arms raised in surrender.

“Well, wouldn’t want that now, would we?” Jay teases, and Carlos curls a sneer at his mocking tone. “Now, now, calm it down freckles. I’m not gonna get you in trouble, ok?”

Jay drops his hands into his pockets, hunching over to rock on his heels some.

“Doubt those eyes of yours would be so pretty with nasty purple bruises around ‘em. Until next time, then?”

Jay pulls out a hand to issue an awkward salute, quirking a smile as Carlos tilts his head, eyes narrowed and confused.

“Bye bye, Carlos De Vil.”

Jay turns and shuffles slowly down the path, kicking at random pieces of dirt and rocks on the way. He keeps his head down, refusing to look up or even cast a single glance behind him.

But Carlos stands unmoving, still staring at the weird thief with long, dark hair that’s tangling in the dry heat. He’s trying to make sense of what just happened, but all logic that could explain what just happened is lost on him.

Did Jay just say his eyes were pretty?

#jaylos #jay x carlos #descendants #my writing #carvie #malvie #Carlos De Vil #jay son of jafar #mal bertha #evie grimhilde #the isle of the lost

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wefoundloveunderthelight · 3 years

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Skyline Manor by GleefullyCaptainSwan Chapter 7/13

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @deckerstarblanche

Chapter 7: Off Limits

Killian felt the cold wind beating against his skin as he drove closer to the harbor. He hadn’t expected the evening to turn out like this, dinner with Henry and his mother was never on the agenda. He didn’t even know why he had accepted the offer from the boy. Perhaps it was his admission that his poem had been about him. This pirate who was lonely, with a broken heart, living in solitude. How did an eleven-year-old child learn all of that from him?

Perhaps the boy was paying more attention than he gave him credit for during his Q&A sessions they had while playing with Smee.

Killian had been touched that he thought enough of him to even write a sentence about him, but a full poem, what had he done to deserve the lad’s devotion?

Was Henry’s mother the princess? He banished the thoughts from his mind. Even if the kid wrote his tale about his mother and this pirate that was based on himself, Emma had a boyfriend. She was off limits, end of story.

He parked his bike in front of the restaurant, pulling his helmet from his head and staring at the door. He should go home. This was a bad idea.

It’s just pizza. Pizza with a kid and a woman who was unavailable. Harmless.

He checked in at the front, asked for a seat on the patio and was escorted to a table near the water. Killian closed his eyes, taking in the sounds of the seagulls, the smell of the nearby ocean, and felt himself relax.

“How did you know this was my mom’s favorite table?”

Killian laughed. “Just lucky I guess.”

He stood as Emma approached the table, pulling out the seat for the woman.

For no other reason except that he was a gentleman.

“Thank you.” She said, with a dip of her head, her lips tilting upward.

“So, what do you put on your pizza, and please don’t say pineapple.” Killian groaned, winking at the boy who sat down beside him.

“Eww, who puts pineapple on their pizza?” Henry groaned. “Just pepperoni, please.”

“If that’s what you want, then pepperoni is what you shall get. We are after all celebrating your success tonight. You were a star up there, lad.”

“Did ya hear that mom, I was a star.”

“Yes, kiddo, you really were.”

“Did Killian tell you that he bought a boat?”

Killian’s eyes met Emma’s, “He did not.” She stated as her eyebrow’s rose.

“Aye. Nothing fancy, just something I can take out on the water on my free time.”

“He named it the Jolly Roger, like Captain Hook, mom.” He said excitedly and Killian couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face. He loved the boy’s enthusiasm.

“That’s very exciting.” Emma said slowly. “Sailing appears to be in your blood.”

“Aye, It’s the one place that brings me comfort and calm.”

Emma nodded. “There is something about the sound of the water, the way it crashes on the shore. The birds in the distance.”

“Do you sail?”

“Oh no, never. I mean, Neal was never interested, and Graham gets seasick.”

“And what about you?” He asked her.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you told me how Neal and Graham feel about sailing, but what about you, love?”

“Only the one time…” She looked out at the water. “But I do love the water.”

“I want to learn how to sail.” Henry announced and Killian reached out without thinking to run his hand through the boy’s hair.

“Perhaps your mother will allow me to teach you one day.” He watched the woman, a soft smile on her lips as she kept looking out at the water. Her hair was blowing lightly with the soft breeze coming off the bay. She had a beauty about her that he couldn’t describe, and he found that he couldn’t stop staring at her. Every so often she would look up, catch him glancing in her direction, and smile softly, her gaze lingering for a moment before she looked away.

Around his second piece of pizza, he realized that they seemed to be playing a game, taking turns staring when the other wasn’t looking. He thought perhaps he was imagining it, but there was no mistaking it when her tongue darted out, brushing across her lips while she stared longingly at his own mouth.

He needed to put a stop to this before things got complicated. Women always came with complications.

~*~

Henry watched his mother and Killian make small talk at the table, his mother’s laughter coming more naturally than he was used to seeing from her. He sat back and let them talk, happy to see them interacting without his prompting.

He knew it would only be a matter of time before they realized they were a perfect match. Killian needed someone like his mother, someone who wouldn’t let him hide away from his life. And his mother needed Killian to show her how to live her life outside of her responsibilities. He just needed them to realize it.

As they rode up to the fourth floor on the elevator, he didn’t want the night to end. They were so close he could tell, so close to letting down their guard in front of each other. Showing the real people they were inside, without all the fake walls they both had built around themselves.

As they paused in front of their apartment, Henry paused at the door. “Do you know anything about gas stoves?”

“Aye lad, is there a reason you ask?”

Emma pushed the door open. “Henry, it’s fine, Graham can fix it on Tuesday when he comes over.”

“Is your stove broken?”

“I can’t get the pilot to light. I’m not sure what’s wrong with it.” His mother responded nervously.

“I’d be happy to take a look, I’d hate for you…for the lad to be without a stove until Tuesday.”

“Are you sure?”

“What are neighbors for?” He grinned.

“Ok.” She pushed open the door and Henry ran inside. “I’m tired, I’m going to go to bed. Night.” He ran off to his bedroom, ignoring his mother’s pleas behind him.

“Henry, what are you doing outside of the castle?”

“I could say the same about you, Mother.”

“We don’t have time for this.” Captain Jones complained.

“Who is The Swan Thief?” Henry shouted.

“Henry…”

“Look, this feels like a personal matter, perhaps I should give you both a moment alone.”

“Don’t move.” Emma warned. “We don’t have time for this Henry.” She turned on her son.

“Tell me the truth, is he my father?”

The Captain leaned against the wall, sighing as he pressed his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had no time for family drama. He had a mark to catch.

“Henry, he wasn’t a good man.”

“So, you lied to me and told me he died?” The boy cried.

“He left us. Abandoned us. I did what I thought I had to do to protect you.” She reached up, brushing the tears from her face.

“Why is he back?”

Emma looked at the Captain. “He’s after a diamond, a trinket of the Queen’s.” The man answered.

“He’s the one you were looking for in the castle last night, the one you burst into my room to find. Was he there?”

“Aye.”

“So where is he now?”

“We’re about to go track him now. You need to go back to the castle. Let me handle this.”

“You both need to go back to the castle. I was hired to do this, it’s my duty to bring him in.” The Captain complained.

“You aren’t going without me.” The Princess demanded.

“Or me.” Henry stood defiantly.

The Captain groaned. “Then lead the way, M’lady.”

~*~

Emma watched from the table as Killian bent over the stove, admiring the view she was getting of his ass. He stood up, wiping his hands on his pants. “I think that did it.” She stood up walking over to the stove to see the blue flame light up.

“You fixed it.” She exclaimed.

“Good as new.” He sat the lighter down on the counter beside her and Emma got lost in the way his eyes caught hers. His fingers only inches from her own.

“Thank you…” She stammered. “For um, you know, coming to Henry’s fair tonight.” He stepped toward her almost in a trance. “For buying the pizza tonight and fixing my stove.” She licked her lips as she felt his fingers graze against hers on the counter. Her body was moving on its own accord, needing to be closer to him.

“I uh…” His voice was dark, hesitant. “I should go.” They were so close, her fingers danced along his wrist, looking up into his eyes.

He blinked; his eyes focused on her lips. “Ok.” She breathed out, closing the distance between them, her lips brushing against his. Before she could think or change her mind, her hands were in his hair, wanting him closer and needing something she couldn’t quite understand. She wasn’t thinking, she was reacting, she couldn’t even remember the moment she knew she was going to kiss him but now that she was, it felt like she had wanted to since the moment she had laid eyes on him.

She couldn’t breathe, it was as if only he had the air that she needed to survive and without his mouth she would surely perish. His hands tangled in her hair, before brushing down her back as he pulled her into his chest. He released her almost as quickly as he had taken her into his arms, her body immediately missing his warmth.

Her chest was heaving as she tried to bring the air back into her lungs. “That was…”

“A one-time thing.” He spoke softly. “My apologies, but that can’t happen again. You have a boyfriend.” Emma blushed, realizing she hadn’t thought of Graham in hours. “And I…”

“Have Belle. You’re right. I shouldn’t have…”

“No harm no foul, love. Think nothing of it.” He paused, looking at her one more time. “I very much enjoyed the evening. Let me know if you have any more trouble with the stove.”

And with that, he walked away from her and out of the apartment, the door closing behind him. Emma closed her eyes and leaned over the counter, feeling the cold granite on her cheek as she groaned. “Really good job Emma.” She stood up, holding her hand to her temple. “You son meets someone he idolizes, and you go and kiss him.”

Emma realized as she stood admonishing herself in the middle of her kitchen that she was more concerned that she kissed someone her son cared about than the fact she had kissed a man who wasn’t her boyfriend.

It was a little fact that continued to grow bigger as the weeks passed. It was in the way she started noticing things when she was with Graham. The fact that she didn’t get butterflies when he walked in the room the same way she did when she ran into Killian. It was in the longing glances she caught herself in when Killian would pass her in the hall.

And when Ruby stopped her in the hall to ask if she had forgotten to do laundry on Monday, the way she had always done it and Emma just laughed it off until she got to the laundry room, Killian standing at one of the machines with extra quarters for her, that she stopped to question when she had changed to Tuesdays, the same day Killian Jones did his laundry.

She convinced herself she wasn’t seeking him out. He was a friend. Killian was someone she enjoyed wasting time with while waiting for her clothes to dry. That was all. There was nothing wrong with chatting up a friend, telling them about your day, or sharing a beer in the basement over a load of dirty towels. She was friends with Killian just like she was with Will.

Sure, she had kissed Killian, but it was only one time, and he had gotten over it and so had she.

Ok so she had mostly gotten over it. There was the small matter of the fact that she was still having dreams about it. And not the cute, G rated kind either. She’d never actually seen a porno before, but she was pretty sure the dreams she was having of her neighbor at night would classify.

“You’re quiet today, love.” She looked up suddenly, realizing she had been lost in thought, and laughed.

“Sorry, didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Nightmares?” He questioned, with a sincere look of concern on his face.

“Oh, definitely not.” She snorted and then covered her mouth.

A smirk grew on his face, and she was sure it brought a blush to her cheeks. “Are you having dirty dreams, Swan.”

She slapped at his shoulder, “Stop.”

“You are! My, my, Swan, very unexpected from you.”

“Why is that unexpected, I’m a woman, I have needs.”

His eyes seemed to darken as he stared down at her, his tongue sliding across his lip. As if he realized he was staring, he blinked and reached for a towel on the table between them. Silence filling the room.

“So uh, how’s Belle, haven’t seen her in a few days.” Smooth Emma. Great transition to fill the awkward sexual tension, ask about his girlfriend. Brilliant.

“She’s good. Library keeps her busier than you would imagine. How is Graham?”

Well, this isn’t awkward at all, she thought.

“Good, yeah he’s good. Working a lot.” She reached for a towel the same time as he did, their hands colliding which caused her to jump at the contact.

Why did he always make her heart race so fast? What was it about him that was so exciting and appealing… and dangerous?

As she lifted the towel, something fell to the ground and Killian bent over to pick it up. When he stood she felt her mouth go dry. Hooked around his finger was her black lace panties. “I don’t believe these will fit me.” His thumb seemed to caress the lace as his eyes trailed down her body making Emma swallow harder than she meant to, choking on her own saliva.

She reached out and grabbed the item from his hand. “I’m not sure you could pull off a thong.” She teased trying to bring any sort of normalcy back to the conversation, a joke, a laugh, oh God anything besides this deafening sound in her ears screaming for her to run from the room before she did something stupid, like run her hands through that thicket of black hair he was always displaying with a half-buttoned shirt.

Why did he even bother with putting on a shirt if he was only going to close half of it? It was obscene, and sexy, and God she needed to stop staring at his chest.

She put her towel and panties in her basket and looked around nervously, trying to ignore the way he was staring into her. “I just remembered I need to get Henry ready for his weekend with his dad.”

“Ah yes, the prodigal ex returns.”

Emma chuckled. “Yeah, so I need to make sure he’s packed or else he’s going to end up with nothing to wear but the clothes on his back for 3 days.”

“An extended visit, perhaps that will be just what the lad needs.”

“I guess.” She frowned.

“It can’t be easy handing him over to someone else and hoping they won’t disappoint the boy.”

“That’s the thing. I know he’ll disappoint him.”

“Sorry, love.”

She hated that one minute he was a sex God, giving her looks that made her want to drop her panties and mount him right there on the washing machine, and the next he had that sincere look of a man who actually cared about her and Henry. It was a bit overwhelming. And there was no way in which it was possible that the man actually cared about her.

Emma turned to leave. “See ya around, Jones.”

“I’ll be counting the seconds, Swan.”

How will the princess claim the belonging she desperately craves if she cannot trust the words uttered in the darkness of her mind?

~*~

The moment Emma was out of sight he let out a breath he was holding. Bugger. The woman was going to be the death of him.

He could handle wanting a woman, desiring someone so badly that he needed to escape to solitude to take himself in hand, releasing the tension of not being able to have the creature he desired. But caring about the woman and her boy had become something he wasn’t prepared for.

Perhaps spending so much time with the two of them was unwise. Lately he seemed to run into Emma everywhere. Impromptu discussions in the hall, a beer while doing laundry in the basement, finding her at the diner near the harbor after getting off his shift.

Ok the last one he had to admit was less of an accident and more deliberate on his part. The boy might have mentioned in passing that his mother enjoyed a specific diner down by the harbor and Killian might have stopped by at different times in the day before he found the exact moment she would visit. After that they seemed to bump into each other more often, opting to share lunch at the same table instead of talking across the room.

It was all innocent. Emma was his friend. Even if friendship wasn’t exactly a luxury he had been afforded recently. He enjoyed his time with Emma. Even more when he had Henry along. The boy had invited him to dinner at his place a couple of times and he would join Will and the two of them over a plate of spaghetti or a takeout pizza.

And he had been seeing less of Belle, though he couldn’t blame the library for that. Lately when they would meet, he found himself uninterested in their usual roll in the hay after dinner. It all seemed so casual. Belle was getting irritated with him, if it was any indication from the way she told him to refrain from coming over if he wasn’t going to listen to a word she said the last time he was at her place. He knew he was going to have to deal with what was going on between him and Belle. Their expiration date had come and gone, and Killian needed to stop ignoring it but the damn feeling that he was going to hurt her kept nagging at him. Reminding him why he didn’t form connections with women.

But Emma was on a whole different level of confusing for him. He understood his stressful thoughts about Belle. But Emma?

Ever since their kiss a few weeks ago, it has been all he thought about. He didn’t know where he got the strength to walk away that evening, everything in him was screaming to take the woman. But she had a boyfriend and that made her off limits.

He had learned his lesson with Milah. It nearly destroyed his life. The day he found out she was married, not separated from an ex who was demanding, like she had told him, everything had fallen apart. He was in love with this woman, he didn’t want to walk away from the life they had built together, even if half of it was based on a lie.

He tried to break it off, tried not to give in when she showed up his door, tears in her eyes, scared that her husband had been drinking again, had hit her, and was begging him to take her to bed. God he had tried. He would take her in, clean her wounds, make love to her, and promise her forever. But she always went back to him.

The last time he hit her, Killian had put up with enough and went after the man. Of course, Milah lied to the police, called him a jealous lover who was hell bent on destroying her marriage. He ended up in 30 days lock up with a restraining order and a discharge from the Navy for conduct unbecoming of an officer. His life was ruined.

When he showed up on Liam’s doorstep, drunk and alone and promising never to be with another woman again, he had been serious. He could never have his heart broken that way again and survive.

But now he was here in Boston, at Skyline Apartments, with a woman who stared at him like she was the answer to every prayer he had uttered in his dreams. And a boy who clung to him like what he said actually mattered. He wanted to run, to get as far away as he could from the feelings bubbling to the surface.

How will the Pirate ever find the affection he desires, if he lingers in the solitude he has created?

#skyline manor #stacy's fics #emma swan #killian jones #captain swan modern au #captain swan fics #captain swan au #captain swan

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let-love-run-red · 4 years

Text

Never Shall we Die - 1

Ok loves, I’ve had this in my WIP folder for awhile. I wanted to do this one right, IE actually have a story planned before I published the first chapter lol. This is a first for me, and I hope you like it! Let me know if you’d like to be tagged loves.

Before we start, this story was inspired by the lovely @beskarbabs Pirate!kylo story Thieves and Beggars. It is absolutely wonderful, and I recommend checking it out and giving her some love!

AO3 link

Masterlist

Another government meeting in the largest house in Port Royal. You sighed, sitting in the chair at your father's side. Ever since Mama had died, you'd been attending the meetings she would have, sitting in her place, tracing the grain on the ornate table top and wishing for something else to do.

Today it was something else about the boats. About the pirates, about the merchandise being moved. More boring things. You were ten! you wanted to be out playing in the gardens and chasing your father's hunting dogs around the grounds, finding flowers that your mother would then braid into your hair while she sang to you.

The thought of it made you miss her all the more. The Scarlatina had struck her hard, taking her energy and your unborn sibling. She had been too tired to play, to sing to you, to love you. And you supposed that wasn't her fault, but you had been angry with her. Thought she didn't love you. You wished for her to be taken away, considered running away so she would realize how much she missed you. You were so angry that when the doctors said she didn't have much time, you refused to see her. What did they know?

You always regretted that, you thought. What if seeing her had made her want to stay? You supposed you'd never know.

You looked up and realized your father was on his feet, shouting with another man in a fancy coat. He wouldn't notice your absence. You stood and walked towards the door, hiking up the skirt of your dress as you walked past the guards. They likely assumed you were headed to the chamber pot. Rather than taking a left down that hall, you continued straight, ducking out into the garden and sneaking out of the cracked wall, to the marketplace, where you did your most interesting people watching.

***

"Blow high, Blow low, and so sailed we, the quarter that we gave them was to sink them in the sea, Sailing down 'long the coast of High Barbaree." He sang quietly to himself as he walked down the streets of the markets. He tried to keep the drool in his mouth as he smelled the cooking meats and fresh fruits. He looked in all the stalls, thinking of how even one of those fish could feed him for a week. He stopped when he saw an unmanned stall, peeking over the edge to see what it contained.

Corn, bushel upon bushel of fresh green corn, just lying there, unattended, begging him to take them. He felt his stomach rumble as he imagined what his mum could do with even one ear of corn. He thought of cornbread, and boiled kernels, corn pudding, and without thinking of the repercussions he snatched two ears and tucked them under his vest.

He tried to hide the smile on his face as he walked down the street, trying to keep hold of the large vegetables. He hadn't realized the tops of the corn peeking out of the vest, and didn't notice until someone planted a large hand on his shoulder and spun him around.

"What have ye got there boy?" The man snarled, reaching into his jacket and pulling the ears of corn out.

"N-nothing." He stuttered, trying to squirm from the man's grip and reach for the corn.

"It sure don't look like nothing." The words were spat in his face as the man grabbed his arm and dragged him towards a pair of guards walking down the street towards him. He started trying to pull his arm away, kicking at the man and trying to go dead weight, but nothing worked. He couldn't be arrested, what would mum do? He grabbed the man's arm, pulling himself forward and sinking his teeth into his forearm.

The man shouted, dropping his arm and turning to smack him. He ducked under the fist, scrambling to his feet and running towards the only empty alleyway he could see. He wove through feet and dodged skirts and shoes, trying to put as much distance as possible between him and the guards.

He finally ducked behind a stack of barrels in an alleyway, smacking his head into someone else's face.

"Hey!" She cried, standing up and glaring down at him. She couldn't have been much younger than him, maybe only a year or two. She was wearing a fancy pale blue dress with a shiny gold necklace on. A castle rat. He sneered, ready to snap at her when he heard the guards.

"Where'd he go?" They snapped to one another. He watched the girl turn, her (h/c) curled hair bouncing around her face. She opened her mouth and Kylo pulled her down by her arm. She landed in his lap and he wrapped an arm around her middle to pin her arms down, using his other hand to cover her mouth.

"Shh!" He hissed in her ear while she struggled against him. It wasn't until the guards had walked past, and she was trying to bite his hand, that he released her. She scrambled away from him, turning to fix him with a bewildered stare.

"What do you think you're doing!?" She snapped. Kylo pushed himself up to his feet, looking down at her.

"Running." He said.

"But it's hard when a castle rat is in your hiding spot." He snapped at her. She seemed taken aback at that.

"Were you running from the guards?" He was silent in response, looking around to make sure the coast was clear before walking out from behind the barrels. She followed him, pulling the skirts of her long dress up and trying not to trip over the cobblestone in her fancy heels.

"Are you a thief?" She snapped, running ahead of him. He pushed past her to walk down the street, weaving between people and hoping she would leave him alone.

He had no such luck.

"What did you steal?" She pestered him. He continued to ignore her as he walked, hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers while he tried to avoid stares from people.

"If you don't tell me, I'll get the guards." She said, catching up with him. He growled low in his throat, wishing she would go away.

"They're right there, they'll listen to me over you, I know it." She said. He finally snapped, grabbing her arm and pulling her into another alleyway.

"Corn! I tried to steal corn. I'm hungry. Now will you fuck off?" He asked. For the first time since he'd met her she was silent. He tried to walk past her when she gently reached out and tugged on his sleeve.

"I'm sorry you're hungry. Would you like me to get you something?" She asked. He looked back at her with furrowed brows.

"I'm the governor's daughter, I can take whatever I'd like, and the guards can't do anything." She said. He shook his head, trying to push past her again.

"Wait, please!" She called, following after him.

"What do you want?" He snapped.

"I don't know." She said. He let out another sigh. He should have gone with the guards.

"You seem interesting." She said, looping her arm through his and leaning against him, the way his mother did with his father. Was it a lady thing? He wouldn't know. He resisted the urge to push her off as he walked through the streets towards the docks.

The two walked in silence. Well, he walked in silence, she rambled on and on about her father and what he did, how her mother had died, how she was important to the government, how she would grow up to marry the Commodore or some such nonsense. He was only half paying attention as they approached the docks. He admired the ships, both the small ones docked and the larger ones in the port that were too deep in the draft to come close.

"Did you hear me?" She asked, poking him harshly in the side. He winced and looked down at her.

"Have you ever been on a ship?" She repeated.

"No. I haven't." In truth, he wanted to be. He wanted to be sailing on a ship away from this wretched place. He wanted to take his mother and father and give them a better life somewhere else. Maybe to America, his father had taken them here, to Port Royal, in hopes of a better life. But they lived as peasants, scraping and begging for every last scrap of food. Maybe, if he had a ship, he could take them to the motherland. To Europe, or France even. But he was stuck here, on the docks, watching the ships come and go.

"I can get you on a ship." She said suddenly. He looked down to her with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows.

"What?"

"I said I can get you on a ship. Do your ears work?" She asked, tilting her head.

"Yes my ears work just fine." He snapped. "What's in it for you?" He'd learned, nothing came for free in life. Especially not in Port Royal.

She shrugged as she stepped forward. Her arm was still linked with his, so he followed her as she walked through the docks towards where the East India Trading Company ships were docked.

"I just want to know your name." She said. "And I'm bored, the ships always have interesting things going on." She said, walking towards the largest ship docked. It was named The Hyperion, and it was gorgeous. It was one he figured was to sail soon, it had been docked for a few weeks.

The hull had been painted a rich navy blue, with the posts and rails a royal gold. The sails were a pristine white, every rope was in the proper place, and the men swarming about it had not a hair out of place. It was perfect in every way, the perfect ship.

He hadn't realized he'd broken into a smile until she commented on it.

"Wow, you're more excited by a ship than a pretty girl." She lamented, unlinking their arms. He hadn't moved as he inspected the ship.

"Want to go?" She asked, poking him in the side again. His jaw dropped as he turned to look at her.

"Can, can we?" He asked in disbelief.

"I told you, I'm the governor's daughter. I can do whatever I want to." She said with a grin. He rolled his eyes again.

"But!" She suddenly shouted, startling him.

"You have to tell me your name!" She finished. He let out a heavy sigh. He didn't care for her to know him, to be able to track him down and bother him further, but oh how he wanted to board that ship.

"Name, or no ship." She said, folding her arms like a petulant child.

"What are you, eight?" He snapped.

"I'm ten actually." She huffed indignantly.

"Fine. My name is Kylo." He said walking towards the ship. She grabbed the sleeve of his shirt and pulled him back.

"Last name too Kylo." She said. He kind of liked the way his name rolled off her tongue. It sounded smooth and elegant.

"Ren." He huffed. She grinned.

"Kylo Ren is a lovely name." She said, before turning to the ship.

"Wait a minute," Kylo called. She turned back to look at him.

"What's your name?" He asked. She laughed.

"You don't know my name already?" She poked him in the stomach. Why did she keep poking him?

"It's (y/n) (l/n). Now come on Kylo, we haven't got all day to sit around talking." She flounced off towards the ship, and Kylo tried his best to follow her closely without being noticed.

She paused by the gangplank, waiting for the traffic up and down it to cease, before she dashed up it with surprising speed. Kylo had to actually run after her before she dragged him down behind a stack of crates near the railing.

"I thought you said you could do what you wanted?" Kylo hissed. She shushed him and nodded.

"Then why are we cowering behind crates?" He asked. She grinned sheepishly.

"Well, technically I'm supposed to be in a meeting with my father now. And they've likely noticed my absence." She said, glancing around. So she was running too? That intrigued him.

"Come on." She said, grabbing his shirt sleeve and dashing across the deck to the open hold and scurrying down the ladder. They were on the gun deck now, and she dragged him behind a cannon as a pair of the royal navy walked past. He turned, examining the cannon next to him. It was a demi cannon, it could probably fire a 15 kilogram solid shot straight through a pirate ship!

As he moved closer to it, (y/n) hissed at him to stop moving. He hadn't realized why until there was a sickening snap, and the demi cannon started rolling backwards into the walkway. He looked down to see he'd knocked the block from behind the wheel of the cannon. He ducked as it swiveled and almost smacked him in the face.

"Kylo!" (y/n) snapped as he scrambled backwards, bumping into the canon on the other side of her and sending that one rolling back too. There was a commotion on the upper deck as people flooded down to the gun deck, catching the cannons as the ship rocked lightly. They hadn't caused any damage, but Kylo knew that they could have, and that was enough to execute someone.

Strong hands grabbed him by the upper arms and dragged him to his feet. (y/n) stood, rushing towards the guards.

"Wait! Stop! Don't hurt him please!" She begged, trying to catch his shirt sleeve. The soldiers paused momentarily, before dragging him to the main deck. He heard the soldiers addressing (y/n) gently while they pulled him up the steps.

He was thrown, quite unceremoniously, before the captain of the ship. He looked up to see a face he recognized, Commodore Whiteford. He lowered his head, trying not to cry. He knew the punishment for stowaways, and it wasn't pretty.

"A stowaway Commodore, he tried to loose the cannons on the gun deck." The soldiers said. Kylo focused on the grain of the wood under his palms, willing it to be a fast execution.

"No! He's not a stowaway!" He heard (y/n) shout.

"Miss (l/n), what are you doing here? Everyone under your father's command is looking for you!" Commodore Whiteford snapped.

"I was exploring! He followed me onto the ship, it's not his fault, don't hurt him." She growled. Well, growled as much as she could. Commodore Whiteford looked at her with pity.

"Miss (l/n), you mustn't run off. Your father is worried sick over you. Come, my son will escort you back." Commodore Whiteford said, whistling shrilly. A lanky boy, older than Kylo, jogged over.

"Jackson, please make sure Miss (l/n) makes it safely back to her father." He said. The boy nodded, stepping forward and grabbing (y/n)'s arm harshly. She winced and let out a whimper. Something about the sound made Kylo's blood boil as he moved to stand up.

"Hey!" He shouted. No sooner than the word left his mouth did Commodore Whiteford have his rapier drawn with the blade pointed at Kylo.

"You will not address my son, street rat!" Whiteford snapped. Kylo cowered slightly before hearing (y/n) shout in pain. He looked over to see Jackson dragging her down the gangplank. She'd tripped and lost a shoe, allowing the splinters from the wooden plank to dig into the sole of her foot.

"You're hurting her!" He shouted. Before he could move he felt a searing pain across his face. He stumbled backwards, landing on his back on the deck. Blood dripped into his right eye, it stung. He lifted a hand to his face, brushing against the shred of fabric from the collar of his shirt. There was blood running down his face and soaking into his shirt from his chest. He couldn't breathe as it smeared across his hands.

"The mark of a stowaway, and treason." Commodore Whiteford snapped. He turned to the rest of the soldiers.

"Bind him, and drag him to the gallows. He is charged with attempting to pirate a ship of the royal navy." He growled. Kylo was too shocked to protest as the soldiers pulled him to his feet, shackling his arms behind his back with heavy iron cuffs.

***

"Father!" You shouted, tears streaming down your face as the nurse wrapped your foot with wet linens. Your father was pacing in front of you, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Mum always said he'd get wrinkles if he kept making that face. But she wasn't there to tell him that anymore. He turned to look at you, kneeling down next to you and taking your hands in his own.

"(y/n), my sweet, he's been charged with attempted piracy, there is nothing I can do for him." He said, looking at you sadly.

"He bears the mark of treason. Even if I could pardon him, there would be no life for him." He finished. You pouted and turned away from him.

"It was my fault." You whispered.

"What?"

"It was my fault we were on the Hyperion in the first place!" You shouted in his face.

"Young lady, do not lie to spare the life of a peasant." He snapped at you. You looked at him, your own thin brows furrowed this time.

"I'm not lying! It was my idea, he was trying to leave, but I asked him if he wanted to see the ship! I didn't think there would be any harm, we weren't going to steal it, just look!" You tried to explain frantically.

"Even if that's true darling, he's on the gallows march now. There is nothing to be done." He said softly.

"I will never speak to you again if he dies." You seethed. He let out a hefty sigh, rising to his feet and pacing again.

"You'll get over him my love." He said.

"No I won't! He's my friend!" You shouted again. Despite only spending a few hours with Kylo, he was one of your closest friends, well, friend that wasn't your cousin anyway. You thought of his crooked smile, his lips that looked so soft, and the long dark hair that had whipped around his face in the sea breeze.

"I love him." You pouted. That stopped him dead in his tracks, and you knew you'd found your in.

"You what?"

"I love him father! And if you let him die I shall never speak to you again! I'll follow mama to my grave and never speak another word to you!" You cried, willing the tears to fall again. You didn't realize it, but as the tears fell, your true feelings for the scrappy boy you'd lured onto the ship were spoken aloud.

Your father seemed taken aback as he watched you cry. The nurse had long since left the room, and he hissed lowly.

"My daughter will not fall in love with a peasant boy." You hoped you hadn't pushed him too far, this was Kylo's only chance.

"If I pardon him, you will never see him again, do you understand?" He snapped. You nodded frantically and he crossed the room, grabbing you by your arms and hauling you to your feet. You yelped as you put weight on your injured foot.

"Do you understand!" He yelled.

"Yes! Yes father, I understand." You cried in fear. He let you sit back in the chair, sweeping out of the room towards the stables. You followed him as quickly as you could on your injured foot.

When you caught up with the gallows march you easily spotted Kylo. He was the only child in the mix of adults. His shirt was ragged and his wrists bled from the iron cuffs. You had to resist the urge to gasp as you followed your father's white stallion on your small dappled gelding.

"General, wait." Your father called as he pulled his horse to a halt. You kept your gaze trained on Kylo as he looked up, and your heart sank.

His beautiful face was now split by a long red scar that started above his eyebrow, and ended below his collarbone. There was blood smeared across his face and chest, soaking into his shirt. There were tracks streaked into the blood where his tears had cut a path through the redness. You resisted the urge to leap from your horse and run to him.

The general approached Kylo with the ring of keys, unlatching the shackles from around his wrists and ankles. Kylo hesitated, shaking slightly before your father rode towards him. Kylo balked slightly as the stallion stopped just short of running him down.

"You are never to see my daughter again. Do you understand me?" He hissed. Kylo nodded frantically, stepping backwards. Your father kicked his horse harshly, causing the stallion to rear slightly as it screamed.

"Go!" He yelled. Kylo scrambled backwards, falling onto his back and pushing himself away from the horses hooves as it landed again. He rolled over, pushing himself to his feet and running away from the gallows march, through the crowd, and out of your sight.

55 notes · View notes

producingtrashycontent · 4 years

Note

took me a bit to get my words strait, the idea is like the Black Bulls and Blue Roses have to do a joint mission or something, they each send Magna and Sol not knowing who the others were going to send. so sol and magna have to get along to get the mission finished. something happens and sol gets hurt, and magna has to help her. he asks why she hates him, she explains why she hates men, and he just talks some sence into her. not sure on the rest though.

OMG I FINALLY FINISHED! Damn this took me much longer than I thought, but here it is. I personally don't think it's my best writing, but I blame that on finals. I also made this longer than my usual requests. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Don't Judge A Book By Its Cover

Magna took a hesitant glance around the common space. There was no one there, but Magna could never be too sure. That pudding thief was out to get him. This time, Magna would make sure he didn't lose his pudding to that jerk. With one more hesitant glance, Magna swiftly opened the pantry and snatched a pudding cup from one of the lower cabinets.

The lightning bolt flew past Magna's head and struck the pantry. He'd been spotted. Magna dodged another lightning bolt that struck the place he'd been standing moments before. A nearby hallway appeared in Magna's peripheral vision. He bolted for the hallway, but he ran into someone before he could leave.

"The hell? It was peaceful while I took my dump. Now I have to deal with this?"

Magna dropped down to one knee immediately. "Captain Yami Sir!"

"Better run Magna, or your clothes might catch fire!"

Yami sighed before snapping his fingers and pointing to the ground in front of him. Luck appeared instantly and sat on the floor beside Magna.

"Hey Captain! You finally going to fight me? How much do you want?"

"Damnit Luck. I'm not going to fight you. I have a special mission."

Magna nearly jumped. A secret mission! This would definitely get him stronger than Luck. Yami ignored Luck's bouncing and pointed at Magna.

"You. I need you for this mission. It's going to be a joint mission with a member of the Blue Rose Knights. We can only have one or two people go, so I'll send you this time. It'd be too much trouble for both you and Luck to go."

"Awww," Luck groaned. "But I want to go too!"

Yami ignored Luck's plea and turned him full attention to Magna. "You leave here tomorrow. I need you to investigate some suspicious dealings going on near Rayaka Village. Since you lived there as a kid, I'd figured you were best fit for the job."

"Thank you very much Yami Sir!" Magna stood and saluted. "I won't let you down!"

•~•~•~•

Sol groaned as her squad mates all chatted about their boyfriends. What was the appeal with men anyway? They were all dirty, idiotic, and other things that Sol couldn't remember off the top of her head.

"I went to the beach with my boyfriend a few months ago, and he was so ripped!"

"Oh wow, really? I want a peek of that!"

"No way! He's mine." The two girls chuckled between each other.

Sol rolled her eyes as she poked at her dinner. It was very hard to eat when her squad mates would talk about men non-stop. Remembering the men who disappointed her, Sol scoffed and shoved some vegetables into her mouth. Her food didn't taste as good when she reminisced about her past.

The chatter between the girls quickly died down. Sol automatically saluted when she spotted her captain out of the corner of her eye.

"Big Sis!"

Charlotte rolled her eyes. "Sol, I've told you before to call me 'Captain', not Big Sis."

"Ok, Big Sis!"

Ignoring Sol, Charlotte walked away, but she motioned for Sol to follow her. After some time, Charlotte finally stopped.

"So, what do you need me for?"

"I have a special mission for you."

Sol smiled. "Me? Really?"

Charlotte nodded. "I need you to investigate something near Rayaka Village. You will be working with a member of the Black Bulls. Get yourself ready. You leave early tomorrow morning."

With a glimmer in her eye, Sol saluted her captain. "Yes!"

•~•~•~•

Magna squatted on a rock that overlooked Rayaka from a cliff. The breeze blew gently around Magna as he stole another glance around the area. It seemed like the perfect day for a secret mission, and yet, his partner from the Blue Rose Knights hadn't arrived yet.

"Damn, when are they gonna get here? It's almost noon. The sun's gonna roast me before they get here." Magna grumbled.

"No way, funglasquent?"

Magna whipped his head around at the sound of the voice from behind him. His eyes landed on a familiar, tall figure.

"You? The giant girl from the Royal Knights Exam?"

Sol groaned. "Unbelievable! Why did I get stuck with you?"

"Same question to you, giant girl!" Magna sighed as he stole another glance at Rayaka. "Captain Yami gave me this mission because I lived in this town when I was young, so I can navigate around here better than my squad mates."

Sol hesitated a moment. That was a valid reason for the short punk to come along on this mission. Charlotte didn't give her an explicit reason for coming. It must be because she was the one who was best suited for this mission.

"Well, my captain believed I was the one best suited for the mission."

"Even so, you gotta listen to me this time. I know this village like the back of my hand. If we want to catch those magic item smugglers, you have to follow my orders." Magna spoke dismissively as he turned his attention back to Rayaka. He usually wasn't as into missions as he was now. Any threat to Rayaka was a personal threat against Magna.

"Who died and made you captain?" Sol spat. "I don't see why you have to lead the mission."

"Ugh, don't you get it, giant girl? I lived here. I know all the best places to hide and store expensive things. I can catch those smugglers. Now, we have to cooperate to get this mission done."

Sol pondered Magna's words for a moment. She did want to please Captain Charlotte and finish this mission, but she didn't want to listen to a man of all people. Listen to a man or finish the mission successfully. Those were Sol's two options. After a few moments, Sol settled on the best option: listening to the glasses punk.

"F-fine." Sol spat. "I'll listen to you."

"Finally!" Magna cheered. "See that Yami Sir? I'm following in your footsteps!"

Not wanting to watch Magna cheer, Sol turned her eyes to Rayaka. She spotted a group of people flying on brooms a good distance away from the village.

"Hey, funglasquent. There's a group of people approaching Rayaka from the east." Sol tapped her foot on the ground as Magna stopped his cheers to look in the direction Sol mentioned. Sure enough, there was a large group of people approaching. They stopped abruptly and descended into the forest below.

"That's kinda sus..." Magna muttered.

"Sus?" Sol echoed.

Magna nodded. "Yeah, sus. Short for supilicious or something."

"Ugh, you mean suspicious, don't you?"

"Exactly."

Sol had wanted to laugh, but that would mean admitting his joke was funny. He was serious, which made it funnier. Sol had a feeling he wasn't joking though.

"Alright tall girl! Hop on my Crazy Cyclone and we'll get to those bandits in a jiffy." Magna leaned against his broom, which was modified to look like some weird contraption.

Rolling her eyes, Sol made her way over to the Crazy Cyclone and sat on the back. "This thing is horrid, but at least it matches your punky vibe."

"Aww thanks!" Magna smiled as he sat on the Cyclone before freezing. "Wait, that wasn't a compliment!"

"Let's get a move on, funglasquent."

Magna started up the Cyclone as he grumbled under his breath. Before they took off, Magna told her to hold onto him somewhere. Sol considered letting go and jumping off, but she reluctantly gave in and held on. She wanted to complete the mission Charlotte gave her. Nothing would stop her, not even a gross man.

•~•~•~•

Eventually, Magna landed the Crazy Cyclone close to where the group landed. It was definitely dangerous for Sol and Magna to approach the large group by themselves, but they were the only ones who could.

"Why did that guy disappear into a hole in the ground?" Magna pointed at a nearby tree with an odd-looking branch.

"Did he?" Sol asked. She doubted that was possible, but thieves would do anything for money.

Magna nodded. "Yeah. He pulled on that funky looking tree branch. I think we should follow him."

"Whatever idea you have is dumb. We'll probably get killed going down there."

Magna crossed his arms. "Well what's your plan, O Wise One?"

Sol stared off to the side before shrugging her shoulders. Groaning, Magna turned his attention back to the tree. As he thought about what to do, an idea struck him like Luck shooting him with lightning.

"Hey, tall girl."

"Yeah?"

Magna rubbed his hands together. "What if we wait here for them to come out!"

Sol arched an eyebrow but said nothing. Magna kicked a nearby pebble. "Damn, that sounded way cooler in my head."

•~•~•~•

After several hours of waiting, the sun was setting and Sol and Magna had done nothing. The suspects hadn't come out of their little hole in the ground. Sol was seriously considered heading home until she imagined how her captain would react. After a few more moments of thought, Sol decided to stay.

"Ugh, I thought this was supposed to be a secret mission!" Magna grumbled from the ground. "I was ready to kick some ass!"

"I'll kick your puny little man ass if you don't shut up."

Magna sat up defiantly. "Damn, what's with you giant girl? What did I ever do to you?"

Sol turned her face away. "You're a man. That's my problem with you."

"So, you hate me for something I can't control?"

Before Sol could retort, there was some rumbling nearby that shook the ground. Sol felt a body slam into her and knock her to the ground. Magna fell on top of her as a boulder rolled over the place she stood moments ago.

"Funglasquent, you saved me." Sol muttered.

Magna smirked. "Yep. That's what a real man does."

Magna offered his hand to Sol, who slapped it away and stood on her own. A small pile of rocks fell from the small hill they camped beside to reveal an entrance to a cave. Sol jerked her head in the direction of the cave.

"Hey, funglasquent. I think we should head there."

Magna shook his head rapidly. "Umm, I don't know. That cave is kinda spooky. What if something tries to eat us?"

Sol smirked. "I thought you were a "real man". Or are you a scared little whimp who can't complete a task even when life opens up a path for him?"

Magna seemed to physically shake off his insecurities. "Y-yeah! I'm a real man! I'll lead the way."

Sol allowed herself to chuckle at Magna's antics as he tried to overcome his nerves and step into the daunting cave.

•~•~•~•

It was odd that they walked for so long without encountering anything. Eventually, the cave got dark enough to where Magna had to create a small flame to be able to see. Magna kept one hand against one side of the cave and Sol kept hers on the other. The cave grew colder the further they walked. There were a few times when Sol and Magna slipped on the smooth stone. The stone sloped gently downward, but as they walked further, the ground sloped more. Eventually, Sol and Magna felt the stone slope closer together until they found an opening in the stone.

Voices floated in from the opening in the stone. Magna and Sol hid on either side of the opening. There was a group of people discussing different subjects while tossing around what appeared to be magic items between each other. Magna slipped into the cavern and ushered Sol to follow him. They eventually found a stack of boxes to hide behind and listened in on the conversation.

"If we take this route, there will be fewer Magic Knights."

"That route may have less Magic Knights, but the Magic Knights that are there are from the Crimson Lion Kings. They're too powerful. My route has more of them, but these guys are from the Aqua Deer. They're much weaker."

"Either way, we have to get these tools across the Grand Magic Zone before the end of the month. The Lords and Lady await us."

"Magic item smugglers," Sol whispered. "Should've known."

Magna clenched his fist. "Damn those bastards."

Magna missed the moment the smugglers fell silent, but he noticed the deafening silence a moment later.

"Someone's here."

"I sense some weak mana from over there!"

Sol felt her heart leapt into her throat. Grabbing Magna's hand, she pulled him into a crouched position so they'd be ready to run at a moment's notice. Unfortunately, that position wouldn't help Sol avoid the box that got knocked into her head by a blast of magic. Sol didn't feel her body hit the ground, but that was probably due to the adrenaline in her system. She could sense Magna firing off some spells before he slung her over his back and ran. He turned several times to shoot spells at their assailants, but he spent most of his energy into running. Sol felt her limbs grow heavy to the point she couldn't move them anymore. A dull throb came from her head, but Sol was too tired to pay much attention to it. As Magna stopped shooting spells to break out into a sprint, Sol felt the darkness overtake her vision.

•~•~•~•

Sol woke up to the sound of a crackling fire. Her front side was warm due to the fire, but her back was frozen. As she opened her eyes, she spotted Magna poking at a fire in a pit. When Magna spotted Sol moving, he gave her a small smile and wrapped a cloth around her.

"Hey, you feeling ok? I know getting hit in the head by a metal crate is gonna mess with ya a bit, but I hope you're not too messed up."

Sol squinted at Magna. Why was he being nice? In her life, men were never like this. They were all bark and no bite. But Magna was different. He seemed to represent men as they were portrayed in stories. He was very kind and chivalrous. Sol's mouth didn't seem to catch up with her mind, because she gave Magna a nasty answer that she immediately regretted.

"I'm fine. I could've done fine without you. All you men are worthless. I would recover better without you."

Magna frowned, although this frown was more hurt than anger. "Well, damn. Sorry I tried helping you to make sure you didn't die. Unfortunately, I can't leave you until we finish our mission."

Sol wanted to say something, but she was sure her mouth would betray her, so she said nothing. Magna tossed a fewn more sticks into the fire before sitting back.

"Why do you hate men anyway? It's not as if we choose our genders before we're born, so it's not fair to hate us for something we can't control, ya know?"

Sol wrapped the blanket closer to her. "I...I've never had a single positive experience with any man. When I was little, all the men in my village boasted about everything with nothing to back it up. The boys my age were the same. They treated me like a delicate flower that needed to be protected. When the time came for them to protect my village, they ran away like cowards. I stood my ground and fought, but the attackers overpowered me. Luckily, the Blue Rose Knights showed up in time and Captain Charlotte saved me. Ever since then, all the men I've met or worked with have been the same sad, disappointing losers."

So that's why she's so loyal to her captain and her squad. I'd be the same way if I was in her shoes. "Well, that really sucks. I'm gonna be honest, I was kinda the same way for a portion of my youth, but a great old man whipped me into shape to become the man I am today."

"Old man?" Sol echoed.

Magna nodded. "Yeah. There's a neighboring village which I used to invade all the time. But each time, the chief of the village gave me a lesson I'd never forget. Unfortunately, I was a little punk that ignored the lessons and did the same stupid things over again. But I learned and grew into a better person."

"You're not like that anymore..."

Magna removed his sunglasses and glanced up to the sky. Sol was immediately drawn in to his eyes. "I get that you don't like guys like you described, but not all guys are like that. I could give you my squad as an example. My best bud Luck, why he's a battle freak that thinks about nothing else other than fighting. Gauche, he's just creepily obsessed with his sister. He's recently started to warm up to the rest of us. Gordon, he's real quiet and creepy, but he's a real sweet guy that wants the best for everyone. Captain Yami is a manly as they come. He doesn't care about how strong or weak you are, or who you are or where you came from. If you can grow stronger, you're cool in Yami's eyes. And little Asta, or as I like to call him, Rasta. He the manliest of all of us. He fights to protect people without a single thought about himself. I may call myself a man, but lil' Rasta's the real man here. What I'm trying to say is not all guys are bad. As the old saying goes, "Don't judge a book by its cover." Sure, there's always guys out there who are jackasses, but if you get to know us, you'll discover that we're not all that bad."

Magna drew in a deep breath after his little speech. He was right. All Sol had done her whole life was judge men based on how she had experienced them throughout her earlier years. If she could get to know guys, maybe she might find one who's not so bad. Sol ended that train of thought as she glanced over at Magna. He's a short punk with glasses, but he's not so bad. I guess becoming friends with him isn't the worst thing in the world.

#black clover #magna swing #sol marron #magna x sol

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cookiehusky799 · 4 years

Text

I had this scenario keep playing in my head so I thought I’d bring it to life.

An Overboard Surprise

“Hey, Varian!” The alchemist looked up from his plans to help restore the King and Queen’s memories to see Lance standing in the doorframe of the royal lab.

“Oh, hi, Lance. What’s up?” Varian still don’t know about him yet, but he’ll be friendly until he gets to know him. Lance had a big grin on his face as he motioned him to follow. With a shrug, Varian put down his quill and followed Lance. What is so important than making plans? he thought to himself.

Lance led him to the royal dining room. Opening the doors, he peeked in the room with Varian doing the same. “What is it?” The alchemist asked him.

“Look at that sandwich.”

Varian noticed the double stacked sandwich sitting on the table. He frowned. This is what he wanted to show him?! Food? “Yeah, I see it. I see and make sandwiches all the time. So?”

Lance chuckled at his sassy remark.”I think it’s made for someone extra special.” Varian glared up at him. “Okay, Eugene told me you love food, so don’t even think about eating it.”

“Alright, alright. I won’t.” The sly tone in the large man’s voice made Varian a bit skeptical. “You know what? I’m gonna guard that sandwich from you and maybe anyone else until this person comes for it.” The alchemist declared, stepping into the room. Lance rolled his eyes heartedly. “ Well, go right ahead, little man. No one’s stopping you.” he said, making a shooing motion with his hands.

And with that, he left closing the doors leaving the alchemist really confused.

“Um...ok?”

That was strange.

He went over to the table, standing in front of it with his arms crossed. Varian felt like a royal guard for some reason. At least he’ll be an competent royal guard.

Just then, he caught the scent of the sandwich causing him to look back at it.

Is...is that ham? Varian turned around so he can get a better look. He saw the right amount of ham on the double stacked sandwich. The alchemist smiled to himself. “Someone can make a well planned out sandwich. Well, not as better as me, heh.”

Staring at this masterpiece was starting make him hungry. Varian felt his mouth watering. “It looks.... really good actually.” He licked his lips. The alchemist snapped out his trance.

“Gah!” he cried, turning back around. “No, Varian. Y-You can’t eat somebody’s sandwich!”

Varian didn’t know how long he been standing. Maybe for one hour or something. There was no clock in the room. The alchemist groaned as he tried to wake up his feet that had fallen asleep from standing too long. He walked to the other doors and peeked outside. The hall was buzzing with work. So far no one dared to come in to eat the sandwich. Varian closed the door with a sigh. Where is this person? At least I’m doing a good deed for someone.

The alchemist glanced at the sandwich to check on it.

Still intact.

Varian suddenly heard his stomach rumbling. He gasped, putting his hand on his stomach. “Uh-oh.”

It’s clear that the double stacked sandwich was making him hungry. But he had to control himself for this person who is coming for his lunch. The alchemist continued on his job, now trying to ignore his stomach.

I can do this. I can do this. I can- I wonder what it taste like?

Varian went back to the sandwich. Maybe if he can just sample a tiny piece of ham. So he did....and man, did it tasted great!

Varian detected the ham was high quality. Not like back in Old Corona. The alchemist swallowed nervously.

“Maybe just....one m-more piece wouldn’t hurt.” After he ate another sample he carefully pulled off, his belly rumbled again. Varian bit his lip, knowing that he lost control.

Rapunzel and Eugene walked down the halls, just finished royal duties. “I wonder if Varian found the sandwich I made for him.” Rapunzel said.

Eugene chuckled. “I don’t think he got out that lab, so I had Lance lead him to the dining room.” He put his arm around her.” You know how busy he is. The kid never stops.”

The princess had to admit he was right. When Varian starts on a project, he has full focus on said project or experiment. “Well, hopefully he likes it.”

Just then, they heard someone moaning and groaning. Pascal on Rapunzel’s shoulder squeaked in alarm.

“What the heck was that?” Eugene asked, coming to a stop along with Rapunzel. Listening to the sound, the princess could identify who it was.

“That sounds like Varian!”

They rushed to the dining room. Eugene kicked open the doors. “Varian?”

The alchemist was sitting on the floor by the table doubled over in pain as he hold his stomach. Rapunzel went over to him, concerning expression on her face. “Varian? What’s wrong?”

Varian looked up at her, now noticing the princess standing in front of him. “Oh. Rapunzel, Eugene. I...I didn’t notice your here.” The ex thief came over as well. “We heard you moaning.” he told him.

The alchemist glanced away. “I feel so bad. I-I was suppose to guard this person’s sandwich, but I end up eating it.”

“So much for making a good deed.” Varian sighed, closing his eyes. Rapunzel and Eugene both exchanged looks at each other. Then, they burst out laughing. Varian opened his eyes and stared up at them, surprised. Why are they laughing? “What?”

Rapunzel gave a apologetic smile. “Oh, Varian. That sandwich was for you.” she said.

“Really?”

“Yes. I should’ve put a note on it.” Eugene rolled his eyes while smiling. “I think Lance gave you a hint that it was yours, kid.” The alchemist grinned sheepishly. “Heh. I didn’t catch it. So...who made it?”

Eugene pointed to the princess.

“Rapunzel?”

Rapunzel nodded. “Yup. I made it perfect for you.” At this, Varian want to hit himself of how dumb he is.

“I must be dumb today. I should’ve known.” he muttered.

Pascal chirped. “Pascal’s right, Varian. Your not dumb. You just didn’t know.”

“Thank you for the sandwich, Princess.” Varian said smiling at her. “Your welcome, Varian. How was it?” The alchemist licked his lips again, remembering how it tasted. “Amazing. Heh, almost as good as mine.”

Rapunzel raised her eyebrow amused. “Oh, really?”

“Oh, yeah. I can make a mean sandwich.”

Rapunzel chuckled. “ We’ll have to do a contest some time. But who will be our tester?” Rapunzel and Varian both looked at Eugene. The ex thief started to shake his head no, but saw the look on his girlfriend’s face. He let out a defeated sigh. “Fine.”

With a squeal, Rapunzel hugged him beaming as Varian chuckled at the scene. Varian stopped laughing when he felt a sharp pain in his stomach. He groaned.

“Ohhhh.”

Rapunzel let go of Eugene and got on the floor with the alchemist. “What’s the matter?” she asked.

“I....I think I ate too fast. My stomach....oh, it hurts!”

Rapunzel and Eugene exchange concerned looks. They didn’t expect him to actually wolfed down his sandwich. “Varian, let me see your stomach.” she told him in a gentle voice. Varian was a bit uncomfortable but he let her check his stomach. His belly bulged out just a little, which he was relieved for but still, it’s embarrassing.

The ex thief suppressed a snicker. “ I thought you would take your time, but you actually stuffed your face!” Varian looked at him blushing. “I know. I-I don’t know what happened. I think Rapunzel’s sandwich made me lose self control. The ratio of the ham was-” Varian did a chef kiss gesture.

Eugene bust out laughing. “Oh, Varian!” He wiped a tear from his eye. Rapunzel giggled. “ You should have just took your time instead of getting a tummy ache.”

Varian tried to look defensive, but it was hard when his stomach hurts. “It was that good!”

“I think we should get the doctor for you. Maybe get you in a guest room while we’re at it.” suggested Eugene. Rapunzel agreed. “Good idea, Eugene. Can you get up, Varian?” The alchemist tried to get up but winced as his stomach protested. He slumped back down. “Ugh. No.”

Eugene stuck out his hand. “Here. I’ll help you up.” Varian took his hand, the other clutching his stomach. “Please go slow.” he told him.

Eugene took Varian to a guest room while Rapunzel went to get the royal medic. The royal medic checked Varian and gave him medicine for his stomach ache. She requested him to rest which Varian reluctantly did, lying down on the bed. The alchemist had taken off his boots, not wanting to stain the bed. After he set his goggles on the night stand, another twinge of pain caused him to gritted his teeth. He wrapped his arms around his middle. Oh, why did I do this? Varian thought.

He can hear his stomach protesting. Guess I’ll get back on finding how to restore Rapunzel’s parents memories once I feel better. A knock prompted Varian to look over to see Rapunzel with Ruddiger. “Hey, Varian. How you feeling?”

“Not so good.” The alchemist replied, wincing a bit. “But hopefully I’ll be ok.” Walking over to the bed, she petted the raccoon who was held watching his friend with a concern look on his face. “I told Ruddiger what happened to you so you have company.”

Varian smiled. “Oh, thanks. Hey, buddy.” Ruddiger hopped from Rapunzel’s arms and on Varian’s stomach. The weight of the raccoon made the alchemist groan in pain.

“Ruddiger, g-get off my stomach!” Ruddiger quickly got off, sitting beside him. He chittered his apology to his friend. “Are you ok, Varian?” Rapunzel asked.

“I’m fine.” Varian said, trying to soothe his aching middle. “Ugh. I don’t think my stomach is.” The alchemist’s stomach grumbles in response. Ruddiger folded his ears and nuzzles Varian’s face.

Varian chuckled, reaching to pet him. “I forgive you, buddy. I know you didn’t mean to.”

Rapunzel started to rub her arm nervously. “Sorry you got a stomach ache, Varian. But at least you liked the sandwich. That’s what it matters, heh.”

Varian agreed. “Yeah. Now I know how Ruddiger feels when he eats too many apples.” The raccoon flicked his tail angrily as he crossed his arms.

Varian and Rapunzel both laughed.

That’s the end! I hope you enjoyed!

#tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #tangled varian #tangled lance #tangled eugene #tangled rapunzel #tangled pascal #tangled ruddiger #fanfic #brotp: i'm not giving up on you

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akechicrimes · 5 years

Note

Prompt 37? Futaba and Akechi platonic/Futago siblings?

37. “Follow me. It’s okay, just hold my hand.”

after akira leaves tokyo, futaba does just fine without her key item, except for when she doesnt.

(one of them AUs were goro survives the engine room and rejoins the phantom thieves. no i will not explain. persona 5 canon AND persona 5 royal do not interact. for reference in this universe futaba and akechi are half siblings but only akechi knows that)

“Next time you see me, I’ll be a whole new person,” Futaba tells Akira excitedly on his second-to-last day in Tokyo. “I’m going back to school, I’m out and about by myself—oh! Oh! Did I tell you I said yes to Kosei? I told Kosei I wanted to go to Shujin and they offered me scholarship! And I went to the subway station by myself yesterday!”

They’re crammed into Akira’s Leblanc attic, sitting around a cake that literally none of them were capable of baking themselves, so they’d bought the thing from a bakery and decorated it with little black and red hearts. Ryuji is passing around his gross soda, while Ann is recounting some story that doesn’t matter with incredible enthusiasm. Makoto looks like she’s determined to enjoy herself and will hear no argument.

The whole thing is incredibly morbid, if you ask Futaba. It feels less like they’re waiting for Akira to leave Tokyo and more like they’re attending Akira’s funeral. Akechi in particular looks like he’s regretting attending, which honestly tickles Futaba more than it should, that the most dishonest Phantom Thief seems to be the only one looking as honestly put-off by the entire affair as everyone else is determined not to be.

That’s everyone else’s problem. Futaba might not be happy Akira has to leave, but she’s proud. She’s sad that Akira has to leave, but also she promised Akira that by the time that he had to leave, she’d be able to get around on her own, without clinging to him for support. And she is able. She kept her promise.

Tomorrow might be the day that Akira has to go, but today is the day that Futaba is Officially Recovered.

Akira does that annoying thing he does where he puts his hand on her head and messes up all her hair, like he’s a human cat showing affection by pissing everyone off. Futaba yelps. “Look at you. You don’t need me at all.”

“I told you that I’d be ready to say goodbye by the time you had to go back to your hometown,” says Futaba. “I haven’t broken my promises yet, have I?”

There’s a burst of laughter from Haru over something Yusuke said, who looks rather surprised to discover that he said anything funny. Both Makoto and Akechi snicker at him, and then stop immediately to glare at each other the second they realize they’ve accidentally wound up sharing an opinion.

Akira ignores them. “Well, you can still text me if you need me. Or call.”

“I’m trying to tell you I’m getting better and I don’t need you,” Futaba grumbles. “Also, what kind of psychopath do you think I am to call someone on the phone?”

“That’s what phones are for.”

“Calling people is scary.”

“I thought you were getting better?” Akira teases.

“I am!” she says, pointing a finger at him. “I am! Just you watch, Akira. I’m getting better every day.”

Six months after joining Kosei, Futaba locks herself in her room and does not reemerge for seven days straight.

She tells Sojiro that she’s sick. Sojiro tells the school that Futaba told him that she’s sick. She definitely fakes a hell of a good cough, and the school lets Yusuke send her her all the homework that she was supposed to be doing in the first place, but Futaba already knows it’s only a matter of time before Sojiro rats on her, and she won’t even blame him because it’ll be for her own good.

In the meantime, she has stashes of crackers and peanut butter from back when she was a full-time hermit. She hates the taste of peanut butter within three days. Her bed is a relief, soft like a home she never left, up until it isn’t anymore. It’s too soft. No matter how she lies on it, no matter how soft it is, a mattress just isn’t comfortable when you’ve been lying on it for seventy-four hours. It’s hot. Smothering. She feels like she’s going to drown in the blankets and they’ll have to fish her moldy, sweaty corpse out of the bottomless quicksand pit of her too-soft mattress.

The thing about being a shut-in is that you don’t actually like your room very much. It’s not a relief, or an oasis, or even a place you enjoy. You’re just terrified of everywhere else more.

She plays a lot of video games that she doesn’t even like. She watches a lot of Twitch streamers she doesn’t even like. She doesn’t do her homework. She ignores Sojiro. She pretends she’s alright to everyone who texts. She wakes up and goes to sleep and thinks about going outside and goes to sleep and wakes up and wonders if the whole last year and her cautious baby steps back into the world outside was all just a hazy dream.

There aren’t a lot of Thieves left in Tokyo, weirdly. Haru and Makoto both graduated, off doing business and law junk that honestly makes Futaba’s brains want to crawl out her ears, but all the numbers check out and Haru’s not in the red yet, and Futaba’s looked at enough people’s dirty laundry to appreciate Haru’s clean ledger. Akira’s back in his dinky hicktown, where there’s barely anything electronic connected to Wifi worth breaking into for surveillance, which is really boring.

Ann’s been doing so many modeling gigs that she might as well not be attending Shujin anymore. She’s practically surrounded by electronics, and all of them are connected to the internet. On any given day, Futaba can snoop through the internet trail of electronic file cabinets full of images of her face, emails about her face, paychecks for her face. Futaba sends Ann more than one email about creepy old dudes making gross comments about her, along with a bunch of other illegal shit they’ve done, plus their offshore accounts full of cash if Ann wants Futaba to sic a lawyer on them.

Ann looks like she’s having fun. Ann looks different on the other side of the computer screen, like she’s less real. Like she’s not someone Futaba really knows. Like Ann’s not someone Futaba’s literally cried on at one point in her life.

Ryuji is definitely attending Shujin, but between physical therapy, catching up on a whole year of track, athletic scholarship hunting, and studying for college admissions tests, Ryuji seems to have been swallowed whole by Shujin, really. Out of boredom, one day, Futaba went down that rabbit hole of researching what it takes to get recruited for track in college, and holy shit–apparently Ryuji’s coach was supposed to be helping him with that whole process, but of course Ryuji barely has a proper coach ever since Kamoshida left Shujin’s track program in pieces. The amount of networking he’s doing is insane, especially for one teenaged boy who barely remembers his homework every night.

Sometimes, when Ryuji’s forgotten to check his email in a while and there’s a message from a coach sitting in his inbox, Futaba will send him a text to make him check it. And then it’s all, What were you doing looking at my emails, Futaba and Which of my other passwords do you know, Futaba, as if Ryuji doesn’t just use the same password over and over and has literally nobody but himself to blame.

So it’s really just Futaba, Yusuke, and–weirdly–Akechi, who’s off doing his gap year and said he was going to go abroad, but then he never did. Not to be a huge snoop, but Futaba went digging through his junk for about five seconds and then she never did it again, because she felt really weird about finding out that the guy that killed her mom is looking into social work, volunteerism, and reforming the justice system.

Like. The man who killed the Thieves’ leader is now literally out there saving orphans. It’s wild.

She might’ve been the one to tell Akechi that he can start over again and do better, but she reserves the right to at least feel weird about it.

She does not call Akira. She talks to Yusuke at school, but she refuses to ask him to accompany her on the subway. She should be recovered by now, shouldn’t she? She was supposed to have gotten over all that when Akira left Tokyo. She’s doing fine. She’s just looking out for her friends. Her, living vicariously through her friends, who’re growing up and growing away, flourishing into young adults? Never.

Everything is the same.

Didn’t she help kill a god last year?

Didn’t she work so hard to get out of her room, to make friends, to reconnect with Kana-chan?

Didn’t she work so hard to change herself?

Didn’t she help change the world?

Everything is the same.

Tuesday, 1:43 PM

YUSUKE: Futaba?

FUTABA: yo inari

FUTABA: u got more homework for me or what

YUSUKE: Ah, no.

YUSUKE: I think your teacher finds it suspicious that I’m sending you homework when I’m not in your grade, as it is.

FUTABA: oh no

FUTABA: what a shame that we didn’t have an entire year of experience with getting away with wildly illegal magic brain crimes without raising any suspicion

FUTABA: truly emailing me like four pieces of paper a day is far too difficult

YUSUKE: Well, I can’t get your homework from your teacher, but I can give you more homework if you’d like.

FUTABA: ok bucko that wasn’t a challenge

YUSUKE: There’s a math problem set that’s been incredibly dull to get through when I have more important pieces I could be working on…

FUTABA: inari im sorry to say but

FUTABA: me literally doing your homework for you is about a thousand times more illegal than you giving me my homework when ur not in my grade

YUSUKE: Oh, is it?

FUTABA: wh

FUTABA: are y

FUTABA: what do you mean OH IS IT

FUTABA: did you not KNOW ur not allowed to have other ppl do ur hw????

FUTABA: inari have u been making other people do ur hw for u so u can have more time to do art?????????

FUTABA: no shut up i dont want to know

FUTABA: i will not be ur accomplice

FUTABA: i see ur little speech bubble thingamajig yusuke i said stop typing forever and ever

YUSUKE: I can’t invite you to the art gallery tomorrow if I can’t type.

YUSUKE: It also seems impractical for you to outlaw me from texting forever.

FUTABA: i literally did not say that

YUSUKE: You said, and I quote,

YUSUKE: “Yusuke, I said stop typing forever and ever.”

FUTABA: ok i know it looks like i said that but please im begging u it’s literally just an exaggeration

YUSUKE: As Makoto would say, it’s hardly an enforceable law.

FUTABA: u literally texted my sick and crusty ass just to give me a hard time

YUSUKE: Are you about recovered from your cold?

FUTABA: and now u have the nerve to ask me to go to ur art show thing

YUSUKE: I didn’t say that.

FUTABA: oh really

FUTABA: what were u gonna ask me about then

YUSUKE: The art show, naturally.

YUSUKE: But you could have done me the courtesy of letting me ask.

FUTABA: all that on the day of my daughter’s wedding and now u want me to do u a solid

FUTABA: well i have news for u

FUTABA: the answer

FUTABA: is yeah

FUTABA: sure why not

YUSUKE: Oh, excellent.

YUSUKE: I thought that you might decline on account of your illness.

FUTABA: i’m not a punk bitch

FUTABA: i’m going

FUTABA: u were only working all those paintings for like two months i wanna see their oily faces in person

YUSUKE: Just because they were made with oil paints does not mean that they are oily.

FUTABA: cant wait to see my oily boys

YUSUKE: Unfortunately, I have to set up the event beforehand, so I will not be able to accompany you on the way here.

YUSUKE: Will you be alright by yourself?

FUTABA: uh

FUTABA: hmm

FUTABA: how oily are these boys in case i need to call a rain check

YUSUKE: Hmm.

YUSUKE: Perhaps someone else can go with you.

YUSUKE: Let me see if I can find someone.

FUTABA: what like one of ur art friends

FUTABA: i’m not going with anyone i dont know sry

YUSUKE: I’ll keep it in mind.

Tuesday, 1:59 PM

YUSUKE: Unfortunately, Ann and Ryuji were not available. Both of them will be coming late to the art show.

YUSUKE: Fortunately, Goro is.

FUTABA: whomst

YUSUKE: Goro Akechi?

YUSUKE: Crow, in case you know multiple Goro Akechis.

FUTABA: no like why u callin him goro

YUSUKE: I asked him if I could and he said yes.

YUSUKE: There’s not many people left in Tokyo who were part of the Thieves.

YUSUKE: I’m not exactly popular at school myself, so I thought it prudent to hold onto the connections I already had.

FUTABA: hhhhhhhhhhhhh

FUTABA: but why him……………………………………….

YUSUKE: Has he done something wrong?

YUSUKE: Well.

YUSUKE: Besides the obvious.

YUSUKE: Last I heard, you were quite vocally supportive of Goro making a change for the better,but have you prehaps reconsidered?

FUTABA: i mean he’s always been nice to me

FUTABA: like even before he was on the team as crow

FUTABA: and then later after he like lost his shit and tried to kill us

FUTABA: he was also like weirdly nice

FUTABA: even if he was dressed as a tokusatsu villain

FUTABA: but

FUTABA: i

FUTABA: ok this is gonna sound really weird but like

FUTABA: you know how i said that the person to take me to the art show has to be someone that i know

YUSUKE: Yes.

FUTABA: even though akechi was one of the thieves at the end

FUTABA: i feel like i dont really know him

FUTABA: he like had that whole breakdown where he spilled all his kylo ren sadstuck junk and then he peeled his dumb ass up off the floor and then we beat up his dad in a dark alley

FUTABA: and then i guess akira likes him a bunch and hangs out with him and i guess probably talked to him about all that stuff that happened

FUTABA: and also i think ann talks to him

FUTABA: and also haru i think for some reason……………………..

FUTABA: but like i feel like. we as a group. never really uhhhhhhh

FUTABA: got to know him very well i guess

FUTABA: because he spent like the whole year being a fake ass bitch

FUTABA: and then by the time he wasnt, the thieves were busy literally fighting god, and it was all business business business

FUTABA: ughghfhg i guess this is just a really long way of saying that like yeah ok i guess i do know him but i dont think i really do

FUTABA: even when he was off the shits in the engine room it was like

FUTABA: somehow that was not……………………………….. really him

FUTABA: idk maybe this is just my Thoughts but like

FUTABA: idk some people are like “your true self is who you are at your worst” and

FUTABA: yeah maybe you are some PART of urself when youre at your worst but like

FUTABA: also not???

FUTABA: that can’t be it

FUTABA: that’s not ALL of you

FUTABA: so all i ever saw was him when he was being a fake ass barbie prince and then when he was like actively losing his shit

FUTABA: and both of those were like. two types of fake ass barbie prince

FUTABA: except obviously the one where he started screamin about murder and trying to kill joker was like, fake ass serial killer barbie prince

FUTABA: anyway i dont buy it for a second that seeing akechi at his worst means that i know the first thing about his “”“”“”“”“true self”“”“”“”“”“”“

FUTABA: like i know that i technically met him but also at the same time i dont think ive ever really actually met this dude

FUTABA: uh tldr what’s the truth crowboy

FUTABA: second tldr do you got anyone else i can go to the art show with because im not unpackin all that junk in the trunk while also trying to fend off a panic attack in the subway

YUSUKE: Well, to speak to "what’s the truth, crowboy,” I’d say he’s actually really funny.

FUTABA: WHAT

YUSUKE: Yes, actually.

FUTABA: YOU TRYNA TELL ME YOU SHARE A SENSE OF HUMOR W AKECHI

YUSUKE: As everyone knows, I don’t have a sense of humor.

YUSUKE: But if I did, that might not be inaccurate to say.

YUSUKE: Either way, we could ask Boss if he’ll take you to school.

FUTABA: no

FUTABA: im not makin him shut down leblanc for the day just cause i cant get my shit together

FUTABA: and i go to school by myself all the time now i dont need to be walked there by my dad like a four yr old

FUTABA: r u sure u dont have anyone else who can take me

YUSUKE: You said it had to be someone you know.

YUSUKE: I can take you.

YUSUKE: But I’ll be getting to Kosei early to prepare.

FUTABA: how early is early

YUSUKE: Four in the morning.

FUTABA: PLEASE INARI

YUSUKE: The people you know is a quite limited pool, Futaba.

FUTABA: shut the hell ur face i dont need u tellin me to make kosei friends too

FUTABA: i get my butt to school every day i’m already a hero

FUTABA: ok alright

FUTABA: crow-san it is

FUTABA: hhh

FUTABA: no shut up stop typing i’m fine

FUTABA: i already saw his dumb ass get inflicted with Horny from Yaldy God Himself i ain’t afraid of no crows

FUTABA: actually now that i remember that that was pretty funny mwehehehehehehe

FUTABA: OKAY send me the who what when where why

YUSUKE: There’s a PDF flier. I’ll send it to you.

YUSUKE: But I will have to type the email to send it to you.

FUTABA: oh my GOD inari

FUTABA: i swear to god ur not actually this dense and youre just pretending u dont know what an exaggeration is just to drive me up the wall

YUSUKE: Oh, that is a possibility, isn’t it?

FUTABA: WH

YUSUKE: Ah, last period is starting. I’ll have to talk to you later.

FUTABA: WHAT

FUTABA: NO WAIT

FUTABA: HELLO????

FUTABA: YUSUKE NO COME BACK

Tuesday, 2:53 PM

FUTABA: YUSUKE HAVE YOU BEEN MAKING AKECHI DO UR HW FOR U SO YOU CAN DO MORE ART??

FUTABA: IS THAT WHY UR ON A FIRST NAME BASIS W HIM

FUTABA: ANSWER ME STRINGBEAN

In Futaba’s opinion, there’s an infinite amount of more embarrassing reasons to pull yourself out of your depression pit than “I needed to yell at my friend for being a snotty bastard,“ and there’s worse escorts to have than the weird guy who went from being a professional murderer to their weird awkward friend. Firstly, if there’s anything that can motivate Futaba Sakura, it’s the primal urge to dunk on her friends for spite and memes. Secondly, there’s no chance in hell Futaba’s going to have a breakdown in front of Akechi.

She can do this. She got herself out of this grave once; she can do it again. Even if Akira isn’t here. She’s getting better. She promised him.

On the eighth day of her almost-return to hermithood, Akechi texts her:

AKECHI: I’m here.

AKECHI: Are you ready to go?

Futaba is wearing only an old shirt, no bra, sweats, and vaguely greasy hair from all the showers she’s skipped.

FUTABA: i’m SO ready

FUTABA: the readiest

FUTABA: ultra mega super ready

FUTABA: featherman ranger code name Ready

AKECHI: Oh.

AKECHI: Alright.

Hell yes alright. Time for Futaba to save her own life from her gravesite of a room.

With… Goro Akechi. Wow, life is weird, huh?

She drags on her Kosei uniform like a skin discarded long ago. It feels stiff. Maybe because it feels wrong to wear school clothes like a functioning human; maybe because she just hasn’t washed it in a week. The very idea of explaining herself to Sojiro stresses her out, so she doesn’t do it. The idea of not explaining herself to Sojiro, when he deserves an explanation and also would probably have a heart attack if he realized that she’d disappeared from her room without his knowing, also stresses her out, so she still doesn’t explain herself to Sojiro.

I told Akira I’m better now. I can do this. I did this for more than six months. I was out of my room in the real world, I went to the school festival, I changed my own heart…

She creeps down the stairs like a thief in her own house and pokes her head out the door. Goro Akechi is fiddling with his phone in the sun outside her house, looking like he, too, has only just managed to pull on his Human Suit and look like a guy who didn’t make shadows beg for mercy for fun, so it looks like this whole expedition is going to be a lot of fun.

"Futaba-chan?” says Akechi, only just noticing her lurking in her own doorway. “It’s been a while since we last saw each other. How are you?”

Futaba opens her mouth. No noise comes out.

Akechi’s eyebrows slowly begin to knit together.

“I’m good,” she says squeakily. Clears her throat. Holy shit, she’s not afraid of Akechi after all that junk they went through in the Metaverse. She saw him as a rat. She saw him visibly want to break his father’s face when Shido tried to apologize to him on live TV. Once, Makoto and Akechi got into an unironic, passionate, hour-long argument about whether or not it’s beneficial to color code your notes.

“I’m alright!” Futaba announces louder, maybe a little loudly, considering the way he looks only more concerned. “L-Let’s hurry up and get this sidequest over with!”

She pulls her hoodie over her head and jams her hands into the pockets and makes herself as small as possible and inches out of the doorway. “If you… say so,” says Akechi, and eventually matches her incredibly slow pace as she shuffles her way towards the main street.

When the noise of Yongen-Jaya’s street hits her, her heart rate (already high as hell) spikes even higher like the first day she’d come out of her room, but the old coping mechanisms come back like second nature: Breathe slower, avoid eye contact, remember her mission, stick to the sides of the streets. Breathe slower. She’s still got it. It’s still hard, but she’s got a whole arsenal of ways to deal. She can do this. She will kick Yusuke’s ass for being a dick, if only out of sheer spite.

If Akira were here, I could hide behind him and…

No, shut up, shut up. All she has is her hoodie and Goro Akechi. Akira’s not here. She can do this by herself.

Akechi makes precisely two attempts at small talk (“How has Kosei been?” “Have you seen the pieces Yusuke submitted to the art show before?”) before he realizes that Futaba isn’t going to respond by virtue of barely holding onto her shit by her fingernails. He shuts up and sticks close by. Futaba makes her way down the streets towards the subway like walking on a tightrope. The subway station isn’t busy, but she puts every step in front of her like she’s going to fall. Getting on the subway might as well be a highwire. Futaba and Akechi wait for the train in mutual silence to the sound of other commuters murmuring amongst themselves, like a toothless echo of Mementos’s depths.

When they get on the train, people around her are quiet, thank god, but all of a sudden she’s convinced that she smells because she hasn’t taken a shower in literal days, and she tries to pack herself into her seat as tightly as possible. The guy in front of her is scrolling through something at a ferocious pace and his thumbnail keeps hitting the screen with this incessant clack, clack, clack noise. The subway voice announces their next station as the doors begin to close, and a girl suddenly sits bolt upright, having realized that this is her station after all, and bangs Futaba’s knees hard as she passes. Futaba wants to curl her legs to her chest, but she’s wearing Kosei’s uniform skirt and it’d just make everyone stare at her if she did that on the subway. She curls her fingers into the skirt hem. She stares down at her knees and lets her hair drape around her like a curtain. She can do this. She can do this. Breathe slower. Even slower. I did this for more than six months, I told Akira I’m better now, I changed my own heart…

Akechi pulls out his phone. Futaba’s phone buzzes.

AKECHI: Are you alright?

FUTABA: i said i was ready dude

Akechi types and retypes an answer, which technically Futaba could just look over his arm and read, but instead Futaba flips through apps on her phone and pulls up a shitty mobile dungeon crawler. She dies four times before Akechi puts his phone away without sending anything.

They pass multiple stations like that. Futaba sure as hell hopes that Akechi’s watching which station they’re on, because she isn’t. After the millionth time she dies, Futaba just closes the app altogether. Concentration’s shot. Can’t focus on anything. Heartbeat’s too loud. Breathing’s too loud. The guy next to her is breathing too loud. Everything is too loud.

New text:

AKECHI: Yusuke said you’d recovered from your cold, but you still look a little unwell.

Futaba doesn’t respond to that. She doesn’t need Negative Nancy over here telling her she’s gonna crack. Because she isn’t gonna. The subway starts to slow, and the voice announces the station for Yusuke’s school. She’s literally almost there, she’s right there, she might die in three seconds because her heart is going to pound of her chest but at least she’s going to make it, she promised Akira that she was alright—

The subway doors open. Passengers stand to get off. Akechi stands up. Futaba drops like a rock.

“I can’t,” Futaba’s voice says. She sounds like she’s crying. “I can’t, I can’t do it, I—”

“Futaba—”

“I’m can’t do it, I—”

She buries her face in her knees on the dirty subway floor. Oh, she really is crying. “I’m sorry,” she says, “I’m so sorry, I couldn’t…”

Around her, people’s feet stop moving. They’re staring at her. She’s crying on the subway and everyone is staring at her. “Shh,” says Akechi, like Futaba doesn’t know she’s being a loud and irritating pest, but then he takes off his winter coat and covers her with it. Suddenly everything goes dark. It’s a huge coat, too; it wraps around her whole torso with enough room to spare to cover her entire head. Inside, it’s like she’s back in her room, only listening to the sounds of real life somewhere on the other side of a computer monitor, where it can’t hurt her. It’s so surprising she hiccups to a stop. Two hands pull her up by the shoulders and guide her to stand. “Up. Let’s go.”

“Is she okay?” says a voice.

Futaba’s entire body seizes with fear. She ducks into her own knees, trying to disappear.

“Hey, little girl, are you alright?”

“She’ll be fine,” says Akechi’s friendly, super fake ass barbie prince voice. “My sister just had a hard day. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

“A hard day?” Now the stranger’s voice is accusatory.

“For your information, our dog was recently brutally run over in front of her eyes.”

“Young man, are you serious right now?”

“Oh, yes. There was blood everywhere. Its intestines squelched horribly under the tires less than six feet away from her,” Akechi goes on. Futaba chokes, and then hiccups in what she realizes is almost a laugh. “Please excuse her. Thank you.” And before the literal complete stranger can follow up on that awful statement, Akechi takes her hand and pulls her up.

Futaba stumbles to her feet. If she has to take the coat off right now, she will actually die.

“It’s okay. Just hold my hand and follow me.”

Blindly, she lets him lead her out of the subway, weaving through people with only minimal contact with other people’s shoulders. There’s a whole awkward period where Akechi has to walk her up the stairs out of the subway station while she can’t see anything, but eventually the noise and bustle of other people around her seems to die away, and the air grows cooler in the way it does in the shadows between city buildings. Then they stop walking altogether. When Akechi lets go of her hand, she almost tries to grab it back before she catches herself.

“Okay. There’s nobody else around, now. It’s safe.”

Futaba doesn’t come out of the jacket. In the dark, her eyes dart back and forth, trying to see even as she blinds herself.

“Sorry for grabbing you so suddenly like that,” Akechi’s voice goes on after it becomes obvious she’s not going to come out.

Futaba wipes snottily at her own face. Oh, this is so gross, she’s got snot and tears on top of five days worth of grime and body juice because she hadn’t taken a shower. She’s disgusting. She really actually wants to die right now. She can’t show her face like this.

“Er,” says Akechi. “Do you want…. water, or…?”

Futaba folds up right there on the city pavement, probably dragging Akechi’s nice coat all over a dirty alleyway. She tucks her face into her knees, where she feels safest, and pulls the coat flaps even tighter. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be.”

“I’m sorry for not being okay,” she mumbles.

There’s a short silence. “You really don’t have to be.”

“I do,” Futaba says. She feels like she’s nine years old again, a petulant kid who needs to hold people’s hands and be escorted around Tokyo. “This is—it’s stupid, and I can’t believe I-I’m still doing this, a-and even a-after everything that h-happened last year, I’m still just a… I’m still…”

“It’s fine,” says Akechi. Even he sounds overwhelmed, and at the first sound of weakness, she pulls the coat off her head and glares at him furiously, red-faced and covered in tears and snot and gross depression juice crust and all.

“I’m not supposed to be this way anymore!” she says miserably. “I’m supposed to be better! Moved on! Doing literally a-anything else but crying over t-taking a subway! It’s stupid and nobody else is like this and I just want to be over this already and I just want to be better already and—!“

She covers her face with her hands again. God, even when she says that, it sounds pathetic.

After a moment or two, she hears Akechi moving again. She peeks at him. He’s crouching in almost the exact same pose as her, looking like he’s resigning himself to neither getting his coat back, nor moving from this spot any time soon, nor getting to Yusuke’s art show on time, but also looking archly and entirely unperturbed about it. Actually, it looks like he’s writing a work email on his phone.

Futaba was right about being in an alleyway, but it’s so cold because they’re shielded by a trio of vending machines selling canned coffee and wrapped sandwiches. "Our dog was recently run over?” she says.

“People can mind their own damn business,” says Akechi in his Pleasant Boy Voice, without looking up from his email.

“He was just trying to help.”

“Oh, yes, let’s help the crying girl by crowding her and suffocating her in a crush of public transit.”

Futaba snorts. “That was really mean of you.”

“Oh, absolutely,” says Akechi.

Futaba sucks a truly disgusting gob of snot into her nose. “Ugh. I wish I could’ve seen the guy’s face when you told him that.”

“It was like I’d spat on his shoes. I should’ve kept going. Or had a camera.”

“Futaba giggles wetly into her forearms. "Like one of those—those prank videos online… Get Yusuke to film it.”

“Yusuke, as the cameraman? I’m not trying to make a documentary.” Akechi flips to a different screen on his phone. “I already texted Yusuke about our poor dead dog, by the way, so don’t worry about it.”

Suddenly Futaba feels like literal garbage again. “Why are you always so nice to me?” she mumbles.

Akechi makes a weird face, like he’s trying to do his old Pleasant Boy shtick while having swallowed a lemon whole. “You say that like me being nice is somehow unusual.”

“Uh, yeah. Because it is. You literally were just being a huge asshole to a guy you’d never met over a fictional dog.”

Akechi has this increasingly disgruntled look on his face like he kind of wants to punt Futaba down some stairs, which, frankly, is the best sort of reward, in Futaba’s opinion. “I’m working on it,” he says grumpily.

“How’s that been?” says Futaba.

“Which part?”

Futaba has one whole moment of self reflection on this idea as maybe not a good course of action before she barrels on anyway: “The part where you’re turning your life around. Starting over. Trying again.”

“It sucks dick,” says Akechi.

“Oh, right on,” says Futaba, and then before she can stop herself: “Wait, I thought you liked dick?”

Akechi makes a noise like a strangled cat.

Futaba cackles. “Dude, incognito mode when you’re browsing for porn does not save you from people like me.”

“Have you been spying on me?”

“Uh, yes? Obviously?”

“You know you could get arrested for that sort of breach in privacy.”

“Oh, boo hoo, so sorry I know all about your weird orphan-saving night job and your smutty Featherman doujinshi collection. You’re not gonna narc on me.” Futaba stops. “Are you?”

“Stop looking at my internet history.”

“No. You better not narc on me.”

“Then stop looking at my internet history.”

“You had to google how to change a SIM card last week, crow-boy; you couldn’t stop me if you tried.”

“I will narc on you.”

“No you won’t. You’re the one trying to not be an asshole.”

Akechi makes a face like a cat being slowly submerged in cold water. Futaba laughs in his face.

“If you’re quite done,” says Akechi grouchily.

“No, never. You’re made for being made fun of,” says Futaba. “I’m gonna be making fun of you for years and years, crow-boy; you’re never going to get rid of me.”

“Great.”

“Gonna be creeping on your weird orphan-saving night job until the day you die.”

“Wonderful,” says Akechi without inflection whatsoever.

“Mwehehehehehehehehehe.”

“If you’re quite done.”

“I will take a well-deserved break from my endless duty to troll you both on and offline,” says Futaba. “Because I really really really wanna go to the art show.”

Akechi has the nerve to look relieved that he no longer has to squat in a dirty alleyway listening to a high school freshman bully him. “Then let’s go.”

Futaba hugs her knees tight. “But I wanna keep your coat.”

“Aren’t you wearing your own coat?” says Akechi, trying to look like he isn’t shivering. “Aren’t you getting hot?”

“I’m keeping it.”

“It’s my coat.”

“I’m keeping it.”

“Fine, then. Keep it. It’s dry clean only.”

“Oh, ew. No, take it back, gross, gross,” and Futaba peels the snotty, tear-stained, dirty winter coat off and dumps it back in Akechi’s arms, who looks at it with the expression of someone long-suffering and without hope of escape.

“And,” says Futaba, “I wanna see it if you tell anyone else that our dog got run over.”

Akechi smirks. “You’ll have to film it, then.”

“Oh my god, like I wouldn’t.”

Futaba scrubs her face one last time. She still feels like she’s covered in a grimy layer of slime, but maybe she can wash her face at Kosei. When she gets there. Because she’s gonna get there.

“Uh, one more thing,” says Futaba.

“Not like you’ve bullied me into doing literally everything else you’ve wanted,” says Akechi.

“You can’t laugh at me.”

“Good thing I don’t have a sense of humor,” says Akechi, which horrifyingly confirms to Futaba that Akechi and Yusuke, of all people, really do share a sense of humor.

Futaba hesitates. “Please, um… please don’t tell Akira about this.”

“Why would I tell Akira?“

"Nice. Good answer.” She smooths her hair down, trying to make herself presentable, or just have something to do with her hands. “I… told him I was gonna be okay without him and all that, so… I don’t wanna let him down, you know?”

Slowly, almost shyly, Akechi smiles. “Oh, yes. I know.”

“Our secret. Secret-keepers.”

“Secret-keepers. Are you ready?”

Futaba takes another deep breath. Pushes herself up, brushes herself off, and sighs. “Absolutely not. This is gonna suck so much dick,” says Futaba. “Let’s go anyway.”

#mine #slams hands on table FUTAGO SIBLINGS #futaba's dubious mental health cw #Anonymous

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gloves94 · 4 years

Text

Sunburn [Prince Zuko] 18

Warnings: None Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Zuko/OC Summary: “You have everything you’ve ever wanted.” “No.” He said softly. “Not everything…” His golden eyes looked at her with a melting intensity she had never witnessed before. “I guess not.” She responded with glassy eyes as tears welled up threatening to break the dam of her eyes.

My fanfiction: M A S T E R L I S T

Time seemed to fly in Ba Sing Se.

At first Zuko had been counting the days that he was spending in this city he called a prison but now he had no idea just how much time had passed since their arrival. His hair was longer now falling in wisps covering his forehead in bangs and reaching pasts his ears. (His girlfriend was a fan). Iroh was happy, Tsai was happy, but him... Zuko starred out of the teashops window. He had everything, his uncle, a loving girlfriend, a steady living, it was a simple, but he couldn't understand why he couldn't be happy...

Iroh smiled faintly as he poured three nicely dressed gentlemen a cup of tea each then he wandered over to serve another customer while the three men enjoyed their tea. The three smiled at each other then stood up.

"So, you're the genius behind this incredible brew." One of them exclaimed as the trio approached Iroh, "The whole city is buzzing about you! I hope Pao pays you well."

Iroh smiled serenely at the man, "Good tea is its own reward."

"But it doesn't have to be the only reward." The man replied with a grin, "How would you like your own teashop."

"My own teashop?" Iroh asked in shock, unwittingly catching Pao's attention as he stopped conversing with another customer, "This is a dream come true!"

Pao rushed forward to stand between the three men and Iroh, "What's going on here? Are you trying to poach my tea-maker?"

Tsai who was attending a customer glanced over to see Iroh's excited expression and the men standing around him. She smiled politely at the customer she was serving tea and approached the counter to see what all the commotion was about.

"Sorry, Pao, but that's business for you." The man replied lightly with a smug smirk, "Am I right?"

"Mushi, if you stay, I'll make you assistant manager." Pao said then hurriedly came up with a better offer, "Wait, senior assistant manager!" He said fidgeting nervously.

Tsai looked at Pao then back at the finely dressed men before her curious gaze rested on Iroh, who was looking a little starstruck.

'Iroh's own teashop? This was great news! It was literally his dream come true!'

She flashed the retired general and excited grin before wandering over to tell Zuko the news and help him clear a table of cups.

She took out a rag and began wiping the table down. He glanced at her and smiled a little before going back to what he was doing. "Listen!" She whispered and turned her head back to the conversation. "I'll provide you with a new apartment in the Upper Ring." The man offered easily both now more interested in the conversation, "The teashop is yours to do whatever you want, complete creative freedom."

"I even get to name the shop?" Iroh asked eagerly, little stars practically appearing in his eyes.

"Of course!"

"Uh, senior executive assistant manager?" Pao tried one last time, only to hang his head in defeat when Iroh handed him the teapot he'd been holding.

Iroh bowed to the man, agreeing to his terms. Tsai practically ran to Iroh, a broad smile on her face. Zuko followed behind and they stood next to Iroh as Pao walked sadly in defeat towards the back of the shop.

"Did you hear, nephew? Tsai?" Iroh asked Zuko eagerly , "This man wants to give us our own teashop in the Upper Ring of the city!"

"That's right!" The nobleman said as he looked at the two teenagers before him, "Your lives are about to change for the better."

"That's great!" Tsai clapped her hands together. "Wow!" She said in awe.

Zuko sighed internally. He looked at Tsai's beaming expression and at the dreamy glint that shined in his uncle's eyes. Tsai was happy. Uncle Iroh was happy. Why couldn't he feel the same way?

"I'll try to contain my joy." Zuko deadpanned sarcastically as he placed the tray of cups on a table and stormed out of the shop, slamming the door behind him.

Tsai looked at his retreating figured and sighed in exasperation. "Thank you, sir, this is very kind of you. We are very grateful," she said politically before bowing politely.

Zuko scowled as he stomped outside and leaned against the wall of the teashop by the door, his arms folded over his chest. His eyes narrowed. "There you are," she said as she exited the shop, she approached him and ran a hand through his hair. "Can you at least pretend to be happy for your Uncle?" She asked with a small frown on her face. "His dream is coming true."

"What about my dream?" He challenged with his arms still closed across his chest. "What about yours?" He glared. She gave a step back letting her guard up. She hated it when he got like this. When he was mean. Her mouth felt dry as she went silent.

Her eyes widen slightly. She had never told him about it.

"You're being mean," she stood her ground looking at him with a hurt expression.

"What happened to creating the perfect nation? Your socialist wet-dream where Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom are equal?" He pushed his words were cold and felt like knives against her skin. "Are you really going to settle for living the life of a tea server your whole life?"

She scowled at him, now fuming. How could he be so ungrateful? After everything that they had been through? She opened her mouth about to retort a petty comeback when a paper hit her in the face. Dreams changed and grew and that was OK! Why couldn't he accept that?

She ripped it off her face angrily and held it in her hand. "Listen!" She began, now even more aggravated. However, she noticed that Zuko's eyes were wide and appeared to be glued to that paper. Confused she brought it up to her line of vision and her went wide too. Who was dropping these flyers?

She instantly saw that determined look flash before his eyes. He looked up clenching his jaw and not seeing anyone or anything climbed to the top of the nearest building. His eyes narrowing when he saw several fliers falling to the ground.

"Zuko, please don't," Tsai pleaded with him as she climbed after him. She already knew what he was looking for. She knew what this meant to him. How it would change him and what they had. This stupid flyer it had uprooted his obsession and ignited his obsession once again. He was looking for the Avatar. She looked down at the flyer of the missing flying bison in her hand and cursed.

"The Avatar is here in Ba Sing Se and he's lost his bison," he said to her. She could see the burning determination in his gold eyes.

"Please, don't." She pleaded with him. She knew that whatever was going through his mind... It did not have a happy ending. "I've let this go. You have to let it go."

"You've never understood..." He said darkly.

"For some time I did." She said standing with him alone in the rooftop. "And for some time I wanted all those same things you did, but not anymore. I've changed and so has my dream and that's OK. This vile obsession... it's going to do nothing but poison your soul! We've been given a second chance at a normal life and what are you going to do throw it all away to chase this fantasy?"

He turned and glared at her with a warning look. She knew that look. That dangerous glint in his eyes. He wasn't going to change his mind. Now now, not ever.

"You know what. Do whatever you want," she shook her head and made her way off the rooftop. "I'm done."

Xxx

Zuko slammed the door of the apartment angrily as he entered. Iroh glanced up from where he was packing things away in preparation for the move, surprised at his sudden outburst. For some time now his nephew had been well.. more tamed in regards of his outbursts for less of a better word.

"So, I was thinking about names for my new teashop." Iroh continued speaking as he paused in his packing, "How about the Jasmine Dragon? It's dramatic, poetic, and has a nice ring to it."

Zuko ignored what his uncle was saying his mind was fumbled in an angry knot. He walked towards him, taking the flyer from his shirt and showing

"We have a chance for a new life here." Iroh said slowly as he looked at Zuko, who had moved to stand by the window after his uncle had taken the flyer and looked it over. Of course he would agree with Tsai. Sometimes he felt like those two were always ganging up on him.

"If you go stirring up trouble, we could lose all the good things that are happening for us."

"Good things that are happening to you!" Zuko snapped angrily as he whirled around to scowl at his uncle, "Have you ever thought that I want more from life than a nice apartment and a job serving tea?"

"Do you not see your growth Prince Zuko? The lovely relationship you've developed with Tsai?" Iroh asked calmly then he continued, "There is nothing wrong with a life of peace and prosperity. I suggest you think about what it is that you want from your life and why."

Zuko pursed his lips and turned away from his uncle fuming to stare out the window again. It wasn't enough. This wasn't the life he was meant to live or the one he envisioned himself with her.

"I want my destiny."

"What that means is up to you." Iroh replied wisely. It was then that Iroh realized that something was wrong.

"Where's Tsai?" He suddenly asked with concern.

"I don't know!" Zuko shouted. "And I don't care!" He roared.

Iroh watched sadly Zuko walked further into the apartment isolating himself in his room.

Xxx

Tsai didn't return home that night. Instead she went up to the tree where Zuko had taken her that one afternoon when they went out on their first date. a lazy hand lingered on her neck as she traced the naked skin where she had once worn her sunstone necklace.

The Blue Spirit was now a distant memory. She guessed he had just been a petty thief who wanted to take the priceless heirloom for his own keeping. Her tired eyes gazed out at the city of Ba Sing Se. Several lights flickered off as the city decided to sleep.

She was alone and at peace and feeling more home sick than ever. She had promised herself she wouldn't cry anymore that she wouldn't think about all those pessimistic realities that were haunting her.

The Avatar.

Her Family.

Reality.

She guessed eventually she would have to add Zuko to that list...

The Avatar was in Ba Sing Se. But what would she do if she captured him? Somehow smuggle him out of the Earth Kingdom and ship him in a gift box to Fire Lord Ozai then beg for him to forgive her and her family's name? No. It was too complicated and also...

The Fire Nation was vile.

Everything she had ever known growing up had been a lie. Maybe they had the best intentions in mind when wanting to spread the greatness of their nation to other lands and kingdoms but their approach. That was not the way to go about it. Fire Lord Sozin could've been more parliamentarian about the affair and one hundred years of war could've been avoided. This war it wasn't born out of generosity. It was born out of greed.

The thought was painful to her. This meant that her parents, her brother, her and even her dear grandfather were all the problem. They reenforced this evil and thrived on their privilege reaping what the Fire Nation had sowed. She ripped out a a cluster of grass from the ground and threw it at the space before her angrily. Maybe she could still pursue her dream, but from the other side. Her eyes focused on the glimmering jewel at the top of the Ba Sing Se landscape. The Earth King's palace. Maybe he'd hear out her political suggestions... Then again, who was she kidding? Why would he listen? She was a nobody. She was a traitor to her nation, a refugee without a single cent to her name, a runaway... She hugged her knees close to her body and rested her head on top of them. And even if he heard her out, her family would lose everything. They would no longer be Vice Royal Governors. She didn't have to think too hard about how they would feel about that...

She still didn't know what her family thought of her. If they would ever even welcome her back with open arms. Her brother- he was still lost to her. Dead or alive. She figured she would probably never know.

And then there was Zuko... She ripped out another angry patch of grass and clenched it in her hands tightly with frustration. If he wasn't willing to change there was nothing she could do for him.

"You can't save people from themselves..." she whispered to the wind and slowly let go of the strands of grass.

Maybe... Just maybe the Avatar could help. After all it was his duty to bring balance to the world.

Xxx

Tsai didn't sleep that night. She spent all night and morning searching for the lost bison. She figured if she found it perhaps it would lead her to the Avatar.

You'd think finding a giant flying bison in Ba Sing Se would be easier right? Wrong. It was like finding a needle in a haystack.

Presently she had been wondering through the dark dimly lit corridors of the Dao Lin's base underneath a lake. She was determined to find Appa and even more so to do it before Zuko did. Who knows what he would do if he got there first.

It took some interrogating and a lot of sneaking around but she soon found the lost bison. Her foul mood and exhaustion didn't help those who dared cross her path.

Appa's eyes snapped open as he stood and growled when the heavy metal door was open. However, he let out what sounded like a deep whine when he saw a familiar figured. Tsai's heart broke at the sight. The bison was thin and malnourished, he was chained up on all legs and kept with his body pressed against the filthy ground.

"Appa!" She cried out as she ran to the bison. "Oh," she said sadly as she moved towards him. She embraced his head and held part of him in an embrace. "Let's get you out of here," she whispered as she stroked his thick fur. The Bison made what sounded like a weak cry.

The door once again opened and Tsai found herself in a very familiar scene. She had beat the Blue Spirit to the punch once again.

Their first encounter had been peaceful. However this time she had a feeling something was about to go down. The Blue Spirit flashed his blades and Appa began to roar uncontrollably.

"Shhh!!! " She attempted to sooth the beast which was roaring and stomping in fear. She guessed he could also feel the tension in the air.

"Listen," she growled out as she stepped menacingly in direction of the Blue Spirit. Sharp blades glimmering with the dim rays of sunlight that entered the room. Whatever it was her and the Blue Spirit had shared was shoved to the back of her mind. There was no time for that kind of thinking right now.

"I just broke up with my boyfriend, so I'm really not in the mood to deal with you right now," she growled out. Her eyes blazing with rage.

"What?" She was taken back when the Blue Spirit actually spoke. "We did not break up!" A voice that was much too familiar to her spoke.

Tsai felt as if her world had been flipped upside down. "Huh?" She felt all of her rage melt away. 'Wait- a minute.'

It was then that the door opened once again. Both of their eyes snapped to the door to see Iroh calmly walking in.

"Uncle?" The Blue Spirit questioned in confusion when he saw Iroh standing in the doorway.

"So, the Blue Spirit." Iroh mused with false thoughtfulness as the door slid shut behind him. "I wonder who could behind that mask..."

Zuko barely had time to react before he felt a hand on his face. He stood still as Tsai slowly removed the mask off his face.

"You're the Blue Spirit?!" She exclaimed in geniune shock. She didn't hear what he said after as she turned away suddenly feeling her face burning with a deep embarrassment.

'Oh my goodness, that meant-' She thought about that time that she kissed the Blue Spirit that time he made those horrible men go away. "Ugh..." She said face palming at how thoughtless she had been. It made sense now. Really, how he managed to be everywhere they happened to be.

"What are you doing here?" Zuko asked his uncle.

"I was about to ask you the same thing." Iroh stated and his voice began firm, "What do you plan to do now that you've found the Avatar's bison? Keep him locked in our new apartment? Should I go put on a pot of tea for him?" He retorted his voice heavy with sarcasm.

"First I have to get it out of here." Zuko replied flippantly as he turned back to look at the still growling sky bison.

"Have you lost your mind?" Tsai suddenly regained her composure and raised her voice.

"Wait- if you're not here to help me. What are you doing here?" He asked tossing the attention back to Tsai. She stood her stance a blade gleaming as she prepared to free the bison.

"And then what?! You never think these things through!" Iroh demanded furiously and he pointed at his nephew, "This is exactly what happened when you captured the Avatar at the North Pole! You had him, and then you had nowhere to go!"

"I would have figured something out!" Zuko shouted as he whirled around to face his uncle again.

"No!" Iroh yelled right back, "If his friends hadn't found you, you have frozen to death!" Iroh's words hurt, but Tsai knew he only said them because he cared. She guessed he was referencing what had happened in the North Pole.

"I know my own destiny, Uncle!"

"Is it you own destiny, or is it a destiny someone else has tried to force on you?"

"Stop it, Uncle!" Zuko shouted desperately and he turned back to the bison with his swords slightly raised, "I have to do this!"

"I'm begging you, Prince Zuko! It's time for you to look inward and begin asking yourself the big questions." Iroh said, his voice lowering to a normal volume, though it was still just as firm as before, "Who are you, and what do youwant."

Zuko's shoulders trembled slightly then he suddenly gave a wordless scream and threw down his dao blades and the Blue Spirit mask he had been holding.

"You're nuts if you think I'm letting you hurt a single fiber of this creature," Tsai glared menacingly. "I won't let you!"

xxx

Zuko climbed out of the main entrance to the Dai Li's secret headquarters, turning around and helping Tsai out a moment later and then they both pulled Iroh out. The sun was strong and bright and the lake breeze felt refreshing.

"You did the right thing, nephew." Iroh said gently and he watched as Zuko took the Blue Spirit mask from his belt and looked at it, "Leave it behind."

'Not like I gave him much of a choice,' Tsai thought bitterly shaking his head. She let out of a huff and blew a lose strand of hair out of her face.

Zuko sighed quietly and looked at his girl before dropping the mask into the water.

"Tsai," he began apologetically. "I don't want to hear it," she glared coldly before walking away from the two of them.

At this point he wasn't sure what he had done wrong. Did she feel cheated because he had been the Blue Spirit all along and didn't tell her? Was it because of their fight yesterday? Was it because of this entire flying bison accident?

Zuko didn't feel well.

Iroh placed a hand on his nephew's shoulder and smiled at him gently.

'You'll work it out,' his eyes seemed to say.

Zuko nodded and dropped the Blue Spirit mask slowly watching it sink to the bottom of the lake...

xxxx

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CHAPTER MASTERLIST

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P5R: Rebel Girl (A FeMC Story/P5R Rework) Chapter 32: 3 Targets

Friday morning, and Ren has just finished getting dressed for school. She turned around. “Alright, you can look now. Huh?” She was surprised to see Morgana not perched upon the windowsill. Instead, Morgana crawled out from under the bed. Ren sank down to meet him. “What are you doing down there?”

“You said I shouldn’t look when you’re changing,” Morgana said. He hopped on the bed so that Ren could stand up. “I wasn’t looking.”

“Right, but when you do that, you usually look out the window,” Ren said. “What happened?”

Morgana seemed a little embarrassed. “While you were out with Mishima last night, this woman almost kidnapped me…”

“WHAT?!” Ren said, shocked.

“I was worried that that woman would see me and try to take me again,” Morgana said. “Man, why do I have to have this cat body?”

“What happened?” Ren asked, picking up Morgana.

“Wha?” Morgana said, shocked at getting picked up. “Well, uh, I was walking around, minding my own business, when I heard someone shout ‘SNOWBALL!’ At first I didn’t pay it much mind, but she ran up to me and tried picking me up. I ran away from her but she just kept chasing me.

Eventually, I ran toward this old man in the neighborhood. He was confused initially, but when he heard her screaming ‘SNOWBALL!’ he seemed to pick up on what was going on. He tucked me away and shooed her off. If I never see her again, it’ll be too soon.”

Ren set Morgana down and then sat down herself. “Did you happen to catch a name?”

“Well, oddly enough, yeah” Morgana said. “After she left the old man sighed and said ‘Crazy ol’ Ryoko Aino at it again.’ He also looked at me and said ‘She keeps taking cats. How many would you be? 11? 13?’ Why?”

“Well, I was thinking of getting the gang together and paying her a visit” Ren answered.

“Huh?” Morgana said.

Ren giggled. “You’ll see.” Morgana popped into Ren’s bag and the two headed off to school.

After school, Ren got a message from Mishima.

Mishima: Hey, I just noticed a dire request on the Phansite.

Mishima: And guess what? It’s from our school.

Mishima: Apparently this one kid named Daisuke Takanashi is hardcore bullying a bunch of students.

Mishima: Sometimes it even gets physical.

Mishima: Do you want me to make it known that the Phantom Thieves are after him?

Ren: Sure.

Ren: Also, could you do that for two other people?

Mishima: Of course! Anything for the Phantom Thieves!

Ren: Great!

Ren: Do that for Heiji Ono and Ryoko Aino.

Mishima: Done and done!

“That’s what you meant?!” Morgana yelped.

“Shhhh” Ren said. “People might hear you.”

“We’re going to change her heart?” Morgana continued.

Ren nodded. ”If she keeps kidnapping cats, the streets of Yongen-Jaya won’t be safe for cats… Or you…”

Morgana fussed. “I guess it’s fine in some contexts.”

“Alright! So, let’s get everyone together” Ren said.

“Huh? We’re doing these today?” Morgana questioned.

Ren nodded. “I figure it would be easier than jumping three basically unaware people into a palace.”

“Makes sense,” Morgana said. “Hey, wait! Was that a snide remark at me?”

Ren smiled. “Perhaps. But at the same time, I think we needed to steal Kamoshida’s heart in order to get people to believe us. So it’s even.”

“Well… alright…” Morgana said.

Ren messaged the group chat.

Ren: Alright everyone, we’re meeting up today!

Soon, they all met up in the access hall. “Alright! Are we going to give Madarame what’s coming to him?!” Ryuji said.

“Not so loud!” Ann hushed him. “We’re still in public.”

“Sorry,” Ryuji said.

“Well, to answer your question, not yet,” Ren said. Everyone was surprised. “I was thinking of doing a bit of training first.”

“Training how?” Sumire asked.

Ren turned to face Sumire. “Remember that place where your Persona first awakened?” Sumire nodded. “That place is called Mementos. It serves as a palace for the general public, and it’s where we can steal the hearts of people without a palace.”

“Huh” Sumire said.

“So, you wanna head down there?” Ann asked.

Ren nodded. “I figure it might help Sumire, and Yusuke get used to the Metaverse some more, and maybe get Jose some Phantom Thief experience..”

“Well, I could use some practice,” Yusuke said.

Jose nodded. “I guess I might need some assistance working as a team.”

“Well, do we have any marks?” Ryuji asked.

“Three” Ren answered.

“Well let’s hear them,” Ryuji said.

“Yeah, we do have to agree on them before we can go after them” Ann reminded them.

Ren nodded. “First, there’s a bully at our school; Daisuke Takanashi. Apparently he’s even getting physical.”

“No way!” Ryuji said. “We can’t let that stand.”

“I agree,” Yusuke said.

“Daisuke Takanashi?” Sumire said. She thought. “OK, let’s do this.”

“Alright, second is this old man who keeps disturbing the peace in Kichijoji named Heiji Ono. Apparently, he’s also feigning ignorance about it every time he does it.”

“Huh? What does that mean?” Jose asked.

“It means he says he doesn’t know what he’s doing when he does,” Ann explained. “And although it might seem a bit harsh, I say we go for it. I can’t stand people who keep getting away with things due to some special treatment.”

Ren nodded. “And lastly, poor little Morgana here almost got kidnapped last night”.”

“Don’t… Don’t phrase it like that” Morgana said. “It makes me sound less cool.”

“Awww, poor Morgana” Jose said. He started petting him. “It’s OK. We all have weak moments.”

Morgana was slightly embarrassed, but he did enjoy the petting. “Thanks…”

“Taking Morgana would not have been the first time she kidnapped a cat,” Ren continued. “We need to change her heart to keep her from taking cats in the future.”

“I agree,” Sumire said. “Taken away by a stranger to a place you don’t know. It sounds harrowing, especially for a cat. … Oh, but I don’t mean to compare you to just a regular cat, Morgana-senpai.”

“It’s… fine…” Morgana relented. “In this case, I’d be no different than an actual cat.”

“So, it sounds like we’re all in agreement then” Ren said. Everyone else nodded. “Great. I had Mishima alert them on the Phansite already. Now, let’s head to Mementos.” Everyone prepared and headed out.

Once they arrived, Yusuke was taken by surprise. “Oh my. What a strange garden.”

“Oh yeah. Yusuke hasn’t been here before” Ann remarked.

Sumire was silent. “Hey” Ren said. “It’s going to be alright. Things changed since the last time you were down here.” She took her hand. “You’ve changed.”

Sumire blushed. “Thanks senpai.”

Yusuke held his hands out to make a frame. “What an intricate display of madness. I might need to paint this someday.”

“Yeah, maybe hold off on that until we can get Madarame to stop claiming your works of art are his” Ryuji told him.

“Hmmm. You’re right” Yusuke said. “Madarame hasn’t even seen this. To have him take credit for it…”

Ryuji looked at him. “Man, I’d like to live in your head for like five minutes.”

“I’d like that too,” Morgana said. “Then maybe you’ll see why Panther deserves a portrait of herself.”

“WHAT?!” Ryuji snapped back.

“Hm. What clever thinking” Yusuke said.

“Yeah. I’d like that too” Ann giggled.

“If you were to live in my head, then you would know at first glance that Pather’s beauty and radiance deserves a nude portrait unto itself!” Yusuke continued.

“WHAT?!” shouted Ann, Ryuji, and Morgana.

“Huh? Did I not mention that?” Yusuke asked.

“YOU MOST CERTAINLY DID NOT!” Ann shrieked.

“Huh. My apologies” Yusuke said. “However, for what it’s worth, I wouldn’t have asked you to get naked for me if you didn’t want to. I would have just looked up references for the remaining parts.”

“That’s… um…” Ann said, face turning red. “Is that better?”

“I don’t think so,” Ryuji answered. “Why the Hell do you need to draw her nude to show off her beauty, when anyone with two working eyes can see she’s beautiful inside and out?”

“Urgh!” Yusuke said, shaken. “Forgive me. It seems I need to reevaluate my perspectives.”

Sumire patted him on the shoulder. “You’re only starting to break free from Madarame’s grasp. These things take time.”

“Thank you, Violet,” Yusuke said.

“Skull…” Ann said. “That’s so sweet… But… Where the Hell was this last week?!”

“Oh… You’re still mad about that huh…” Ryuji said.

Jose was curious. “What happened last week?”

“Ah, nothing!” Ann said. Sumire and Ren giggled.

“Look, I’m sorry about that,” Ryuji said.

Ann pouted. “I just want to know why that was your first instinct.”

“Well…” Ryuji said, rubbing the back of his head. “Ugh, this is going to sound embarrassing. I just thought, I dunno, we hung out often enough. I thought I said everything else worth saying during those moments.” Ann was surprised. “But I guess Kamoshida ruined that too, didn’t he…”

“No…” Ann said. “No, you’re fine. I just… wouldn't mind hearing those things again, you know?”

“Oh… Why didn’t I think of that?” Ryuji said.

“Hm. What a marvelous duo” Yusuke said. “Would you mind if I painted the two of you together? Fully clothed, of course.”

“Huh? Well, maybe…” Ann thought.

“GAH!” Ryuji yelled. “How did we get onto this? I’ll answer the painting question later. Right now, I wanna change some hearts.”

Ann pouted again. “Skull…”

“He has a point though,” Ren said. “We came down here for a reason.”

“I agree,” Jose said. “We can’t keep those hearts waiting.”

“Right…” Ann said. “Alright Mona, do your thing!”

“Thing? What thing?” Sumire asked.

“Heh. It’s showtime” Morgana said. “TRANSFORM!” he transformed into the car.

“WOAH!” Sumire said. “You can do that?”

“Of course!” Morgana said.

“Then why does Joker-senpai have to walk everywhere?” Sumire asked. Ren burst out laughing.

“Mona can only do this in the Metaverse” Ann explained.

“Yeah. Otherwise I’d totally do that” Ren said, wiping tears from her eyes.

“I see…” Sumire.

“So, Fox, what are your thoughts on this?” Ryuji asked.

Yusuke was fascinated. “While I am familiar with the concept, to see it actually happen… I’m truly amazed.”

“Do you want to paint me too?” Morgana asked.

Yusuke thought for a second. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far. But it is a nice novelty.” Morgana pouted.

The gang entered the Morgana car and they started driving down. Sumire looked out the window. “Man, this place looks so different from a car.”

“Well, Mementos does change every time you enter it,” Morgana said.

“Really?” Sumire said.

Ren nodded. “But I think I get what you mean.”

“Yeah, you were wandering around for a while before we found you” Ann said.

“Wait, come to think of it, WHY did you venture down here anyways?” Ryuji asked.

“Huh. I guess we never got an answer to that” Ann said.

“Well, I’m assuming I gave her the app,” Ren explained. “And she just happened to pass by.”

“Yeah… Something like that…” Sumire said.

“It seems better if we do not push the issue,” Yusuke said.

Ryuji sighed. “How do you think normal is this situation?” he mumbled.

They came to the other platform on the first level. “Huh? We’re at the end already? But we haven’t found a single target” Yusuke exclaimed.

“No, this is just the first floor,” Ann said.

“Of how many?” Yusuke asked.

“No idea,” Ryuji answered.

“WHAT?!” Yusuke shrieked.

“Wait, Jose, would you know?” Ren asked.

Jose shook his head. “There’s this huge door downstairs, and I couldn’t get it open when I was down here.”

“Huh” Ryuji said. “We opened it no problem.”

“WHAT?!” Jose said.

“Well, I wouldn’t say ‘no problem’” Ren added. “The door responds to being part of the collective unconscious. Since you were basically an unknown, it makes sense you couldn’t open it.”

“Huh. I see” Jose said.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Yusuke said. “There are many things in this world that you cannot possibly know alone. For instance, it took coming into contact with all of you to help me realize that something needed to be done about Madarame.”

“I guess you’re right…” Jose said.

“Anyways, let’s go,” Ryuji said. “Time to see what’s even further.”

“Though I don’t suppose we’re getting to the bottom any time soon…” Ann added.

“Yeah,” Ren said. “If Eris is waiting for us at the bottom, I think we need to become more well known among the public.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Ryuji said. “Eris wants us to meet her down there, but we can’t get there yet, so she’s helping us by creating various life-or-death situations based on a plan by a different guy she killed and stole it from.”

“Basically” Ren said.

Ryuji sighed. “Ugh. This couldn’t get more complicated.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Morgana chimed in. “Anything can happen in the metaverse.”

“I guess you’re right” Ryuji resigned. They continued down.

They traveled Mementos a little bit until they found one of the targets. They jumped through the portal. “That must be Daisuke Takanashi’s shadow!” Morgana exclaimed.

“Time to put a stop to this bullying!” Ryuji said.

Sumire just looked at him. “...Daisuke…”

The thieves confronted him. “So, you’re the Phantom Thieves, huh?” Daisuke said. “Excellent! Ready to team up?”

“Why would we team up with a vicious bully like you?!” Ann shouted.

“To rule that pathetic school!” Daisuke answered. “With our might combined, we can make the new law of the land.”

“Tch. As if” Ryuji said. “We don’t take kindly to people pushing around others for their own amusement.”

“I agree,” Yusuke said. “It’s time we teach you some manners.”

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” Daisuke said. He transformed into a Jack Frost. “BRING IT ON!” After a quick battle, Daisuke lost. “DAMMIT!” he cried. “Why can I never be strong enough?”

“Strong enough for what?” Morgana ased.

“ANYTHING!” Daisuke answered.

“Daisuke…” Sumire said. “What happened between you and Kimi?”

“Huh? You know Kimi?” Daisuke asked.

“Well, um… yes…” Sumire said. “We’re, um, in the same ballet class… She hasn’t been herself since you broke up with her…”

Daisuke looked at Sumire. “GAH! Fine. I guess I should tell you. This other kid at school caught me shoplifting.”

“WHAT?!” Ann said.

“He told me he’d show them to the police if I didn’t do what he said,” Daisuke continued. “I didn’t want anything bad to happen, so I complied. But over time, I started hating the person I became. I had to break up with Kimi before I did something I’d regret even more.”

“So that’s it,” Ren said. Daisuke nodded.

“Hm. If you can tell us about this person, maybe we can change their heart” Jose responded.

“Heh. Sounds like a plan” Daisuke said.

“But afterwards, you have to promise to make it up to Kimi!” Sumire shouted.

“Of course,” Daisuke said. “I wouldn’t want anything more. I’ll log into that Phansite and put up a post there or something. I’ll also make it up to the store I stole from. Later.” Shadow Diasuke disappeared, and Ren took the treasure left behind.

They left and continued. “Man, this Mementos stuff is paying off!” Ryuji exclaimed. “We found Madarame like this, and now we found someone else too!”

“Yeah, but I don’t think this blackmailer will have a palace like Madarame,” Ann said.

Ryuji pouted. “Well, maybe someone could be bullying him and we keep going up the chain.”

“I doubt we’d get that lucky,” Morgana said.

Ren looked at Sumire. “So, you knew that guy Violet?”

Sumire looked up. “Well, not personally, no. But Kimi would always talk about him. She really liked him.” Sumire grew a blush. “It kind of made me jealous.”

“I see” Ren started blushing as well. “Well, it’s nice that we could reunite them.”

“Yeah” Sumire smiled. They continued driving through Mementos.

They quickly found another portal and jumped through it. “That’s that old guy, Heiji Ono’s shadow” Morgana noted.

“Hmm” Ren thought.

“What’s up?” Ryuji asked.

“My source told me there might be a little more to this one than meets the eye” Ren said.

“What do you mean? Ann asked.

Ren thought some more. “I’m not 100% sure, but I think there might be a deeper reason as to why he’s doing this.”

“Are you saying we should reason with him?” Yusuke asked.

“Well, I think it’s worth a shot at least,” Ren said.

They walked up to him. “Are you those rumored Phantom Thieves?” Heiji asked.

“Um, yeah?” Ryuji answered.

“HA! This is great” Heiji said.

“Why is this great?” Jose asked

“Because, if I mess with you and get away with it, they’ll HAVE to pay attention to me,” Heiji said.

“Um, we’re not going to just let you mess with us,” Morgana responded.

“Oh, but I am just a poor, defenseless old man” Heiji insisted.

“Did you really expect that to work?” Yusuke asked.

“Yeah, you told us your intentions outright” Ann added.

“DId I? Oh dear” Heiji said.

“Who is this ‘they’ person, and why do you want their attention?” Ren asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Heiji said. “I keep stirring up trouble, and they keep talking to me.”

“Um, could you try talking to them without causing trouble for others?” Sumire asked.

“BAH! They never listen” Heiji said. “And from the sounds of it, neither are you.”

“We’re just trying to help,” Jose said.

“Yeah, well help THIS!” Heiji morphed into a Koropokkuru. “MAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

“Well, it was worth a shot,” Ren said. “Let’s get him!” The thieves fought against Heiji’s shadow. They noticed that whenever Yusuke or Morgana used their powers on him, he’d complain about his bones. So they teamed up to finish him off.

After beating Heiji, he calmed down. “I don’t want to stop!” he yelled in desperation.

“Why?!” Ryuji yelled back.

“Because… They’ll abandon me…” Heiji answered.

“Again, who is this ‘they’?” Ren asked.

“...My grandchildren,” Heiji answered.

“AH!” Sumire yelped.

“That would explain a lot,” Yusuke said.

“They don’t want to spend time with me,” Heiji explained. “But if I make trouble, then they have no choice but to come over. Even if they’re just disappointed in me, they’re still talking to me.”

“Um, have you tried talking to them about this?” Ann answered.

“I told you, they won’t listen,” Heiji explained.

“Well, maybe you don’t need to tell them,” Ren said. “Maybe It's worth it just to talk to somebody about this. Who knows, maybe they could help get your grandkids to listen.”

“Maybe…” Heiji said. “But I’ve made so many people mad. I don’t think any of them will listen.”

“Well, why not apologize?” Ryuji explained. “I’ve learned that a good apology can go a long way.” He looked at Ann and winked. Ann blushed in surprise.

“Heh. You might be right” Heiji said. “You know, you’re all such good kids. Thanks for helping this old man.” He faded out and Ren took the treasure.

“Alright, one more target to go” Ren said.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Morgana said.

“Hey the sooner we get this done, the sooner she’ll stop trying to kidnap you” Ren retorted.

“...I guess that’s true,” Morgana said.

They continued onward. On the next floor, they found a little shed. “What’s this?” Ryuji said. They walked in. “Huh. It looks like a place to relax.”

“Well, why don’t we?” Ren asked.

“Yeah, this feels just like a safe room in a palace” Ann assessed.

“Exactly!” Morgana said.

“Well, I could certainly use a break,” Sumire said.

“As could I,” Yusuke added.

“Yeah, I could also use a break,” Jose said.

“Alright then, let’s take five” Ren said. She passed around different healing items to help everyone relax more. After some time had passed, Ren asked “Is everyone ready?” They all nodded. “OK. Then let’s go.” They all got up and continued down Mementos. After a bit of travel, they found the last portal for today and jumped through it.

Morgana gulped. “Well… That’s her shadow… Ryoko Aino…”

“You gonna be alright?” Ryuji asked.

“I dunno…” Morgana said.

“Don’t worry Mona, we’re here for you!” Ann cheered.

“...Yeah!” Morgana answered. “Thanks Panther!”

“Huh, so Mona responds well to Panther. Fascinating” Jose said.

“Indeed” Yusuke added on.

“Well… uh…” Morgana said, embarrassed.

“Hm hm” Sumire giggled. “I think it’s cute.”

“Oh… um… hm…” Morgnana pondered.

“Anyways, we have a job to complete” Ren reminded them.

“Right,” Morgana said, getting focused. “According to the guy who saved me, I’m not the first cat she’s stolen.”

“We need to put a stop to this!” Ann said, raising her voice.

They walked forward to meet her. “Hey!” Morgana yelled, getting her attention.”

Ryoko looked at him. “Snowball? Snowball! You came back! I thought that mean old man took you from me, but you’re here now!”

“OOOOOOOOOOK. That’s weird” Ryuji remarked.

Ren stepped forward. “Are you the one who’s been stealing cats?” she demanded.

“Stealing? No. I’m protecting them” Ryoko answered.

“How does stealing them protect them?” Jose asked.

“There are so many dangers out there for Snowballs out there,” Ryoko explained. “I keep them safe.”

“Well, whatever you think you’re doing, you need to stop!” Ann shouted.

“What?! You… You want all those Snowballs to be in danger?!” Ryoko asked. “NO! I CAN’T LET THAT HAPPEN!” She morphed into a Nekomata. “I’LL PROTECT THE SNOWBALLS WITH MY LIFE!”

Ren stood her guard. “Attack!” She wouldn’t attack Morgana, which was fairly helpful for their effort to take her down. However, she was fairly strong, and the others who took the brunt of her attack felt it. Still, they came out victorious in the end.

After she had been defeated, Ryoko panicked. “NO! I won’t let you!”

“Um, what’s goin’ on?” Ryuji asked.

“I’d like to know for myself,” Yusuke added.

“Hmm. Maybe if we just talk to her…” Ren said. “Hey!” She got Ryoko’s attention. “We want to protect ‘Snowball’ here too. So, could you tell us how you do it?”

“What? No” Ryoko argured. “I’m the only one who can!”

“And why is that?” Ren continued.

“Because!” Ryoko screamed. “Because… it happened to me before… But I won’t let it happen again!”

“Wait before?” Ann said.

“I won’t let Snowball get hit by that truck again!” Ryoko shouted.

“Oh. I see” Ren said.

“Therefore, I will protect all Snowballs!” Ryoko continued.

Sumire stepped up. “You… You really loved Snowball, didn’t you?”

“Of course!” Ryoko said.

Sumir began tearing up. “Well, this kitty here belongs to my friend here. She’d be really sad if she lost him like you lost Snowball.” Ryoko was stricken. “I know how hard it is to lose someone. But the answer isn’t to pass your pain to others, or wallow in it endlessly. You have to move on. I know it’s tough, but Snowball would want that, right?”

Ryoko was crying. “I… I… I… SNOWBALL! I’m so sorry Snowball! I’ll free all of those other kitties and make it up to you! I’m sorry!”

Sumire giggled. “I think he’ll forgive you.”

“Yeah!” Ryoko said. “Thank you.” Ryoko faded and Ren took her treasure. With that, they left that area and continued down Mementos.

Soon after, they arrived at another door. “Huh. We reached another door” Ryuji said.

Ren tried to open it, but to no avail. “Just as I thought.”

“We’ll need to steal Madarame’s treasure to open this door,” Ann said.

“I see,” Yusuke said. “If we are to continue, then I guess we should do it posthaste!”

“I’m not sure rushing this is a good idea,” Jose said. “I mean, after everything we’ve been through today, I’m a little tired.”

“Yeah, and besides, who knows if there’ll be a door later on we’ll need to steal someone else’s treasure to open” Ryuji added.

“Huh. I see” Yusuke said.

“I think pacing ourselves is a good idea,” Sumire pointed out. “If you overwork yourself in ballet, you’ll get nowhere. I’m assuming the same thing applied to Phantom Thieving.”

“Well said” Ren said. “Besides, we’ve change three hearts as well. I say all around today has gone well. Let’s head up.” They went back upstairs and went up through Mementos.

On their way back, Yusuke asked “By the way Violet. Is there a chance that I could sketch you fighting sometime?”

“Wha-What?!” Sumire said, embarrassed.

“Well, it’s just, your fighting style is so expressive” Yusuke said. “I’d like to capture that on canvas.”

“Say, how did we all get so good at fighting?” Ann said.

“Well, about that,” Morgana said. “It’s not like you’re bad at fighting, but the metaverse amplifies any skill you have, or allows you to give yourself one if you aren’t adept to fighting.”

“I see,” Yusuke said. “I guess that’s why I seem to fight with grace and precision.”

“So, why do you fight stylistically Violet?” Ren asked.

“Oh, well, um,” Sumire began. “I guess I’ve just been incorporating my ballet routine into my fighting moves.”

“I see. How marvelous” Yusuke said. “Maybe I can come and watch you perform.”

“Yeah… Provided someone else doesn’t catch your eye…” Sumire lamented.

“I beg your pardon?” Yusuke said.

“Yeah, Violet’s kind of going through some things right now,” Ren said.

“I guess I should explain,” Sumire said. She described what had happened with her sister and her self-esteem.

“Ah! My apologies” Yusuke said. “Forgive me.”

“It’s fine. You didn’t know” Sumire said.

“Still, I commend your efforts,” Yusuke said. “You seem like one of the hardest working people I know, and your fighting shows your spirit. If you ever get to peak performance again, please contact me so I can sketch you.”

“Oh. Well. That sounds nice” Sumire said. They reached the exit, and left Mementos for the day.

Once they got home, Ren was changing into her pajamas, while Morgana was once again on the windowsill. “Ah, it’s nice to be back up here” Morgana said. “The stars, the breeze, the city. Man, it’s so good to feel.”

Ren finished changing.. She walked up to Morgana. “You’ve only been in hiding since this morning.”

Morgana turned to her. “I know,” he said. “But it got me thinking. People find themselves in situations like mine everyday. And it’s up to us to save them.”

“Ah, so that’s what this is about” Ren said.

Morgana nodded. “I know people suffer, but feeling it is a whole other thing. I feel like I have a better understanding of why you fight so hard.”

Ren was taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m just sayin’...” Morgana said. “Between getting arrested and all that stuff with Kamoshida, I can understand wanting to protect people from situations like that.”

“Huh. I see” Ren said. She picked up Morgana. “You’re one insightful kitty, you know that?”

Morgana grinned. “Yeah, but I’m YOUR insightful kitty.”

“Awww” Ren said. She rubbed her cheek on Morgana’s. Morgana purred. “Well, goodnight.”

“Goodnight” Morgana said, leaping down. He curled up while Ren went under the covers. Both were asleep within five minutes.

#persona 5 #persona fanfiction #persona 5 royal #p5r #p5 femc #p5r rework #p5 rework #p5 #FeMC #female ren #ren amamiya #morgana #mishima #Sumire #Ryuji Sakamoto #ann takamaki #jose #yusuke kitagawa

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fangirlshrewt97 · 4 years

Text

Leverage Fic: Let that lonely feeling wash away

Author(s): Fangirlshrewt97

Fandom: Leverage

Pairing: Eliot Spencer & Parker

Characters: Eliot Spencer, Parker, Alec Hardison (mentioned), Sophie Devareux (mentioned), Nate Ford (mentioned)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: None

Additional Tags: Bonding, sometime in season 1, Realizations, Comfort

Summary:

“I am not used to this.” Parker started before stopping. She was biting her lip, and tense as a coiled spring ready to bolt. “The other day, I just followed Nate’s plan.”

He kept his face carefully blank. “Ok? What is the problem there?”

“Eliot, I didn’t make a back up plan!”

Ah. Her issues were getting clearer.

Or: A normal day brings an unexpected, but not really, revelation.

Link to A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23526583

Gift for: @lurkerviolin, Happy birthday dearest!

*****

Eliot felt himself subtly tense up at the sudden change in atmosphere, something new was there in his room. Taking a quiet inhale, Eliot turned off the stove, moving the hotpot to the marble countertop before moving deliberately to the entrance of his kitchen. Counting in his head, he struck out his arm at the count of four and smirked as his prize yelped and squirmed under his unyielding grip. He dragged his uninvited guest into the kitchen, depositing her on to one of the chairs in his tiny dining table. " You're lucky I didn't have my knife in my hand Parker" he menaced, advancing to loom over the thief, not that she cared. "It's Wednesday afternoon," Parker remarked non-chalantly as she leaned back and got comfortable in the hard wooden chair, "this chair sucks". "It's a solid chair. Also that's not an answer. And it's evening". Eliot said as he moved back to his sink, rolling up his sleeves before starting to wash his dishes. "It's a valid answer!" Parker protested. "You wouldn't have had a knife with you at this time on a Wednesday because you are making soup and bread to take with you to the local community kitchen and to help out at dinner time". Eliot paused in his scrubbing of a particular stain on the plate, polishing it till he could see his reflection.

He put the plate on the dish rack, and grabbed the chopping board. Parker did not miss the slowing down of his movements. "What?" "Am I getting predictable?" Eliot asked, an almost imperceptible nervousness underlying his question. Parker regarded the frame of her ... friend. She had known Eliot for almost eight years now and could count the number of times he was genuinely nervous on one hand. The man was unflappable. But that was just a consequence of the life they had chosen wasn't it? No one said being a criminal is easy. "No, I just know you well." Eliot huffed, but the line of tension in his shoulders was still there. Parker unfolded herself from the chair and went to stand by Eliot, awkwardly punching him on the shoulder. "Lighten up Eliot. You're fine." Social interactions were still taking some getting used to. Eliot barely reacted to the punch, but paused at her words. “We should move.”

That surprised Parker. “Move? Move where? When? Why?”

“In my line of work predictable means dead Parker.”

“Not necessarily” Parker tried to argue, but it came out weak and unconvincing to her own ears. While surprised, she did understand Eliot’s concerns. They had been in LA for almost 9 months now, the longest the pair of them had stayed anywhere since they started working together as a team. Eliot had never seen where Parker lived, and to be frank was not quite sure whether she even slept all that much, but he had offered her his couch to crash in if she ever needed it. She had never needed it so far. Parker was just trying to figure out what to say when her stomach grumbled loudly.

“How long since you’ve eaten?” Eliot asked, voice neutral even as she saw him switching to caretaker mode. Hey why look a Eliot in the gift mouth?

“This after-”

“Actual food that is not at least 40% sugar and 40% other crap.” Eliot cut her off with a no nonsense voice. Parker winced.

“The tacos you made for all of us?” Parker said, voice quiet enough Eliot had to strain to hear. She saw his grip tighten on the cutlery in his hand.

“That was two days ago Parker.”

Parker just shrugged. Food was not a big thing for Parker. She was a thief, the best in the world in fact. Before the team, food had just been whatever gave her enough energy to best complete the job. Or tasted the sweetest.

Eliot was changing that. She had had a donut today morning and thought it was too sweet. That had never happened before.

But she wasn’t the only one studying her new friend. Eliot was studying her right back, and knew the best way to confront Parker was to do so at her own pace and by her own choice. Eliot could hold her once he had her, but she was the slipperiest thing he had ever had to catch. “Pick a restaurant kid, your turn, I’ll get them to deliver something for you. Or do you want me to make something?”

“’m not a kid!” Parker protested, pouting as she walking to their living room, trying to ignore the weird feeling in her stomach at Eliot’s offer. Probably a side effect of the hunger. So what if she also got it whenever Hardison complimented her on her skill, or Sophie said she had looked nice that day?

She shook her head to clear her thoughts and picked up the newspaper Eliot actually read. She didn’t get the point of newspapers. She flopped on the couch, in a posture so terrible she was sure Eliot would yell at her for later but what did he know? This was comfortable.

Nothing of interest caught her eye, so she threw that newspaper back onto the table and got another from his pile. She leafed through the pages halfheartedly, the text all blurring into one big block of black text, the pictures just making her grimace. This newspaper went back on the pile, as did the next. And the next.

By the time Eliot came to the living room to check on Parker, having finished all his cooking and cleaning and even changed into an unremarkable outfit that offered him anonymity, the thief was restless. He found her sitting on her ankles, methodically shredding and folding different pieces of paper and seemingly making origami ... somethings. Nothing that resembled anything he could guess the identity of.

“Seriously Parker?”

“Everything is boring Eliot!” Parker whined according to Eliot; frustratingly conveyed according to Parker.

Eliot bit back the retort on the tip of his tongue. If he pushed her too hard she would disappear and who knew when Nate would call them together before he could force her to sit down for a proper meal she would pick at regardless.

“I will be back in two hours. If you can’t decide on take-out, I have leftovers of the soup and bread I made in the kitchen. Or last night’s shepard’s pie and carrot and corn salad in the fridge. Help yourself. You better have eaten by the time I am back or I am forcing you to have brussels sprouts.” Eliot said before putting on his jacket and heading to the door. He stopped right before he closed it, looking back at her. Parker stayed still in her place, face still twisted in a grimace at the thought of brussels sprouts. Eliot grinned at her, but not the type of smile that normal people smiled at Parker. The kind that reminded her why most people were scared of Eliot Spencer. It looked like a shark’s. She liked sharks.

Parker pouted some more as she cleaned up the mess she had made behind, knowing that Eliot would glare at her until she did if the house was not tidy when he came back. Once she finished cleaning the living room back to how she found it, she went back into the kitchen and retrieved the shepard’s pie and salad from the fridge. She rummaged around the drawer for a fork, and having found her target as she waited for the microwave to beep. Retrieving her warmed up meal, she moved to the fire escape outside the kitchen window, where Eliot kept his small herb garden. She settled on the creaky stairs, having moved up them enough to get a view of the street and park outside their apartment building.

The boy and the mom were there, as always, with the mom looking ready to collapse as usual, and the boy yelling and running around with his friends as usual. There was the college student sitting against the tree, doing the last of his reading before the sun set. The old Chinese men playing GO at the old chess tables.

The pie was soft and crumbly, with more vegetable in her one scoop than she had had all day. She scraped another bite off the pie, gathering some of the vegetables as well. Just sitting quietly and watching the city go by, becoming like those ugly monster-creature statues in some of the old churches in Europe. She wasn’t envious of the people at the park. She knew she wasn’t like them. And that was ok. Eliot had told her. Different doesn’t always mean bad.

It had surprised her how quickly the team had managed to take up a space in her world. She had never thought that she would never work in a team, much less four people who insisted on checking on her and feeding her and making sure she was ok. Well that’s not true. She had just grown so used to being alone. To doing everything on her own, and not relying on anyone. Not since Archie left her to be on her own. Other people were liabilities he had told her. Other people could not be trusted. Other people were slow and heavy, and she needed to be light and quick.

Not the team though. Eliot though. Eliot understood her, understood her better than the others. Parker liked to think it was because they were similar but that wasn’t true. Eliot understood how people worked, he could make himself be normal, make others like him. He could make himself look safe to approach. Normal people never came too close to her, it was as if they could sense she was different. Whatever, that suited Parker just fine. Less people paying attention just made it easier for her to steal.

A distant yell brought her back to herself, and she sat up from where she had slouched to see the boy in the park across was crying and most likely the one who had yelled. He was on the ground and seemed to be yelling because he had fallen of the monkey bars. Amateur. But Parker kept watching as the boy’s mother rushed to the child, hugging him to her chest and rubbing his back as she examined the wound. A few other parents and others circled the pair, another mother offering something that looked like Kleenex maybe?

Parker knew most people would find the scene nice. Hardison would. She thinks. But all she sees when she looks at the scene is a boy who is being coddled. Why didn’t they see it would be better if they just left him alone. What would happen to him when he was by herself the next time he got hurt? It was better if he was alone.

Parker mechanically swallowed the bite she had been chewing and scrapped her fork only to find that she had managed to finish her plate. That explained the full stomach.

That was a lie. It would be worse if he had been alone. Parker knew that. She had just become convinced that no one would be coming anyways, so she could only rely on herself. But the team had been proving her wrong hadn’t they?

Nate looked out for all of them, made sure they were never cornered. In the last job, she hadn’t even scouted the building by herself beforehand, just trusted that Nate would get her out safe.

A pit started forming in her stomach, and her throat felt like it was closing.

Sophie patiently taught her how to read people, to understand who was out to get her, and who were just oblivious and asking out of politeness. Sophie got frustrated with her sometimes when she saw Parker actively choosing or doing the wrong action, but it helped Parker. The new skills could definitely help her talk her way out next time when she was caught alone.

Her breath caught. When?

Eliot never scolded her about anything important. No, not important, anything real. He had never asked her what was wrong with her. Out of the team, Eliot was the one who understood why it was better to be alone.

It was better right?

Then why did she feel like she wanted to cry?

Hardison… Hardison was unlike anyone she had met. He reminded her of a cartoon character, with his energy and over the top dramatic protesting and his magic. He made the world bend to his direction, created doors where there weren’t any, stole more wealth with a few masterful strokes than she could with a week of planning. And yet, he was so kind, he helped old women across the street even though they pinched his cheeks afterward. He bought new toys for the orphanage, and played videogames for hours with the kids in the hospital. He made her feel like she could trust him.

She squeezed her eyes to try and relieve the pressure in her chest. She heard a distant creeking and realized the stairs she was sitting on were shaking slightly with the force of her trembling.

When warm arms gently encircled her wrists, a strangled sob made its way out of her throat and she opened her eyes to find Eliot looking steadily at her. No pity, some concern? For her? He didn’t try to approach her, or to move away. He just stayed where he was. What did he want?

“Parker, is it ok if I sit next to you?”

Oh. Permission.

Parker gave a shaky nod.

Eliot nodded back and moved slowly to sit beside her. The stairs weren’t particularly wide so it ended up with them squished between the wall and the railings, the sides of their bodies pressed together.

“Do you want to talk? Or do you want me to talk? Or do you just want to sit here for a while?” Eliot asked, not pushing. He never pushed. None of them did.

“I don’t know …” Parker started, voice barely there. “I don’t know why I am - I -”

“It’s ok. Just breath. We can be here as long as you need.” Eliot said as he lightly tugged the plate out of her hands. She hadn’t even noticed her death grip on them. She let them go, vision still swimming. Eliot set the plate on the step below them and returned to her side. He held out a white piece of cloth to her, but when Parker just looked at him confused, he sighed and moved it to her face. He cupped her chin to keep her steady while he wiped off her tears. When had she started crying?

After he finished he went to remove his hand but Parker grasped it tightly and moved it to her cheek before leaning into him. She could feel his initial surprise by the sudden tension in his body but he relaxed when she just leaned into his chest, ear directly over his heart. Tentatively, he put his right arm over her back, bringing her closer. The two stayed that way for a long while, watching the sun slowly set in the distance as the lights were switched on throughout the city.

At one point, Parker grew heavier, and Eliot started to worry before he heard the faintest snores. A wave of warmth and pride hit him like a tsunami. He had known the two of them were growing closer, but for Parker to trust him enough to fall asleep around him? Eliot just gripped her tighter to him.

When the wind started to grow strong and the temperature dropped quickly, Eliot reluctantly roused Parker and guided her back inside. Neither of them said anything, Parker’s action had said more than she could with words.

Parker moved to take her usual chair, and wasn’t that unusual? She had an usual chair. She couldn’t remember the last time she had an usual anything. Eliot pulled out some dishes and set them on the countertop before turned to her.

“What do you want to eat?”

Parker shrugged.

“Try again Parker.”

“Why?” Parker asked, half curious, half frustrated about being constantly asked to choose.

Eliot looked at her for another minute before he sighed and moved towards her. She thought he was going to sit in the chair, but instead he sank to his knees in front of her, sitting on his toes.

“What had you upset on the fire escape?”

Parker looked away.

“Please look at me?” And that was unfair wasn’t it? Why did he keep being so nice. Why didn’t he ever get angry with her? Feeling too many things at once, Parker tried to get up, but Eliot blocked her. Not physically, he was sitting just far enough away that she would have to push him to leave. And she couldn’t make herself push him. Even though she had this gut feeling that if she pushed him, he would let her go.

“Why are you so nice to me?”

“Would you rather I was mean?”

“No, just-” Parker bit off, not knowing how to articulate her thoughts. “Why are you always asking me what to cook for dinner or how I am feeling, or to always pick something?”

“Why do you think I am?” Eliot said, face blank and unreadable.

“Eliot!” Parker exclaimed, feeling frustrated.

“When I first started doing this, I made a few rules for myself. And along the way, I broke every single one of them. And forgot who I was. It took me a while to remember who I was, but when I did, I realized I could never be that person anymore because I wasn’t a good person anymore,” Eliot said, looking her straight in the eye. “I have done awful things Parker, things that will haunt me for the rest of my life. But there was a person once who died, and I lived because he died. If nothing else, some days I get up and live because he didn’t get a chance to. It is easy to be alone Parker. No one to answer to, no one to look out for, no one to feel anything about. But that isn’t living. That is surviving. And I was tired. This team, I think that we are all idiots, and if Nate doesn’t quit drinking, will get either himself or us killed. But it is also the first time in far too long since I felt like I was doing something that mattered. Something good. I have too much red in my ledger, and I will never be able to clean it, but doing this, it feels like a start.”

Parker took in his speech, and she was slightly glassy-eyed, but at least less like she was on the verge of tears. “I’m scared.”

“Of what?” he urged.

“I don’t know.”

“You sure about that?” Eliot hadn’t wanted to press her, but at this point he couldn’t ignore it either.

“What? Yes, I know that I am scared but don’t know why.” Parker said, confused and slightly annoyed.

“Let me ask you again then. Why were you crying outside?” Eliot said, shifting so he was sitting cross-legged. To his surprise, Parker pushed away from the chair and rather than leaving as he was half-expecting her to, she sank to mimic his position.

“I am not used to this.” Parker started before stopping. She was biting her lip, and tense as a coiled spring ready to bolt. Eliot just sat back and let her talk. “The other day, I just followed Nate’s plan.” She looked at him expectantly.

He kept his face carefully blank. “Ok? What is the problem there?”

“Eliot, I didn’t make a back up plan!”

Ah. Her issues were getting clearer.

“You don’t need one.”

“But that’s the problem, of course I do. What happens when I get stuck alone and -”

“Parker look at me.” Eliot said, cutting her off before she worked herself up again. When he had her attention, he slowly moved so she could track his movements and placed both his hands on his knees, palms up. Slowly, as if scared to make the wrong move, Parker placed her own hands in his.

“I am not going to speak for the others, just for myself ok, though I have a very strong gut feeling that they feel the same way. If we ever had a plan go wrong and you got stuck alone, I will come to rescue you. I will never abandon you like that ok.” Eliot said, with such conviction, Parker felt rattled to her bones. She may not have known Eliot for very long, but she knew that he meant every single word he had told her. “I know that asking for your trust may be a lot -”

“I do.”

Eliot stopped, her words a genuine shock. He had not expected her to admit that. To herself or to him.

“You do what?” He had to be sure that she was sure.

“I do trust you. And I am scared Eliot. Because what happens when this stops? When the team is done, and we go back to working alone? I can’t… it took me time to figure out how to work alone and I finally have it but now I am supposed to work in a team and I am starting to like it and what happens when we are done? And I can’t be a good thief by myself anymore? I can’t be normal, Eliot, thieving is who I am!” Parker said, finishing quietly, as she pulled her knees up and hugged them, leaning against the chair for support.

“Parker… first of all, whether or not we continue working as a team, you are the best thief in the world, and that is not by accident ok. You earned that title, and working in a team is not going to weaken you. Secondly, do you remember the con a few weeks ago where you managed to talk the CEO into giving you the passcode to the safe?”

“I didn’t even stab him.” Parker remembered with a small smile.

“You didn’t even stab him.” He agreed, voice full of mirth as he let out a small chuckle. “You were a grifter. Even if we stop working as a team, our time together doesn’t go away. I have confidence you will pick up abilities from the rest of us and become truly unstoppable. But most importantly, Parker, you can do anything you want. You are so smart, and resourceful. Trust me, normal is overrated, and no one is really normal. Everyone has something they are hiding that others would judge them for. You are so much more than just a thief."

Parker seemed to mull over his words, and he let her. “You really think so?”

Eliot smiled. “Yes.”

Parker smiled back, and she weakly punched him on the shoulder as she gave a watery chuckle. “I want tacos.”

Eliot laughed. “Tacos it is. Want to help me?”

Parker nodded, still smiling. Eliot grinned and got to his feet, offering a hand to help her up as well. “Go wash your face and come, I’ll get the ingredients out.”

“Okay” Parker replied before heading to his washroom.

Watching her go, Eliot smiled, happy that they had had this conversation. This team of idiots may be the death of him, but he could honestly think of worst people to die because of. So all in all, he had a feeling maybe this team could make it in the long term.

At least, no one was going to die while he was watching their backs.

#leverage #leverage fanfic #eliot spencer #parker (leverage)#eliot spencer & parker #my fic #my writing #This is just my form of venting about these two babies #They deserve the world after all the hurt it put them through #And i just needed them to talk about it

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the--sad--hatter · 5 years

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Frozen Heart-5 (Bucky x Reader)

Frozen Heart Masterlist

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU, DEADPOOL & X-MEN

WARNINGS - ALL OF THEM, SMUT, VIOLENCE ANGST

DESCRIPTION -

When Nick Fury finally catches the Ex-Shield Agent knowns Black Ice, The Thief with a Frozen Heart he puts her where she belongs. With The Avengers.

You’re not happy about that decision but you’re the only one who’s kicking up a fuss.

Natasha and Clint are happy to have you back in their lives, Sam Wilson is a big fan, Tony Stark just wants you to keep your hands off his stuff and Steve finds out that not only do you have a connection but you were there for him when nobody else was.

Bucky Barnes is one of the few people who doesn’t have a connection with you but he’d really really like one.

** Everything in Italics is being signed, not said out loud.**

Current Word Count - 21,589k Ao3 Link

Chapter Five - A Memorable Frost

“Again!” You insisted, shaking your body loose and taking a deep breath.

“NO!” Clint yelled from behind the tree.

“Please? Just one more.” You pleaded.

“You said that on the last arrow. And the one before that. And the one before that.” Clint shouted.

“I’m getting better though.” You whined.

“You’re fucking not. You’re getting worse.” He grumbled, poking his head out from behind the tree to glare pointedly at the chunks of ice and freeze burned grass.

“I froze the last arrow!” You said indignantly, putting your hands on your hips.

“And half the lawn and two trees. The one before that got a cool breeze.” He grumbled, nocking another arrow anyway.

You planted your feet firmly on the ground and raised your hands, readying yourself.

“PULL!” You called.

Clint let the arrow fly and you summoned the icy power that was a part of you, blasting it at the arrow sailing towards you. Nothing happened.

“Ahhh!” You yelped, throwing yourself to the side to avoid it.

“Useless!”

“I hate you!” You signed at your brother from your ungraceful heap on the ground.

He scoffed and put his bow down, regarding you thoughtfully.

“Maybe it’s time you called for some help from the experts.” He suggested tentatively.

“Are you joking? You know they still haven’t forgiven me!” You said in disbelief.

“That’s not true, The Professor isn’t one to hold grudges.” Clint argued.

“Because I’m going to go near the mind reading professor while I know what I know.” You scoffed.

“Well there’s always…” He started to suggest.

“No! He still hates me anyway.” You said grumpily.

“It’s been years, I’m sure he’s over it.” He tried to contend.

“Not happening.” You asserted.

“Suit yourself but I’m done. Me and my arrows have suffered enough.” He huffed, stomping away.

You groaned and threw yourself back onto the grass, looking up at the sky.

“Hi.” Bucky said softly, walking over slowly with an air that was part curiosity, part concern.

You tilted your head to look up at him, watching as he cautiously made his way over to you, avoiding the larger ice chunks. There was a look of wonder and awe in his eyes, especially for the ice boulder than was twice the size of him. He was dressed for working out and you guessed he’d been running when he saw you and probably come over to make sure you hadn’t accidentally knocked yourself out with an Ice missile.

“Hey.” You said, waving to him.

His shadow blocked the sunlight as he stood over you, looking torn.

“Do you need help getting up?” He offered.

“Or, you could sit down.” You countered.

There was a light thump as he took you up on the offer and settled onto the grass next to you.

“You know… I have ice powers, and I was in the army.” You told him.

“Yeah, I heard.” He smirked.

“So…” You said.

“So?” he asked, clearly lost as to where you were going with this.

“One could argue that I am The Winter Soldier.” You explained, grinning.

He let out a huff of laughter.

“I’ll tell Hydra they infringed on your copyright.” He chuckled and you immediately sobered.

He hadn’t picked the damn name, you knew that. What had possessed you to say something so insensitive you had no idea. Actually, you did know. It was your brain and it was an asshole.

“I’m sorry. It’s bad enough I’m flaunting my freezy stuff around and then I go and say something like that. I don’t know why you even talk to me.” You groaned.

“You’re pretty nice. At least when you aren’t talking anyway.” He said and you squawked indignantly.

“No, the Ice doesn’t bother me that much though. My memories are intact, so I just try and think of good snow related memories.” He admitted.

“You do?” You asked gently, leaving it open for him to divulge or change the subject.

“Yeah. When I was a kid, I loved the snow, meant less school and more playing. As soon as the first flakes fell every year, I’d bundle Stevie up in every coat we owned, his, mine, his mother’s… I’d drag him outside to watch it fall. I loved the way it would settle on the ground you know. It was like watching the world become a blank canvass, the pavements and grass just slowly turning white until they were untouched. It was beautiful.” He said wistfully.

You got lost in his voice, the bittersweet pain behind the memory.

“Sounds amazing.” You whispered.

“It was. Kind of like now….” He said, grinning at you like he knew something you didn’t and pushing you to a sitting position.

Spreading outwards from you there was a radius of pure white snow blanketing the ground. Exactly as you’d been picturing in your mind.

“I did it!” You breathed out in shock.

“Yeah doll, you did.” He said gently, proudly.

“I did it!” You exclaimed.

And before you could think about it you launched yourself at him, throwing your arms around his neck and landing on his lap. His arms automatically caught you and he hesitated for barely a moment before wrapping them around your torso. You stilled as you realized what you’d just done and pulled back abruptly, blushing like mad.

You’d just launched yourself at him… You’d be lucky if he didn’t file a sexual harassment claim.

“I’m so sorry! I just got caught up in the excitement, I didn’t mean to offend you.” You said in a rush.

He looked stricken and guilt twisted at your gut. Then his arm snaked around your waist and pulled you back in.

“You did good Ice; you deserve a hug.” He quipped, enclosing you in the warm embrace.

Your mind sat back and refused to interfere as your head rested itself on his shoulder and you wrapped your arms around him.

“I… Thank you Bucky. Thank you.” You sighed happily, nuzzling into him.

He was sure you were going to notice the erratic hammering of his heart in his chest and regretfully pulled away before he lost any more sense.

“Well, you should probably get inside now that’s the weathers taken a turn.” He suggested nervously.

“I have to tell Clint!” You said excitedly jumping to your feet and running off.

You got a few meters before you turned, jogging backwards so you could smile at him.

“Seriously, thank you.” You said again.

“Anytime doll.”

You raced back inside to gloat to your brother but along the way you were brought to a screeching halt by a text message.

A very intriguing text message.

~~~~~Two Hours Later~~~~~

You stepped out of your room, satisfied with your appearance and headed for the elevator when your phone buzzed again.

Big (Brother) Bird: Where are you going?

You read the text from Clint and scoffed, shoving the phone back in your pocket when it buzzed again.

Big (Brother) Bird: Don’t ignore me you ‘lil shit.

You looked around and backed up a few steps, looking at the ceiling.

“I know you’re up there!” You called loudly.

There was a banging noise and you jumped out of the way, barely avoiding being smacked in the head with the vent covering as Clint lithely dropped onto the floor in front of you.

“Where are you going?” He asked again.

“Out.” You informed him helpfully.

“Where?” He pressed.

“Church, can’t you tell from my outfit?” You sassed, gesturing at the little black dress.

“Is that why you’re dressed like a sinner?” He said, giving the dress a dirty look.

“I’m taking that as a compliment.” You decided.

“You shouldn’t. Have you got a date?” He demanded.

“Ask me again after I get to the bar.” You said.

“Let me guess, you’re going to the bar without your wallet?” He guessed.

“See, I knew all those people who called you stupid were wrong.” You told him, smiling sweetly.

“At least I’m not a slut.” He said childishly.

“Slut shaming is so last decade.” You told him.

“Your face is so last decade.” He retorted.

“I’m leaving now, before you embarrass yourself any further.” You scoffed.

” Wait, just let me fix that stray hair.” He said and reached out, mussing your hair as much as he could before you rabbit punched him in the ribs and leaned away, spluttering.

He cackled loudly and jumped back into the vents before you could stop him.

“Jackass.” You muttered under your breath, stomping away and fixing your hair up as much as you could.

You were still muttering obscenities when the elevator doors swooshed open and in your eagerness to escape you walked into something very hard.

“Oooft.” You gasped, nearly landing on your ass due to the violent rebound.

“Shit, doll, are you ok?”

You looked up at the very concerned face of Bucky Barnes who had his arms outstretched like he was getting ready to catch you.

“Is your entire chest made of metal as well?” You asked him, gesturing at his pecs.

“No? Just the arm.” He said, going pink.

“Bucky, you’re fucking solid!” You exclaimed.

“I’m so sorry.” He said, like it was a problem.

“Was not a complaint.” You assured.

“What?” He asked and you realized what you’d just said.

“What?” You asked in an embarrassed panic.

“You just said…” He trailed off, frowning.

“I have a concussion or something. Ignore me.” You blurted.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” He checked.

“Really, I’m fine. I swear.” You said.

It was at this point Bucky seemed to notice what you were wearing, his eyes actually moving down your body so slowly that you started to blush.

“You look nice.” He said.

You were probably reading into things; it was more than likely nothing but… he sounded almost sad about the fact that you didn’t look like a mess.

“Uh, thanks. I have stuff, a bar, meeting friends. That kinda thing.” You stammered.

“Right. Well, have fun.” He said, stepping away to let you in the elevator.

“Yes sir.” You said, immediately wanting to bash yourself on the head for it.

You stepped into the elevator and just before the doors closed his hand snaked out to stop them.

“Ice? You, well you look really pretty.” He said softly.

“Thanks, you too.” You whispered.

Would it be possible to bang your head on the elevator wall hard enough to knock yourself out? Nah, he’d probably try and stop you. Mercifully he didn’t point out your awkward faux pas and let the door close on you.

When you were gone, he ran his fingers through his hair, sighing heavily. You didn’t have any friends; you were legally dead. And the dress… He knew the vision of you in that dress was going to haunt him for a long time, because he knew what you were wearing it for, he wasn’t stupid. He shouldn’t be jealous, shouldn’t feel so ill at the thought of what you were doing. You weren’t his to covet and he had decided to be your friend. But still, there was the awful voice in his head egging on his forbidden desires. Imagining you wearing something like that for him, him being the one to get you out of the dress.

The thrilling mental image had two effects on his body, making him feel nauseous at the idea of sleeping with you because he wanted so much more than just your body but at the same time, the primal urge he had to rip the dress of and bury his cock deep inside you was making him uncomfortably hard.

“Friends. Just friends.” He whispered to himself, shaking off the traitorous desire.

Or trying to shake it off and failing miserably.

You slipped a twenty from under your dress and paid the cab driver before you got out of the car, looking up at the large building you’d been dropped off at. Throwing your shoulders back and raising your chin, you walked into the lobby with confidence. It was slightly false confidence, but only slight. You weren’t that nervous about why you were here and what you were here for, it was remarkably simple actually. The elevator took you up and as soon as you stepped off, there he was.

“I’ve gotta admit, even when you accepted my invitation, I didn’t think you’d actually show.”

“You get stood up a lot hot stuff, got a complex about it?” You smirked.

“Nobody stands me up, but not every woman is as mysterious and cold hearted as you.”

“I’m not that mysterious. If you really want to know, you could ask. I don’t see a lot of talking in our future though.” You said coyly.

“After I went to all that effort of ordering Chinese and turns out, you just want me for my body.” He pouted.

“If I’ve offended you, maybe I should just leave.” You tutted, turning back towards the elevator.

His arm circled your waist, pulling you back.

“Not until I’ve gotten what you came for.” He whispered, his lips ghosting across your shoulder.

It was obvious really; Johnny Storm was a notorious playboy and you were emotionally unavailable. That didn’t mean that you were a nun, you still had physical needs, and who could satisfy them better than the man of fire? You spun around in his hold and he didn’t hesitate to capture you in a scorching kiss. It was everything you had hoped for, hot and passionate and completely unemotional.

You pushed your body into his, gasping in surprise when an image of beautiful grey blue eyes flitted through your mind.

Your fingers grazed the back of his neck, brushing his hair and you frowned when your fingers itched to tug at longer, brunette locks.

His hands ran across your body and you shivered, wondering what it would feel like to have metal caress you with skin.

“Godfuckingdamnit.” You swore.

You hadn’t had to work this hard to get a man out of your mind since… since Daniel.

“Everything ok?” Johnny frowned.

“No. I can’t do this.” You sighed, butting your head against his shoulder.

“Whoever he is, he’s an idiot.” Johnny scoffed.

“Pardon?”

“Whoever you’re thinking about? You’re here with me, thinking about him instead of being with him. So, he’s an idiot for not grabbing hold of this opportunity.” He explained.

“He’s not the idiot. He’s, well he’s not what I want. My brain just hasn’t got the memo.” You sighed.

“Look, you’re clearly dealing with some issues. I don’t mind you working them out on me.” He said, raising his eyebrow to make it clear exactly what he meant.

You were not going to sit around and pine for somebody. Anybody.

“Good.” You said, pushing him backwards and sending him sprawling onto a chair.

He smirked as you hiked your dress over your thighs so you could straddle his waist and pulled him into another scorching kiss.

A/N - I painstakingly recreated all the notes I lost when my laptop broke so I could restart this baby... So Ice is back!I'm undecided as to whether I will actually write the Johnny Storm smut, I guess it's up to you. Other than that, what did you think of this chapter?

@shirukitsune @thelostallycat@jsmith509@buckitybarnes@aw-shit-nuggets @pleasefollowmeuwu @nerdy-bookworm-1998@boxofteenageideas@jaynnanadrews@psychoredpanda@marbleowl @l0kisbitch@brownlee-22@fluffeh-kitty @mywinterwolf@poppunkassbitch@angieptt @muggleborngirl@markusstraya @tarastudiesalot@pinkisokay @buckitybarnes@firefly-in-darkness@chipilerendi @psychoredpanda@littledeadrottinghood@boxofteenageideas@pleasefollowmeuwu @aw-shit-nuggets @brownlee-22@deathofmissjackson @yourwonderbelle @firefly-in-darkness@hiddles-rose @myfandomlife-blog @thosesexytexasboys@liveonce-sodoitright @spnrvt @dilaila95 @dahkness@sexyvixen7

#hattersmarvelverse #bucky x reader

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wolfbro92 · 5 years

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rip yall I'm on mobile and do not know how this app works. anywho please enjoy this snippet of oc feels that will mean jackshit to yall but I made me cry so whatever.

Trigger warning time: Blood, Choking, coughing do to illness but its magic, Avalanches, self destructive behaviors, purple prose, and yearning.

I know this isnt how tags work work but shh

#ocs #yearning #hurt and comfort #the gay shit #mopper #uncut, untamed, and unedited

Mikely shifted the ax that sat heavey in his hands. Rolling the stiffness out of his shoulders as he listened to the distant rumbling of an avalanche. It subsided soon enough, it's distance making it a non-theat to anything he cared about, and so, he was left to his thoughts and to his wood splittinng.

ca thunk

thunk

crack

A new chunk of log placed on the stump

ca thunk

thunk

crack

And another, and another, and another after it.

Mikely lost himself in the simple motion, the exertion and the ache beginning to form in his arms were a pleasant distraction from his thief's proposition.

He couldn't give up on his role. He couldn't let all of those who rely on him for safety come to harm through his inaction. He couldn't go back on his word.

Copper's voice echoed through his head, the awful fairy who haunted his thoughts had offered to whisk him away. His stupid smile and kind eyes had disarmed him, made him vulnerable to the idea. "Come explore with me, I can take you anywhere, show you anything."

"show me a way to keep them all safe while I'm away." he had gritted through his teeth as Copper's kind hands laced golden magic under his skin, healing the gash that had started this awful argument.

"They can protect themselves, there are many fine and strapping folk down there. Any one of them could learn whatever they need to to try and fill your shoes," Copper's hands had soothed over his shoulders, "Besides how many people have you already saved, my hero? how many more must you save till you except it as enough? When will you have earned rest?"

"You know when." Mikely had leaned back into his chest and closed his eyes, ignoring the way the massive creature's hands had stilled before looping his arms around him a little too tight. A little too possessive.

"Why? please help me understand Starlight, Why must you give everything for people who scorn you?"

"Because I couldn't save them all."

"Of course you couldn't! You're just one man! My dear, you're brilliant in so many ways, and I refuse to accept you are stupid enough to genuinely believe you could do what even the gods can't!" Copper had turned him around in his arms, holding him like he might break, concern and hurt and emotions Mikely did not have a name for paled his stripes.

mikely had shoved him away, the spring in his gut coiling him tighter and tighter until he felt he would explode. "Well I should have been able too!" he stood from the bed pulling his bloodied tunic back over his head as he stormed out of the room. Copper was a coward, he always ran at the first sign of danger, so Mikely didn't know why he had expected him to understand.

ca thunk

thunk

crack

ca thunk

crack

thunk

He buried the ax in the stump with one overly forceful swing. He was panting and the hurt in his chest was returning just thinking about that awful conversation. He let go of the well worn handle and rubbed callused hands over his sweaty face, panting and pacing away from the stump for a few steps as he forced his emotions back into the box he kept them in.

"Mikely!" Metock's urgent voice pulled him out of his head. she was running and she looked frantic in a way Mikely had only seen a handful of times in their shared lifetimes, "There's something wrong with Copper," she bent at the waist panting as she desperately tried to catch her breath and convey this message, "He collapsed and I dont think he can breathe. I'm going to go find a physician in town." she took of down the hill leaving Mikely in a daze of blurry emotion.

Before he was even fully aware of what he was doing, his legs were carrying him back to the house, he heard Nulk shouting and something big coughing and gasping.

The ache in his legs didn't stop him as he rounded the corner into the sitting room as fast as they could carry him.

Nulk was shaking Copper, calling to him as the massive fae knelt bent over and heaving. Mikely knelt beside them looking to nulk for any explanation as he wrapped an arm over coppers back in desperate attempt to steady him.

"He was fine! and then he just froze and started coughing, he said he was okay but then he collapsed and it's still getting worse," they looked over to Mikely, desperate for guidance. "What do we do?" their voice was quiet and panicked hoarse.

Copper was the only one among them with any sort of medical training.

Mikely just pulled him closer, his stomach flipped as Copper's coughing turned to gagging, an awful clicking noise rattling from the back of his throat. His stripes were white with panic in a way he would normally try to hide.

Copper gasped as he grabbed for Mikely's hand and pulled it to his throat. He heaved as he turned to Mikely, eyes pleading as his hands fumbled Mikely's into a facsimile of choking.

Mikely stared wide eyed, his careful mask shattered by all of this. was copper dying? Mikely's mind ran blank as copper asked him to choke him out.

Copper's grip on his hand tightened it against his neck as he convulsed with another fit of coughing, his spit black with his own blood.

Mikely nodded and moved his hands into place, pushing on the underside of Copper's jaw and collapsing his trachea enough to cut off what little air he was getting. As he faded, copper struggled on pure instinct, too weak to do much other than writhe as he heaved and coughed himself into unconsciousness.

As soon as he stilled Mikely let go, his breathing evening out as he slept, hoarse and wheezing, but no longer choking.

"Help me get him to bed." Mikely said, hoping his voice wasn't as shaky as he felt.

nulk nodded and stood with Mikely, shifting to be larger than him. Mikely helped loop Copper's arms over their shoulders and followed close behind as nulk mostly dragged the fairy to the nearest bedroom.

Mikely shoved open the door for them and helped them situate copper on the sheets. Not thinking, just doing as his blood roared in his ears. He pulled a chair over to the edge and sat himself down, ready for what he felt would be a long sentinel.

Nulk mumbled something about going to go find Metock as they shuffled out of the room, leaving Mikely with his thoughts and with his guilt.

Metock and the physician came and went, he said something about how Copper seemed perfectly fine but he had no idea what he was and so 'fine' was a relative term in this situation.

Mikely waited.

And waited.

Nulk brought two cups of tea to the room, both sat cold now.

Metock came in and sat on the edge if the bed and chatted idly with, mostly with herself, for a moment and then left again.

And Mikely waited.

He hated waiting.

I left him with too much time to focus on the growing fear that his last words to Copper might have been him snapping at him, and it was making his insides feel like they were full of rust and sludge.

Mikely knew on a practical level that Copper cared for him and went out of his way to help him, more so than anybody else. He knew Copper had just been trying to protect him from himself, as much as Mikely hated to admit he needed it.

And, he knew that his own feelings for the man weren't as complicated as he desperately wanted them to be.

As Mikely sat there listening to the creaking of the house and the near silent breathing of the fairy beside him, And as he watched to slow rise and fall of Copper's chest and the way his lips quircked up in a silently dream filled snarl and how his hands flex against the bed, and as his mind filled the quiet spaces with coughing, Mikely felt something in him break for the last time.

He loved copper so so much, he wanted to be with him, and despite all good logic going against it, copper seemed to love him back, and Mikely was done denying that the best part of his day was curling up next him and burying his face in the sweet scented expanses of grey and red skin. He was done pretending he was indifferent to the little stones and bits of broken glass and shell left on his desk. He was done refusing His Fairy's affection.

He was done denying himself a happy ever after.

As Mikely sat back in his chair he knew there would only be a short period of time he would get Copper to himself, he knew the fairy would grow tired of him as soon as he got to old to be beautiful enough for him. He knew Copper's home would call him away soon enough and that Copper would leave him on this side of the hill.

Mikely knew it wouldn't be long before Copper realized he could do so much better somewhere else, and he planned to make full use of whatever time he hadn't already wasted.

And so he waited.

As the sun was creeping in under the curtains, Coper began to stir. He shifted and for a brief moment Mikely feared the coughing was going to return as Copper cleared his throat. As he stretched and sluggishly drifted back to the land of the awake he coughed under his breath every few seconds.

Though, Mikely was grateful it was more of a 'tail end of a particularly nasty head cold' type cough than the 'Oh god Oh god is he dying' type of choking it had been yesterday.

"Morning Sunlight" He said as he rolled over in the bed to lay on his stomach, pillowing his head on his forarms

"Care to explain yesterday?"

"hmm-" Copper yawned as he turned his head to face Mikely, "Nah, I think I'm good," He smirked.

"Copper, you Scared us. You dont get to brush this off." His voice was quiet, which unfortunately undercut his normally harsh tone.

Copper buried his face into the crook of his arm and groaned, "Its… its complicated, ok? Can I explain later?" His hair raised as he made a face into his sleeve, "Plus, I really need a bath and to go change…"

"Ok, let's go."

"Was that you inviting yourself into my bath?" He threw a mock offended expression in Mikely's direction.

"Yes." He said while getting to his feet.

#long post #blood #injury #sicknesses #avalanche #ask to tag #mopper #copper/Mikely #theyre my ocs i get to pick the ship name #and its mopper #i made thes characters when i was like #12 does it show?#anywho comments are welcome and so are critiques #honestly i just want peer validation #dont mention the typos tho #i know theyre there #i also know i dont know how to spell so like #*raspberry noise*

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individuationfic · 5 years

Text

Hoping I’ve Got It All Right Chapter 2: Don’t You Know What You’re Starting?

AO3

Sakura Sojiro is prepared for a lot of things, but he’s not prepared for the boys who walks into his café.

The kid is quiet. Polite. He calls him “Sakura-san” and doesn’t complain about sleeping in the attic. The only question he has is if he could plant flowers in the window if he can find a planter box for it. He is, in no way, shape, or form, the delinquent Sojiro was expecting.

Sojiro doesn’t know how to handle this kind of honesty, so he calls the kid a pain in the ass, tells him not to do anything reckless, and heads home, where even if Futaba comes with issues, they make sense.

[Akira]: Got here safe. Sakura-san gave me a big room.

[Jun]: Good! I shipped some dried flowers with your clothes. Make sure to hang them up.

[Akira]: Okay, Papa.

[Tatsuya]: You’re going to the school tomorrow, right?”

[Akira]: Yeah.

[Tatsuya]: Let us know how that goes.

[Akira]: I will.

[Akira]: I’ll probably head to bed early. I’m tired.

[Jun]: Good night, sweetie!

[Tatsuya]: Good night.

[Akira]: Night. Love you.

[Jun]: 💖💖💖

Papa sent some dried lavender, so Akira hangs it by what he decides is the head of his bed. Well, “bed” is probably generous. It’s a thin mattress on a bunch of crates. He glances at the couch he just wiped down and decides the “bed” is his best bet for any kind of restful sleep.

He’s glad he convinced Dad and Papa not to come. They would never let him stay here, and this is their last hope. Akira can deal with living in an attic for a year if it means everything will go back to normal after.

He re-deletes the weird red app from his phone, goes to sleep, and dreams of a blue prison, of twin wardens, and of a man with a long nose and a deep voice.

[Akira]: I met my homeroom teacher. Her name is Kawakami-sensei.

[Akira]: She seems tired.

[Jun]: She had to come in on her day off. Of course she’s tired.

[Tatsuya]: Give her my cell number next time you see her. I want to introduce myself.

[Akira]: Ok, Dad.

[Jun]: Did you ride the train today?

[Akira]: No, Sakura-san drove me. I’ll have to take the train tomorrow.

[Jun]: Well, be careful, and leave a little early so you have extra time in case you get lost.

[Akira]: I know, Papa, I will.

The punk kid reminds Akira of Uncle Eikichi, so he feels comfortable following him to school. Which would have been fine, but the school is a castle and they’re in a dungeon and all Akira wanted was a normal day.

He feels sick—like, physically ill—when the man his schoolmate called “Kamoshida” starts beating him. It’s the same feeling Akira had before he pushed the man who sued him, encouraging him to act.

So he does.

Even when he’s pinned to the wall, he struggles. He feels a bit like a feral ccat, wriggling and hissing and clawing at the suits of armor to get free. His back is already aching; it will probably be covered in bruises come morning from how hard he’s being slammed against the brick behind him.

But he keeps fighting, because he’ll die before he lets an innocent person get hurt if he can stop it.

And then comes a voice, both new and familiar, and his head feels like it’s going to break in half because the insides are too big for his skull. Call upon my name, says the voice, and release thy rage! so Akira says, “Arsène.”

The sound of his voice alerts Kamoshida, who stops in his brutal beating of the other boy to face Akira. The blond boy is panting, covered in scratches and bruises and looking half dead already. Something flares in the back of Akira’s mind. Something primal. This boy whose name he doesn’t even know is his. He knows this like he knows the sky is blue and Aunt Maya can’t clean. It’s a fact, undeniable and true. It’s not sexual or romantic, but the boy is his, and he refuses to let Kamoshida touch him again.

“I will stop you,” he tells Kamoshida, and he almost doesn’t recognize his own voice. It’s low, guttural. Barely human. He’s gratified to see some of the color drain from Kamoshida’s face, and, emboldened, continues speaking. “You have no right to touch him.”

Kamoshida laughs, though it’s a bit shaky. “No right? I’m the king of this castle! I can do whatever I please!” He jerks his head, and one of the guards slams his shield into Akira’s face, knocking his glasses to the cell floor.

“If this is how you want to play it,” Akira says in that animalistic voice, “so be it.”

And there’s a mask on his face, and he needs to get it off get it off getitoff, so he rips it off, and he’s surrounded by blue flames that don’t burn.

“Do you honestly expect me to believe that?”

“You can believe or disbelieve whatever you want. I’m just telling you what happened, Prosecutor-san.”

The cat-monster he and the other boy rescue is familiar to Akira. He can’t really place why, just like how he knows the boy is his somehow, but this isn’t the first time he’s met Morgana. He tells himself it’s because of Arsène and Zorro and pretends that’s it until he has more time to think about it.

Going to school after… everything is surreal. He tells Kawakami-sensei he got lost on the subway and while he knows she doesn’t believe it, he also knows she has no proof that he’s lying. He gives her his dad’s cell number and sits behind the girl who got in Kamoshida’s car this morning and does his best to ignore his classmates’ pointed whispers.

The boy is Sakamoto Ryuji, Akira learns on Shujin’s roof. When Akira looks at him, he sees the white flowers of the copaiba tree, or maybe the African violet. Something that symbolizes his honesty and vitality.

He doesn't know why he has this power. He doesn’t know why the school turned into a castle and then back into a school. But he knows he wants answers and has the ability to get them, so he agrees to help Ryuji.

(Plus, he’s not about to leave Kamoshida alone with Ryuji again. Ryuji is his, and he’s going to protect what’s his.)

Sojiro is angry with Akira when he comes back to the café.

Maybe angry isn’t the right word. Sakura-san doesn’t really care enough about him to be angry. Irritated is more like it, Akira thinks. He gets another lecture on staying out of trouble because “I’m in the restaurant business, you know.” Akira does his best to placate Sakura-san and escapes up to the attic. He’s going to need his rest if he and Ryuji are going to make any progress tomorrow.

[Akira]: I think I made a friend today.

[Jun]: That’s great, honey! What’s their name?

[Akira]: His name is Ryuji. I got lost in the subway and he helped me find the school.

[Akira]: He reminds me of Uncle Eikichi.

[Tatsuya]: Just what we need. Another Michel.

[Jun]: Eikichi is a lovely person and if Akira has made a friend like him, he’s a lucky young man.

[Akira]: I think so, too.

It takes Akira and Ryuji an embarrassingly long while to connect the weird app on their phones to the whole school-castle thing. When they finally do, Akira is back in the strange outfit, mask and all, from yesterday and Ryuji is left in just his school uniform.

Morgana, despite his (and Akira is sure Morgana is a “he,” no matter what his name is) feigned indifference, helps Akira and Ryuji break back into the castle. And maybe it’s just Morgana’s phantom thief talk, but sneaking around like this really is exciting.

Not that Dad can ever know, Akira thinks as he strikes down another group of what Morgana calls “Shadows.” If he knew what a rush I get out of this, he’d keel over.

And that’s another thing. The fighting. Akira isn’t usually a confrontational person, assault charge notwithstanding. In elementary school, he was the kid who ran and got teachers, not the one getting into fights. But this place has a strange effect on him. It makes him animalistic in a way that should scare him.

It doesn’t. It makes him feel powerful.

Until he falls.

He and Morgana are lucky Kamoshida underestimated Ryuji. If he’d been pinned down like them, they would be dead.

As it is, Akira’s encouragement helps Ryuji awaken to Captain Kidd and they manage to wipe the floor with Kamoshida’s goons.

(Whatever primal thing in the back of Akira’s mind is, it’s pleased by Ryuji’s power. Akira’s just happy Ryuji can defend himself now.)

Ryuji is still worried about the volleyball team members they saw Kamoshida torturing. Sure, they’re not real, but everything in this world is a distortion of the real world, so they both know some kind of abuse is happening. And then there was the fake Takamaki and… ugh. Any teacher who thinks of an underaged student like that is the lowest of the low.

Morgana says they have to steal Kamoshida’s heart.

Akira has a lot to think about.

He’s waiting for the train at the Aoyama station, staring at his phone for a lack of anything better to do, when something rugs at the edge of his mind. He’s not used to hearing Arsène talking in his head just yet, so he jumps at the sound (feeling? thought?) of his low voice. Turn around.

What? Why?

Trust me. Turn around.

He’s not sure what could possibly interest Arsène so much, but Arsène is also a semi-physical manifestation of his inner self, so Akira shrugs and does as he’s told.

And freezes.

A few feet away stands a girl he never though he would see again. Sure, her hair is longer now, her face more angular, her body more lithe, but Akira would know her anywhere.

He sees the moment she catches sight of him. Her eyes widen and her mouth falls open in shock. For a few seconds, she is frozen, but then she rockets forward, and Akira barely has time to lift his arms before she slams into his chest. It aches a little to realize he’s more than a head taller than her now.

She’s shaking in his arms. Quietly, almost too quiet for him to hear, she says, “Akira.”

He squeezes her, impossibly gentle. “Shiho.”

#individuation #ao3fic #cover #persona series #persona 5 #persona 2

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