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yandere-sins · 3 years

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Bad Decisions

[My Commission Info] | [My Ao3] | [Ko-Fi]

I was again commissioned for a companion piece to this one! This time from the reader’s pov and some backstory. Thank you ♥

Characters: Ignatz Victor (Fire Emblem: Three Houses) x Reader Words: 3401 Warnings: Yandere, Obsession, Mentioning of stalking, Mentioning of War/Death/Blood

You could still remember the first time you met him vividly.

Taking a seat on the ledge above the training grounds, you heaved a long breath, trying to calm your racing heart. If only you could have put this energy into training more, instead of using it as a reason to take a break, but your legs felt wobbly just from thinking about getting back up. For the better of the last three weeks, you had trained and studied tirelessly. Being granted the chance to attend the academy of your dreams was no reason to slack off, and you were thankful for the opportunity you were given.

But… rubbing your sore legs and feeling your feet pulsate in the tight leather boots as they finally got a break, you had to admit that it was more challenging than you expected. Even though you had built up stamina and muscles before coming here, you were still met with the instructors’ high expectations for their top-tier students. Day in, day out, you were either on your feet and training or with your head in the books studying. No wonder it felt so draining when all you did was pressure yourself more and more on being perfect and prepared for all that would come your way. After all, your expectations of yourself far exceeded the ones anyone had in you.

“It’s tough, isn’t it?” a timid voice called out to you, and you turned your head towards it, a flask with water being held out in your direction. Surprised you took it, finally getting a look at the person behind the voice. A young man, not much older than you, smiled at you friendly, his glasses tilting a little from him leaning forward. Without waiting for your reply, he pointed at the space next to you, asking, “Mind if I join you?” and you shimmied to the side to allow him to take a seat.

“Swordsmanship isn’t my strong point either. I keep forgetting where to put my feet,” he laughed bashfully, rubbing the back of his head. He appeared friendly, approachable, and kind, but his physique was on the weaker side, making his struggles a tad obvious. Nonetheless, you weren’t one to judge someone based on appearance, and taking a sip from the water flask, you felt yourself be soothed by the refreshment. Having spent so much time holed up in the library or handling weapons hadn’t given you a lot of chances to make friends, so having someone be so kind and nonchalant around you genuinely made you happy.

Handing the flask back to him, the young man gladly accepted it. His shirt had stains of polish and sweat on it, and you realized he must have come from training himself just like you. You wondered what year he was in, or if he was a classmate you just never noticed.

“Sorry, that was weird, wasn’t it? Approaching you so out of the blue. I’m Ignatz. Ignatz Victor, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Though his name didn’t ring a bell, you shook his hand out of respect. Even if it started out a little awkward, you two soon fell into a comfortable conversation as you shared your weak points, and so did he. Your words weren’t forced out, and you started to relax around him. At the same time, Ignatz laughed and smiled at you, putting you at ease as well. Perhaps you two were more alike than it appeared at first glance, and thus you were relieved to find someone like-minded.

At that moment, you didn’t find him approaching you so weird anymore. More so, you were relieved to have someone accept you so openly and interact with you, who had been rather lonely up to this point. Part of you had always wanted to make friends in the Monastery and hang out with them, and this was the closest to it you had come. It was also refreshing to have someone to talk to, and as it turned out, Ignatz was able to lift your mood significantly with his input and suggestions as you spoke about your everyday life at the Monastery.

“Come,” he prompted, jumping down the small ledge and standing before you. Holding out his hand to you gallantly, he waited for you to join him back on the training grounds with a kind smile. You didn’t feel pressured to join him. Instead, you wanted to join him, agreeing that it might be good to not cool down too much.

“Let’s see if we can help each other,” Ignatz laughed, and perhaps, for the first time since you arrived, you let out a chuckle. Taking his hand and letting him lead you back to where the weapons were, you agreed with an enthusiastic, “Okay!”

It wasn’t a friendship you expected to have, but with every passing day, you felt yourself growing and thriving from it. With Ignatz by your side, new things were opened to you. He took you out in the city and showed you around the fields. His interests sparked new ones in you, and soon enough, you weren’t caught in that somber life you had built at the Academy before. Having someone to motivate you and lift the burden on your shoulders with a clever and upbeat nature made you strive for more and greater things. He picked you up when you were down and in a slump, helping you to enjoy your time much more than you did when you still struggled to find your place. Time passed on, and you two still stuck together. Everything was going so well.

Until it wasn’t anymore.

It was the little things that made you nervous. The glances that lingered too long, the hand next to yours on the library table whose pinky kept touching yours. Goodbye hugs that were too tight and eyes that tore away from anything just to look at you. Ignatz’s unfinished paintings that he never worked on again once his attention shifted to you instead, making you feel bad for the waste of paint, and the tests he seemed to flunk because he only ever cared for your lectures.

Somehow you were glad when he wasn’t allowed to change classes. This way, you’d have at least a little bit of privacy since he wouldn’t let you go train alone, even if you told him you had a different sparring partner this time. It had started out so innocently. You were just two people who got along well and spent a lot of time together. But now, roughly three months since you came to the Monastery, you wondered if there was anything else going on.

By now, you had made new friends and then lost some, but you found the courage to join clubs and help the student council because Ignatz had been with you all this time and supporting you. Without him, you probably wouldn’t have had the success you achieved, and while you were glad for such a good friend by your side, you slowly felt like you were drowning again. Not drowning in work and insecurities like in the beginning, but drowning in Ignatz’s presence in your life.

Truth be told, you wanted to spend some hours alone every now and then. With everything going on, you searched for ways to relax and destress from the buzz of the day, and not always did you wish for company that, frankly, made you anxious. Even if it was hard to pinpoint - perhaps because part of you wished you didn’t have to pinpoint it at all - something about Ignatz felt off.

There were off-hand comments about your life that he shouldn’t have been familiar with. Finding out about your extended family was weird, but you thought it might be registered somewhere that he could have stumbled upon. However, when he brought up your favorite toys and books from before you had joined the Academy, you raised an eyebrow. His mentions were so casual and woven into conversations that it was sometimes hard to find them, but when he also started to talk about the days you spent apart from him in the Monastery, you knew something was up.

Part of you only wanted to believe he might have a crush on you.

Sure, as sweet and positive as he was, Ignatz still occasionally tended to be clumsy and awkward. It was always easy to forgive him for a wrongdoing as he’d apologize and learn from his mistakes, though, so you never worried much. Still, it seemed like he tried to get even closer than he was to you by following you around and checking on you more often than not. It might have been pleasant and cute at first, but you had to admit you were beginning to be creeped out by his obsessive observation of you, knowing even little details like your toilet breaks or what you had for lunch.

Perhaps it was just his way of trying to tell you how much he cared and wanted to be with you. But what if it wasn’t?

The thing he didn’t realize was that the more he pushed himself on you, the more you wanted distance from him. It had been a harsh realization, one over which you lost sleep for a few nights. Because how would you be able to make it clear to the person who had supported you all this time, kept you company, and helped you through everything, that you wanted to have a break from them? Perhaps, a few days or a week. Maybe it would stop the negative feelings you had about him if only you wouldn’t interact for a while. At least, that’s what you hoped.

Waiting in front of his classroom, you picked at the skin around your fingernails nervously. Class was already dismissed, but you could see Ignatz talking with the teacher, his back turned to you. It was taking a while, but you had to do it. Better now than never. If he had feelings for you, he had to realize he wasn’t showing them in a way you were comfortable with. And if he genuinely liked and appreciated what you two had, he’d understand your request for a break as well.

It was nerve-wracking to wait for him, but eventually, you heard his signature laugh as he waved goodbye to the teacher and turned to leave, sorting his papers for a moment before he noticed you. Anxiously, you lifted your hand in a greeting, and Ignatz’s eyes widened and began to shine amorously, a broad smile curling his lips. He was so happy to see you that he quickly ran up to you, almost colliding with some passing student. But he didn’t even care, only coming to a halt right in front of you.

“Ah, I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” was his first response even though you two hadn’t actually made an appointment with each other. Ignatz stood closely to you, almost enough so that your chests would touch. It was a kind of forced intimacy that made you uncomfortable. Still, in foreknowledge about what you were going to drop on him shortly, you allowed it.

“Actually…” you mumbled, looking around in hopes that the crowds would start to dissolve. “I’ve got something to tell you. But maybe not here?”

Ignatz’s expression only grew softer as he heard that, and you wondered what he thought you were going to tell you. Nevertheless, he softly pulled you by the hand and into the small garden next to the classrooms. Sure enough, there weren’t as many students here as most took after-class activities or went to the training grounds instead, and it made you feel better. Breaking his heart in front of everyone was an embarrassment you didn’t want to put Ignatz through.

“So, what’s up?” he laughed, happy as ever, but he had yet to stop holding your hand, which you pulled away from his for him instead.

“Ignatz, it’s just…”

As expected, it was hard to form the words in your mouth. There were too many accusations on mind that you didn’t want to hit your friend with, but how else were you supposed to tell him? Something had to come to mind now, preferable a reason that wouldn’t ruin your friendship. Ignatz looked at you expectantly, as if he was hoping for a confession rather than a break announcement, but you simply didn’t return those feelings of his.

“I wanted to talk to you about us, and--”

Just when you finally managed to bring up the courage to confront him, a voice behind you called out to Ignatz, who - reluctantly - looked away after his name was called out a second time. “Byleth wants to talk to you!” a student you didn’t know announced to Ignatz, and you bit your lip.

Just your luck.

“I will go after--” Ignatz tried to argue, dismissing the call, but you gave his arm a pat to get his attention, quietly releasing him to go.

“It’s not that important anyway,” you assured him. Like a liar. “We can talk about it some other time.”

“Are you sure?” Ignatz questioned, furrowing his brows. You could see his honest disappointment in not hearing the words he was desperate to receive from you in his eyes, but you just nodded. “Of course, we can always talk about it later!”

Reluctantly, he looked back to the student who was waiting to lead him back to Byleth before he sighed. “Okay, I’ll be quick. You can tell me after that!”

“S-Sure,” you mumbled, forcing a smile on your lips, and Ignatz reached out his hands, squeezing each arm comfortingly as he saw your awkwardness. Finally, he passed you by, not without having his eyes on you until he really couldn’t anymore, and off he went. Just like that, you had missed your chance to tell him, and with it, all the courage you had built just for this moment.

Just before he turned the corner, Ignatz stopped, and your eyes met for a split second. “I’ll see you at training later?” he asked, sounding worried. You gulped before nodding, and he went on his way with a tender smile playing on his lips. It was the first time you really didn’t want to go train since you came to the Monastery. Just sit out for the day, and maybe, forever, so you wouldn’t have to see him.

In the end, you never got around to tell him. Before you knew it, you were busy with your duties and studies. Even though Ignatz’s behavior continued, you didn’t have the time to give it your attention.

Then it happened. The event that would change everything in your life and everyone else’s.

And the tragedy ensued.

As you carried yourself through the forest, colliding with countless branches and thorns in your way, you felt so frustrated. It all could have been different, but now that you chose this path, it would be the one to die on. If only you had told him your feelings back then. If only you had made an effort to hold him back and fess up. Then nothing like this would have needed to happen.

Your hands were stained with the blood of your friends and comrades. The same ones you spent the best months of your life with. The ones that helped you get proficient enough to kill them and the ones that begged for mercy as you gave them a quick death. And yet, because you never told him to back off, you had never been able to make the same cut with Ignatz. He had been the beginning and the end, the reason you had survived for so long and the reason why you were now deserting from the fraction you swore your fealty to.

Goddess, you were pathetic.

Secretly, you had always known this. No matter how hard you tried to cover it up, you weren’t a genius or especially well-raised like the others at the Academy. You didn’t even have a title to defend, and you chose the side that seemed less risky when it was time to decide to whom you gave your loyalty. All the efforts you had put into your time at the Monastery had been the only thing you were good for - working hard and diligently. But you weren’t cut out for these heavy burdens.

And you couldn’t kill the only true friend you ever had when it was most crucial to do so.

Your whole life could have played out differently. You could have asked to be moved to another frontier in the countryside. Maybe you’d have died at some point, but at least you wouldn’t have to meet all these people you once loved and admired, seeing them die one after the other. Or maybe you should have just given up and let Ignatz do the deed, at least so you didn’t have to hear the words you always dreaded. He had utterly taken you aback with his confession, and you felt even more confused and appalled than back in school.

Hearing him confess his love, you simply couldn’t fight him anymore.

It was wrong. Wrong to run, both from your duties and Ignatz, but it had been the only thing you knew how to do. You never learned any better, never stood up for yourself in any choice you made. Following instructions and orders was all you could do, and even if you tried to do something on your own, you’d always end up needing to rely on others. Plagued by these thoughts, it only pained you more when you heard Ignatz shout behind you, realizing he still wasn’t going to let you go.

“I looked up to you! I needed you, and you needed me! And yet, you betrayed us! And yet, I only liked you more!”

Yes, you needed him. You needed someone to save you when you were lost. But right now, you needed anyone but him to take pity on you. Anyone but Ignatz to tell you what to do. You needed to decide on your own what you were going to do from now on!

A sudden push tore you out of your thoughts. You had come so far and almost reached the other end of the forest, but the saving light disappeared in front of your eyes, replaced by the dirty ground as you crashed down. Frustration, pain, fear - all of it caused tears to collect in your eyes. The weight of Ignatz’s body on top of you made you struggle against him, the last effort to escape the clingy obsession he had with you.

“I love you! I love you so much, don’t ever leave me again!” he yelled, his face contorted in pain as if he was the person going through a lot. What expression were you making? It satisfied you to see the disgust visible in your face reflecting in Ignatz’s eyes, hoping he’d get the hint. Twisting and turning your wrists, you hoped it would cause him to let go, but his grip only tightened the more you moved.

Out of sheer willpower, you managed to lift your pinned down right hand to his face, scratching and fighting against him. But alas, he kept you where he wanted, making you wonder where he managed to gain so much muscle strength to do it. He looked different now, but all you could see was the nice guy who first approached you at the training grounds, a weak but chipper young man. And yet, perhaps because of the war, or maybe you simply never noticed it before, the aura of madness was all that surrounded him.

It was just like back then. Ignatz was the one who took the decision about your life off you. It was a slow, painful realization, your screams being covered by the ones on the battlefield, and your tears disappeared in the dirt beneath you. You’d never have the last word in your life. Someone would always come to take it away from you. Maybe you were just not meant for it, but there was nothing more terrible you could imagine than not being the master of your own self.

Bad decisions led to this outcome. But how could you have known back then, when Ignatz was a wolf in sheep’s clothing?

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

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prompt: after their father died, the Nie bros were raised by Wen Ruohan, and are forced to survive in the backstabbing tangle of Nightless City politics.

Congratulations! You have also won the “I didn’t mean to write this much” fic prompt lottery, to the tune (again) of about 30k. I hope you enjoy!

Note: any fic warnings will be only on Ao3

Fire and Light (ao3) - part 1

“It’ll be all right,” Nie Mingjue murmured to Nie Huaisang, who was curled in his arms, shaking and terrified. The carriage rumbled and lurched around them, traveling down the long path to the Nightless City, where they would now be staying. “It’ll be all right. We’ll manage, somehow.”

He didn’t believe a word he said, of course. How could everything be all right?

Their father was dead. Murdered – it was rather unquestionable at this point. Wen Ruohan had broken his saber from a distance, driving him mad, and Nie Mingjue had known it was Wen Ruohan, but no one had believed him. No one had wanted to help, to intervene, to take action. Even at home, they’d just started resigning themselves to having to take care of Lao Nie as he died by inches when the murderer himself had shown up at the Unclean Realm to ‘help’ them in their moment of need.

Even half-mad, their father had tried to fight back.

Wen Ruohan had put him down like a rabid dog, wringing his neck and tossing him aside.

He’d then announced that Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang, now orphans, would be brought back to the Nightless City and taken into the Wen sect to be his wards, to be appropriately reeducated and brought up well. Brought up properly.

And as for the rest of the Nie sect –

At least they survived, Nie Mingjue reminded himself. Even if they have to work for the Wen sect, even if the sun banner flies in the Unclean Realm…at least they’re not dead.

At least Huaisang is with me.

He didn’t know what to expect when they arrived. He didn’t think it would be anything good.

Their rooms in the Nightless City were large, but cold.

They were wards of the great Sect Leader Wen, they were told when they arrived. That meant that they would be treated with respect, as if they were truly young masters of the Wen sect. They would get the best tutors, the best clothing, the best food and drink…they would be masters of the world, if only they bowed their heads and were obedient.

(If they were not obedient, they would be punished. The exact nature of that punishment remained – unspecified.)

“Are they going to hurt us?” Nie Huaisang whispered late at night, curled up in Nie Mingjue’s bed. He’d been hiding in his own, shaking and terrified, until Nie Mingjue had crept out to check on him, daring the unspecified punishment if it meant confirming his brother was all right. Obviously Nie Mingjue couldn’t leave him like that, so he’d brought him back. “Are they going to do to us what they did to a-Die?”

“No,” Nie Mingjue said, with moderate confidence. “They’re not. They’ve put in too much effort, made this all too public, to kill us now. Though I’m not ruling out the possibility that they might freeze us to death by accident. How is it so cold here? It’s south of Qinghe! The climate should be more temperate, not less! And have they never heard of tapestries?”

“Da-ge…”

“Don’t think I don’t feel those ice-blocks you call feet at my waist!”

Nie Huaisang giggled, as Nie Mingjue had intended. “You’re being silly, da-ge.”

Nie Mingjue pretended to huff angrily, tossing his head like a bull, and it made Nie Huaisang giggle again, the way it always had. “Fine, fine,” he grumbled. “I’ll keep you warm, I guess. It’s my duty as your da-ge, isn’t it?”

“What’s my duty?” Nie Huaisang wanted to know.

“To be my spoiled brat of a didi, of course,” Nie Mingjue said, the way he always did, but this time Nie Huaisang shook his head in denial.

“Now that we’re here,” he clarified, looking at Nie Mingjue with wide, trusting eyes. “What do you need me to do?”

Nie Mingjue knew, as Nie Huaisang did not, why their lives had been spared: it all lay in that word, reeducated. They would be indoctrinated into Wen sect beliefs, Wen sect customs, and by the time they were sent back to rule Qinghe as Wen Ruohan’s puppets, they would be more Wen than Nie. Even for him, it would be difficult to resist; for someone as young as Nie Huaisang, with his childish memories already slipping through his fingers like sand, it would be virtually impossible.

Asking him to resist would serve no purpose but to torment him when he inevitably failed.

“Be happy, didi,” he finally said, and pressed his lips to Nie Huaisang’s forehead. “Be happy as you can, as you always have. Don’t let them take away your smile.”

The next day, they were introduced to Wen Xu and Wen Chao, the actual young masters of Qishan, sons of Wen Ruohan. Wen Xu was a handful of years older than Nie Mingjue, eighteen to his nearly-fifteen, while Wen Chao was less than two years older than Nie Huaisang. Neither of them seemed happy to see them, scowls fixed firmly on their faces, sneers of disdain twisting their lips.

“Do you train the saber?” Wen Xu asked Nie Mingjue, who raised an eyebrow of ‘what do you think I train’ in return. “A boorish weapon, but then I suppose your ancestors were butchers.”

“I look forward to taking classes with you,” Nie Mingjue said, thinking to himself that one didn’t have to be especially clever to know the history the Nie sect proudly proclaimed at every turn. “They’re clearly very enriching.”

Wen Xu blinked at him and then turned his face away, his lips pressed together – whether in annoyance or, possibly, a sense of humor very deeply buried, it was difficult to tell.

“Father has expectations of you,” he finally said instead of responding to Nie Mingjue’s jibe, and there was no humor in his face now. “You’ll meet them, of course.”

Unspoken was that they couldn’t afford not to. Either of them.

Nie Mingjue lowered his head. His entire sect – all his cousins, aunts, uncles, whether surnamed Nie or not – were back in Qinghe, closely watched by Wen sect commanders. There was a sword to their throat, and therefore also to his.

He, too, could not afford to disappoint Wen Ruohan.

Wen Xu’s shoulders relaxed a little when he saw Nie Mingjue’s submission – he had clearly been charged with their care, and had just as clearly worried about his ability to fulfill his mission should they choose to rebel – and he nodded, more to himself than to them. “There’s classrooms, and training grounds,” he said. “I’ll show you where they are, as well as the dining room – there are set times for meals, and attendance is mandatory – and of course the necessaries. You don’t need more than that, at least to start.”

“Are there rules we should keep in mind?” Nie Mingjue asked, thinking about his brief visit to Gusu.

“Many,” Wen Xu said. His expression was stormy. “Some of them are even spoken aloud.”

“Da-ge! Da-ge!” Nie Huaisang ran up to him, lip quivering and eyes glistening wet with tears. It was a very sad, even heart-rending sight; it used to send Nie Mingjue into a frenzy to see him like that. But by now he’d learned better and he didn’t even blink, even though Wen Xu faltered, his sword twisting off in the middle of their spar as if he expected Nie Mingjue to lose focus at a key moment and injure himself. He wouldn’t, of course, and he instead used the moment to tap Wen Xu’s sword pointedly with Baxia, claiming the point. “Da-ge, I fell down again!”

“Excuse me,” Nie Mingjue said to Wen Xu, and turned to kneel before Nie Huaisang. “Did you, now?”

“Uh-huh!”

“And did you hurt yourself?”

“I did!” Nie Huaisang stuck his hand out. There was, maybe, a bruise on his wrist. If one squinted. It was probably just mud, actually. “It hurts awful, da-ge. Kiss it better?”

“That doesn’t really work,” Wen Chao scoffed, only a few steps behind Nie Huaisang.

“Shut up, it does,” Nie Huaisang shot back, temporarily forgetting that he was supposed to be pitiful, and turned back to Nie Mingjue. “Well, da-ge?”

Nie Mingjue nodded solemnly. “It’s my job,” he agreed, gathering Nie Huaisang up into his arms and pressing his lips to the ‘wound’, using the motion to infuse a little bit of spiritual energy as well. Not enough to actually make a difference, and certainly not enough to justify Nie Huaisang promptly declaring himself all better, but he liked to do it anyway – a little connection between them.

Wen Chao looked at them both in suspicion, his brow wrinkling. “That doesn’t really work,” he said again, but his voice was weaker this time, more questioning.

“It does too work,” Nie Huaisang announced. “Maybe if you’re really nice, I’ll let da-ge fix you up too next time you fall down.”

“I’m not going to fall down! I’m not a baby like you!”

“Everyone falls down sometimes. There’s nothing shameful about it,” Nie Mingjue said, and pointed to a bruise on his own face. “I myself fell down just a little while ago. Your brother helped. Several times.”

Wen Chao gaped at him, even as Nie Huaisang giggled.

“And Huaisang? You’re already very good at being a big baby and we all know it. You can stop practicing your skills at any time.”

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes at him, still laughing.

Nie Mingjue ruffled his hair and sent them both away, Nie Huaisang in the lead and Wen Chao following after, the latter shooting strange looks back at Nie Mingjue over his shoulder.

“You’re too soft on him,” Wen Xu said from behind him, even as Nie Mingjue rose to his feet. “He won’t thank you for it, later.”

Nie Mingjue shrugged. “Later is later,” he said philosophically. “Now is now. Can you show me that move you did earlier, kicking out my feet? It was very well done.”

Wen Xu stared at him. “The one – where I knocked you to the ground?”

“That’s the one. Do it again, just slower; it’ll be hard for me to pick it up, otherwise.”

“You’re just asking – no, never mind. Don’t you care that I beat you with it?”

“…no?” Nie Mingjue hazarded. Was this some sort of weird Qishan Wen hang-up? “How am I supposed to learn if I don’t lose?”

“In training, like everyone else.”

“That’d only teach me how to win when everything goes right,” Nie Mingjue pointed out. “I want to learn how to win even when I’m losing. Here, you show me that and I’ll show you the trick I did this morning, with the disarming.”

Wen Xu tensed up. “I don’t need your tricks.”

I don’t need your pity, he meant, and Nie Mingjue didn’t understand him at all. Wen Xu was at home, his little brother safe, his sect secure – why would Nie Mingjue pity him?

“Consider it a favor to me, then,” Nie Mingjue said, thinking back to how his uncle used to handle the especially prickly tempers in their sect, which was never short on them. “My grasp on the move isn’t that good – teaching it to someone else is the best way for me to improve my own understanding.”

Wen Xu hesitated for a while, thinking it over as if he thought there was some sort trap in the offer – what trap it might be, Nie Mingjue wasn’t sure – but then he nodded.

“All right then,” he said arrogantly. “I won’t even count it as a favor. Consider it a gift, since you’re so new here.”

They were there for about a month by the time they met some other people their age.

It was enough time to start to get used to the monotony of it all. They woke up in the morning and were free until breakfast – Nie Mingjue often got in some extra saber training, Nie Huaisang usually slept in – at which point they would meet in the cold, miserable dining hall with enough space to fit two dozen people but which only ever had the four of them, being served by voiceless servants.

They would remain there for enough time to burn a stick of incense at minimum, half a shichen at the maximum, and then they would proceed to their classes. There would be alternating classes and training, all based on some mystifying schedule that seemed to change every day but which clearly had some sort of order based on the boredom with which the Wen heirs regarded it, but always lunch and dinner in the same cold dining room, all alone, same as ever.

It was therefore a surprise when they came down for breakfast and found two other children there: a pale-faced girl about Wen Chao’s age or a little older and a skinny, shy-looking boy closer to Nie Huaisang’s. They were wearing Wen colors, but that didn’t mean anything – so were the rest of them. Neither Nie Mingjue nor Nie Huaisang had been allowed to bring any of their Nie robes to the Nightless City other than the ones they’d been wearing, and those had been splattered with blood. Nie Mingjue had carefully preserved them and still intended on finding a time to go try to see if he could salvage them in the wash, just as soon as he figured out where the laundry was.

His own new robes, in garish Wen colors that made him feel sick every time he looked down, itched and pulled on his body when he moved – they were badly sized. It seemed the seamstresses of the Nightless City hadn’t been expecting someone of his size and shape, although the array of robes he’d found in the closet made him realize, with gut-churning nausea, that he had been expected, that Wen Ruohan had prepared in advance to receive his new wards long before he had committed the act of murder to obtain them.

He hadn’t complained about the discomfort of the badly sized clothing – he hadn’t dared – but Wen Xu had been irritable about it for days now. Based on his rants, it seemed like he suspected that someone had made the robes ill-fitting on purpose to restrict Nie Mingjue’s full range of motion, a scheme designed to make Nie Mingjue humiliate Wen Xu in front of his father when the right size clothing finally did come in.

Nie Mingjue didn’t understand the calculations Wen Xu made, the paranoia involved – who would do something like that? why? what would even be the point? – and he didn’t especially want to, either.

He looked at the other two children. The girl stared down at her food, not making eye contact, but the boy stole glances at him – perhaps he and Nie Huaisang were as much as of a surprise to them as they were to him.

“Good morning,” he said to them. “My brother and I are surnamed Nie. What about you?”

Wen Xu snorted loudly, rolling his eyes. “They’re Wen,” he said scathingly. “Our cousins, from one of collateral branches of the family; the ones in the mountains. Father has taken the two of them on as his wards on account of their unfortunate circumstances and promising talent.”

“Unfortunate circumstances?” Nie Huaisang wondered aloud, and Nie Mingjue sighed to himself at the sheer rudeness of the direct question. “What’s so unfortunate?”

“Our p-parents are dead,” the boy told him quietly, stuttering a little.

“Oh,” Nie Huaisang said. “Ours too.”

There was a moment of silence, the entire room disbelieving, and then Nie Mingjue started laughing.

The sound of his laughter verged on the hysterical, hurting his throat, but he couldn’t seem to stop. Not because it was funny, of course, it wasn’t funny, would never be funny, it was still raw and burning and painful. It probably would be for the rest of his undoubtedly short life. But news travelled fast in the cultivation world, and while he couldn’t say for sure, Nie Mingjue suspected he’d be hard pressed to find someone who hadn’t heard about Wen Ruohan murdering the old Nie sect leader and taking his children by now.

Judging by the horrified expressions on the Wen cousins’ faces, they definitely had, and the sheer awkwardness that paralyzed the entire room just made the entire thing pathetically – well, laughable.

“Da-ge!” Nie Huaisang hissed, cheeks turning red, but he was smiling a little, too, mostly out of the infectiousness of Nie Mingjue’s laughter. “Don’t embarrass me!”

Nie Mingjue leaned over and ruffled his hair. “Extra etiquette lessons for a week.”

“No!”

“Someone has to teach you to think before you speak,” Nie Mingjue said, still chuckling involuntarily with the aftereffects of his bout of inappropriate humor. “Not every thought that passes through your brain has to reach your tongue, you know. Consider holding some back. Cultivate an aura of mystery.”

Nie Huaisang grumbled and went back to picking at his food.

“Aren’t you going to punish him?” the girl asked suddenly. She was staring straight at Nie Mingjue. “You didn’t embarrass him. He embarrassed you.”

“I’m his older brother,” Nie Mingjue said with a shrug. “If he’s not embarrassed by me and I’m not mortified by him, something’s clearly wrong –”

“Da-ge!” Nie Huaisang wailed.

Nie Mingjue put some extra meat into his bowl to apologize for teasing, and Nie Huaisang subsided, making faces at him as he did.

“You’re weird,” Wen Chao announced.

Nie Mingjue didn’t think so, but all the Wens averted their eyes away from him as if they were silently agreeing, so maybe he was.

It turned out that the girl’s name was Wen Qing and the boy, her brother, was called Wen Ning.

“Don’t any of you have courtesy names?” Nie Mingjue asked, a little desperately, and it turned out that the Wen sect had the strange tradition of referring to people by their given names until they were properly acknowledged. Acknowledged as what wasn’t specified, but they all seemed to have a sense of definitiveness about it, as if expecting it to happen at some distant date.

Qinghe had the exact opposite tradition – given names were for immediate family only, sometimes a secret kept just to the parents, and everyone else went straight to using the courtesy name almost immediately after the first month ceremony.

“But you haven’t done anything by then,” Wen Ning said, worrying his lip with his teeth. Nie Huaisang had been devastated to discover that despite being small and thin as a stick, Wen Ning was exactly three weeks older than him – he’d been looking forward to calling someone didi for once, and now he was off sulking about finding himself the youngest yet again. Nie Mingjue was sure he’d get over it quickly. “Nothing impressive, nothing worthy of acclaim…what can a baby possibly do to deserve getting a name so early?”

“They were born, they are alive,” Nie Mingjue said. “What more do they need to do? Isn’t that worthy of recognition all on its own?”

He got strange looks again.

It turned out that Wen Qing was the talented one of the pair – she was training to be a doctor, and all her teachers spoke very highly of her.

“That’s wonderful,” Nie Mingjue said, and meant it. “Medical skills are a rare pearl that ought to be treasured; with the world always in need, there can never be too many doctors. I look forward to being treated by you in the future.”

Wen Qing blinked owlishly at him. It appeared that she was unaccustomed to praise.

“If you ever need someone to practice on, let me know,” he tried – he knew pretty words were far from his forte, and actions were better anyway – but that didn’t seem to help.

“I’m not good at anything,” Wen Ning volunteered, wringing his hands. “Jiejie refused to leave me at home by myself, but I’m not - good. At things.”

“Everyone is good at something,” Nie Mingjue assured him, the words coming much easier this time – he knew this particular routine well, given Nie Huaisang’s routinely poor physical performance in a sect that placed such a premium on it. “Some have strengths that are lauded by society, others merely ones that give color to it, but both are valuable and worthy of praise. You will find your talent, given time.”

Wen Ning appeared rather dazed by the concept. “But – what if I look for my talent and it turns out I really am no good at anything?”

“Then you’ll be good at being cared for,” Nie Mingjue said firmly. “Someone has to keep us older siblings in business with something to do.”

“Oh,” Wen Ning said, hugging himself until his face turned red, and then he ran away.

Nie Mingjue watched him go, feeling a little helpless. He hadn’t meant at all to be cruel, or condescending, or whatever it was that had so affected Wen Ning. Why was it, he wondered, that whenever he addressed those surnamed Wen, everything he did seemed to end up having the wrong reaction?

#mdzs #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #wen xu #wen chao #wen qing #wen ning #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #this is the one that had a one-sentence summary #it was supposed to be short!#chuplayswithfire #fire and light

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ethanharli · 4 years

Text

Requested: On Wattpad

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Top Male Reader

Warning(s): Smutt, Nsfw, Bottom Steve, Top Reader, daddy kink, biting, slightly public sex, slight cum denial.

A/n- .. I'm rusty lol

____________________________________

"Should I say the pledge or?" I tilted my head in confusion, sipping away at my coffee while my gaze lazily trailed over Steve's body, seeing him in his Captain America uniform, but my eyes lingered a little longer on his figure then I'd ever be willing to admit. Steve's eyebrow twitched in annoyance that I so happily inflicted upon him, not caring for the stares of Nat' and Tony as they shared a knowing look. "You should learn some respect" He shot back, yet before I could make another comment he then stood tall and shrugged his shoulders, "Sorry, I forget men of your nature know nothing of respect" The grin that spread across his face had my nose twitching in irritation. My upper lip nearly curling up in a snarl, but I hid it well behind my coffee mug.

"At least 'men like me' have more of a backbone then good little soldiers like you" I practically growled out the words, anger slowly stinging through my veins like molten metal. But I couldn't stop the wolfish grin from spreading on my face at the sight of him, his fists clenched at his sides, his teeth gritting together in obvious irritation and if this were a cartoon I'd think there'd be fume coming from his ears. Steve about came running at me until Nat rested her hand on his shoulder, Tony making sure to stand between us like some sort of barrier. "What do you get out of being an ass?" Steve shot back, glaring at me through narrowed eyes that held no affect against me. So pushing myself off of the counter I sent another smirk his way, but it felt weaker than before, "Language Cap'."

I could feel his eyes bore into my back as I walked away, not knowing why I even bothered to push the argument, hell I don't even know why I started one in the first place, but pushing those thoughts away I let a different one flood through my mind.

He looks good in that suit.

----

It's been a couple of hours after that, and I decided to sit on the roof to take in the cold breeze that flicked through the air, sending a deep chill to my bones that I much appreciated. However everything looked magical at this time of night, the sky coated in a pallet of blues and purples, the stars shinning as bright as they could against the light of the city below, which bustled with life and at some point I could've sworn I saw flashes of blue and red swinging about. Barley hearing the door open behind me, I continued to stare towards the city, gently tapping my heal against the wall of the tower as I let out a drawn out sigh of content. "It's nice out here" The sudden voice didn't faze me, only nodding in return while Steve stood besides me, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

"What do you want? You never come around me of your own violation" I grumbled out, feeling a twinge of regret right after I said it. I've never been much of a people person, but when it comes to Steve I don't know- I just don't know how to make conversation with him, doesn't matter how badly I want to, I always mess it up one way or another. "You know what, nevermind-! I came out here to be civil and have an actual conversation with you but you obviously don't know what 'civil' is" He spat out the word, leaving me with a vile taste in my mouth as I stood from my spot and turned towards him, glaring at him with narrowed eyes.

"Civil? Civil?! Oh that's fucking rich! The great Captain America wants to lecture me on being civil!" I shouted, my hands shooting up in exasperation, anger slowly starting to bubble up within me as I took a step towards him, forcing him to take a step back.

"Maybe I wouldn't have to if you'd stop acting like a street thug!" He retorted, holding my vicious glare with his own, taking another step back when I took another step forward.

"Yeah well this 'street thug' didn't even get a fucking thank you for saving your life! Is it so fucking hard for someone as 'great' and 'amazing' as you," My words came out dangerously low, trapping the slightly shorter man against the metal door, my hand slamming down besides his head as I spat out the words. "To tell someone 'like me' a simple thank you? I got hospitalized and in the end the only ones that thanked me were the one's I didn't even save."

I didn't even notice the way his face heated up from the close proximity, being to wrapped up in my own bubble that I just couldn't pay attention. "Is it really that impossible for you to tell me something so simple just because of my profession?!" I couldn't even feel the way his hands gripped at my coat, "Cause if that's the case then fine! I'm so fucking sorry for caring-!" My words were cut short when I was suddenly yanked forwards, feeling a pair of soft lips press against my own in a desperate motion that left me breathless. My hands immediately found their way to his hips, pressing his back firmly against the metal door as his hands traveled up into my hair, his fingers tangling into the [H/c] strands while mine slowly slipped under the hem of his shirt, feeling his bare skin against my fingertips.

"You talk to much" He mumbled out softly, pulling me closer against him until our bodies were completely connected, and I couldn't tare my gaze away from those beautiful blue eyes that I didn't even know how much I adored until now. "You're insufferable" I growled out playfully, not truly meaning the words but from the smile that tugged at his lips I could tell he knew that. I was pleasantly surprised when he lifted his leg up to hook around my hip, and knowing his intention I happily placed my hands under his thighs and hoisted him up, his legs instantly wrapping around my hips as he quickly yanked off his shirt, as I did the same. Letting my hands wander up his toned body while my leg helped keep him propped up against the door.

My heart practically hammered in my chest, and I could only hope he felt the same when I slowly dragged my tongue up from the base of his neck to his ear, taking his earlobe between my teeth to give it a small tug, feeling a light sting in my lower abdomen when I heard a choked gasp come from his parted lips, along with a few heavy pants that brought a wolfish grin to my face. "Damn, we barley even started and you're already panting like a bitch in heat" I purred, moving a hand down to run over his growing erection, "Ah!" I couldn't help but lick my upper lip in a slow motion, feeling my excitement grow from all the cute reactions he makes. Letting out a low chuckle I pressed my tongue against his shoulder, opening my mouth to leave a harsh bite, "F-Fuck!" He cursed, panting heavily as I press my nose to the base of his neck, biting down there as well while my thumbs graze over his nipples.

"D-Daddy.." I froze at the name, surprise evident on both our faces but a deep red blush manages to crawl up his neck and cheeks while a long smirk tugged at my lips. "I-Im so sorry-" I quickly shut him up by capturing his lips with my own, pressing my hips against his own to create some sort of friction as my thumbs begin to roll over his nipples, toying with them almost agonizingly slow. Drawing my tongue over his bottom lip I felt him moan into the kiss as I slipped my tongue inside, our tongues brushing together in heated desperation until I pulled back for air, a string of saliva connected to our lips as a deep chuckle reverberated throughout my chest, bringing my lips to his ear, my hands slowly working at his pants. "C'mon baby boy, say it again."

"Daddy.." He moaned out breathlessly as I lifted him up further to pull down his pants and boxers, just enough to make it easy as I wrapped my hand around his cock, rubbing my thumb over his swollen tip, "D-Daddy!" My tongue darted over my upper lip once more as he pressed his forehead against my own, his arms gripping onto my shoulders tightly as I moved my hand at a faster pace, loving the way his mouth parted with sharp breaths that I could see in the chilly air that couldn't even nip at our skin because of the heat between us. "Fuck!" Steve shuddered in my arms when I suddenly pressed my thumb against his tip, holding back his orgasm as he looked at me with pleading eye's, his sweaty blonde hair sticking to his face as he let out a low whimper, "P-Please.. Please let me cum."

"Not yet baby, now suck" My voice was steady and commanding as I brought my fingers to his lips, feeling my own erection twitch uncomfortably in my pants when he happily took three fingers into his mouth. The warmth of his mouth forced a drawn out groan from my lips, wondering if next time he'd take my cock instead. But forcing the thoughts down I pressed the pad of my middle finger against his tongue, watching as he stuck his tongue out his mouth, drool slowly dripping down it in a motion that nearly had me hypnotized until I looked into his eyes, using my other hand to slowly cup his cheek, "This'll feel uncomfortable at first, okay? If you want me to stop just tell me alright?" And with a swift nod from him I brought him back into a kiss to distract him from my fingers.

My middle finger slowly pushed inside him, but I made sure to keep him distracted with rough kisses and harsh love bites that had him whimpering in my grasp, and slowly I added another digit. A low hiss slipped past his parted lips, causing me to freeze for a moment until he gave me a reassuring nod, but even then I made sure to take it slow, moving my fingers in a scissoring motion that left him breathless. "Daddy-" He whimpered out, pressing his hips down onto my fingers after a few moments, "Daddy please.. Please fuck me, I need it.." He groaned out, looking up into my eyes with a hazy gaze that made me weak.

"Who knew you were good at begging" I mocked lightly, but my own erection made itself known from the tightness of my pants, so hoisting him up some more I quickly pulled them down, letting my cock spring free as I rested one hand on the top of the door frame, making sure he was secure between the door and I, "You ready?" I asked, watching as he gave a quick nod. So in a slow motion I pressed my cock against his entrance and slowly pushed it in, instantly moving my hand to hook under his thigh to stable him, "F-Fuck- Daddy!" He groaned out, panting heavily and it took everything in me not to just start pounding into him, simply relishing in the feeling of his tight walls around me until he got adjusted.

A few moment's passed until he finally gave me the go ahead, so I slowly began to thrust into him, both of us letting out pleasured groans as I began to quick up speed, "Nng! D-Daddy! F-Faster, please" Steve begged in a low whimper, his nails digging into my back as I hooked both hands both hands under his knees, gaining better access as I pounded into him, "Daddy!!" He shouted as a groan slipped past my lips, feeling my core begin to tighten as I listen to his moans and whimpers. "Fuck baby, you're so fucking tight" I let out a small hiss from the way his walls wrapped around me drawing me closer to my orgasm as he dragged his nails down my back, and I knew they'd leave marks.

"P-Please! Please let me cum- Please!" He whimpered desperately, so pulling him into a quick kiss I nodded my head, "Go ahead baby, cum for daddy" I grinned watching as he slowly unraveled, his cum coating both our lower abdomens and soon after I caught my own relief, releasing my cum deep inside him, "Ah!" He let out a surprised moan, slightly trembling in my arms. So carefully pulling out of him and setting him down, I made sure to grab my shirt and clean him up, wiping away any left over cum.

But I couldn't stop the small that seemed to spread on my face, my heart warming softly in my chest as I looked over his peaceful yet tired expression. "What are you doing..?" He asked groggily, looking up at me with a hazy gaze.

"Cleaning you up idiot, I'm not a complete asshole, now lets get you to bed."

#marvel #marvel avengers #steve rogers #captian america #x seme male reader #x male reader #x dom male reader #steve x seme male reader #steve rogers x seme male reader #captian america x seme male reader #steve x male reader #steve rogers x male reader #captian america x male reader #steve x dom male reader #steve rogers x dom male reader #captian america x dom male reader

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poisonousroxstar · 3 years

Text

Imagine:

Wally with a cheerful trainer s/o, who's dying from an illness

Trigger warning: dying reader, dead reader. Illness. Angst. Toxicly positive reader? Possible grammar mistakes.

Wally first met you on the day he was going to get his very first pokemon! To his surprise, you were here for the same thing! Norman was nice enough to lend you both a spare Pokémon and balls for you two!

He remembers how nerve-wracking but thrilling it was catching his ralts. When he did, you praised him! And gosh, he couldn't help but blush at your comment.

He invited you over to his parents house, and you both became quickly familiar with one another; becoming friends (and also rivals) very quickly!

Since both of your pokemon were relatively weak, the two of you decided to train together.

Eventually, you were confident that your Pokémon was ready to take on the first gym! Wally wasn't nearly as confident though, thus you two parted ways.

You told Wally you'd see him around! Giving him a gleeful smile that made his heart skip a beat. It appeared he had a small crush..

You guys wouldn't meet again until the second gym. Wally had moved to come stay with his uncle, and by then he had gotten a little stronger! When he saw you, Wally couldn't help but get a little giddy and blush ever so slightly.

After your guys' battle, his uncle invited you over to his home. He noticed how his nephew was behaving, and thought it might be good to bring over his crush!

You cheerfully accepted! And even wanted to race Wally there! Although, that didn't work out as his condition rendered running a bit.... Problematic. Soo, instead of that, you trailed alongside him and chatted about your adventures and experiences so far.

You sort of took a break on your journey to spend time with the lime haired boy. And he couldn't have been more thrilled!

At first, you two trained together. Being on break didn't mean you couldn't get some experience in!

Eventually, you two started doing everything together. Hanging out and enjoying the beautiful area, especially the flowers. Fooling around, even if Wally sometimes protested against your ideas. And lazing together during uneventful days.

It was on one of those days you asked about his condition, and what it was that forced him to move to his uncles.

Wally paused for a moment, before replying with an answer. He thought that by becoming a trainer, he could become stronger, both as a person and with his illness.

His answer made you admire him, and you felt like you owed him something in return. So, with your cheerful tone that made beautiflies flutter in his tummy, you said:

"well... I'm technically dying!"

Wally gave you a shocked expression, and almost thought you were joking because of your tone.

But it wasn't a joke, unfortunately. You told him you had an illness that was slowly killing. You became a trainer as a way to see the entire region before your death, and take on the gyms in an attempt to become the champion of hoenn!

Wally stayed with a shocked expression "s/o... I'm so sorry..". You hushed him, saying that you weren't afraid of it, or sad. Maybe you were a long time ago but now? You were fine!

To lighten the mood, you reassured him that everything was ok. Wally was awed at how much you accepted your fate. He understood, since he had his own issues as well, but to know you were dying and still be happy? He doesn't think even he could be as jolly.

You brightened up the somber atmosphere with optimism, stating that you were here, and ready to make the most out of everything!

Wally couldn't help his racing heart when you smiled. Your cheerfulness and determination made him feel so warm and fuzzy inside. It was more then obvious he had a massive crush on you, and in a way, you returned those feelings as well.

Once that was clear cut, you decided to ask him out! Gosh, he was a blushing mess when you did, stuttering over his words and behaving more meek then normal. But... He accepted, a small smile on his lips.

The date was simple, but very cute. You two were strolling together around both Verdanturf town and Mauville city. The old couple of the daycare even let you both help tend with some of the pokemon. Although Wally was a bit hesitant, the pokemon cooed to his gentleness and calm nature. It was truly a precious moment!

It didn't take much time for you two to become a thing! Although yous never said it directly, it was clear as day you two were helplessly in love with each other.

It was also around this time you and Wally decided to resume your pokemon journey. Wally suggested you two stick together for the remainder of it, and you found the idea cute, so you two did!

But the plan didn't last too long.. halfway through your two's adventure, you began to cough. You often didn't think much of it, since it was something that happened a lot for you. Given your conditions and... everything.

But once you looked down at your hand, you noticed it was stained with.... Blood? You had coughed out blood, some of it coming out in small clumps.

This hadn't happened before, and you were actually... Very scared. Perhaps because it reminded you of your morality.. or because of Wally.

You couldn't let him see you like this. What would happen? How would he react? The last thing you wanted was to suspend his own adventure just because of you.

Wally noticed how quiet you got after your coughing fit, and asked if something was wrong. You hid away your bloody hand and hastily wiped any remaining traces of blood on your mouth, turning to him with your smile that always tug on his heartstrings "Yep! I'm fine! Just..."

You had to find an excuse. A way so Wally wouldn't suspect something. So, in a slightly sudden voice, you told Wally it was time to part ways.

At first, he interpreted it as you breaking up with him, which left him confused and very hurt; but when you explained it was just because you wanted to get the next gym badge, he sighed in relief you weren't ending the relationship. Although he was still puzzled by why you wanted to go on your own and a part of him didn't want you to leave. Something didn't feel right.

But you reassured him you'd see him again! And told him you two could still keep in contact through the phone! Although he still felt like something was... off... Wally just chopped it up to him being paranoid, and maybe even a little bit possessive? He wasn't sure, relationships were such a new concept to him.

With that and a peck on the cheek, you took off! And Wally waved you goodbye.

Wally then decided, he needed to get stronger! He hoped that the next time you two saw each other, you'd be impressed with how much he improved as a trainer and as a person, who wasn't bound to his illness.

Illness.. that's right, you were also sick, but much worse. Honestly, you were so good at hiding and quickly recovering from the symptoms, Wally almost forgot you were dying..

His chest ached at the thought of you dying. One of his fears was you dying before he could even talk with you again. His heart held so much love for you, and Wally wished that somehow he could take away your pain...

But your numbered days served as motivation. He wanted to get stronger, for you. He wanted to show you how far he came, and how far you've come!

Wally believed in you as well. He found you admirable for your optimism. He thought you could do anything! And that, even if you were dying, you'd survive, and make it.

Wishful thinking, I suppose.

But as Wally got stronger, you only grew weaker. The doctors you had visited said your condition had suddenly worsen out of the blue.

They said, at best, they could give you a few extra weeks of life. Maybe a month or 3, but you'd be heavily restricted. At that point, you'd be stuck to a hospital bed; your journey finishing right then and there.

So, you went against what they said. You held onto hope that, at the very least, you'd be able to collect all the gym badges.

Your calls with Wally became a bit more frequent, which he didn't reject to. Actually, he was really, really happy to hear you! Sometimes he'd get scared that something awful happened to you, so hearing your voice helped calm him.

You avoided telling him the truth though, instead asking about him, his Pokemon, and how far he is. Wally answered every question you had, becoming especially bright regarding his trainer status. You could hear the light and excitement irradiating from his voice, which made you smile.

When he asked about yours, you put on a cheery voice as you often did. Telling him everything was grand! You'd gotten a lot stronger, and had managed to collect another gym badge!

He congratulated you, saying how awesome you were! He asked if, when you two met again, you'd be willing to battle him.

You paused for a moment, not sure how to reply. You didn't want him to see you, not in your slowly deteriorating state. But at the same time you missed him. You wanted to see him again, physically. So, with an unheard reluctance, you agreed to the brawl!

Wally was concerned. You had never sounded so meek before. Never sounded so resistant to see him. He wondered if he did something wrong? If he displeased you someway. He tried not to let it get to his head, but the thought did irk him.

..when Wally finally saw you, he noticed how different you looked. Wally wasn't oblivious, but he didn't know how to bring it up. So, for the time being, you guys caught up! You told Wally how far you've gotten so far, and showed off your collection of badges! You also showed him your Pokemon, how strong they had gotten.

But Wally kept quiet, or replied only in short sentences. You notice his concern expression intensify upon bringing your Pokemon out. Their faces showed hints of sadness.

Finally, Wally asked if you were ok. Your quick reply more or less confirmed you weren't, despite your response portraying the contrary.

He took your hand into his and told you softly that, it's ok if you don't want to tell him. He just wants to make sure you're fine. His skin was so soft you had just noticed, and his delicate hold brought you comfort.

So, with hesitance, you finally told him what was happening. You told him how your illness had advanced, how limited your time was, what they adviced and why you went against it.

Wally looked at you with shock and sadness, but he tried not to overreact. Instead, he held you.

You brushed off his concern, and challenged him to a battle! Wally was stunned by how quickly you tried shifting the topic, and he declined at first. But you reminded him of the ole' trainer rule:

If two trainers lock eyes with one another, it is mandatory they begin a battle!

You wanted to distract yourself and him. You didn't want your illness to be a burden. At the very least you wanted to enjoy the time you had with him instead of focusing solely on you.

When the battle concluded, as if on cue, you coughed out. Wally could tell you were in pain, even if you tried playing it off as if you weren't. He quickly came to you, asking what was wrong and if he needed to call the hospital!

You weakly say it's fine, but Wally rebuked in an attempt to bring you back to reality. It was obvious you weren't 'fine', and he tried to convince you to go see a doctor; at the very least they could offer you some sort of pain reliever!

What was only worry for your well-being evolved into an argument. Even if you put on a happy face and chipper persona, you were suppressing a lot of emotions, and Wally was the unfortunate 'pin to the balloon'.

You let everything pour out, such poisonous words being thrown at him. Wally was stunned into silence by you, only able to endure your verbal assault. Your toxicity would of likely continued if another coughing fit hadn't taken over.

But this time, you weren't able to hide the pain. Your coughs rapidly grew worse, and the ache became too much to the point where your legs buckled in.

Wally panicked when he saw you dropping, but was able to keep calm enough to call the ambulance. He tried to help you as much as he could, but he didn't know what to do. Even you didn't.

When help finally arrived you had completely knocked out, a sickening pool of dark crimson pouring from your mouth that had convinced Wally for a moment that you were gone.

You were rushed to the nearest hospital. Wally wanted to come along with you, but the doctors refused and didn't take the precious time to hear his pleas.

..for the next few days, all Wally could think about was you. His journey had reached another stop, and he tried to stay at the hospital for as long as he could.

The only people he seemed to interact with was his gardivour, his uncle, and his parents. Other then that he had turned completely mute.

He felt guilty, as if this was his fault. The last thing you'd remember if you didn't make it was the two of you getting into an argument. Maybe if he hadn't been so pushy, you wouldn't of had a fit and be here.

He knew it was dumb to think like that, but he couldn't help it.

Sometimes, he'd visit your Pokemon who had been transported to a daycare in the hospital. They seemed just as scared as Wally was, but he knew fearing wouldn't do anything; it wasn't what you wanted either.

So, he tried to be positive. He thought you'd be able to pull through. You were one of the strongest people he knew!

You couldn't die yet, not when you hadn't even completed the gym challenges!

His optimism brought hope to your Pokemon, and to him as well! But Wally was split if he truly believed in what he just preached.

And every day that passed. Every hour you remained in your bed, motionless minus your chest pumping up and down from a machine you were hooked up with.

That hope grew dimmer and dimmer.

Sometimes he'd talk to you, gently rubbing your hand. Your guardian(s) allowed him to be near you, which he couldn't be more thankful for.

He'd tell you about his day, how boring the hospital was. He wondered if you could hear him? He hoped you could.

Wally missed you. He missed you so, so much. He missed seeing you walking around, he missed hearing your voice; he just wanted you.

Wally tried to pull himself together. He didn't want to seem weak in front of you, not when you needed the utmost attention right now. But he couldn't control himself for long.

Wally's gentle whimpers grew into uncontrollable crying. He was pleading to you, pleading to anyone, begging anyone to just---not take you away.

"P-please, S/O... I can't lose you. I...I love you!"

He wanted his words to reach you somehow, so that maybe... Maybe you would wake up.

But no amount of love laced words could pull you from your eternal slumber.

Your heart monitor began dropping. The beating of the machine inducing an intense anxiety into Wally. He cried out for help, and the doctors and nurses flooded the room like water.

Wally was pushed outside the room and force to watch as the medical team desperately tried to revive you. He felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach when every attempt resulted in nothing. No response, nothing.

The doctor came up to Wally, a sad expression on his face. The world went silent. He was muttering out words, lips moving, but Wally couldn't hear anything.

He didn't need to. He knew.

And he just breaks..

He's crying, perhaps even hyperventilating as the doctors attempted to calm him down. Wally knew you were gone. He thought he would be prepared for it, but the impact was too much for him to handle.

He cries, he cries a lot.

And then your funeral comes, but there aren't any tears. Not because he isn't sad, but because he can't squeeze anymore out. He just looks at your coffin in melancholy.

For awhile, Wally doesn't leave his house. When he returned to his parents, he is was nearly mute, and only stayed inside. All that progress had regressed, and he was back to his old self.

Wally wanted to care for your Pokemon himself, but he just wasn't in a good place. He couldn't even care for his own Pokemon, but they understood; your death affected them as well.

With some outside help from his family and his/your Pokemon, Wally slowly got better. Slow, but better.

It was painful for him, but he had to accept keeping you in memory while moving on.

He likes to think you'd want him to go forward, complete his journey. And he came up with a motivator; he couldn't be doing it for himself now, but for the both of you.

He'd do this. For you, and for himself.

He'll get stronger. He'll get braver. Because that's what you may of wanted from him.

Wally would never love someone as much as he did you. You mean the world to him. If only you two had more time together.

Wally will always miss you. The pain will lessen, perhaps even some of his feelings. But his love for you will mostly remain intact.

Wally would visit your grave frequently. But as time went on, the visits became less frequent. Still, he always brought your favourite gifts and most times your Pokemon came along with him.

He'll never forget you. Never.

This lovely artist is the person, I believe, made the drawing! I didn't ask for permission however, so if they ask me to remove the art, I shall!

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wajjs · 3 years

Note

prompt part: the taliajaybru continuation of your bb dami fic? where everyone is still soft and nothing hurts (too much) and bruce catches up on how to be with the people he loves?

omegaverse, omega!jay (ft. male breastfeeding - a very short scene at the very beginning)

continuation of this fic

In my darkness I search for you

Breeze comes in through the window that had been closed.

Breeze comes in, makes the curtains flutter, and Jason doesn't look up from where Dami's head is nestled in his arms, face pressed to his chest. He doesn't look up as he strokes the thin hairs on the back of the head, as he smiles down at the expression of pure concentration Damian has while staying latched onto his nipple.

Jason doesn't look up and he doesn't need to, because he knows who is standing in front of him, tense and agitated and—he wonders what kind of thoughts are plaguing that head. What kind of picture does he paint, and how is it being interpreted?

Damian's tiny hands flex on Jason's chest and it makes him laugh.

He also thinks he can hear a single broken sob coming from the pillar of kevlar, weapons and living, breathing anguish.

When he goes back to the manor, he's carrying a small travel bag with diapers, a few onesies, towels, and Damian's favorite toys. It's clear he's not here for a prolonged stay. He also doesn't come back to the family house through the cave in the middle of the night, like a ghost from days past that descends upon everyone present like a curse. Instead, he walks up the steps to the front door and bounces his baby in his arms. And he waits.

Not for long, though. Because there it is Alfred, looking like he always does and if Jason notices new wrinkles, he doesn't say a thing. He smiles, a small, shy thing, and shifts Damian to just one arm, propping him up on his side.

"Hey there, Alfie," Jason says. If there's a pang of nostalgia clanging in between his ribs, he stays quiet about it.

Alfred's eyes are wide open. This is the most caught he's ever looked.

"Master Jason," he gasps, hand shaking around the doorknob. The lack of steadiness becomes even more obvious when the older man's eyes drift until they are focused on the baby.

Jason understands the surprise. But also, it's getting cold and Damian is still getting better from that trip to—

"I apologize," Alfred quickly recomposes himself, stands to the side as he opens the door as far as it goes, "please, master Jason, please come in."

He smiles and steps inside. Familiarity rushes through him. The house seems stuck in time, as always, and he… he's changed so much.

Bruce can't stop looking at him. The man is pale and silent and he looks at Jason and his baby like they are both going to vanish the minute he blinks. Jason doesn't reassure him that this isn't a half-crazed delusion, this isn't a vision, he's here, he's real. No, he makes no attempt at comforting him. Jason knows more than well it would fall upon stubborn ears.

Alfred is the one sitting by his side and smiling as he watches with an avid eye while Damian plays in his baby chair. Well, not his, but the one that's never left the manor, much like everything else that ever entered here. Still sturdy as ever, and Jason sits next to his child and he kisses the soft hairs.

Sometimes he can't believe this is his reality.

"How," Bruce finally asks.

Even with the fireplace lit up, the room drops to sub-zero temperatures.

"I think you're well acquainted with how babies are made, B."

That's not it, though. The three adults present know.

"How did you come back?"

At least they are talking, Jason thinks, and Bruce has yet to force him into completing one medical scan after the other. It's only a matter of time for that, though. Everyone is well aware.

At the end of the day, well into the night, he's sitting by the small table in the kitchen, Damian dozing off in his arms, waiting for the kettle to start whistling. It's late, now. Late enough for Batman to be expected to be seen prowling the city, and yet the man under the cape is here, by Jason's side. Closer, so much closer than before.

"He looks like Talia," Bruce says and the air he exhales as he speaks brushes Jason's cheek.

"I know," with a rogue smile, he turns towards the other, shifts his hold so his intentions are clear. "Do you want to hold him?"

In typical Bruce fashion, the answer he gets is: "Stay."

And there are so many things left to be said. So many silenced truths waiting round the corner for their best moment to strike. Speeches Jason has rehearsed, over and over, in front of a mirror—fueled by fear and pain and anger and… and grief. Things he's thought about in the middle of training around the world with Talia's guidance.

Things that moved to the very back of his priorities when he discovered that he was—

And so he resigns himself to be, for once, the bigger person.

"I'll stay for the night."

Talia's a beauty that escapes definition, elegantly sprawled on the couch, and Jason feels warmth when he sees her the moment he crosses the door. It's as much his instincts telling him that's my alpha as it is him loving her beyond all that. There's a soft noise forming deep within his chest that has Damian reacting as well, and she laughs with such a wonderful melody.

"We missed you," he says as Damian tries to reach out, both arms extended towards her.

"I'm happy to see you doing much better," Talia stands and picks the baby in her arms. He belongs there as much as he belongs in Jason's hold. "I apologize I couldn't help when you needed me."

"Nonsense," Jason huffs a little, his cheeks getting warm, "you help us all the time. We wouldn't—"

She shushes him with a soft kiss on his lips. It makes Jason's blush grow darker, stirs up half asleep needs and wants and…

He exhales shakily, slumping against the nearest wall and letting the bag fall to the floor. Talia's eyes shine with a new light, one he's seen quite a few times before. They both know what this means.

"I shouldn't," he swallows, runs his hand over his forehead to push his hair out of his face, "I shouldn't go through one so soon, right?"

"You've been with him," her words are not reprimanding. They never are, when she gets it so well, "you've been around him more and more, lately. There are even rumors going around in high society circles. Gossip."

"But," looking at her face, taking in her expression, he shakes again, bites his fist because he needs a distraction. It's not happening just yet, but it's coming. The one thing he did not miss at all. "That… that couldn't be it…"

Talia smiles. She steps closer to him so she can kiss him again. "You've always loved him, dearest."

Jason's knees get a little weaker. He tries not to cry.

"I love you," he says. Desperation adds weight to his voice.

"I know you do," cradling Damian in her arms, she brushes his cheek with her lips, feels his exhale close to her ear, "and I love you, too, dearest."

What Talia doesn't have to say out loud, because he gets it, is: worry not. I'll find a solution.

The ridiculous thought of he's too big for this room keeps repeating itself, like a blinking neon billboard, inside Jason's head. Over and over, till words lose meaning and—

His breath hitches high in his throat and Bruce, god, Bruce Bruce Bruce, he gives him a twitch of his lips that passes for reassurance, an almost smile that Jason used to live for. He's different now, he's grown, he's, he… Talia is right, and Jason looks for her, sees her sitting by the edge of the bed, right next to him. He feels exposed, vulnerable in ways he hates, but he's safe. He's the safest he can be, here, with them paying attention to him.

"Jason," Bruce's voice is soft yet commanding and their eyes meet again. "I can leave if you—"

"No," he says too quickly, reaching out, sitting up on the bed so he can hold onto the other's clothes, "no, don't."

"Beloved," Talia scolds Bruce from behind Jason's shoulders. She's the one pushing him back down onto the mattress, the one massaging away the lines of tension taking over. "Don't tease him like this. Surely you know he's been waiting for you all this time."

Forced into view, being made to be seen, Jason gulps, closes his eyes so he doesn't get to see whatever expression is forming on Bruce's face. He's. He's embarrassed but there is warmth simmering low and insistent in his gut, warmth that gets stronger the more he's made to wait. All the scents, the smell of alpha, they are all making him dizzy, making him want. And he's achingly empty. Why aren't they…?

"I'm sorry, Jason," Bruce whispers and Jason gasps, there's the dip in the mattress, the line of heat of a body broad and big like his own laying on top of him.

Then, then there are the touches. The softest drag of fingertips over his cheek, the line of his jaw, the dip of his collarbones.

"I didn't mean to make you wait so long."

When he blinks and looks at them, at Talia, at Bruce, he's both lost and found. He needs. Legs falling open in the most natural of invitations, he bares his neck, presents himself, shivers and swallows back breathless gasps that betray just how much he craves. Like this, in the cradle of their embrace, like this Jason doesn't have to think of his fears, his anger, the wounds that never heal.

With Bruce on top of him, shedding their clothes, with Talia's fingers in his hair, with all this thorough attention, Jason doesn't have to think about all that he's lost or given up.

Like this, for this moment, he can pretend.

In the peak of winter, bundled up in worn out sweaters, cheeks red and an easy smile on his face, Jason sits on a cushion on the floor, watching as Damian plays next to him. He's giggling, babbling, round and soft and so happy, it's like there are actual stars in his eyes. The two of them paint the most incredible and magical of pictures. An allegory of second chances and new beginnings, of love, of dedication. Of loyalty.

Talia stands by the door, she's always looking, always from a certain distance, like someone who's always protecting. And there is much to protect, here. Much to keep safe.

Bruce stops by her side and his eyes follow the line of her sight. The smile that he gives, it's the most natural smile he's shown in years.

"You saved him," Bruce speaks barely above a whisper.

"Beloved," Talia sighs, leans into his side like all three of them are indeed normal people, like this arrangement won't bring problems, like they get to have a chance at a normal life, "I didn't do anything. He actually saved all three of us."

#jaytalia #brujay #taliajaybru #talia al ghul #jason todd #bruce wayne #omega jason todd #blob writes #blob's prompt party #the very last one!#setsailslash

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ddalgi-yong · 3 years

Text

STARCROSSED NO. 1 || J.JK

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: angst, fluff-ish

word count: 4,6k

synopsis: finding out that you were a half god and the half sister of the one and only aphrodite, you have to avoid getting killed, be the reason why the emotion love disappears from the world... and avoid jeon jungkook and try not to fall in love with him.

part of the holiday treats event <3

if you want to be tagged to the series, please send me an ask ! series masterlist link will be added later !

DEAR VIO;

its me, your secret santa ! i really hope that you like the first part of my series ! i thought this was getting too long so i decided to cut it and make a series out of it ! making this a series, by the way, was the surprise i was talking about lol i didnt manage to interact with you a lot during the event as sometimes you didn’t see my asks and sometimes, i just disappeared. i’m sorry about that. maybe we could do better and text each other sometimes? you seem really sweet and nice and i really need someone who might get me back to stan bts properly :D anyways, i really hope you enjoyed this! merry early christmas, dear ! i hope you will have amazing days during this tough time !

xx nur

You hated him.

You didn’t even know why you hated him, but most important was that you hated him.

Who?

Jeon Jungkook.

His stupidly perfect face, his perfect and beautiful smile; you had so many things that people loved about him.

But at least you knew that you hated him, that was the most important part.

Until that one day you looked him straight into his eyes, suddenly felt this huge anger and you only wanted to kill him.

“You fucking bitch, I should have done this a long time ago”, he growled as he got closer to you. “I should have killed you before it was too late. But now… no one will save you from me.” His laugh was soft and sweet despite his angered tone and you had no idea why he spoke to you like this.

“What the hell did I do to you?”, you asked him, your voice was shaky as you really started to fear him. You hated him, yet you were scared of him in this one moment.

“You exist, that’s enough”, he said and then he was gone. You didn’t know what happened as Jungkook suddenly disappeared from in front of you; you didn’t even know where he was. Your body started shaking and you just sat down on the grass to breathe properly.

You had no idea what was going on or where Jungkook had disappeared to.

“Y/N? Are you alright?”, someone shouted over the huge field, you turned around to see your boyfriend Yugyeom coming towards you. He was dressed in his typical style, mostly black and the usual edgy boyfriend look he always had.

“Yeah, I am. What about you?”, you smiled up to him and he sat down next to you. Even though he always seemed like the tough man from campus but you knew better.

“Bored and tired. You wanna skip class?”, he asked you and you hit him laughing.

“You dumbass, why would you do that?”, you asked him and he only shrugged, pulling your head on his lap, softly stroking over your head.

“Because I’d rather spend my time with my beautiful and sweet girlfriend than be stuck in that disgusting classroom. Come on, please”, he was pouting and you laughed at the way he was trying to convince you. “We only have that one last class left anyway; it won’t hurt to skip once.”

“Alright, fine”, you laughed and closed your eyes as you enjoyed the sun shining down on your face.

“Come on, let’s go! I wanna go home”, he grinned and pulled you up to go out of campus. You shook your head to the exit of your university. As it was a warm spring day, you tried to convince your boyfriend not to go home but to one of your favorite spots in South Korea’s capital Seoul.

“Why do you wanna go there now? Can’t we just go home?”, he pouted.

“Because I haven’t been there for a while now! Also, don’t pretend like you don’t like it there”, you told him and grinned as he rolled his eyes, nodding.

“Alright, let’s go then”, he agreed and you put your hands on his cheeks, squeezing them before you planted a kiss on his pouty lips.

You went to the closest bus station that would lead you to the beautiful nature and calming space. You couldn’t understand why Yugyeom suddenly didn’t want to go there anymore since he always went there with you.

As your bus finally arrived, he took your hand and pulled you inside, taking out a facemask to cover up his face. You boyfriend was pretty known around as he was handsome and talented in his dance. Yugyeom loved to post some of his current projects on social media where he was known by a big fandom.

Obviously, he had to cover up his face and he handed you a mask over as well.

“Are you okay?”, you asked him and looked up on him. You kind of were worried that he really only wanted to go home because he wasn’t feeling well.

“Yes, I am. Why shouldn’t I be?”, he asked you and you shook your head as you smiled.

“No, it’s just… I didn’t want to force you to come with me. Don’t think that please, I thought it would be nice to get out of the busy city. We can go back if you don’t want to go”, you told him, slightly feeling bad that you forced him to go with you.

“You didn’t force me or anything, my love. Don’t worry, I’m okay. I just thought we would simply go home and watch a movie, order food or just sleep”, he explained and you sighed.

“Okay… but we’ll go home whenever you want to, yeah?”, you asked him and he hummed before he pulled you closer to himself, as you leaned your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and trying to relax. Somehow your boyfriend’s presence couldn’t calm you down as you started to think about your random anger towards Jungkook. You still didn’t understand what happened or why it happened.

Once your bus finally arrived at Namsan, the place you two were heading to.

“If we’re already here, let’s take some pics”, he grinned and handed you his phone, making you laugh out happily. Yugyeom really knew how to distract you. Yugyeom really was a handsome man. He didn’t have to try much and was looking good.

“Come on, there is a small bistro and I’m hungry”, you told him as you handed him his phone back. Yugyeom kissed you on your forehead before taking your hand again and taking you there. You both ordered simple ramen and waited for the food to arrive.

“Well, well, well. If that isn’t sweet Y/N and your dearest boyfriend. What are you guys doing here instead of going to your classes?”, someone asked you two. You turned around and looked up to Jungkook and a few other people you knew from university.

“That’s none of your business”, Yugyeom literally growled and got up.

“Calm down Kim, not everything is about you. This time we’re here because of sweet Y/N”, one of Jungkook’s companions said, putting his fingers on Yugyeom’s forehead and the young man collapsed right into his arms. You let out a scream as Yugyeom lost his consciousness. Only a few seconds later, you also lost your consciousness as the boy put his fingers on your forehead.

You woke up in an unknown room. You felt scared for a second so you sat up and looked around. It seemed like a normal room, not a hospital or anything else.

“Why the hell are you awake already? You shouldn’t wake up before I make you wake up”, someone murmured making you jolt up. It was the same guy who made Yugyeom to lose his consciousness.

“Who are you? Where is Yugyeom? What did you do to him?”, you screamed, suddenly you were furious. The anger you felt towards a boy you never met was driving you crazy and you quickly got up. Then you just attacked him.

The boy quickly pinned you down on the ground, making your groan in pain but your hatred made you feel stronger and you quickly turned the guy around and punched him a right hook. He groaned in pain as he felt how strong you actually were.

“Fuck you, how can you be stronger than I am?”, the young man said before someone started laughing.

“I’m wondering that, too. How can be this little girl so much stronger than you, hyung?”, you looked up as Jungkook started talking again. “She really hit you that hard that you started bleeding.” He laughed again and shook his head, getting closer to pull you up. You started to fight against his strong grip on your arm but it was useless; compared to Jungkook, the other guy was weaker.

“Come on hyung, that was funny”, he laughed and softly patted the elder’s head as he still tried to hold you back from Jimin easily with only one hand. You slowly grew tired and stopped fighting.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

The small room started being filled with more and more guys and you looked around terrified at all the unknown faces.

“Our dearest Y/N is one of them”, Jungkook announced. “She probably didn’t know herself. Did you, Y/N?”

“W-what? I don’t k-know what you’re talking about”, you stuttered. You really had no idea what Jungkook was talking about.

“Cute. You really didn’t know that you are one of Aphrodite’s children?”, he asked you and you almost choked on your spit as he said that. Then you started laughing.

“Aphrodite’s children?”, you laughed and shook your head. “Good joke. Now tell me why the hell you brought me to wherever we are right now.”

“It wasn’t a joke, though. I’m dead serious. You are one of Aphrodite’s children. Just like we are Poseidon’s children. We all are practically half-gods. You, too”, he explained and you shook your head.

“You’re delusional. You’re… You’re fucking crazy. Let me fucking go, you asshole. I want to go home”, you told him and tried to get away from Jungkook’s tight grip on your arm. He was stubborn and didn’t let go, he was much stronger than the guy who you first saw when you woke up.

“It’s all the truth, Y/N. It’s your blood that made me understand who you are”, he explained. “When Jimin hyung made you lose your consciousness, you still were able to get your consciousness back rather quickly. No one besides Aphrodite’s children are able to do that. They are rare but the strongest. However, you really want to tell me, you don’t know anything about your true self?”

“I don’t! For god’s sake, I fucking don’t know!”, you yelled, you started to get furious again. You didn’t know why you suddenly grew more impatient and were so aggressive towards the guys in the room. None of them besides Jungkook and Jimin had talked before.

“That’s enough, Jungkook. Don’t pressure her anymore. She should rest and I will talk to her later”, one of the guys said, you immediately looked at him and your features softened at his calming voice.

“But hyung” – “No but’s, Jungkook. Everyone gets the hell out of this room and let her rest. Or I promise you, it will not end up well”, the guy said and pushed everyone out of the room. Before he left, he added a “Please, sleep a little more. Anger isn’t the best for you to feel as it puts us in danger. I will wake you up for dinner.”

“Can I maybe know your name?”, you asked him and he nodded as he introduced himself:

“I’m Seokjin. Sleep well, Y/N”, he said before he left and closed the door.

You sighed as you looked around the room before you sat down on the bed. You didn’t know where you were or how to get out. So, you just laid down and soon, you fell asleep.

As you woke up again, you weren’t alone. Someone was kneeling right next to you, you jolted up from the bed, covering your body up even though you knew you were still completely dressed.

“What’s going on?”, you asked the girl and scooted away when she tried to touch you.

“Nothing, I’m just checking up on you”, she answered. You backed away as she tried to touch your forehead again.

“Leave me alone. I don’t even know you”, your voice was shaky and you tried to get away from the girl as much as possible. But then of course the bed had an end. You had no space to escape anymore.

“Hey, don’t be scared. I won’t hurt you or make you lose your consciousness like Jimin that idiot did. I’m his twin sister, Areum. I only want to check up on you. Will you let me touch your forehead for a second? It won’t hurt, sweetie”, she said and smiled at you softly. You immediately found her comforting and felt safe around her.

“Okay”, you said, still a little unsure. She smiled a little brighter and quickly put her fingers on your forehead. A soft warmth went through your body and you felt happier for a moment. That feeling left you as Areum pulled her fingers away from your forehead.

“Good, you’re doing well. I’m glad about that. Also, I’m going to kick my brother’s ass for using his powers for something as useless as making you lose your consciousness. That’s just… wrong in any kind of way”, Areum started babbling and you laughed as she rather was talking to herself than to you.

“Anyway, what’s your name? My brother nor my dumb cousins didn’t tell me”, she pouted and you smiled as you introduced yourself.

“Can you tell me what is going on here? I only remember how Jimin made Yugyeom lose his consciousness… wait… Yugyeom! Is he okay?”, you asked panicked.

“Don’t worry. He is alright. I just came from his room. You got one handsome boyfriend over there”, Areum grinned. You blushed a little.

“Can I see him? Or am I not allowed to leave this room?”, you asked her and she nodded.

“You can go. I’ll keep my brother and cousins away from you two”, she gave you her approval and you immediately got up and started running before you confusedly had to stop. You didn’t even ask where Yugyeom’s room was.

“Right next to you”, you got scared as someone suddenly stood behind you and you turned around. You saw Jungkook standing there, chuckling at the way you flinched.

“You really need to train your senses. That way you will be able to know that someone is right behind you. I’m surprised that you survived until now without having the proper senses to know you have your enemy right behind your back”, he told you.

“Your sweet boyfriend is right there. But I would recommend you to find out, if you can really trust him”, Jungkook said and smiled then softly.

“What do you mean?”, you asked him confusedly but he didn’t answer you. He just disappeared and your eyes weren’t even able to follow him, he was that quick. You couldn’t comprehend how quick he was.

You didn’t think any more of it and only entered the room Jungkook told you your boyfriend was in.

“Hey, baby”, he smiled and put his phone away to open up his arms. “Come here, I missed you.”

You giggled and smiled, jumping up on the bed; he immediately hugged you tightly, inhaling your scent as if he was scared to lose you.

“I was so scared”, he mumbled. “I thought, I wouldn’t see you ever again. I was so, so scared.” Yugyeom didn’t let you go. He was holding you so tightly, that you were scared he would crush your bones.

“Yug… please, you’re holding me too tightly”, you said as you tried to breathe in properly.

“Sorry, I just missed you. I thought they did something to you and I was so worried”, you smiled brightly and turned around, pecking his lips over and over again. “I was so scared.”

“Don’t worry, I’m okay”, you reassured him. “They told me I would be one of Aphrodite’s children but… I don’t know what they mean. Do you have any idea?”

“W-what? No, I have no idea what they possibly could mean”, he stuttered but you didn’t notice it.

“Okay… I’ll just ask Areum later”, you smiled and put your head on his chest, trying to relax.

“No… we should get the hell out of here. I don’t trust Jungkook or his family so we need to get out of here”, he insisted, started talking to convince you of how much of a bad feeling he had about Jungkook and his family.

“Alright, let’s go”, you smiled and got up from the bed; he followed you quickly after.

“Where do you think you’re going?”, Jungkook suddenly appeared in front of you again, scaring you once again.

“Out of here? I have my own home”, you told him confused, chuckling at his dumb question. “You didn’t think I would stay here, right?”

“I didn’t think so, I decided it myself. You’re staying here”, Jungkook said, not caring a little about what you had just told him. You couldn’t believe him; you were so mad suddenly and you simply couldn’t control your anger.

“Hey, calm down. I don’t want to get another right hook from you. You might not have trained your senses yet but you’re still stronger than me. That’s exactly why you have to stay here. You can’t even control yourself when I say something that you don’t like. I don’t even want to imagine what happens if anyone hurts you in some way”, Jungkook explained and you understood what he meant. Slowly, you calmed a bit down.

“Good… now you can go, you lying ass”, Jungkook said, directed to Yugyeom.

“I’m not leaving her alone with you”, Yugyeom almost started fighting Jungkook as he was called a ‘lying ass’.

“What do you mean?”, you interrupted them, looking at Yugyeom first, then at Jungkook. “What are you trying to tell me? You told me to be careful if I can trust him, now you call him a liar?! What is your problem, Jungkook?!”

“He is my problem. You have no idea what he is. He is one of those assholes, he is one of Apollo’s sons and is only using you to survive! No one dares to lay a hand on you so he uses you as his protection!”, Jungkook’s voice was loud and he was definitely mad.

“What? Yugyeom… is that true?”, you asked your boyfriend as you couldn’t believe what you just heard. Was Yugyeom really using you for protection only?

“No! Of course, it isn’t true! Yes, I might be a son Apollo’s but I am nothing like my family!”, he defended himself and grabbed your hand. “It is definitely not true!”

“Don’t believe him, Y/N. He’s been lying all the time to you. Why do you think is he trying to get you out of here? He is trying to keep you away from us! But you have to believe me! I usually never am like this but I am fucking begging you to stay the fuck away from him!”

You had no idea why but suddenly you believed him. There was this warm feeling inside of you again, just the same feeling as Areum had put her fingers on your forehead, as you heard his words. They just seemed so right to you.

“Do you believe me?”, he asked you, he was desperate at this point. You smiled brightly and nodded.

“Yes, I believe you”, you answered him. “I believe you, Jeon Jungkook. I don’t know why, but your words… they just seem so right. It is just the best feeling I’ve had in my whole life. I don’t know what this is.”

“You’re a truthteller. You can sense lies. Focus a bit. Now, dear Yugyeom. Do you have something to tell your girlfriend?” Jungkook seemed confident, he knew exactly that Yugyeom was lying.

Suddenly, he was gone. It felt like less than a second where Yugyeom had disappeared but soon was brought back when you blinked once.

“You’re quick, but I’m faster, you asshole. Now tell your beautiful girlfriend what bullshit you pulled off with her”, Jungkook smiled. He was so sure of himself and the fact that you were used for Yugyeom’s protection.

“Fuck, okay, I used you for my own protection! Yes, I did that. But I never lied about how I felt about you, Y/N. I love you and this is the fucking truth!”, he was practically yelling and you felt the comforting warmth in your body as you heard those words.

“He is telling the truth”, you said and sighed. Jungkook scoffed only.

“But that means you knew who I was. You knew that I was one of… you. But still, you didn’t tell me. I was walking in the dark, not knowing my real identity. Why didn’t you tell me? Why?!”, you asked him desperately.

“I couldn’t tell you! My parents forbid me to talk to you about it!”, he tried to explain himself but this time, he forgot about the fact that you could feel it in your bones when someone lied to you.

“You’re lying. You could tell me. You could have told me. But you didn’t”, you couldn’t believe that he had the nerve to lie to you. That’s when you realized something else. “Did you just say your parents?”

“No… well, yes, I said my parents but I meant my uncle and aunt. Because… you know they took care of me when my parents- “

“Don’t fucking lie to me anymore!”, you screamed. “Stop lying!”

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, but I have to go”, Yugyeom said and disappeared again. This time, Jungkook didn’t move.

“I’m sorry that your boyfriend is a lying asshole”, he said and softly stroked over your cheek with his thumb. You couldn’t help but smile at his soft action.

“Why are you sorry? I’m all right, I’m just surprised that he actually did this whole thing but never said anything… he could’ve told me. I would’ve tried to kept it a secret, of course. Why would I say something like this to anyone else and put them in danger?”, you tried to understand Yugyeom but you had no argument that would make you understand his lies.

“I don’t know… you didn’t deserve this bullshit”, Jungkook just shrugged and sighed then. “We should get downstairs. Hoseok is probably already waiting for you.”

“Wait, who is waiting for me and why?”, you asked him confusedly, tried to hold him back when he had grabbed your hand and was leading you to some sort of studio.

“Hobi, one of my cousins. He will help you train your senses and powers. Believe me, he will get you to the point where you’ll be able to notice me from a mile away. He’s really good at what he does and he is a happy pill so you won’t get bored with him”, Jungkook explained and continued pulling you downstairs. He was leading you down to some kind of studio, at first glance, you thought it was a dance studio.

“Hello there, Y/N. I‘m Hoseok. It’s very nice to finally meet one of Aphrodite’s children”, he introduced himself. His words kind of offended you as you didn’t want to be reduced to your identity as one of the rare Aphrodite’s children.

“Don’t call me that. I’m more than just one of her children”, you fought back.

“Alright, dear. I didn’t want to offend you in any way. But as Jungkook probably already told you, I will be training your senses and powers.” He looked up to Jungkook. “What are you still doing here? Get the hell out of here”, Hoseok raised his hand and suddenly, Jungkook was moving backwards.

“H-hyung! Stop, alright, I’ll leave!”, Jungkook was already yelling at the older man and Hoseok only laughed. He lowered his hand and Jungkook stopped walking backwards. The younger boy disappeared within a single second.

“Damn, that was nice. Am I able to do that, too?”, you asked Hoseok, already feeling comfortable around the boy.

“Sadly, I don’t know that yet. I will have to find out but it might take a while. It could’ve been easier if your boyfriend didn’t run away because seems like, he can tell other’s powers”, Hoseok explained.

“What do you mean? Everyone has different powers? Why is that?”, you asked him confusedly.

“We don’t know why every single half-god has another power and different one, even if we’re from the same god. It just is a thing which happens by chance. But don’t worry, your powers will show themselves soon. You have to know that you can run faster, you’re stronger and that you’re healing quicker than normal humans. Maybe you have noticed that you never broke your arm or any other bone completely? Or the fact that your wounds closed quicker than those of other’s?“

“I didn’t know that”, you said. “I guess, I never noticed it.” Within the next second, you screamed out in pain as Hoseok cut your arm with a small knife. “What the fuck?!”

“Don’t get mad. Just watch”, he smiled and pointed at the now already closing wound. You were surprised as the wound was completely gone within the next few seconds. “See? This is just so normal. Your cells regenerate quicker than those of normal human, so your wounds close just as quick.”

“Tell me more, please. I don’t know anything about all this; it’s just so new for me”, you asked him.

“Alright then… I’m not much of the history guy, that’s Namjoon, so you’ll have to ask him later. I can tell you a little about the whole history and how the half-gods were created”, Hoseok smiled softly.

“Do you know the story of Helena and Paris?”, he asked you first. You shook your head, only knowing the names of those two persons in the Greek mythology but not their story.

“Summing up, Helena was the wife of Menelaos. But she fell in love with Paris. So, she ran away with him. Ran away with Paris and after her an army with Menelaos’ men. Helena was Zeus’ and Leda’s child, which made her Aphrodite’s sister. She ran away with him, not caring about the fact that she was putting a child in danger.

Later when she found out that she was pregnant, she was not accepted by the city she tried to hide as she was known as Menelaos’ wife and was expecting Paris’ child. She was protected and saved by her sister, Aphrodite. Aphrodite brought her to Paris, telling him about the child. To protect her niece, she gave Helena the Cestus, her necklace which would protect them both.

Helena gave birth to a beautiful girl. She was just as beautiful as her mother was and just as beautiful as her aunt was. Aphrodite made sure that all descendants of Helena would look just alike her and that it would be all girls. This is why you are rare. You have no one besides your mother and maybe your grandmother. You guys are so rare that I am surprised that Yugyeom managed to find you. But Jungkook was right with one thing: he only used you. Those who are descendants of Aphrodite are so special and important; you guys keep the emotion love alive.

As the city Helena tried to find comfort at attacked her, Aphrodite cursed them that if anything would happen to any of you, love, affection, it would all disappear from this world. No one would dare to hurt you. And we don’t intend on doing that”, he explained everything briefly.

“And why was there this anger and hatred I felt towards Jungkook whenever I saw him and why don’t I attack you anymore like I did before?”

“Honestly, I don’t know either. The hatred and anger start off with the murders that happened during the war for Helena but Namjoon will tell you more about this, I promise. I’m not much into history”, he chuckled lightly.

“That’s… a lot to process”, you sighed and shook your head. “So, it’s important that I stay safe. How can I trust you all? I don’t even know you.”

“You have no other choice, dear. You need to trust us”, Hoseok simply said, as if trusting someone you used to hate was the easiest thing. It wasn’t. But did you have another chance? No. That was what Hoseok told you and you knew he was telling the truth. You felt it deep in your heart.

You had to trust him or there wouldn’t be something called ‘love’ in this world anymore.

@viopera

#kafeholiday20 #bts #bts fanfiction #bts angst #bts fluff #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader

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snorlaxlovesme · 4 years

Text

Walk Me Home

So I guess I wrote this fic for a SoMa week prompt last year and then didn’t post it??? I found it in my drafts and was really confused what a fully completed one-shot was doing staring back at me lmao

So. Here’s a fic for I think the “2am” prompt. Title a reference to the P!nk song, since I’m pretty sure I spammed it while writing this.

____________________

“Hey. Hey!”

Maka hears Soul’s voice call out from behind her, but she doesn’t turn around. She doesn’t want to talk right now; she wants to leave.

“Jesus, why are you walking so fast? Slow down, fuck’s sake.”

The grit of the sidewalk digs painfully into the heels of her bare feet. It doesn’t slow her down, nor does it stop her. In fact, when she hears Soul’s panting from behind her, she petulantly picks up her speed until his hand is landing on her shoulder and pulling her to a stop. He tugs her around despite her best efforts to keep walking.

“Hey, you wanna tell me what the problem is? Why did you leave the party?” He doesn’t even look mad at her, just concerned, which somehow makes her just feel worse. Soul continues, “I went to go talk to Kid for a few minutes and when I came back everyone said you left. Did something happen?”

Clearly something must have happened. She knows he can see it all over her expression, in the way she bolted away from him. Hell, he can probably feel waves of it coming directly from her soul.

But she doesn’t want to talk, so she pulls her shoulder away from his grasp and keeps walking, marching towards the direction of home, probably. She’s still a little tipsy, even though she only had a couple drinks at the party. But whoever Kid hires to bartend at the Gallows Mansion has a heavy hand when it comes to mixing drinks. Either her cocktails were stronger than normal or Maka really is the lightweight every assumes she is. She keeps walking despite her protesting feet and the way the world is swaying around her.

“So you’re just not gonna talk to me?” Soul asks, still trailing behind her. She can feel his hand come to rest on her shoulders every now and again, steadying her when she tips a bit too far in one direction, but pulling away once she’s righted herself. Protecting her while also respecting her boundaries. It’s infuriating.

Soul keeps talking to her back. “Was it something it something Black Star said? You know how Star gets when he’s drunk. He’s got no fucking boundaries.”

It’s not Black Star. It’s not anyone specifically. It’s just everyone. It’s everything. It’s nothing. She doesn’t want to explain it, because that would just be another weakness to add to the ever-growing pile.

“I can kick his ass if you want,” Soul keeps trying, knowing full-well that he could never take Black Star in a fight. The pathetic offer almost makes her smile, but she gulps it down and tries not to cry.

Soul circles around in front of her. “Look, you don’t have to tell me, but could you please stop for a sec? You’re not wearing any shoes and your feet are gonna get all fucked up. There could be glass or something.” Maka, being Maka, doesn’t give a damn about potential dangers to herself, and continues marching forward, leaving Soul to roll his eyes and pick up his pace to catch up with her again. She’s trying not to look at him, but she can see the way his eyes widen in his ‘I have an idea’ face, and two seconds later he’s transformed into a scythe in front of her, hovering a few feet off the ground beside her. His wings flap quickly and silently to keep steady beside her.

“Please?” His voice comes his weapon form, tinny and desperate.

Now Maka is the one rolling her eyes. His winged-form only rubs salt in her emotional wounds, but her feet are admittedly in a lot of pain after almost a half mile of walking on cracked concrete. She concedes and throws a leg over his handle. She grabs onto him with both hands, expecting him to whisk her away to their apartment above the buildings of Death City. Soul surprises her by hovering another foot in the air, so her feet don’t drag on the cement, but flying at the same pace she was walking.

The quiet extends before them into the night. The farther they get from the Gallows, the harder it is to hear the booming bass of the music. Soul lets Maka direct them with her soul through the residential neighborhoods and away from crowded streets. She started this walk with the intention of being alone.

But, ten times out of ten she’d rather be with Soul.

She swallows. “Do you care what people think about you?”

On a normal day he’d snark at her for finally deeming him worthy of conversation, but today he’s quiet as he thinks of what response she might be looking for. She can feel he’s trying to pick apart the meaning of this starting question, but eventually just decides to answer honestly.

“Yeah. All the time.”

It’s the truth, Maka can feel in his soul that it is, but she still doesn’t believe it. In the time that Maka has known Soul, he’s grown so much. She’s always admired the way he just lets things roll off his shoulders, not giving a shit what others think about him. Maybe he’s just been faking it, but he does a damn good job playing the Cool Guy he’s always wanted to be as a kid. He makes Maka’s version of the same kind of make-believe feel like child’s play. No one believes in her flimsy brand of confidence.

“Do you care what people think about us?” she asks.

There’s always been something in the way people talk about the two of them. Soul, the powerful, confident demon weapon that took down Arachne and helped save the world from madness on the moon. Maka, the meister who just managed to hold on for the ride. Maybe that’s not exactly what they say, but it’s implied. In the way other students will look at him with admiration, with appreciation, and then how they look at her, like they’re surprised it was little unstable Maka Albarn who managed to produce a Death Scythe. She knows she’s weak, but do people have to throw it in her face all the time? Like she was the last person they expected to be helpful in the apocalypse?

Even at a freaking party there are people coming up to Soul and asking him for autographs while Maka stands right next to him. Like somehow they know the exact imbalance of strength between Soul and Maka and they’re disappointed in Maka the same way she is with herself.

Just thinking about it has her unconsciously pulling Soul forward down the street a little faster. She breathes deeply. Just a few more minutes and she’ll be home.

Soul finally speaks, breaking her out of her own internal pity party.

“No.”

Maka blinks.

No?

“Our partnership is no one’s business but ours. If people have something to say about it, whatever. I only care about one person’s opinion when it comes to our partnership. And that’s you.”

God, it’s such a simple yet complete answer. And he’s totally right, like always. She doesn’t know why she gives a shit what other people think about her and Soul. None of it matters in the end, but God, does Maka wish for once that when she thought of the word “strength” she could picture herself embodying that word instead of never measuring up. Instead of feeling guilty for somehow always thinking she’s holding Soul back.

“You know there’s nothing wrong with you, right?”

Maka’s soul spikes so suddenly in surprise that Soul comes to a halt in the middle of the street.

“I’m serious. I know you wanna be the best meister you can be, but you’re too stuck in your own head to realize how fucked I would be without you as my partner.” He quiets in a way that means he’s gathering his words, and Maka listens with bated breath.

“You’re the smartest and bravest person I know, okay? And you’re also a reckless moron who pulls some of the craziest shit in battle that I’ve ever seen in my life. It sucks that I have to keep saying this to you, but I’ll keep reminding you until you believe it. The only reason I ever had a prayer of becoming of a Death Scythe was because you’ve been my meister. Stop thinking that you’re not good enough, because you’re better than every asshole at the party. You did something they never could and now never will be able to do.”

Maka closes her eyes for a few heartbeats, allowing this to sink in. Even now, at 2am with the sky pitch dark because of the blackened moon, it’s hard to imagine that she was involved in that fight. She helped save the world and she’s still convinced that she’s somehow not good enough. Maybe Soul’s right, and what they have could only be accomplished with the two of them together. Maybe no one else matters but her and Soul.

“Soul? Transform for me, will you?”

Without hesitation, Soul morphs back into human form, holding her now on piggyback instead of on his weapon form. The shift from being supported by his handle to hanging off his backside is so natural that Maka doesn’t even have to think about it, just adjusts her arms so they’re tighter across his shoulders. She presses her face into the side of his neck in gratitude.

“You always know what to say, you know that?”

Soul snorts and hops a little to scoot her higher up his back. “It’s easy when your soul is practically screaming at me what you’re upset about.” He starts walking again, refusing to put her down because of his stubborn insistence that she’ll hurt her feet. “So. Party sucked for you too, then?”

Now it’s Maka’s turn to snort. All of a sudden the night’s whole emo conclusion feels very overstated. She feels foolish for being so dramatic but remembers that Soul thinks she’s strong even when she’s a drama queen. Depends on her even when she gets caught up in her own head. The reminder calms her soul down considerably.

“Think I drank too much,” she says, nestling closer to his back and laying her arms heavily over his shoulders to remain balanced. “Ox said some dumb shit about me being the weaker partner and it made me sad.”

“Alcohol is a depressant,” Soul says, kind of snooty. He’s repeating what she’s told him on his Moody Drinking nights.

“Wait a minute,” Soul says. “Did you say Ox? Who the fuck is he to talk about being a weak partner?”

“I thought you said you don’t care what anyone thinks about us.”

“Yeah, but that was before I found out it was fucking Ox Ford who was talking down to you. I could totally take his ass in fight.”

Maka laughs for the first time all night. Soul continues ranting all the way home about how he’s going to beat Ox’s face in the next time he saw him (he won’t) and Maka thinks that maybe real strength is remembering that you always have someone on your side.

#soma #soul x maka #soul eater #soul eater evans #maka albarn #like its not the BEST thing ive ever written but damn kelly you could have at least POSTED IT #se fic #my writing

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kaibacorpintern · 4 years

Note

yuugi and kaiba... platonic... maybe a lil angst like kaiba doesnt know how to have friends and yuugi just accepts him as he is and kaiba can be a kid for once.. for the minific prompt pls? :) thank u.. luv ur blog btw

just thought you should know that when i read this prompt i instantly turned into this and wrote almost 5,000 words. it’s a little angsty and about friendship, but it’s also about loneliness and food and depression, with a few jokes peppered in here and there. DSOD didn’t happen but atem is alive, because i say so. i want kaiba and yuugi to be friends so freakin’ bad.

long story short: i went nuts. thanks for the prompt!!

***

Every day, little by little, Kaiba looked greyer. The lines of his shoulders slouched. The hollows under his eyes deepened, like holes being dug in the dirt, on hands and knees; a slow, miserable burying. To hear him speak was worse. Yuugi heard his voice from thousands of miles away, like he was on a different continent, a different planet, and the light of every thought was crossing the staggering empty silence of space. It terrified Yuugi, to think of Kaiba as fading, that someone who raged with all the thrill and fury of a storm could slow down like this. But he was fading.

“Hey. Are you alright? You seem down lately,” Yuugi tried, on one of the rare mornings where he caught him alone in the elevator, on his way up to the game design department. With no one else around, he usually felt emboldened to drop the act: not an employee with his boss, maintaining proper deference, but someone who’d known Kaiba for a very long time, and knew him like few others did.

The glass-walled elevator whirred as it rose. Kaiba stood there with his arms crossed, impassive, his back to Domino. The city streets unfurled below them.

“The elevator’s going up, Yuugi,” he said, after a full seven seconds of silence. A weak dismissal, by his standards, made even weaker by a toneless delivery.

“Sure. But - ”

With a polite ding, the elevator opened onto the game design floor.

“You’re running late,” Kaiba said, nodding him pointedly out the door.

“Bro, I’m fifteen minutes early,” Yuugi said.

“Don’t fucking ‘bro’ me, ” Kaiba snarled, with all the sudden, twitching ferocity of a nervous dog. Yuugi smiled and slowly backed out of the elevator, his palms turned out, long enough to make his point: he'd come in peace. Kaiba frowned at him, bristling, until the elevator doors started to close. The last Yuugi saw of him, before they touched together, were a pair of blue eyes, their fiery energy winking out like a popped spark, falling shut with a sigh.

At his desk, Yuugi toyed with his phone for a good ten minutes, ignoring emails and his coworkers’ good mornings, his thumb hovering over Mokuba’s contact info as he rehearsed in his head. Hey, how’s Stanford? You enjoying your classes so far? Making friends? Of course you are. Great. Well, so, I’m calling because I’m worried about your brother -

A call like that would put Mokuba on a plane within an hour, honestly. But maybe Mokuba would want to know. Maybe he shouldn’t. Maybe if he left his first quarter of college and returned to Japan, just because his brother had a few bad nights or something, Kaiba would punt Yuugi off the top of the building.

Maybe Atem? The only person Kaiba ever “talked” to about anything, if pummeling each other with card game holograms could be called a conversation. Which they did.

YUUGI What’s eating Kaiba? Is he alright?

He stared at his phone a while longer until remembering it was the middle of the night in Egypt. He put his phone away, put Kaiba out of mind, and got to work.

***

Atem texted back mid-afternoon.

ATEM I don’t know. Go find out

YUUGI Okay but i’m not you lol he won’t tell me. even with a duel

ATEM GO

ATEM FIND

ATEM OUT

YUUGI OKAY I'LL DO MY BEST

ATEM And tell that stuck-up bastard to answer his fucking phone one of these days

Odd. Kaiba never ignored Atem.

YUUGI I’m on it

He finished work late, packed up his things, and headed downstairs to the lobby, moving quickly to catch his train. He had most of a mind to save the Kaiba question for later, go home, and flop face-down on his bed until he roused himself enough to pick at leftovers. The elevated metro station was awash in a crisp dusk light, the navy purple night descending on the day’s final line of gold. His train was coming in three minutes; the next on the same line in thirty-four. He'd just made it.

If he stood at the far end of the platform, craning his neck, he could see the long strip of windows at the top of the KaibaCorp tower. Dark. Kaiba had gone home early. Yuugi frowned, biting his lip, as his train arrived.

He let it go, jostled and swaying in the flood of people flowing in and out of the carriages. The next train took him far from home, flying with sleek electric ease through the glittering glassy black monoliths of the city, and into the leafy, overgrown estates beyond the far edge of town.

***

Kaiba's estate was a brisk walk from the last station on the line, along the side of a road without sidewalks, and through a tunnel of trees that laced their branches together over the road. By the time Yuugi got to the gates, his feet aching in his sneakers, night had fallen. The trees were thick with shadow and wind, whispering to each other in fairy tale voices. It was the kind of night that urged people into their homes, with the doors locked, away from the ancient things that lurked in the undergrowth, wild and forgotten and stronger for it. He was relieved to reach the gates, on the edge of the illumination around Kaiba's mansion, held in the center of the light like a toy castle in a snow globe.

The gatehouse was empty. A security camera peered down at him from the top of a wall, nestled in a thick swell of vines. Ignoring its glossy little eye, Yuugi studied the door in the wall beside the gates, pushing more vines aside to find the keypad. If he called ahead, the chances of Kaiba buzzing him in were next to nothing. They were next to nothing on a good day.

YUUGI do you know the key code for the door?

ATEM 445241474F4E#

ATEM that took me literally years to get

ATEM go around the back. he won’t open the front door

YUUGI you're the best <3

He tapped in the code, carefully. What if he got it wrong? Would a trapdoor open up below his feet? With his back to the quiet road, and the dense, rustling woods on the other side, he swallowed his laugh.

The door opened with a faint click. Yuugi slipped through and began the long walk up the drive to the mansion, sneakers crunching the gravel underfoot. On either side of the drive, the lawns were pristine, every petal of every flower and every leaf on every hedge perfectly in place, holding the poses nature’s hand had fixed them in with effortless ease. Somewhere across the grass, shrouded in the night, came the distant murmur of a fountain.

The mansion itself was an ugly, graceless brick of a building, so rigid and square in its design that its position in the center of this wooded estate seemed an oppressive intrusion. Per Atem’s instructions, Yuugi skirted the front, with its twin dragon statues and Roman columns and imposing front door, and went around to the back, padding silently through the grass. Like the top of the tower, the windows were dark. Every glance through the glass, checking for life, made him feel like he was looking into the bottom of a well, deep and cold and watery, a tomb for hopeless wishing.

At the back of the house was a large patio, with a view of the sprawling grounds, which rolled downwards in a gentle slope, all the way to a line of trees. There, the grounds gave themselves back to the wild. Even on a shivering night like this, it was easy to imagine what the patio was like in the full splendor of high summer, drenched in sunlight and everything shimmering in golden-white heat.

A thin light cast a hazy cloud onto the patio through a pair of sliding glass doors. Yuugi stopped, halfway across the patio, questioning himself for the nth time that night. And if he was overreacting? So what if Kaiba was in a mood? Kaiba was always in a fucking mood. Yuugi had no doubt Kaiba would thunder at him for a while over the arrogance, the audacity of his presumptions or something, and then throw him out by the scruff of the neck. Oh, god. The embarrassment burned in his face already.

Yuugi firmly shoved his own feelings aside. He was a gamer - a gambler - by nature, and he’d learned enough over the years to bet on his own instincts. He gamed it out, in his head, shuddering into the warmth of his jacket as the breeze rolled through him:

He checks on Kaiba, and everything is fine: he goes home feeling awkward and Kaiba avoids him at work for the next three weeks. Acceptable outcome.

He does not check on Kaiba, and everything is fine: he goes home, and the whole night gets written off as a weird, secret little adventure. Acceptable outcome.

He checks on Kaiba, and everything is not fine: unacceptable, but now someone knows. Acceptable outcome.

He does not check on Kaiba, and everything is not fine: Unacceptable outcome.

He stole towards the sliding glass doors. They led into a glossy modern kitchen, as pristine as the grounds, and full of clean, gleaming surfaces. It was completely free of clutter like mail, or keys, or coffee mugs, or any of the other odds and ends that usually piled up over the course of normal days. A bowl of flowers sat on a kitchen table in a breakfast nook, starting to wilt. At the end of the kitchen island was a bowl of fruit. A still-life painting split in two.

Sitting at the island, perched on a bar stool, was Kaiba, his head resting in his folded arms atop the counter. His face was mostly hidden in the crook of his elbow; through the limp tangle of his bangs, Yuugi saw his eyes were closed. His black leather satchel leaned against the leg of the bar stool. The rise of his back as he breathed was slow and subtle, the only thing that convinced Yuugi Kaiba had not turned to stone in his seat. Asleep?

No.

A small blue light rose up from Kaiba's phone, lying on the counter. One hand slowly unfolded, silenced the call, and refolded itself. A gesture that made less than a ripple across the still water of this tableau.

Awake.

Lifelessly, doing nothing. Not even staring into space, but retreating into the space behind his eyelids, a space Yuugi knew intimately well: shallow and lukewarm and wordless, a space for letting hours and days drift by, uncounted. It had been a long time since he’d visited - not since he’d solved the Puzzle - but it was a space he never wanted to revisit. It was a space that stayed with you for the rest of your life, once you’d been there, and yet a space more distant than the farthest star in the universe, beyond the boundaries of both light and love. A place of perfect solitude.

Quietly, carefully, Yuugi tried the handle of the sliding glass door and found it unlocked. He slid it open.

Kaiba startled, pulling himself upright as though yanked by a puppet string on his neck. He turned to Yuugi, still and alert, not quite comprehending. As he understood who stood there, the pieces clicking into place, his eyes hardened in his pallid face, speechless, furious.

“Before you say anything,” Yuugi said, as Kaiba opened his mouth, “I have a story. Let me tell you, and then you can kick me out.”

“This is my fucking house. I can kick you out whenever I damn well please,” Kaiba snapped.

“It’s more of a puzzle, actually. I don’t think you’ve ever solved this one,” Yuugi said.

Kaiba looked at him sideways, now more confused and suspicious than alarmed.

“And if I solve it?” he said, because ah, yes, of course, stakes. Nothing ever for the joy of it.

“Bragging rights.”

“If I don’t?”

“Nothing happens,” Yuugi said.

They stared at each other. Yuugi ventured a smile. Did he dare walk in? He was still standing on the threshold.

“Fine,” Kaiba said, a word more like a sigh. “Come in and tell me your stupid puzzle.”

***

Every house has its own particular smell, its character, its self-contained story about those who call it home. Yuugi took off his shoes, setting them beside the glass door, and frowned. Kaiba's smelled like clean linens, a touch of dust, cool air. A muted smell with no character. He didn't know what he expected. Something else, something thick and wet and heady, like oncoming thunder, or concrete after rain.

On this side of the glass doors, the kitchen was even more exquisite, temptingly so. He knew, from his lusty late-night Internet searches, that the knives in the wooden block alone cost more than several thousand dollars. Untouched! He refused to let them go to waste. Such things were more beautiful when they were held and used and loved, doing what they were made for. And despite the marbled silence, the thin white lighting, this was a house, not a museum. Yuugi dropped his backpack on the floor next to an empty bar stool and turned to Kaiba, who was sitting upright, hands atop his thighs, watching him.

“Uh - do you have anything to eat? I haven’t eaten since lunch,” he said, slinging his jacket over his backpack.

“No. Every night I just plug in and recharge,” Kaiba said dryly. “I believe that’s called a fridge. Those have human food.”

Yuugi bit his tongue, hiding his smile as he went around to the other side of the island. At least Kaiba was still capable of snark. He opened the massive fridge - sparse offerings, sparsely touched - and rooted around, not quite sure what he was looking for between the limp carrots and slabs of smoked salmon. Only the cheese drawer yielded interesting spoils, unspoiled and exotically European.

“The pantry?” he said, nodding at the door next to the fridge.

“Presumably.”

Yuugi found a loaf of sourdough bread on a shelf in the walk-in pantry - a fucking walk-in pantry! - and returned to the counter with his haul: the bread, the butter, a wedge of Gruyere, and a brick of Emmental. “I’m making a grilled cheese. You want one?”

“If it makes you happy,” Kaiba muttered.

“It does, yeah,” Yuugi said, unsheathing one of those glorious, mirror-polished knives from the wooden block. He rolled up his sleeves and attacked the cheeses with relish. “So - the puzzle goes like this. You’re fifteen years old. You’re small for your age, underweight, painfully shy. You get shoved around a lot at school. Before school, after school. Whenever, honestly. No one really sticks up for you, although you try to stick up for them, when you can, and no one really talks to you, because you live in your own little world. Your head’s always in the clouds, and you get really excited over a lot of things no one else really cares about.”

As he spoke, he unearthed a frying pan and set it on the gas stove, slicing off several pats of butter. As they melted, soft and yellow-white, he carved several slices off the loaf, shuddering with secretive pleasure at the fresh crunch of the crust.

“Next time, just bring me your high school diary,” Kaiba said.

Yuugi snorted, buttering the slices and laying them carefully into the pan, where they began to sizzle. He draped the slices of cheese on top. “So you can read everything I wrote about you? No thanks. Anyway. You have one friend, but she’s not always around - her family travels a lot for work. So here you are, a bullied, lonely little oddball, and one day someone gives you a gift. A puzzle.”

“A puzzle in a puzzle.”

“Right,” Yuugi said, pressing down on the slices of bread with a spatula. The butter crackled and spat; a thick, warm smell wafted through the kitchen. “And if you make a wish on the puzzle, it grants your wish when you solve it. So you make your wish, and you solve your puzzle. You know the rest.”

He turned back to Kaiba. “Now I’m here in your kitchen, making you a grilled cheese. So. What did I wish for?”

To his credit, Kaiba was taking it seriously, offering no snide comments about magic or wishing, leaning forward with his arms folded again on the counter. Yuugi let him study him, eyes narrowed and thoughtful, knowing he was running back through all eight years of their shared history, doing the math.

“Well, no one shoves you around any more,” Kaiba said. “Not even me, judging by the fact that I can’t even get you to leave my house. I should’ve known better than to try.”

“Ooh, a compliment. Thanks, I’ll treasure it forever,” Yuugi said, grinning, flipping the sandwiches. Melted cheese oozed from the sides. The bottom slices had toasted to a golden brown. His mouth watered. “Plates?”

“Up and to your left.”

Yuugi opened the cabinets and, standing on tiptoe, eased out two matte black stoneware plates. Fancy.

“You wished for strength,” Kaiba said.

Yuugi slid the grilled cheeses onto the plates and severed them in half with the spatula.

“Nope,” he said, leaning across the island counter to set the steaming grilled cheese in front of Kaiba. The semantic point that his friends and his strength were one and the same seemed irrelevant. He was speaking to Kaiba. He needed to speak in Kaiba’s language. “Strength wouldn’t have solved anything for me.”

“You just said you were getting shoved around - ”

“I wished for friends, Kaiba,” Yuugi said. “Yeah, I was tired of getting shoved around. But I was even more tired of being alone.”

“I - “ Kaiba cut himself off, pressing a sigh through his nose with a tight, pinched expression. Within seconds his face soured. “You make a wish on your magical little trinket, and you get just what you always wanted. How fucking fantastic for you - ”

“Don’t do the aggressive-aggressive thing, it’s not cute,” Yuugi said. “And don’t test me, either. You and I are way past that. Just look me in the face and tell me, honestly, you want me to leave.”

Kaiba turned that ferocious blue gaze on him, silent.

Yuugi waited, holding his gaze.

Thin, languid tendrils of steam rose from their melting grilled cheeses and folded away.

“Don’t tell me you think of me as one of your magic wish friends?” Kaiba said.

“There’s nothing magical about our friendship, no,” Yuugi said, and to his delight Kaiba snorted with amusement. “Now eat, before it gets cold.”

***

They ate, the evening quiet of the kitchen magnifying every fried, crunchy bite. Yuugi had hoisted himself onto the bar stool next to Kaiba, congratulating himself on a well-made grilled cheese. He would’ve made it work even without the expensive knives.

"Don't tell Mokuba," Kaiba said, dabbing at crumbs on his plate with a greasy scrap of bread, "or Atem."

"Don't tell them what?" Yuugi said.

"How you found me. On hour six of staring at a wall.”

"I won't," Yuugi said.

"They don't need to worry about me. I can take care of myself," Kaiba insisted.

"You can, but are you?" Yuugi said.

"Mmh," Kaiba murmured, resting his elbows on the counter and his chin atop his laced hands. “Don’t tell them that, either.”

His eyes rolled sideways, his gaze drifting around the kitchen, through the arched doorway, through the rest of the house, where all the lights were off. Yuugi slid off his stool and selected two pears from the fruit bowl, heavy with ripeness, rinsing them in the sink.

“Did... something happen? Did you get in a fight?” he ventured. “Atem says you’re not answering his calls.”

“No. Nothing like that.”

“Then what?”

The kitchen swelled with silence.

"They left," Kaiba said finally, as Yuugi considered how to cut the pears. A basic wedge cut was too childish. "And I told them to go, enjoy it, make the most of it. They have their own lives to live. Mokuba must've asked me a thousand times if I'd be fine without him if he went to California, and I said yes, go, because I don't need him around. I'm fine. And there's no point in getting angry with someone for leaving if you don't need them in the first place."

The effort must've been massive, Yuugi realized, slicing into the pears, to keep the anger at bay. To dig into the wound and wrench the thing out whole, raw and throbbing, without duels or rubbled islands, and without the help of the people who loved him the most. No wonder he looked so exhausted, so limp; no wonder he was again sinking towards the counter, arms folding, his head dropping like there was a hand on the back of his neck, guiding him down with animal docility.

“How long have you been feeling like this?” Yuugi said.

“What the hell do you know about it?” Kaiba said, semi-muffled by his elbow.

“It feels like there’s this dark little pit in yourself that you can’t stop digging,” Yuugi said, “and when it’s deep enough, you’re gonna curl up and bury yourself at the bottom and sleep for a year. Right?”

Kaiba said nothing, heaving another sigh.

“Sit up. Eat this.” Yuugi thunked a plate of pear in front of Kaiba, each slice wafer-thin, almost translucent, dripping with light. Kaiba dutifully pulled himself up and removed several slices of pear, with jenga-like precision, careful not to damage Yuugi’s artful pinwheeling. “Well?”

“I always feel like this,” Kaiba said, a startling confession, all the more terrifying for the blithe, dismissive tone with which he confessed it. “So what if it’s a little worse than normal? I’ll find my way out of it.”

Yuugi leaned over the counter, hands clasped atop it, business-like.

“I have no doubt in your ability to get out of this,” he said. “But I don’t think you should do it alone. See, I don’t want you to leave, either.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yeah?” Yuugi said. “I challenge you to a duel. My deck’s in my backpack. I have some new strategies I’m dying to test, and you’re the only one who makes me really fight for it. How about it? Wanna duel?”

Kaiba exhaled, resting his elbow on the counter, his cheek against the back of his hand. He plucked out another pear slice, not eating it; instead just letting it dangle from his fingertips, watching a tiny pearl of water roll off the edge and break apart on the plate with monumental indifference.

Watching him, Yuugi allowed himself a brief, private moment of grief, for Kaiba, knowing he wouldn’t want it, and he’d be insulted if he knew. To have your heart broken by what you love was one thing; to swing from love to hate was another; but to stand still and feel your love go, leaving nothing in the hollow it left behind, was the worst.

With a light flick, Kaiba released the slice of pear, his gaze drifting again.

“No. I’m tired of fighting,” he said sullenly, so dull a sound that Yuugi sucked in a breath, two dueling thoughts colliding with concussive impact in his chest. Good, stop fighting, why don’t you finally get some rest, and the urge to grab him by the shoulders and shake him and shout no! keep fighting! I know you’re in there!

Kaiba lifted his head, looking at Yuugi with an air of steeling himself. “Okay. What... what do you want from me?”

Yuugi almost laughed, but caught himself. No good things came from laughing in Kaiba’s face.

“Other way around,” he said, drawing a circle in the air with his finger. “This is about what you want from me. Whatever you need. Whatever you want.”

Kaiba frowned, thinking.

“Do you seriously believe the magic of the Millennium Puzzle helped you make friends?” he said.

"Um. Well, it was more like a domino effect, you know? A chaos theory, butterfly hurricane kind of thing - “

“Magic had nothing to do with it. It was all you,” Kaiba said, with more heat and passion than he’d shown in weeks. “But you have to understand I’ll never be your ‘bro’ - ” couching the word in air quotes, a disdainful pair of twin finger twitches - “and I’m not one of your little pals, like Jounouchi, or whatever. That’s not who I am. That’s not how I do it.”

“I know,” Yuugi said. “Listen - ”

“I don’t - ” Kaiba huffed and scowled at the counter, at his blurred, misty reflection. “I prefer to handle things on my own. I always have. I don’t - know how - ”

“Kaiba.”

Kaiba looked up, shoulders stiffening, his face tight and stricken.

“I know,” Yuugi said. He let that hang between them until Kaiba’s shoulders had eased out of their anxious coils. “Don’t worry. I’m not adding you to the group chat or anything. I don’t expect anything from you except the occasional bitchy comment, and maybe a good, boisterous laugh, from way deep down in your chest, like when you draw Blue-eyes in a duel. You know, the ‘I got you now, fucker’ laugh.”

Kaiba laughed - a laugh at half-power, lacking his usual trumpet blare of triumph, but a laugh nonetheless. “You are an oddball.”

“Birds of a feather,” Yuugi said smugly, and checked his phone. It was getting late. “Okay. I think I’ve bothered you enough for the night - ”

“You’re not bothering me. Are you taking the train back into the city?”

“Yeah.”

“What line?”

“Red line,” Yuugi said, and was struck by an idea. "Why? Somewhere you wanna go?"

"I'm in the mood to get out of the house for a while," Kaiba said. "It's too fucking quiet in here without Mokuba."

Yuugi fixed him with a look. "Yeah, so one of the interns was telling me about a new arcade that just opened off the Ishibashi station. I was gonna go after work with the guys to check it out some time, but..."

He didn't even need to finish the thought. Despite his best effort to hide it, something hopeful had bloomed across Kaiba's face, rich and warm. It made Yuugi ache to see that look, and to wonder what he would've wished for at fifteen, freshly cast from the forge and still hard and brittle and white-hot with rage, burning everyone who touched him.

"Get your coat, let's go," Yuugi said, and Kaiba almost sprang off his bar stool. "Wait - finish the pear. I cut it fancy for you and everything."

Kaiba rapidly ate the pear. "The grilled cheese was excellent, by the way."

"Really?"

"Yes. If you come back and make me another, I'll make all the bitchy comments you want."

Yuugi laughed. "Deal."

***

ATEM did you talk to him?

Yuugi leaned against the polished wooden edge of the pool table, his thoughts whirling in his head lazy and kaleidoscopic. He was halfway through his third beer. They'd gone through air hockey. The racing games. The shooting games. Foosball. Kaiba had spent fifteen minutes at the claw machine, winning a plush Kuriboh for a middle schooler and pressing it into her hands with a firm explanation of how the machines were rigged against her.

Then they'd found the pool tables, in a dim little corner, the green felts shining like tropical islands in a shadowy red-brown sea under the hanging lights. Yuugi was still smarting from the whipping, which Kaiba had delivered with almost careless ease, drink in hand.

"Yuugi. Look," he said, leaning over the table, aiming the pool cue at some bizarre constellation of pool balls, his long shadow falling across the felt.

"Give me a sec," Yuugi said, and swiftly rescued Kaiba's sweating old-fashioned from the edge of the table.

YUUGI ya. now he's showing off

YUUGI trick shots at the pool table

ATEM so he's fine?

"You're not looking," Kaiba said, lifting his head. "Look."

"I'm looking," Yuugi said.

The cue moved smoothly between Kaiba's fingertips as he aligned his shot - sleek, frictionless, silent - with a quick, sharp thrust he sent the pool balls smashing into each other, cracking like lightning across the table and vanishing into the pockets. The last ball rolled towards the last pocket with slow, melodramatic flair, teetering over the lip, like it knew exactly who had struck it, and what kind of show it needed to put on.

It dropped in, clattering into its fellows at the bottom of the pocket.

Kaiba laughed, triumphant, glowing with youthful glory, catching the victory by his hip with a yank of his fist.

YUUGI he will be

"Did you see?" Kaiba said, turning to Yuugi. The lines under his eyes were still there; the seams that held him together, pulling apart. Those would take some time to repair.

But for the moment he was radiating with energy, beaming, star-like in the dim electric gloom of the arcade. Not hidden in the blackness of space, but brighter for it. Despite it.

"I saw," Yuugi said.

#shark-platinum #fanfiction #rivalshipping #it's not romantic but it gets the tag because *ben wyatt voice* its about the dynamic

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minimicrofics · 3 years

Text

Not So Super

Fandom: DC Pairing: Clark Kent (Superman) & Mxyzptlk Summary: Mxy decides to have some fun with his pal Superman.

Warning/tags: Anal, tiny!superman, Tiny man, Giant man, aware,magic, jacking off

…

It had been a rather peaceful day in Metropolis. The people were going about their day like normal and everything was calm. Clark Kent was among those people going about their day. Working at the Daily Planet meant he got to be made alert as soon as something newsworthy or something needing Superman showed up.

So far nothing needing him OR Superman had popped up so of course, he was doing his natural job. Doing a coffee run for some of the other reporters. Leaving the coffee shop Clark stopped as he watched people run away in terror. Turning just a bit, Clark saw an entire skyscraper turn into a giant cardboard box while a man and woman had been turned into a pair of dolls. There was only one explanation for this.

“Aw! It’s so good to be back!”

Mxyzptlk.

Clark watched as the extra-dimensional man levitated off the ground and continued to zap everything and everyone in sight. He had dealt with Mxy before when he tried to get his cousin Kara to be ‘his’, luckily they had gotten rid of him.

However, somehow he returned.

Letting the coffee drop from his hands, Clark grabbed at his shirt and pulled it open to reveal the house of el symbol on his chest. Using his superspeed he quickly zoomed off returning dressed in only his superman suit. He was quick to get many of the civilians out of the area so they wouldn’t end up changed like the others before returning to the imp.

“Mxyzptlk! I don’t know what you’re doing here or how you got back but you need to stop this right now!”

“Ah, superman! I was wondering when I would get to see you again! I hoped ‘playing’ with your city would lure you out. Glad to see I was right!”

“Well, here I am! Now I’ll send you back to where you belong!”

With that Clark kicked himself off of the ground and flew towards Mxy with his arms stretched out in front of him. He knew this wasn’t going to be an easy fight and would have to trick Mxy into saying his name backward but he’ll knock him out first so he can at least stop the chaos for a bit.

“Oh, not so fast tights.” Mxy lifted his hand and Clark froze in the air. No matter how hard he tried to move he couldn’t. “I told you before you got rid of me last time I would have fun with you when I returned and I intend to deliver on that promise.”

The imp snapped his fingers and Clark felt a surge of energy flow through him. Clark felt himself growing weaker and weaker. The Kryptonian began feeling dizzy as the world spun around him and he seemed to be falling. Everything was going so fast and before Clark knew it he had blacked out.

Clark opened his eyes and felt something soft both beneath him AND on top of him. It was a sturdy yet soft fabric that seemed familiar to him. He tried to use his x-ray vision to see through the fabric but couldn’t. It was then that Clark saw he was also naked.

“W-what happened? Where are my clothes?” Then Clark remembered. Mxy. “Oh no.”

Crawling through wherever he was, he finally got a glimpse of light. Once he exited through the hole, Clark was blinded by the light. Once he had regained his focus, Clark’s eyes went wide at the sight before him.

Metropolis was always huge, but now it was enormous! The skyscrapers were even taller than they had ever been before. Then Clark’s eyes settled on him. Mxyzptlk. The imp was now the size of a giant grinning down on him. Clark knew then what had happened, what Mxy had done to him. Clark had been shrunk.

Mxy squatted down to get closer to the shrunken superhero. “Aw look at that. You’re so adorable like this.” He used his finger to poke and prod at the tiny Kryptonian.

“Stop it! Grow me back right this instant!” Clark cried out. It only made Mxy laugh as he heard just how high pitched Clark’s voice was now.

“Oh, now THAT’S adorable.”

Mxy’s hand reached out going to grab Clark and the man tried to fly away. However, when he tried to take off, Clark was stuck on the ground.

“Aw, what’s the matter? Superman can’t fly?” With that Mxy’s hand grabbed Clark and lifted the man up. He tried using his super strength to escape from the imps grasp but no matter how much he tried he couldn’t seem to get the hand to budge. “Oh, I forgot! I also might have weakened your powers so much it’s like you don’t have them. Surprise!”

Clark wasn’t sure what to do. Without his powers what COULD he do?

“W-what are you going to do now?” Clark squeaked out.

“Like I said earlier.” The imp’s wicked grin grew wider. “Have fun with you.”

Wiggling his fingers, Mxy transported himself and Clark. Clark watched as the open streets of Metropolis morphed and changed into a bedroom, which he recognized as his own.

“I say, Superman...you sure do have good digs.”

“Don’t touch anything!” Clark shouted while trying to escape the grip he was trapped in.

“Oh, I’ll touch whatever I want thank you.” He let his giant finger rub over Clark’s shrunken cock. “Honestly I thought Superman would have a much larger cock...bigger than my finger at least.”

“Oh, I’ll show you something bi-ugh!” Clark couldn’t help but moan as he felt Mxy’s fingers rubbing his cock even more. It was almost like he was giving a handjob. “Uugghh. W-why are you doing this to me?”

“Because you are one of the most beautiful specimens I’ve ever seen and I think you’d make a wonderful toy.”

With a snap of his fingers, Mxy’s clothes disappeared leaving him naked and Clark lost his breath at the size of him. Mxy’s cock was almost triple the size of his whole body now! Jumping onto the bed, the imp ran his tongue over Clark who flinched away as much as he could.

“There. All lathered up for your new home.”

“W-what?” Clark was disgusted by being slobbered but what did Mxy mean about a new home?

Before he even tried asking, Clark got his answer by Mxy lowering him down and spreading his legs. Clark watches as Mxy’s hill sized cheeks spread to show his hole. Clark’s new home.

“No! NO! NO! LET ME GO! STOP THIS NOW!” Mxy chuckled and felt himself growing hard by the tiny hero crying out. He continued to push him closer and closer to his entrance. “STOP! STO-”

And then it was quiet.

The dimension jumper moaned out in ecstasy as he felt the tiny man push into his tight hole, squirming around like a vibrator. He grabbed his fast hardening cock and began to jack off as he watched videos of him changing people and shrinking superman. He always did find it hot and kind of a turn on using his powers. The entire time Clark was stuck and struggling inside of him.

As Mxy reached his climax he shot his load coating the ceiling of the room. “Ah fuck! Oh boy...that felt good. I’m definitely keeping you as my toy Superman, or should I say….SUPERTOY!”

Clark knew he wouldn’t be returned to normal any time soon...if he ever would be.

#superman #clark kent #tiny!superman #shrinking #shrunk #micro #macro #micro/macro #tiny!clark kent #mxyzptlk

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prongsisabadger · 3 years

Text

TWP Chapter 32

Wolffe woke up a few times and only maintained consciousness for a few seconds at a time. The first time was when Sketcher was making the arduous trek back to camp, shuffling forward with snow up to his knees and breathing heavily. He seemed to be repeating under his breath, but Wolffe couldn’t stay awake long enough to find out. The second time, he was inside the med tent, Twitch and other two medics were running around, fussing over his body, more specifically, his face. This time, he did notice his depth perception seemed to be off, and the awful headache he had made the lights too bright and the sounds too loud.

The third and final time he woke up, he was aboard the cruiser. He had a few monitors stuck to his left forearm and the med bay seemed to be completely empty, except for another person. It took him a few moments to recognize the black hair, yellow skin and the tiny little horns arranged like a halo on top of their head.

Kriari was curled up on a chair next to his bed, there were deep shadows under her eyes, and even in oblivion, her face was not one of peace. She looked stressed, tired, worried sick. Her brows were furrowed and her lips were tight, her arms were wrapped around her torso protectively and her knees were tight against her chest.

Had he really been wounded that badly? What could have happened that he-

Memories flooded his mind, like a tsunami hitting the Coruscanti city, tearing everything in its path to shreds. He saw brothers falling, stabbed, beheaded, strangled to death by some unseen hand. He saw two red lightsabers and eyes full of hatred for him, for what he stood for. And then, he saw no more. The pain was too great, the blood loss made him dizzy, he collapsed and knew no more.

Ventress.

Wolffe brought a hand to his right eye. It had been covered with a bacta pad. Had he lost it? Was he going to be removed from duty? Had he failed so spectacularly that his superiors would force him to retirement? What other options did he have? He was broken, he was no longer at full capacity, no longer complete. He was a broken man and broken men could not lead.

What would he do? Would he be sent to maintenance? Would he be put behind a desk, organizing some fancy person’s schedule? No, he was a soldier, he always would be, they would not send him away from his brothers, from the General -the closest thing he had to a father-, he would be dead before he was made to part with the 104th. And Kriari, he could barely look at her, if he had failed, then it was her who must have faced Ventress in the end. She faced Ventress and he was not there to assist her. Kriari had faced Asajj Ventress on her own and had probably thought he was dead.

Wolffe was not stupid, his loyalty to Kriari was not one sided, his care for her wasn’t either. She had been tested in that frozen inferno, and he didn’t know if she had passed that test. To think Kriari could have used the dark side in her grief froze Wolffe’s blood in his veins. No, she was good and in no way anything like Ventress. Kriari would never become that heartless, that cruel, that violently unhinged. He refused to believe it.

But he hadn’t been there, had he? He had made himself into a liability, he had gone and got himself fatally injured when his Commander needed him most. He had been weak. And now he was even weaker, broken, incomplete. All because of one angry lady with unhealthy coping mechanisms and two blasted lightsabers.

He needed to be smarter, faster, stronger, better in every way. He needed to go back to his original strength and then some. Wolffe would train himself to death if it meant this would never happen again, if it meant he could continue to serve by his Jedi’s side. If they didn’t decommission him, that is.

He realized that wouldn’t really stop him, and it was a little frightening. Like hell he would take any job other than that of a soldier. He would become a deserter if he had to, fight from the shadows, keep protecting the Pack however he could. Loyalty was everything to the clones, and loyalty went deeper than duty and always came first. It was an unspoken rule of the Pack: follow orders swiftly until they endanger the Pack. Not one member of the 104th would turn against their own, they would die first.

So Wolffe decided he would continue to serve whether they let him or not. He was no longer a complete man, but he would fill that void with the only thing he had: his people.

“You’re awake.”

The sound of Kriari’s voice startled him. He had been deeply in thought, and hadn’t noticed when she woke up. Wolffe’s chest tightened when he looked at her. Her hair was a mess, her robes wrinkled and dirty underneath her armour. The shadows underneath her eyes looked even darker under the fluorescent light of the med bay.

“I am.” He answered.

She smiled, tired, broken, and as her eyes glossed out and tears came to her eyes, Wolffe realized she had never looked at him like that. She was relieved.

“Tell me.” It had sounded like a demand, an order, but the weary look on his eye told Kriari he needed to know.

“I thought you were dead when I arrived,” she started. “Sketcher was holding your head up and the Force had almost completely left your body.”

“You fought her.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

He considered his next words carefully. He knew this was not his area of expertise, but he knew enough to be weary of her using the dark side. He also didn’t want to seem self centered by assuming his death would turn her. In the end, Kriari volunteered the information on her own.

“I would have turned if Sketcher hadn’t been there. It felt so natural to act on my anger and grief. I realized what I was about to do when I noticed it wasn’t Ventress he was afraid of.” She sighed deeply. “It was the will of the Force really, if he hadn’t been there, I don’t know what I would have turned into.”

Guilt stabbed ar Wolffe’s heart again.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough, Commander.” he said finally.

“Don’t,” she said sharply. “Do not think for a second any of this is your fault. You did your duty, you survived a Sith, Wolffe. That is no weakness.”

He frowned.

“I wouldn’t call what I did strength. Sketcher had to drag my sorry ass back to camp in a blizzard-”

“I don’t think you understand, Wolffe. You should have died, but in your desperate attempt to survive you unconsciously used what little midichlorians you have to hold onto the Force. You are not Force sensitive and you used the Force.” She said breathlessly. “Master Plo examined you when he arrived three rotations ago.”

He felt like she had slapped him across the face.

“No, I- that’s impossible.” He stammered out.

“Everything is possible with the Force.” She answered as if it had been something she’d been told her entire life. Then, she straightened on her seat and squared her shoulders. Commander Foreas would address him now. “Clone Commander Wolffe, by order of your Jedi General, Master Plo Koon, you are now promoted to Marshal Commander. In order for you to fit nicely into your new position, you will start training with General Plo and I. Congratulations, Marshal Commander.”

No, this was wrong. Wolffe had let his entire squad die, he had been wounded and his only surviving brother had had to carry him to safety. He didn’t deserve to be promoted, he had failed spectacularly and he hadn’t been there to assist his Commander in her fight against Ventress. He had been the reason she nearly turned to the Dark Side-

His thought process came to a screeching halt. He had been the reason she almost turned to the Dark Side, which meant she needed to have a strong attachment to him to begin with. The Pack knew their Jedi were powerful and resourceful, they never in a million years believed they could turn. And here Kriari was, still with them, but only because she had sensed Sketcher’s source of fear was her. Their bond -he realized- was strong enough for her to lose control should it be severed. Knowing this gave him a mixture of emotions: pride, joy, sadness, an urge to protect, and something else he couldn’t put his finger on. He realized some of these emotions were selfish, there was something inherently wrong in the possibility of Kriari turning because of him making him happy. But he couldn’t help it, the thought of what he would do if she died terrified him, but knowing she would go to the same extremes for him was reassuring in a twisted kind of way. But Wolffe was a smart man, he knew that acknowledging this would put her in an uncomfortable position with the Jedi Order, and him in violation of the GAR’s rules of conduct. They would have to keep it under wraps for the time being. If she ever left the Jedi Order, he would not be the reason why, and if he planned on continuing to protect her, he needed to keep his position in the GAR. But getting promoted still felt wrong, it felt disrespectful for those of his brothers who died at the hands of Asajj Ventress.

“I don’t believe I deserve the honor, Commander. I am no longer at 100% capacity, and I was the reason all those men died in the first place.”

Kriari shook her head and smiled a little as she stood. There was something in her eyes he couldn’t quite place, but he didn’t question it. They were toeing the line of the appropriate already.

“It’s not about what you believe, Wolffe. It’s about who we know you to be.”

…

There was a lot that I didn’t tell him, like how close I had actually come to turning, like how I wouldn’t be seeing the 104th for a while. I hadn’t told him it was him whom I’d been mourning and not his brothers. I hadn’t told him how I felt a piece of my soul die when I saw him. There was a lot I hadn’t told him. But I did tell my master everything. I couldn’t keep it to myself, not with how close I’d come.

Master Plo listened in silence, patiently waiting for me to finish speaking. I couldn’t look him in the eyes, I felt like I’d betrayed him, like I’d failed him in the worst way possible. Fallen apprentices were something that scarred Jedi for life, and to know I could have hurt him so filled me with guilt. I loved Master Plo, and I had betrayed him.

“Your thoughts betray you, Child.” he said finally before taking my right hand in both of his. “I am extremely proud of you, Kriari.”

I looked up so fast I might have snapped my neck. Tears were already running down my face and I was sure all he could see in my eyes was disbelief.

“You did what very little Jedi can do: you formed very strong attachments and resisted the dark side when one was severed.” his grip on my hands tightened. “You formed the very strongest attachment, Kriari, and you resisted the darkness.”

I looked at my master’s face, sensed him in the Force, he was serious.

“But it was only luck, Master, if Sketcher hadn’t been there-”

“There is no such thing as luck, Kriari. There is only the Force.”

I sighed tiredly. I was torn between what I knew to be right and where my heart was trying to guide me. Master Plo knew, but he stayed silent, it was something I had to figure out on my own. I needed time.

#TWP #star wars the clone wars #clone wars fan fiction #plo koon #obi-wan kenobi #ahsoka tano #commander wolffe #captain rex #padawan!oc

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nagitoandkokichioneshots · 3 years

Text

Did you know that it took me the whole day to write for her because I just can’t help but type and type? huhu habsuajwna skip the backstory if its too long for you. Sorry for the late submission!🙏✨

Name: Naomi Hitsuji

----> Naomi means "pleasantness" in Hebrew while Hitsuji means "sheep" in Japanese.

Age: 18-19

Birthday: August 26th

Height: 5'7

Weight: 132 lbs

Talent: Ultimate Police Officer

S/O: Nagito Komaeda

---> Despite being a significant other, their bond is only platonic love. Nagito told her that he never have an older sibling nor a younger sibling, he told her he would never hope of having it all since they will just be affected by his luck cycle. Knowing this fact, Naomi assured him that she will treat him like a sibling. She is always been babied by her older brother so she wanted to offer affection. The fact that he was stuck in a torturous luck cycle that stole his family made her feel like he is deprived of love and affection. Though Nagito declined the offer, Naomi told him that he deserves it. But time past by, Naomi has been more motherly and comfortable with him- she just wanted to see him with a satisfied smile in his face.

Japanese VA: Nana Mizuki (Hyuuga Hinata from Naruto)

English VA: Danielle Judovits (Sumia from Fire Emblem)

Looks:

—-> Naomi has loose and wavy beige hair that reach through the bottom of her breast. She has lavender mono-lid eyes. Her outfit is really hard to express—I am not knowledgeable with fashion so lets just leave it there isnsjwjwn 😔

Personality:

———> Experiencing a man dominated nature for quite awhile, her cheerful, childish and annoying determination shredded into a more sophisticated, formal and gracious persona. She changed to prove to her older brother that she could be an independent and firm person, that she could carry the both of them even if they are bursted by the waves of sufferings.

———> She is a woman that has strong will and broad principles. Despite being in the age of 19, she is very motherly, independent and understanding with her coleagues–but she is still strict when it is really needed. Her good communication and knowledge is what made her deserving of the title "Ultimate Police Officer".

———> She is a firm believer of hope, that hope can overcome this surge of loss and pain. She believes that hope can help her brother, hope can help the Ultimates. Which is why she believes that Nagito has good intentions, despite his eyes swirling from despair, he believes in hope.

Strengths:

———> Her choice of words. Naomi could move a person with her words. She always told her co-leagues with great assurance that they will do great and she always say that everything takes patience and understanding.

———> Her honesty and sincerity. Even though she can be blunt, she could be someone to be trusted!

———> A mother figure. She has a strong passion when it comes to people who needs guidance counseling and always there when you need a word of advice, no matter how annoying you are she could tolerate.

———> Her knowledge. She knows many things when it comes to handling heavy guns, drills, methods and fire coaching even though she is just a police officer—especially in the killing game COUgh. She really is good when it comes to strategizing and cooperation like ??? 😳

———> Her reaction time, agile and defense. (inspiration for this one is Annie Leonhart ✨)

WEAKNESSES

———> Lost of strong intimacy (such as romance). She's not capable of being open when it comes to intimacy like that. Its too out of her reach and she had been deprived from "romance" already—even her honesty have limits and she wouldn't like a topic surrounding that. Of course! she had loved but she will never admit that because it makes her uncomfortable. If someone confessed their love to her, she'll walk away with a small apology. If you ever ask for an advice related to intimacy, just so you know you'll get nothing ✨But don't worry! it just take an effort of assuring her and you'll get what you want.

———> Strength, stamina and power. She had lived for years without the proper nutrition after her family's massacre, she have to endure small amounts of food, famines and floods. The only thing that stop this weaknesses for showing is her knowledge because even without strength, stamina nor power—her knowledge is her weapon. Its not like she doesn't have it! But like its much more weaker than her strengths? Jdnjwjsns

———> Her loss of humor. KYAAA its not like she doesn't know how to get a joke! but if you ask her to tell a joke she wouldn't answer at all. Her humor suddenly walks away after her older brother's obsession in death. Like—humor isn't how she comforts someone, she'll be so awkward andddd in return you'll get her embarrassed and laughing out of it. She will somewhat tell you that she doesn't have good humor.

———> Her rage. Oh no, if you tell her to open up because it will be healthy for her—you'll also experience her anger. She will tell you that she wants to kill that scum who have the burning audacity to tell Megami to kill their family, she was so happy and contented even though they were living in a rural area and then someone comes there to steal it? For what? To have fun? Smh.

———> Meddlesome. If you catch her feels and moved her heart, you better catch this too. She is scared to lose another person even though she was just interested at you even a tiny bit so expect her to come with you even if you just want to look at the night sky and she will probably answer "Well you might get killed though" its not like she doesn't trust you but you guys are at a killing game so– free bodyguard I guess?

———> She is the type of person to put all her feelings in a jar then once it didn't fit her heavy heart—she'll burst and overflow then becomes empty afterwards. The cycle ALWAYS repeats ^^;

Family members:

Yuichi Hitsuji (Father : deceased) ,

Sara Hitsuji (Mother : deceased),

Hiroto Hitsuji (Eldest brother : ???),

Megami Hitsuji (Eldest sister : deceased),

Kenzo Hitsuji (Middle child/brother : deceased),

Nagahi Hitsuji (youngest/twins with Naomi : deceased),

Naomi Hitsuji (youngest/twins with Nagahi : alive)

Backstory (I noticed that there is someone who I almost have the same backstory so I change the siblings and the wholeass plot. It was supposed to be Naomi's twin brother but I found this out so I thought maybe— 😳 but just so you know you can skip this because its so HECKIN long)

The Hitsuji family lived in a rural area where they lived their happiness at the fullest. Even though they were almost hanging low from poverty, they were able to preserve their glee in the household. One day, when the eldest brother Hiroto Hitsuji was teaching the clueless Naomi how to plant crops on one of their lands—a sudden massacre happened inside the household. Blood spurts on the walls , the smell of blood was so strong to his nose that he feel like baffling.

The crime was so sudden and it astonished the residence when it was announced, no one was able to witness any clue or any sound that resonated from the house. Investigators visited but to no avail, there aren't hints of another suspect than the people themselves inside the household. Hiroto Hitsuji was almost suspected from the crime if it weren't for Naomi to be there with him. The case haven't been solved yet, but it was so popular to the public eye, almost as if it is an 'entertainment'—her older brother was so angry when the death of his family was made as a game waiting to be unsolved by people.

After 2 weeks or so, it was declared that Megami, the eldest sister of the Hitsujis was the one who slaughtered the ménage and to avoid getting jailed—she committed suicide along with them. Hiroto believed that it wasn't true and that Megami isn't capable of committing when she was the one who is the most contented out of the family. He believed that someone might've hypnotized or ordered her to kill though the authorities didn't pay mind to his blabbering. Poor Naomi didn't know anything of the slaughter until she turned 12.

She was so confused, Hiroto had to lie to her just so she wouldn't feel so disturbed of the sudden disappearance. She knew it didn't add up—she was trained heavily by Hiroto and the residence have been avoiding her and her brother, she could even hear whispers on her back just as she pass by. Not only that, she could always see him suffering alone as he fixed the crops on the field. It was so lonely, it was so depressing, it was so helpless in the household when only the two members have been there. It took all tears and shame for him to tell her that the others have been long gone.

Years have passed, and Naomi noticed Hiroto's immense hope. He never pay mind to rumors nor let every insult come shoot him. When he saw her so depressed and suddenly lamenting about the massacre, he will assure her with the most gentle smile he could muster. Hiroto was able to have income because lady luck gave him fortune to be able to stand up again. Naomi thought his behavior was amusing and when she opened about how laughable he is, he'll just grin at her way. Naomi adored and loved her brother from the bottom of her heart, he always stand up and always put on a smile even though he was carrying such a heavy load on his shoulders. She was so happy to be blessed with a strong man as a brother.

In years full of effort and recovering, his success didn't falter. The two was able to move on a well-known city (which is where the Hope's Peak Academy has took place). He was able to marry a woman named "Yuna Minato" whom he have met when he was selling what he has in supply. The family started with laughs and obnoxious behavior around the house. Naomi promised to do something for the family which is why she entered the police forces. Yuna and Hiroto welcomed her support with open heart, almost as if there were Naomi's parents. Naomi's new family is what she was sworn to protect and she delivered her determination and motivation to the military that she was able to rise up and get scouted by Hope's Peak Academy. She turned to a very positive, independent and determined person when she was able to engage with new Ultimates. She was so open and so capable of her job as an Ultimate.

The unbelievable blessings that happened also altered to a very horrendous nightmare, Horito and his wife Yuna who was pregnant with their 4 months child have gotten to a car accident after getting crushed by a truck who loose control. The truck driver ran away while swarms of people invaded the car. The family that Naomi have sworn to protect was hit by a wave of bad luck. To her surprise, Horito was able to survive the car accident but his wife and their child have died.

It resulted for Horito to fall in a pit full of self-loathing, he despised himself for never thinking. He thought that the only way he could give his apology with is his own life—its not like he need it anymore, its so pathetic anyways. He was placed on the mental hospital two months after the accident because he was spotted trying to die in public places, spotted by Naomi overdosing and etc. The admirable brother that Naomi rejoiced for, has finally broke and bursted from his heavy load of anger and sadness. With swirls and loops of despair, Horito cannot pass a day without crying and starving himself as he absorbed all the guilt of loosing another loved one with his reckless decisions. He told Naomi that maybe, just maybe—this was the curse of the Hitsuji family.

The hurt and fear she felt when Horito looked at her with contorted irritation and despair, when he yelled that this worthless and time wasting life shouldn't be tolerated anymore—that all he had was just false hope. She tried to maintain her composure and tell him to calm down because he is not alone, that she was still here with him. Her paranoia crept up to her as if she looked away, Horito will die the next second. Naomi can never exceed the pain if Horito died and leave her here. She wasn't able to protect the people she cared about, and thats what made her feel so drowned on doses of guilt. She bargained that this time she will carry for the two of them. Just like what Horito did when she was younger, she put a firm faith on hope. She believed that hope can stop this cycle of torture, she believe that hope can change her brother's self-loathing–it just needs some patience. She changed the childish personality of hers to a more sophisticated one, she wanted to prove him that she could carry his load.

Even though she said that, she can never resist fate. As if fate hated the Hitsujis forever, Naomi was transported to a killing game. Leaving Horito to suffer from loneliness and he secretly died after the fire on the mental hospital. He was condemned to ashes with his undying despair-filled life.

HEADCANNONS

-Naomi loves expressing her feelings on a letter, she would definitely put sticky notes on the head of her bed filled with rants and motivational poems!

-Naomi engages alot with Nagito because he reminds her of Hiroto. Like even the luck cycle is almost the same? If ever Naomi opened up about it, Nagito will prolly think that her brother has a luck cycle like him too.

-If Chiaki ever needs a gaming partner, she'll call on Naomi since she knew that she has good reaction time and really good when it comes to strategizing. Naomi will be a very great gaming partner!

-Akane will definitely challenge Naomi if she ever got reminded of Naomi's talent. But only for her to get disappointed because well—Naomi doesn't have that good of a strength at all.

-I really headcanon that Naomi and Nekomaru would be besties or like the mother and father of the group hmhmhm just a thought-

-Naomi didn't know that Horito is dead, which is why she had been believing at hope to something that would never be bound to happen.

AAAA THIs was 2467 words like emmmm, chile- anyways I am sorry its so long wjdnwjwj.

Gina: Welcome to OC fest, Naomi! My name is Gina, the Ultimate Philanthropist. This may sound a bit weird, but I never met a police officer before. But I bet it’s a super cool job. It’s so nice to know the safety of everyone here is in the hands of someone as hopeful as you!

Yukari:..............Gina, you’ve been spending WAY TOO MUCH time with the awesome Nagito

Gina: *blushes* Sorry.....but thank you for taking care of him, by the way. I appreciate it

Yukari: You ever need to awesomely vent about your unawesome trauma, we are all ears! And maybe an awesome game of chess with Oresama can cheer you up *smirks* Gotta warn you though, Oresama never lose~

#OC fest!#submission

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gold-and-rubies · 3 years

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In It For The Long Haul - Chapter 8

Violence Warning, especially for the ending. Mac POV.

MacCready leaned against the wall behind where Flynn was sitting. She was sat in front of the synth detective’s desk. He did not trust him as far as he could throw him, but Flynn was right. They did not have any other options at the moment.

What he did not understand was why the reporter was still with them. She had barely added an extra edge when they went to rescue Valentine, and he had practically felt judgement radiate from her when he had first met her. She was not offering anything now, but if he was honest he did not think he was either. He did not completely understand why she was having him stand there, and not buy more provisions since they had burnt through some ammo already.

His gaze shifted from the opposing wall to Valentine when he spoke. It was unsettling. He sounded just like a human. Maccready had always thought the earlier generations would sound more like the robots he was used to.

“When you’re trying to find someone who’s gone missing, the devil is in the details. Tell me everything you can, no matter…” Valentine paused for a moment, as if searching for the right word, “painful it might be.”

Flynn nodded. He could not see her face from where he was standing, but he could see from the way her shoulders were slumped that ‘painful’ was the right word.

She took a deep breath before speaking, “We’re looking for an infant named Shaun. He was my neighbors’ son. I have no idea why someone would want to take him.”

“That’s a good question,” Valentine said, “Why an infant? They require lots of care, so this isn’t just some run of the mill kidnapping. What else can you tell me.”

“They had to take him from his father. He wouldn’t let them take them. He fought back as best he could, and uh… they shot him,” MacCready could hear her voice getting noticeably weaker. He shifted, unsure whether he should go comfort her. He trusted her more than almost anyone else at this point, but he did not know if they were close enough for that. He recalled the glassy look on her face the few times they had talked about the vault.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to say anymore,” the secretary, Ellie said.

“So we’re talking about a group of cold-hearted killers, but they waited until something went wrong to resort to violence. That and the fact that it was an infant that was taken confirms it. This isn’t a random kidnapping. Whoever took him had an agenda,” he deduced.

MacCready wondered if the mechanical brain helped him come to that conclusion so quickly.

“Hmm… There’s a lot of groups in the Commonwealth who take people,” he continued, “Raiders, super mutants, the Gunners, and of course, there’s the Institute.”

“Well, it definitely was not super mutants, and they were too quick, clean, and professional to be raiders,” Flynn explained.

“And it definitely sounds like a job the Gunners would take, but they wouldn’t decide to do that on their own,” MacCready interjected.

“Which leaves the Institute,” she sighed, “Do you really think they're responsible?”

“Well, they’re the boogeyman of the Commonwealth. Something goes wrong, everyone blames them. Easy to see why. Those early models are a force of nature, or science rather. Killing anything that gets in their way. Then you have the newer models that are as good as human. Pulling strings from the shadows. And no one knows why they do it, what their plans are, or where they are. Not even me,” Valentine explained. MacCready was not sure how much he bought the fact that Valentine did not do anything. He hoped he was not lying.

Flynn shook her head, “Either way we need to focus on Shaun.”

“You’re right. All this speculation is getting us off topic. Let’s focus on what you saw. What did these kidnappers look like?” he asked.

“You’ll, uh, need to take this with a grain of salt. I was… I was stuck in a cryostasis pod, and the glass was foggy,” she warned, “There were three people there, I think, but I only saw two. One was wearing a hazmat suit, so I couldn’t see her face or anything. The man on the other hand, I did see his face. He was bald, and I think he had a scar on the left side of his face.”

“Wait,” he said, his expression suddenly changing, “It couldn’t be… You didn’t hear the name “Kellogg” at all, did you?”

“Uh, I don't think so? Why?”

“It’s way too big of a coincidence. Ellie, what notes do we have about the Kellogg case?”

“The description matches,” she said, looking through her notes, “Bald head. Scar. Reputation for dangerous mercenary work, but no one knows who his employer is.”

“I doubt it’s the Gunners. I’d recognize the name,” MacCready blurted.

“Which doesn’t help matters,” Valentine sighed, “Anyway, he bought a house here in town, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, that’s right. The house in the abandoned West Stands. The boy with him was around ten years old.”

“He had a kid with him? That’s not reassuring,” Flynn groaned.

“No kidding. Whether it’s another kidnaped kid, or his own. Either way they left a while ago, but the house is still there. Why don’t we take a walk over there? See if we can figure out where he went.”

“Alright,” She said standing up and turning to MacCready and Piper, “Why don’t you two wait in the market or something? We’ll come get you when, and if, we find anything. I think all of us going up there will cause a bit of a scene.”

“You’re not taking Dogmeat with you again?” MacCready asked. Part of him hoped they would not be including Piper anymore. He was already getting tired of the suspicious ways she glared at him.

Flynn frowned at him, “I was talking about you and Piper. Besides, I am taking Dogmeat with me. Might need his nose.”

“Whatever you say, Boss,” he sighed. He knew there was no point in arguing. There were more important things they needed to get done.

Together they all left Valentine’s cramped office. Instead of heading directly to the market, he leaned against a wall, and watched Flynn, Valentine, and Dogmeat ascend the stairs.

He noticed that Piper had not wandered off either.

“Can I help you with anything?” he asked sarcastically.

“You’re a merc, aren’t you?” she asked. He could hear the judgement in her voice. He was more than used to it at this point.

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah, I am. Why do you give a f- why do you care?”

“Because I don’t understand why you two are traveling together. She’s the general of the Minutemen, isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” he said simply.

“So, why is she traveling with a mercenary?”

“Because she hired me, pays me well, and I do a damn good job of watching her back,” he scoffed, turning to the market. He wondered if he could buy any stimpaks off of the doctor.

“Shouldn’t she be traveling with one of her Minutemen?” she demanded as she followed him into the market.

“Maybe,” he shrugged, “but she doesn’t want to spread everyone too thin, and we aren’t here on Minuteman business.”

“But-”

MacCready cut her off, “Look, I get you aren’t thrilled about having to work alongside a fu- damn merc, but I’m not going to go anywhere. Take your issues up with the Boss.”

She pursed her lips, but did not say anything more. He knew at this point she was probably invested in where this was all going, given she was a reporter. It was going to be an interesting story, he could not exactly blame her for sticking around.

She walked off to where who he assumed was her sister was, selling her news articles. He walked over to the doctor to try to buy some stimpaks off of him.

Just as he finished up bartering with the doctor Dogmeat went bounding past him being followed by Flynn and Valentine.

“We gotta go!” was all she said as they ran past. He pocketed the stimpaks as he took off after them. Despite what he had hoped, Piper followed them as they ran past.

Neither Nick nor Flynn offered any explanation as to what was happening until Dogmeat stopped running, and started sniffing around at a pond just outside of Diamond City.

”When we searched Kellogg’s house we didn’t find anything but some of his old belongings, so we’re using Dogmeat to track his scent to find him,” Valentine explained.

“Makes sense to me,” MacCready said, panting slightly. He really needed to stop smoking.

“Another one of his stogies,” Flynn muttered while picking up a cigar. Her face wore a steely expression. This was more than focus. MacCready had seen her focused on taking down raiders and Gunners, but this was different. This was personal. As personal as taking down Winlock and Barnes, but he had no idea what was going through her head.

She held out the cigar for Dogmeat to smell, and he took off again. She ran after him wordlessly. She barely reacted when they were ambushed by molerats, but there was a flicker of pure anger on her face when they found a group of dead bodies. They looked like raiders, but there was no way to be sure. That look she had made him glad he was on her side.

“Do you think Kellogg did this?” Piper asked, voicing his thoughts for him.

“If it was, it was pretty irresponsible for him to leave this behind,” Valentine responded, picking up a swath of bloody bandages.

I thought he was supposed to be a professional, he thought, as Dogmeat picked up Kellogg’s scent.

When they got up they were met by a pack of feral mongrels, which were more of a nuisance than anything else. MacCready always felt a little bad having to deal with them. He wondered how many were just abandoned pets. Then a yao guai attacked. He felt bad about killing it, because he knew they wouldn’t be able to get the meat. A waste in his eyes. It was better than having to live off of molerat.

“He really chose the path of most resistance, didn’t he?” Valentine quipped as they fought their way through a pack of ferals.

MacCready would have responded, but he was more focused on keeping the ferals off of him and Flynn. He hated them so much. He hated the way they moved, and he hated the noises they made.

“Mac,” a voice said, tearing him from his thoughts, “we gotta keep going.”

He looked up at Flynn. There was a different worry on her face. He glared at the dead feral one last time before running to catch up with the others. They had gotten a fair ways away.

“Damn,” he said when he finally caught up. The dead body of a woman, an innocent trader probably, lay next to a completely dismantled protectron. The goods she had been hauling were strewn across the broken pavement. On the opposite side of the road a heavily damaged assaultron was barely online.

“Alert: critical signs,” it repeated over and over.

“Do you think Kellogg did this?” Piper asked. Her voice was quiet with horror.

“Identity confirmed. Tracking known mercenary Kellogg…” the assaultron answered.

“Bastard,” Flynn cursed as she picked up the cigar that had been discarded next to it. Her steely expression was slowly forming into anger. He could see bits of frustration working their way in.

“We’re going to find him, Boss.”

She simply nodded in response, before they took off again. They stumbled upon another wad of bloody bandages and a herd of radstags. He was starting to wonder if he was leaving the bandages behind on purpose.

MacCready glanced at his watch. They had been chasing down Kellogg for a little over two hours at this point. As they ran into a crumbling town MacCready was about to suggest they take a break. If Kellogg was as much of a threat as he was made out to be, they were going to need all of the energy they could get. Just as he was about to say something, he noticed Dogmeat was leading them to a large building with live turrets on the roof. Luckily he was not the only one to notice.

Flynn quickly shrugged off her bag. She had sewn a patch of cloth onto her bag to look like a pocket. In reality it was just a flap to cover a handful of grenades clipped to the side of her bag.

“How good are you at throwing things?” she asked Valentine and Piper.

“Probably better than most,” Valentine responded.

“Unless you want me to help break down the wall, I’ll pass,” Piper said.

Flynn nodded, handing Valentine a grenade. Together they lobbed the grenades forward. Both hit their marks. She threw a third, which destroyed the final turret.

The moment it was a pile of scrap metal Dogmeat was on the move. He led them up the steps of the building to a barricaded front door. He stopped and started barking.

“I think we’ve found where he is,” Valentine said.

She nodded. She bent down to pet Dogmeat and to tell him how well he did. When she straightened back up she reminded him of when she had first introduced herself, except angrier.

“Then we’ll find a way in. I think there is an entrance to a parking garage on the side of the building we came from. We should start looking there,” she said. She sounded like she did when she gave orders at The Castle.

She led them down to the parking garage, and found that she was right. There was an unblocked door that led directly into the building.

The moment he walked into the building, MacCready was met with the sound of more turrets. He groaned quietly. Flynn was going to run out of grenades at this rate.

There were stairs to their left, and a door right in front of them. Dogmeat immediately went to the door. Flynn went to open it, but it would not open.

“Damn. It’s chained,” she explained.

They carefully made their way up the stairs instead, following Dogmeat. MacCready marveled at how smart he was.

On the second landing there was a terminal, a protectron unit, and a set of doors. One of the doors was hanging off of the frame. Flynn approached the terminal. MacCready assumed it was to try to disengage the turrets, but immediately stopped when they all heard robotic voices. They were not the typical robots.

“Gen twos,” Piper whispered.

Neither MacCready or Flynn knew enough about the Institute to question her. Flynn nodded at him to poke around with his rifle, and see if he could take down a few.

He took one step forward when they heard one of voices say, “An enemy may be utilizing stealth.”

He looked at Flynn, waiting to see what she wanted to do. She looked at Valentine, unsure what to do.

“You cannot remain undetected for long,” the voice said. This time it was accompanied by the sound of footsteps. He watched as her face morphed to say, ‘Fuck it.’ He immediately got the memo, and moved to let her go in front of him, the way they had fought together over the past month. The others quickly caught on to the plan.

Together, guns ablazing, they cleared out the floor. It was crawling with synths. MacCready was impressed that Valentine’s guess that the Institute was somehow involved was right. Their suspicions that Kellogg was there were also correct, as the synths kept talking about him.

When all the synths and turrets were dealt with, Dogmeat led them to an elevator.

“I hope this old thing can hold all of us,” Flynn muttered. She pressed the call button.

MacCready watched as she awkwardly played with the collar of her vault suit. The nerves were finally getting to her. Part of him wanted to say something to reassure her, but the elevator dinged and opened before he could even open his mouth.

They took the elevator down to the lower level where they had originally tried to enter. They followed Dogmeat deeper into the building destroying every turret, trap, and synth that got in their way. Eventually they arrived at a door with a tension trigger.

As MacCready knelt down to disarm it a voice came over an intercom.

“Well, if it isn’t my old friend, the frozen TV dinner. Last time we met you were cozying up to the peas and apple cobbler,” it taunted.

“Was that him?” Flynn asked, turning to Piper and Valentine. Her voice was a mixture of anger, determination, and, although it was barely noticeable, worry.

“Yeah,” said Valentine.

When he disengaged the trigger, he turned and looked up at Flynn. Her face Looked exactly like her tone.

“We’re going to take him down, Boss,” he said, trying to comfort her.

She did not acknowledge him. Instead she put her steely face back on, and followed Dogmeat. That worried him. He did not want to see her fall down a hole like that. Taking down raiders and Gunners was one thing. It was the right thing to do. Something like this, however, it was a slippery slope due to all the emotions.

Kellogg continued to taunt her, as they drew closer and closer. He was not sure what to make of her lack of reaction. She never got like this when the raiders or whatever bad guys taunted her. She always taunted them back.

Eventually they got to what looked like Kellogg’s makeshift bedroom. On the opposite side of the room there was a security door with the locks engaged.

Before any of them walked in MacCready blocked the door. He wanted to do his best to keep her from going down that dark road, but he knew she would not listen otherwise. It was his job to keep her safe.

“What are you doing?” she asked impatiently. Valentine and Piper gave him a quizzical look.

“Before you properly face him down, you need to listen to me, Boss,” he explained.

She looked at him expectantly.

He took a deep breath, “Look, I know you are no stranger to taking down the bad guy, but this is not some random raider boss. You’re doin’ this for more personal reasons. This stuff can fu- can mess up your head. I’m just making sure you don’t let him get in your head.”

“He’s not wrong,” Valentine agreed, “I’ve seen this stuff ruin good people.”

She stared up at MacCready, and sighed, “I’m not letting him, and I’m not going to let him get in my head. I promise.”

He believed her, or at least he believed that she was not going to let her anger get the better of her. He stepped aside and let everyone in.

As soon as Flynn approached the security door Kellogg’s voice came on the intercom again, but this time it was not to taunt her.

“Okay. You made it. I’m just up ahead. My synths are standing down. Let’s talk,” he said, and the door swung open.

She glanced behind her shoulder at them all, and nodded. She switched her pistol for her shotgun, and headed through the door.

As they entered the command center the lights dramatically switched on. Kellogg walked out into the open with his arms raised above his head. A synth stood to his right behind him. MacCready noticed another behind them in the corner near the door.

“There she is,” Kellogg said, “The most resilient woman in the Commonwealth.”

“Where’s the kid?” Flynn demanded. Dogmeat stopped right at her side, ready to pounce at a moment’s notice.

“You mean Shaun? He’s a good kid. A bit older than you last saw him, but I think you know that by now. You’re not going to find him,” he said cooly. The calmness of his voice sent a shiver down MacCready’s back.

“Don’t you think you’ve underestimated me enough?” She said, leveling her gun.

“I’m not underestimating you. At least not now. You aren’t going to find him, because he is in the Institute. His home.”

“The Institute? As if that’s going to stop me. I’ll find him, wherever he is,” her words sounded like a promise.

“You know, more people should act like you. You’re acting the way I would hope to if I was in your shoes. But I think we’ve been talking for long enough. You know how this has to end,” he said, almost completely emotionless.

“Fuck you, Kellogg.”

She shot him twice in the chest before he could even raise his revolver. The two synths fell almost as quickly.

MacCready turned from the synth he had just gunned down to where Flynn was standing over Kellogg’s dead body. She had a look of defeat on her face.

“You did the right thing. He wasn’t going to talk,” he said. He did not get a response for her.

“‘Kidnapper and Murder Gets His Brains Blown Out By One Of His Only Surviving Victims.’ It would be a great headline if we still didn’t have one of the biggest mysteries in the Commonwealth to solve,” Piper sighed.

“Gets his brains blown out… hmmm,” Valentine said before MacCready could turn to glare at Piper.

“What?” Piper asked.

“His brains. A man like him would know how to get into the Institute,” he explained.

“But like I said, he wasn’t going to talk,” MacCready said.

“And I don’t feel like opening a portal to Hell,” Flynn muttered.

“I’m not talking about the paranormal. There’s a place called the Memory Den in Goodneighbor. They specialize in memories, and the doctor there is an expert on brains.”

“I know the place. I’ve never been there myself, but I’m pretty sure they need the people to be living,” MacCready said.

“We don’t have any other options. You’re going to need me to introduce you to the doctor, and I need to go there anyway.”

Flynn finally looked up at them and flatly said, “I’m not dragging a dead body all the way to Goodneighbor.”

Under different circumstances MacCready would have laughed, but the broken tone of her voice curbed any laughter.

“All we need is his brain.”

“Nick, that’s disgusting,” Piper said, gagging slightly.

“We could probably use one of the medkit boxes…” Flynn muttered.

“Seriously?” Piper and MacCready demanded.

She ignored them, and focused on Valentine, “Do you think you’re going to be able to do anything about this?”

Realizing that they were going to actually go through with it, MacCready turned around. He was fine with different bullet wounds, but when violence was taken to this level he had a weak stomach. It just reminded him of the horrible things mutants and ferals do. Dogmeat must have sensed his discomfort, as he pressed himself against his leg. He heard them shuffle around, and then the sickening crunch of the skull cracking. He heard other disgusting noises as they did whatever they were doing.

“What the hell?” he heard Flynn exclaim.

“Cybernetics,” Valentine explained, “We just hit the jackpot.”

He heard the snapping shut of a plastic container, before Valentine said, “I’m going to poke around in that terminal.”

After a few moments the security doors swung open.

MacCready did turn around, as he did not want to see the carnage. He asked over his shoulder, “Find anything.”

“Just that he wasn’t lying.”

Flynn sighed, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

As she walked past him, he reached out and squeezed her arm gently. Physical affection was not something that existed between them, but he wanted to do something to comfort her. She did not jump or pull away. She simply stared at his hand. When she looked at him, he tried to give her a sympathetic look before he let go.

They all walked to the nearest elevator, and piled in. It opened into a room on the roof. A security door was on the other side of the room with a terminal right next to it. MacCready heard an odd noise coming from outside, and he could not quite place it. Flynn used the terminal to open the door, and he was the first to step outside. Immediately his eyes flew to the hills, and found the source of the noise.

“Son of a….”

The Brotherhood of Steel’s airship was coming in over the hills surrounded by vertibirds.

“I don’t believe it,” Piper exclaimed.

As the airship sailed overhead a voice boomed from it, “People of the Commonwealth. Do not interfere. Our intentions are peaceful. We are the Brotherhood of Steel.”

Together they stood there in shocked silence as they watched it sail toward Boston.

“Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing.”

Valentine’s words hung in the air, giving it a chill.

It took another moment before Flynn finally spoke up, “What. The. Hell.”

“I dunno, Boss, but it certainly isn’t good.”

“I hope I don’t have to deal with that too,” she sighed before leading the way off of the roof.

#violence warning #fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #maccready #nick valentine #fanfiction #fanfic #piper wright #sole survivor #claudia flynn

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writerbyaccident · 5 years

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Fate (Yandere Izuku MidoriyaxReader)

Request: Can you write a bit where villain! deku is taking a civilian or weaker hero hostage, and maybe flirting with them a bit? Thank u <3

Part Two

There were some days when you really hated your job. Working at a bank wasn’t really anyone’s dream job (at least, no one that you wanted to know), but working at one in such a busy city was especially heinous. You swore that every other day some two-bit villain trying to make a name for themselves found their way into your place of work, thinking that just because they had a moderately strong quirk that they could get away with robbing you blind. It was utterly routine for you at this point, and honestly, you got more annoyed at the attempts now than afraid. A hero would always show up sooner or later, and you had survived so many of these encounters without a scratch on you that you saved your concern solely for your customers. But today, today things were different. Today, you thought to yourself distantly, you should probably set aside some concern for yourself.

This time it wasn’t just some hack villain or overly-ambitious criminal that stood before you. No, this time it was Deku. He looked just like the pictures and clips of him that you had caught on the news, immaculately dressed in a white button-down shirt, a black vest and tie decorating it, black dress pants, and a pair of obsessively clean dress shoes. Green hair was combed smooth with the appearance of something that was naturally more chaotic and a smattering of freckles made him look deceptively innocent. His eyes though were something that the news footage had failed to capture properly. They were bright green, possessing an unnatural luster to them. The feeling you got looking into them was that they were somehow crawling in your head, devouring everything it found there as if your memories and secrets were prey. Really, you realized as Deku grinned at you, he just looked too eager.

“Well,” he chuckled, as if the two of you were sharing a private joke, “it certainly seems like you know the drill.” It was true, as soon as he had entered with his goons you had told the customers to cooperate, getting the ones still in shock to sit down on the shining marble floor. You only nodded in response though, heart stuck in your throat, keeping any words you might have used firmly inside. “Though, I should remind you, you even try to use your quirk and I’ll kill you before you can blink.”

“I—I don’t have a quirk,” you stammered. At your confession, Deku’s smile only grew, though now it seemed to take on a hue of genuine interest. You had caught his attention and not just as a target.

“That, now that is perfect,” he exclaimed with dark joy. “You know, I stopped believing in fate when I was a kid, but something like this makes you wonder. I mean, a cute little hostage like you turning out to be quirkless? Do you believe in soulmates by any chance?” You just stared back at him blankly, unable to tell if he was serious or not.

“Aw,” he cooed in a surprisingly soothing manner, “aren’t you a shy one? It’s okay, I used to be that way too.” Staring at him, you wondered why he was being so talkative with you. Was he like this on all of his jobs? But your thoughts were interrupted, when Deku suddenly slammed his hands on the counter that separated the two of you, nimbly lifting himself up and hopping over so that he stood right in front of you. You tried to back away, but before you could make much progress, Deku wrapped one arm around your waist, pulling you towards him. Once he secured you firmly against himself, so close that you could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, he leaned down towards your ear.

“You want to know why I stopped being like that though? It’s cause, one day, I learned something. I learned that no one is going to give you what you want. You have to take it,” he whispered.

“And what is it that you want? To hurt people who’ve done nothing to you?” you asked bitterly, startled into talking without really thinking. “Cause that’s all I see you doing.” Deku let go of you at that, removing his arm but then placing his hand around your chin, tilting it upwards so that you were forced to look right into his eyes. Humming absentmindedly while he scrutinized you with a slight smirk on his face, Deku was silent for a moment.

“That’s not what I want,” he muttered, a flash of something dark and burning peering into you from his eyes. Deku started to lean towards you again, and you noticed with alarm that he seemed to be aiming for your lips. Instinctually, without considering what the consequences might be, you pushed him away. Deku stumbled back, caught off guard by your sudden movement.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you spat at him. With his head bowed, you couldn’t see his eyes when you said that, but you could see the way his mouth twisted.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Deku said, his voice sounding oddly choked. “I wasn’t gonna hurt you, you know.” Lifting up his head, you saw that his face had become somewhat flushed, and were those tears gathering in his eyes? He stepped towards you, and afraid of what he might do, you spoke again.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” you cried, “I shouldn’t have done that.” Once you apologized, Deku’s entire demeanor changed again. The tears in his eyes disappeared quickly and he broke out into such a genuinely bright smile that you felt blinded by the sudden shift.

“Aren’t you sweet? It’s alright dear, I forgive you,” he soothed you, reaching out and gently stroking your cheek with his thumb. After a moment though, one of his lackeys called out to him, shouting that they had finished loading all of the money. Soon after that, you heard the sound of approaching sirens.

“Right on time,” Deku sighed, sounding sincerely disappointed. “I’m afraid that I have to cut things short darling, but don’t worry, I’ll see you soon.” And with that, he left, taking his goons and his new supply of cash with him.

The rest of the day was fairly average for one that included a robbery; you got a desperately needed drink of water, checked on your coworkers, and gave your statement to the police. You told them everything Deku had said to you, but they didn’t think much of it. Reassuring you that he had only been trying to give you an extra scare, the police told you that you were free to go home and that they’d be in contact soon. You left the bank, though you didn’t go straight home. No, after the ordeal you just had, you decided that you had earned an early drink, and so stopped at a bar before taking the bus back to your apartment. By the time you staggered to your door, unlocking it with uncoordinated movements, the creepy way that Deku had singled you out was just a dim recollection at the back of your mind. At that point, it was far too easy to agree with the police, that it had all meant nothing and you could move on with you life. That is, until you saw the single crimson rose that had been left on your bed.

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kikiofthevast · 4 years

Text

Suits You

CW: Mentioned past major character death (not permanent or real don't worry), implied past human experimentation, spoilers for SDR2, DRAE, DR3, and SDR2.5, implied body modification/self-mutilation, mention of brainwashing

Pairings: A hint of Komahina

Summary: Nagito and Hajime have a little talk on the way to the Future Foundation Headquarters.

Or: The author thinks that Hajime Hinata looks good in a suit and projects this onto the DR characters.

Did I read a bunch of Wikipedia the free online encyclopedia that anyone can edit articles on how Japanese honorifics and address works so I can make my dialogue realistic? Maybe. Is my dialogue still probably wrong? Yes.

Also stuff I used to my advantage in this fic: The bullshit nature of the Analyst talent, the gratuitous amount of time between SDR2 and DR3, and Izuru's existing knowledge of the events of Despair Side.

Also also see if you can guess what Hajime's reply would have been before Mikan cut him off.

Ao3

---

Hajime leaned forward against the railing of the ship as it sailed on the ocean. The sight of the sunset was rather beautiful, even if it was like any other. The ship's motion also was a nice rhythm to focus on, even if it was a little dull.

"Nice view, isn't it?" Komaeda said, making Hajime jump a little, and he turned to see the Ultimate Lucky Student smiling at him.

"It gets a little repetitive after a while, but yeah, I guess it is." Hajime turned back in the direction of the setting sun, as Komaeda moved over to stand next to him.

"Souda-san finished the arm, and Tsumugi-san helped with the attachment," Komaeda said in his usual casual tone, raising the robotic arm and flexing his fingers. "It fits very comfortably, as to be expected of two Ultimates.

"Glad you like it," Hajime replied.

Komaeda got a strange look on his face, and Hajime suddenly knew where this was going. He continued, "While he was working on it, he also told me how you shut down the simulation. I have to say, Hinata-san, I never realized you had such true hope within you!"

And there it was.

"I-it was nothing, really, I just...trusted in the future. And it was mostly Nanami."

"Ohhh, don't be so modest! If I had known you would have done and said all of that, I would have stuck around! It was my fault really, I should have had more hope in you all-!"

"Nagito."

Komaeda-or Nagito-reeled a little, blinking a bit at Hajime.

"Hinata..." Nagito spoke carefully. "Do you consider us...friends?"

Hajime looked away and tried to keep his voice from shaking. "Well, despite how you try to put yourself below us, you're an Ultimate too. If anyone doesn't belong here, it's me. A Reserve Course Student that became a talented person because of a few surgeries. But here, right now, you and I are equals. I may have talents that you don't but we are standing here.

"We were both attendees of Hope's Peak, no matter the circumstances, and we were both manipulated by Junko Enoshima to do her bidding as Ultimate Despair. We both involved ourselves in Towa City, we both went into the Neo World Program, and we both helped to stop it.

"We worked together in the Program, even after you realized our true identities, and you helped us start to realize the truth of the world. So yes, Nagito Komaeda, we are friends."

There was silence between them for a long moment.

Eventually Nagito cracked a weak smile and said, "Wow, is that what you think of me Hajime? You make me sound like some kind of hero!"

Hajime let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "I wouldn't call what you did in Towa City heroism," he joked, and Nagito laughed.

"I don't recall you being in Towa City. Did you poke around in my head before getting me out of the program?"

The remarks and jokes they were making so lightly didn't seem like they would be good in a normal environment, but then again, none of this was normal.

"I spent some time watching, didn't really do anything other than that. I regret it sometimes but...it's in the past. And no, I can promise nobody rifled through your mind before we got you out, even if Souda wanted to." He said the last part with a smile and Nagito matched it with a more genuine one than his previous, weaker smile.

"Good, I would hate to have to explain what I lived in the Program. Did you make that Alter Ego? The World Destroyer, he called himself?"

Hajime went back to looking at Nagito directly. "Yeah, I did. It seemed like he did a good job of freeing you, even from the deepest layer of the Program."

"Well, he was certainly similar to Izuru Kamukura, he had a very straightforward and violent approach to getting me out."

"Huh, I don't actually know what he did to get everyone out. But I guess it's none of my business."

The silence between them was less tense than before, more companionable.

Nagito's face eventually grew serious, and he asked the question Hajime was sure everyone had wanted to ask him.

"Are you sure about this?"

Hajime took a deep breath and Nagito quickly backpedaled, almost instinctively.

"I know you've probably thought about all of the possibilities already, and I know that you've explained all of the reasons we should do this multiple times but I-"

Hajime held up a hand. "Nagito, it's alright. Really."

Another easy smile formed on Nagito's face. "No, I understand, I understand. Forget I said anything."

"No, Nagito. You're allowed to have concerns. I understand that not everybody can predict all outcomes of a situation." A wry smile crept onto his face as he spoke. "All I can ask you to do is trust me. Based on the information Naegi gave us, the Future Foundation is expecting the return of the 78th class members and will likely arrest at the very least Naegi and hold trial. There is also a high likelihood that the Foundation has been infiltrated and that Mitarai's despair video is the cause. Chisa Yukisome was a victim of the video, so she may have shown it to other members of the Foundation. I'm certain that whoever has seen the video in the Foundation has likely set up another killing game of sorts with the use of Mitarai's video to push him over the edge and convince him to utilize a video he created to cultivate hope in the same way the previous one was used to cultivate despair and we have to stop him from spreading it to the world, because as his classmates we are the only ones who can talk him down."

A beat of silence. Nagito was staring at him, eyes wide.

Hajime suddenly looked sheepish and the spell was broken. "Or at least, that's what I think."

"Well," Nagito said, "I guess that makes some sort of sense. I'll trust you on that. Although," there was a sparkle in his eye, "if it doesn't, you owe me 20 Monocoins."

"Wh-"

"Uh-um!"

Both boys turned to see Tsumiki, who was bowing and she pointed toward the area of the inner ship she had just come from.

"Um, Souda wants you to know that, uh, we'll be there soon!"

Hajime bit back a remark about how he had already figured out when they would arrive and just smiled. "Thank you for the notice."

Tsumiki smiled and waved before moving back in. Hajime and Nagito waited for a moment before the inevitable crash and cry sounded from within and it really didn't take a talent for analysis to realize what had happened.

Their previous conversation forgotten, Hajime put his hands down on the railing and Nagito smiled at him.

"Well, even if it's like before, I should go make sure that Tsumiki is okay."

"Yeah," Hajime replied, staring out at the water again, suddenly unable to look at Nagito.

He heard Nagito start to walk away. Then he stopped, and added a thought that Hajime never could've predicted, and that made him blush and grip the rail of the boat harder.

"You look good in a suit, by the way."

And then he was gone.

#danganronpa #super danganronpa goodbye despair #goodbye despair #hajime hinata #nagito komaeda #mikan tsumiki #tw: implied violence #tw: human experimentation

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