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hyunverse · 4 years

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BUNGA (FLOWER) | FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

gender neutral.

summary; you’re megumi’s dream person.

note; i wrote this bcs my birth name is actually a type of flower ugh the self indulgence also i like butterflies. also inspired by a song called bunga by masdo. i recommend listening to the song while reading. bunga means flower in malay!! also pls open the gif for better quality.

YOU REMIND MEGUMI OF A FLOWER. white orchids; they symbolize purity. and that’s exactly what you are to him.

fushiguro megumi remembers this one day when he and tsumiki had went to a flower garden together. he didn’t know why tsumiki suddenly felt like visiting a garden, but he followed anyway. he observed as his sister looked at the flowers around them, a smile never leaving her face and her eyes were practically sparkling. it felt nice to see his sister actually enjoy herself, especially after their parents got up and abandoned them, leaving tsumiki with all the house chores.

“look at all these flowers!”, tsumiki caressed the petals with her fingers, thumb gently gliding over the flowers, “they look so nice, don’t you think so megumi?”

megumi didn’t reply, he opted to stand beside his older sister. tsumiki explained the symbolisms of the flowers she knew of. the raven head looked stoic, as if he wasn’t listening to any of her words but the truth is, he was. he found the symbolism behind the white orchids particularly interesting. it suited the orchids’ physical appearance. white and innocence just made sense.

as the siblings chatted (though it technically was one sided on tsumiki’s part), a cat walked towards the duo. the ball of orange fur purred and nudged it’s head on tsumiki’s legs, immediately getting the teenage girl’s attention. she kneeled down, her previous smile growing wider.

petting the cat, she looked up at her younger brother, “aren’t cats so adorable?”.

“yeah,” megumi uttered. a lie. he wasn’t a big fan of cats, he found them annoying. dogs are better, that’s what he believed in but he didn’t have the heart to say that to his sister. not when she looks the happiest she had been in a while.

“and the weather’s really nice today!”, she added, eyes glancing up at the sky. the sun was glaring right into her eyes, so her pupils shrunk. she didn’t mind however, she had always loved sunny days. the sunlight shone right above their heads, and megumi didn’t like it. he could feel drops of sweat trickling down his back, causing his shirt to cling onto his skin. megumi much prefers when it’s cloudy, shades of grey in the sky, the perfect weather for staying at home and reading books.

even so, he just nodded, “mhm.”

shortly the sun started to set, spreading orange hues throughout the sky. flocks of birds returned to their nests, and so the fushiguro siblings made their way back to their abode. on their way tsumiki stole glances at her brother, letting out a dry chuckle everytime she notices the lack of expression on his face.

“you should smile more you know, megumi”, she ruffled his erratic hair, “you won’t get much friends if you keep on frowning like that”, she teased.

he grumbled, “i don’t care if i don’t have friends.”

megumi thought it was ridiculous. why would it matter, anyway? he’s fine being alone. people are bothersome; they’re too loud and they stress him out. especially the stupid punks in school who thinks they could do whatever they want. megumi simply shrugged and pushed his sister’s words out of his mind. scratch smiling and being likeable.

yet here he is, smiling at you. over no particular reason too.

currently, he’s walking along a beach with you. you; dressed up in a white sundress, a pair of sandals in your right hand. the sand burns under fushiguro’s feet but he couldn’t feel it over the fast thumping of his heart, he couldn’t feel the heat when his whole skin is tingling. he trolls behind you, walking over the footsteps you made. your sundress flows to the rhythm of your walk, flying slightly up when the wind blows your way, exposing the plush skin of your thighs. fushiguro looks away from your figure, his fair complexion tinted with blush.

you’re his best friend, he’s not supposed to look at you like that.

“it’s so nice here, megumi!”, you call out to him as you stand at the edge of the sea. waves crash, they trickle up to your toes. with a smile you hold up your hand for megumi to hold.

bashfully, megumi walks up to you and takes your hand in his. he’s reluctant, for he dislikes his hands. they’re cold and filled with callouses. so when you grip his hand as though you didn’t intend to let go, when your thumb rubs against his, he feels less insecure of his hands. the sensation of your hand in his is hot, it burns; however it feels nice.

megumi fushiguro hates warmth, but if it’s your warmth, he’d enjoy burning in heat.

the sand by the sea doesn’t feel hot on your feet. the waves get bigger and bigger; till they reach up to your ankles. you giggle because it tickled, the sound of your laughs reaching megumi’s ears. he turns to his side to see you crouching down, collecting the water in your hands.

that’s when megumi concluded, your whole existence screams purity.

a week later megumi meets you again. sometime at 11pm, by an oak tree—your usual meeting spot. the oak tree is large, it’s impossible to miss it. you stand under the oak tree, allowing dried leaves to fall onto your head, getting stuck in your hair. you know megumi would get all the leaves out of your hair. he does it everytime. he’ll pick out all the leaves out of your hair while lecturing you, though his words enter one ear then out from another. no matter how many times he says “i can’t do this all the time”, even he himself knows he would.

from afar megumi watches his best friend run around the flower field, chasing butterflies. your hair gets swept away by the wind as your hands stretch up to the sky, desperately trying to get a butterfly to land on your hand. you’re wearing a jumpsuit, the white color of the material truly brought out your skin tone. your complexion is glistening, and it makes megumi’s heart throb.

“they’re scared of you, y/n,” he finally says, putting both your hands down. the butterflies fly away from your sight, and you pout.

“but they’re so pretty,” you sigh, watching as the butterflies choose to fly anywhere but on your fingers. and then one lands on top of megumi’s shoulder.

your eyes widen, holding the sides of megumi’s figure to make him stay still. megumi could see sparks in your eyes when you admire the blue butterfly. soft is the expression you wear on your face. he likes it on you. that cute expression of yours makes megumi fall five times harder for you even when he knows he shouldn’t.

“you’re like a flower ‘gumi. it likes you.”

ridiculous, he thinks. you’re the flower. it’s obvious by the way your body moves under the moonlight, and how insanely beautiful you are.

fushiguro megumi doesn’t say anything in return, as always. he rarely does. if possible, he wants to avoid you from finding out just how in love he is with you.

after that day, you never show up under the oak tree, a few minutes distance from jujutsu high. he’ll wait for hours long only to be disappointed.

--at least not until his birthday comes, about a few months later. his face turns pale once he spotted you. you wait by the jujutsu high gate with a wide smile on his face, as if you didn’t ghost him for three months.

"glad to see you doing okay," the apple of your cheeks seem more prominent when you smile, megumi feels an urge to kiss them.

"i haven't seen you in so long," megumi mumbles, "happy to see you here today."

you grin and hold up your hand for him to take per usual, and didn’t mutter anymore words until the two of you reach a café in the outskirts of tokyo.

“nice café,” the raven comments , glancing at you. you’re wearing a puffy sleeved white blouse now—honestly, do you only own white clothes?

“found it on instagram”, you mutter, “i thought you’d like it. happy birthday, megumi.”

megumi smiles for the first time today. as a jazz song plays, he eats the birthday cake you purchased for him quietly. the cake tastes delicious (to be fair, anything you buy him is perfect) because it’s not too sweet. the fact that you remember his preference makes his smile grow a little wider.

you hum to the song and rest your head on his shoulder. it seems like the two of you are the only ones in the café—a much needed privacy. you’re usually touchy with him, and he prefers affection to be private. typically they make megumi blush, and he doesn’t want people to witness him all flustered.

“did you miss me, megumi?”, he replies to your question by nodding and placing his hand on top of yours.

serenity is this feeling, megumi thinks.

at the corner of the café stands an antique grandfather clock. it’s sounds are so loud, they resonate the whole environment. megumi suddenly becomes hyper aware of the sound, there’s a pounding in his head. the sound becomes louder and louder, to the point where megumi couldn’t feel your skin under his. he shuts his eyes close, an impossibly bright light glares his eyes.

“fushiguroooo!”, an annoying voice yells. itadori’s voice, megumi is certain.

the pounding in his head slows down. his sapphire eyes flutter open, and he realizes the light he saw was sunlight rays peeking through his blinds.

“seriously fushiguro, we’ve been calling you for an hour now. hurry up, we’re going out to eat in five. to celebrate your birthday”, megumi looks up to see nobara standing behind itadori.

they’re both leaning against his door frame. itadori is dressed in a yellow hoodie, while nobara rocks a coat over a turtleneck. the female sorcerer holds her toy hammer tight in her grip, her eyes boring through megumi’s figure. by her posture, megumi guesses she was about to hit him with the squeaky hammer if only he didn’t wake up sooner.

fucking menaces, they could’ve left him to sleep for a little more. he hasn’t seen you in so long, he wanted to sleep in to spend time with you.

finally rubbing his eyes awake, the boy looks at the vase of orchids sitting on his nightstand. he sighs before standing up.

megumi will find you someday, he promises. if you’re a flower, he’ll gladly be the butterfly.

✉ taglist: @aliteama @dearsukuna @cybergoo @hanniemilk @ariasann @soulasdarkascoffee @okusetomura @eidotheiapriv @maat-the-prescriptive @etoilezone @elipres @scarednekozz @iridescentkitsune @crapimahuman @nectar0sw33t @hq149 @bluedelphinium @bokutos-babyowl @behan @tdntu0 @sunaluvs @guardianangelswings @fairywriter-oracle @inu-makki @erinisbadger

tagging; @candleohappiness , @haru-senji <333

#fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #jjkmag #megumi fluff #fushiguro megumi fluff #megumi imagines #megumi x gn reader #fushiguro megumi imagines #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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hopelesshawks · 3 years

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Basic Instincts Part 23- Deal

18+ Hawks x fem!pro hero reader

Summary: Hawks was your first friend, your first kiss, and your first love. You were the same for him. But you’re not little commission trainees anymore, you’re full fledged pro-heroes now with all the baggage and sacrifice that entails. Things are different now, and when the two of you end up accidentally mated, well… they’re about to get even more different.

Warnings for unprotected sex, handjob, oral (male receiving), light nipple play, light dom/sub themes, light overstimulation, wing kink, and praise kink

Masterlist Help Lulu <3

"You ok Dove?" Keigo asks as he comes up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist. You quickly turn off your phone's screen and toss it aside before spinning in Keigo's arms to look at him properly. You can feel your heart starting to break already but you swallow it down. "I'm fine, just still recovering from worrying about your stupid ass," you lie with a sad smile. "I'm sorry for worrying you," he replies as he nuzzles his nose against yours. "I know... I love you so much Kei," you whisper into the small sliver of air between the two of you. "I love you too," he breathes back and your grips on each other get impossibly tighter. God he'd be so angry if he knew what you'd just agreed to. You hope he'll forgive you eventually.

“Can I preen your wings?” you ask suddenly.

Keigo pulls back surprised to search your eyes as if in disbelief that you’d offer. His wings puff and flutter at the notion before wrapping around you protectively. “I’d love that,” he admits breathlessly. You give him a bright smile, swallowing down the lump in your throat as you instruct him to sit on the bed. He does as asked, pulling his shirt off carefully as he does so, leaving him in just a pair of sweats. You carefully sit down behind him, legs straddled on either side of him, and can’t help but appreciate the sight before you. Keigo is all lithe muscle, everywhere from his shoulders to his lower back toned from years and years of hard training and hero work. Scars litter his body and you can’t help but to reach out and trace the burn marks still left from his infamous run-in with Dabi. He shudders at your gentle touch, as if merely brushing along the scars is enough to send him back into those memories, so you carefully lean forward and place a delicate kiss to the scarred skin. He sighs into it and you watch the muscles slowly lose their tension as he starts to relax.

You reach one hand forward to start at the base of his right wing, gently kneading the taut muscle connecting it to his back before slipping your fingers through the soft downy feathers there. A groan of relief tumbles from his lips unbidden at the feeling and it makes something warm curl up next to the cold dread that’s taken up residence in your heart. Gradually you progress further and further down his wings, the feathers reacting to your every touch. The loose ones fall away under your careful ministrations and soon you hear a gentle coo rumbling through Keigo’s chest as you continue to carefully remove the excess feathers. You’ve always found his wings majestic and although they may be smaller than their usual size, they’re no less awe-inspiring now and you treasure being trusted enough to touch them so intimately. When you finally reach the tip of his right wing you shift your focus to the left, giving it the same delicate attention. “Shit (y/n),” he sighs, his eyes drifting shut as his head falls back against your collar and you continue to carefully stroke through his wing. Once you finish the left wing you press a gentle kiss to the top of his head and wrap your arms around his torso, his abs jumping beneath your touch and his wings twitching and fluttering on either side of you. “You’re so sensitive Kei,” you whisper as one of your hands wanders to one of his already hardened nipples. He hisses slightly as you pinch the sensitive nub and you can see his cock twitch through his sweats.

“(Y/n) I-“

“Shhh, lemme take care of you.”

One hand returns to his wings, gliding through the feathers with care and occasionally raking your nails along them. Keigo shudders against you as you let your other hand slip down his torso and past the waistband of his pants to wrap around his hardened length. Your thumb swipes over the sensitive head of his cock, causing his hips to buck slightly. You use the precum gathered there to ease the gentle glide of your hand around his dick as you start to pump him slowly. You sync the hand stroking his cock with the one stroking his wings and soon Keigo is swearing under his breath, both hands fisting in the sheets as his hips thrust up into your hand. The whole time you whisper sweet nothings and praises into his ear. “You look so pretty like this Kei. My pretty bird. So perfect for me. I love you, I love you so much.” It’s the last night you’ll be able to tell him these things so you’re determined to etch them into his memory so that they remain long after you’re gone. His wings start to spasm as you drive him closer and closer to climax so you speed up both your hands’ motions to drive him there even faster, taking pride in the way he shudders against you and moans your name. “Fuck baby I’m gonna cum,” he keens, hips thrusting up into your fist eagerly eyes squeezed tightly shut in pleasure. “Open your eyes, I wanna watch you fall apart for me,” you command and Keigo is quick to obey. His eyes immediately find yours once he opens them again and the eye contact you make is searing as he cums with a shout, painting his own chest white with sticky ropes of his seed.

You tilt your head to kiss him in reward as you milk him through his orgasm until he’s spent. If you had any intention of ending the night there though Keigo quickly squashes it as he turns in your arms to press a hungry kiss to your lips. It’s intense and all consuming, the bond flaring up in response to the heated exchange to further enhance every sensation. He carefully strips you both down until your naked bodies can press against each other, your arms loop around his neck to pull him closer, grinding up against him. He winces slightly, his dick still sensitive, but you’re determined to show him the best possible last night. You roll over so you’re on top pressing him into the mattress as his hands grasp hold of your hips and immediately you once again reach for his sensitive wings. “You tryna kill me there Dove?” he groans breathlessly as his hips jerk up, dick starting to harden again already. “Maybe a little,” you tease as you continue to run your hands through his feathers. “Careful (y/n), st-still sensitive,” he warns but you only shush him as you start to fist his cock back to full hardness. “Gonna make you feel so good,” you promise, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth before moving down to his neck to suck bruises there.

Each mark you leave stands in stark contrast to the rest of his pale skin as you make a trail down his chest and torso. No matter what happens in the morning Keigo is and always will be yours. If this is your one chance to show the world that then you’ll take it. Only once his neck and chest are covered in your marks do you drop lower, licking a long strip up his cock and drawing a moan from your mate. You’re merciless in your attention, sucking him into your mouth even when he’s still only half hard. He curses and whines above you as you sink down lower and let him gradually harden within the damp cavern of your mouth. Only once he’s fully hard again do you start to bob your head up and down the shaft. Each strangled cry and broken moan you wring from his throat goes straight to your aching core, your own wetness collecting between your legs and threatening to drip down your thighs. But tonight isn’t about you, so you ignore the twitching of your eager pussy in favor of sucking Keigo down as if your very life depends on it. “Gonna cum again,” he warns but that only spurs you on more as you try your hardest to take in even more of his long, thick length. You feel the head of his cock kissing the back of your throat and shortly afterwards you feel his seed pouring down it. You swallow every drop without hesitation, greedy to taste him and savoring every moment.

Again you give him no time to recover, your own neglected sex now aching to be stuffed with your lover’s cock and filled with his seed. He whimpers as you start stroking his dick again. “Fuck Dove, ‘s real sensitive, be careful,” he moans. “Do you want me to stop?” you ask but he shakes his head. “No baby, it’s ok keep going, fuck keep going. I can go again for you,” he practically mumbles and you can’t help but lean down and press the sloppiest kiss to his lips in response. You waste no time lining yourself up and then sinking down on his cock until he’s fully inside you, both of you moaning at the sensation. You experimentally give a little roll of your hips, clenching down around him as you do so, and Keigo’s reaction is immediate, hips thrusting up and curses falling from his lips. “Not gonna last long if you keep that up,” he huffs. “Don’t care, want you to fill me up,” you reply and he can only look up at you in wonder as you start to slowly lift yourself up and then sink back down on his aching cock. Your velvety walls feel like heaven around him as he moves his hands to your waist to help you along. Your eyes never leave his and the ecstasy burns through your emotional connection just as much as it does your physical one. It’s a slow, sensual grind but it still drives you both mad. When Keigo murmurs to you that he’s already getting close again, his over sensitive cock twitching inside you with every move, you just nod and clench around him, emotion swelling within you until tears roll down your cheeks. One of his hands slips from your hip to press circles into your clit. “‘M so close, can’t much longer. G’nna cum baby,” Keigo admits. “Hold out a little longer let’s cum together,” you reply and Keigo nods frantically, his finger lavishing more attention on your puffy bundle of nerves to drive you closer to the brink. The most sinful noises start to drop from your lips as you find the perfect angle to have his cock head brushing along that one spongy spot inside you. By sheer force of will, Keigo manages to hold out long enough to send you tumbling into climax first, but he swiftly follows behind you. As you sob out his name, your vaginal walls clamping and fluttering around his cock, you send him straight into his third orgasm of the night, his balls drawing up tight before releasing their load, painting your insides white with his cum and marking you as his and his alone. He’s not sure when he started crying but his cheeks are certainly wet as you lean down, both your tears and his mingling on your cheeks. “I love you, I love you, I love you so fucking much Kei you have no idea,” you sob as you press your forehead to his. You sound so heartbroken as you say it, as if scared he’s about to slip away, so he pulls you closer and whispers reassurances in your ear that only seem to make you sob harder. “(Y/n) baby, what’s wrong? It’s ok I’m right here, I’ll always be right here,” he promises as your arms wrap tightly around him. “I don’t want to lose you,” you confess. “You won’t,” he promises.

You wish that were true.

Keigo holds you until your sobbing subsides and with final whispered “I love you”s you let him think you’ve slipped into sleep. Between the exertion from his mission and the after effects of Recovery Girl’s quirk, you’re not surprised that his breathing evens out shortly after you’ve supposedly passed out. You still don’t move at first, making absolutely certain that Keigo is asleep before you slip out of his arms. You quickly get redressed before finding a duffel bag to pack up some of your stuff. At the last minute you grab one of the feathers that had fallen off when you were preening him and add it to your bag. You zip it up and heft it onto your shoulder, leaving your apartment keys on the nightstand next to Keigo. You slip out of your bedroom and into the living room, guilt and heartache crawling up your throat as you make your way to the front door. Just before you can leave a figure suddenly looms large in the doorway causing you to jump.

“Jesus Akaguro you scared the shit out of me!” you hiss once you realize who exactly is stood before you.

“You’re making a mistake,” Stain growls. “Reading other people’s messages over their shoulder is rude,” you huff. “He’s not worth it,” Stain insists and at that you tense. “I know you’ve always thought he was one of the fake heroes you despise so much, but you’re wrong. He is the best hero I’ve ever met and if anyone can fix the bullshit with hero society and the HPSC It’s him,” you insist, eyes burning with determination as you stare down your friend. Your conviction seems to stun him. He narrows his eyes as if analyzing your sincerity before finally sighing.

“Nothing I say will change your mind will it?”

“No...”

“What can I do?”

“Hug me goodbye?”

Stain nods and your hands glow red as you materialize him, tears already starting to fall from your eyes again as the reality of your situation fully sinks in. It’s not just Keigo you’re losing, it’s everyone, and that hurts even more than you expected it to. You pull Stain into you and bury your face in his shoulder to muffle the sound of your tears so as not to wake up Keigo. Akaguro is awkward at first but eventually he returns the hug. “Watch over him for me,” you plead. “I will,” Stain swears. You know he’ll keep his word and you can’t afford to stay much longer or you may lose your conviction so you pull away and give one final nod of goodbye before stepping around your friend and walking out of the door. Each step makes you feel heavier as you walk away from everything, but at no point do you regret your decision. Keigo will be safe. Or at least the safest a hero can ever be. That’s enough.

It hurts but it’s enough.

A/N: (Y/n) was always going to be taken by the HPSC but her having to make this choice was inspired by Banana fish. I warned y’all you should be worried 🤭

Taglist: @oliviasslut @theycallme-becky @vibesdontlie @superhermit @thechroniclesofawriter

#hopelessbi #hawks #wing hero hawks #hawks smau #hawks x y/n #hawks x fem!reader

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fruitymimi · 4 years

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Free Bird - Keigo Takami x Reader

free bird master list

the hero commission ruined him, leaving him unable to feel anything. that is until he meets them.

warning: yandere themes, emotional trauma/abuse, obsessive hawks

pairing: keigo takami x gender neutral reader

a/n: this fic will get darker as i go, this is only the first chapter (; this is all fiction, if it isnt your thing please scroll x. THIS IS ALSO SLOW BURN! hopefully i’ll have an update out tmr <3

word count: 2727

Keigo Takami was the last man you’d call mentally stable.

Keigo has always felt like he didn’t have a valid place on this earth. He’s always felt like he was alone, nobody understood the way he thought. Since he was a child, he hated the idea of becoming a hero. He wanted to live in peace, he wanted to feel like a free bird. He couldn’t remember much about his childhood, almost like he’d built a mental wall between his past and whatever he had left that he called a future.

His parents always asked him if he wanted to be “Just like Endeavor!” and whenever he’d tell them that he wanted to be his own person, they would shut him down by saying he just didn’t realize it yet, but he was “bound” to be the #1 hero. Instead of a childhood, Keigo was forced to train with people who were physically and mentally stronger than him, people who made his quirk seem as though it was just lightwork that anyone could do.

Putting a child with people who would make him feel inferior was one thing, but doing it on purpose to try and make your child stronger was just abusive. That’s all his parents wanted. They wanted him to be the strongest hero in the world. They would do anything to get their hands on a child with a hero salary.

“You’ll be just like your idol!”

As soon as Hawks turned 18, he’d lost his freedom to speak for himself, he’d lost his free will. He was no longer a free bird. He was manipulated and forced into the position he was in now. They promised he’d be the perfect hero, they promised he would have the top hero position.

Keigo was so desperate for an escape that he believed his “idol” would be his savior, poor thing knew that was near impossible, though. His parents basically sold their soul to Endeavor, after exchanging a few words & their child with Endeavor, his future was written for him.

Endeavor wasn’t at all innocent. Keigo was his fifth chance at the perfect child in his eyes. The only thing that separated the man from Keigo’s parents was the fact that Enji was not motivated by money. Endeavor wanted nothing more than a perfect name. He wanted his name to have an impact far after his death, and he wasn’t sure how far he’d get with Shoto.

By having Keigo, Endeavor could let people know that he trained, motivated, and pushed Keigo to be the amazing hero he was. Nobody would find out about Keigo’s past, no one needed to know. Endeavor would be a legend, Keigo’s parents would be rich beyond belief, and Keigo would be a hero, who wouldn’t want to work for a corrupt system that enslaves or brainwashes its people?

The hero commission didn’t want Keigo. They wanted a hero they could control.

“His quirk is perfect. He has the ability to fly, he can use his feathers in combat, he’s the perfect tool.”

From a young age, Keigo was forced to realize how terrible the hero commission was. Praised or villanized for a quirk you couldn’t control, and if you didn’t have a quirk, you were pretty much useless.

The only people who understood this concept was of course those who were affected by it. The ones who were published all over the news for being a villain, a threat, just because the hero commission saw their quirk as dangerous. They’d be locked behind bars for wanting to stop the injustices & prejudice against them, they’d rot in a cell, blaming themselves for something they couldn’t control. All while heroes were praised for doing the bare minimum, living in 3 story homes, eating off of silver spoons.

Knowing this at a young age was a lot for Keigo. All he wanted was to be a free bird, but… that wasn’t possible anymore. He felt empty. He felt like his life didn’t have a purpose, he was just a puppet for Endeavor, a bank for his parents.

He’d spend hours training with Endeavor, even if he complained that he wasn’t feeling well and didn’t feel like he could continue, Endeavor would make him continue training until he couldn’t fly straight. They event went so far as to putting Keigo in a dorm room inside of Endeavor’s building so they could have longer and “more effective” training. Keigo knew he wouldn’t get out of being a hero, and he was slowly accepting the fact that his right to autonomy was gone.

He couldn’t even escape from the dorms. Even though Endeavor left every night to go to his own home, the building was heavily guarded and Keigo would be a fool to try and run away.

And that’s how he carried himself until he was nineteen. No, he didn’t finally break Endeavor with his sob stories. No, he didn’t knock any sense into his parents to have them pull him out of hero work. He… met someone?

“This is Keigo. He’s… he’s interning with me. He’s been shadowing me since he was a young, aspiring hero.” Enji explained to the person who was following close behind him. They had bright eyes, they looked like they were excited and content with being a hero.

Keigo couldn’t help but stare at them… someone was walking with Endeavor and they were happy. That’s not something you even see from his own wife. It didn’t take long for Keigo to notice how gorgeous they were. The prettiest skin, their features were soft & made their face look absolutely stunning.

“Keigo. Don’t you have something to say to them?” Endeavor was staring daggers into Keigo’s face.

Keigo’s eyes were blown wide as he snapped back into reality. “My name is Keigo Takami. It’s really nice to meet you.” He said to them, reaching his hand out for them to shake.

They grinned, taking his hand into theirs. “It’s nice to meet you! I’m Y/N! I’m interning with All Might, he’s just gonna be busy for a few weeks in another country… So, he trusted Endeavor to train me until he’s back.” Immediately, they cursed themselves for saying something that Keigo probably had no interest in, something he didn’t ask about.

But that’s where they were wrong. Keigo wanted nothing more but to hear them speak. He was pretty sure that the only real interaction he’d gotten in the past month was with Endeavor, it felt amazing to finally be talking with someone else.

Keigo felt like he was floating as he stared at their smile. He wanted to listen to them speak all day, he didn’t care if what they said had no meaning.

“I trust you to teach her warm-ups while I’m in the next room getting a few things for the training,” Endeavor looked at Keigo, raising a row, “behave yourself.” He mumbled, leaving the two in the room by themselves.

Keigo couldn’t help but watch what they were doing. They seemed so bubbly and excited to be in the position they were in.

“So..” They finally broke the awkward silence, folding their hands in front of them, “He seems like he’s a hardass, isn’t he?” They laughed.

Keigo furrowed his brows, scratching the back of his neck. “Hm- What?” He stuttered out. Of course he was getting distracted by their smile again. The way their hands looked so soft and the way their eyes shined whenever they would look at Keigo.

“Endeavor, birdbrain. He’s a hardass? I can tell.” They teased, slowly walking to a chair that was in the room. “He seems like he’s really strict, almost like he’s annoying.”

For some reason, Keigo’s face felt all hot. It felt like it was burning hot in the room all of a sudden. He didn’t feel right. He felt like he wasn’t in the right dimension. He wasn’t himself. “Yeah… That’s Endeavor… He’s always like that, always has been since I can remember.”

“Why’d you pick him for your internship? There are so many cool heroes… Endeavor seems…” Their words trailed off as they looked down at Keigo’s wings, smiling when he saw them flutter. Of course the stupid things fluttered at the sound of their voice.

Keigo opened his mouth to speak, searching for the words-- a lie to tell them. “Well… I’ve always looked up to him. He keeps me in check and is putting me on the correct path to becoming a hero.” The simple, stupid lie felt like acid on his tongue. He couldn’t even stand pretending to praise the man. “What about you? Why All Might?”

They shrugged. “I dunno… I want to be like him someday… But… I want to be better. I don’t want people to feel like they’re villains just because they don’t have the ideal quirk. I want them to also know that they can make a difference in this world just like a hero can. And I want people without quirks to know that too,” They said, getting that same bright look in their face they had when they first walked in, “I’ve always thought the hero commission was fucked, but maybe if a few good heroes step in, it’ll better…?”

Keigo hummed, nodding his head. “I’ve always thought the same thing. The hero commission is so damaged.” Keigo agreed. He could listen to them speak for hours. He was in absolute awe from the way they made him feel.

After that day, Keigo drug himself to his bedroom in his dorm.. His body didn’t feel like it was his anymore. He had never felt this way and it was honestly overwhelming. He didn’t have anyone to speak to about it, so these feelings bottled up in his soul. He kept closing his eyes to go to sleep, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop thinking about them. Their smile, how excited they were to do hero work. His head felt all cloudy, his heart felt like it was heavy. Finally he could feel something, he hated it.

It felt like his head was pounding. Keigo coldn’t get them off his mind. They’d only met and spoken to each other once, why was he feeling like this? This wasn’t him falling in love, right?

“That’s childish… It can’t be..” he mumbled to himself, laying down flat against his pillow. He could hear faint footsteps but he’d just assumed it was Endeavor walking around the hallways to make sure he was sleeping before he left for his own home.

“Hey..” Y/N knocked on his cracked door, biting down on their bottom lip, “Birdbrain… You awake?” They whisper-yelled, peeking into his room.

Keigo squinted at the door, sitting up in his bed. “Why’re you awake? Endeavor’s gonna be upset..” he told them, pushing the blankets off of his legs to walk over to them.

They shrugged, opening the door a bit wider. “It’s fine. I wanted to show you something… it might be something you already know about, but I thought it would make you kinda happy.” They reached for his wrist, tugging it towards their dorm room.

They smiled, rushing him over to the window. “I noticed if you can fit through the window, you could sit on the roof… I thought it would be kinda cool for us to look at the stars or something and talk. Since I’m gonna be here for awhile, we might as well become friends, right?”

That stupid fucking smile.

Keigo nodded slowly, looking outside. “There are guards down there… what if they see us?” Keigo bit down on his lip. To Keigo, it wasn’t a matter of ‘what if they see us?’, it was a matter of ‘what if they see me?’. They wouldn’t get in trouble, but Keigo would be punished if they thought he was sneaking out.

“If we get in trouble, I’ll take the blame. Just do this with me, please?” They asked, unlocking the window. They slid it open, crawling out of the window. They turned to face Keigo, offering a hand to help him out.

Keigo stared at their hand for a minute. He was getting that dumb feeling again. His hands felt shaky, his cheeks felt like they were burning hot, his heart was pounding like it was doing flips in his chest. He took their hand, using it to get onto the rooftop.

“You’re so shaky… Have you never done anything risky like this?” They giggled, turning to look at all of the stars. “It’s really beautiful up here.” They mumbled.

Keigo looked at them, then to their glossy eyes. He swallowed, nodding his head. “Yeah, it’s really pretty…” he muttered, his eyes darting down to his lap. Was this love? He hasn’t felt that since he was a child, how could he have fallen for some trainee?

“So, Keigo. What is your quirk exactly? Can you only fly?” They asked him, turning to look at the man beside them.

Keigo shook his head. “No! I mean.. No, my quirk gives me fierce wings. My feathers act as if they’re alive and move at my command. They’re good for saving people. And I can use some of them like a sword, some of them are extremely sharp.” Keigo explained to them, watching them look at his hawks in amazement. “What’s your quirk..?”

They hummed. “That’s really cool! You should take me on a flight one day,” they grinned, “and… It’s kind of lame compared to yours. I can create a sandstorm on command, small, large, whatever.” They told him.

Keigo nodded. “That’s not lame. That sounds really interesting, actually.” Keigo felt his wings twitch. They were making him feel some type of way again.

Keigo got lost in his own thoughts, he didn’t even notice them leaning their head against him until he heard their soft snores. Keigo turned his head, something red catching his eye. He darted his eyes over to the window, peering out. He could see Endeavor standing at the door way with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

Keigo bit his lip, turning back to the stars. He looked down at them. He couldn’t help but notice their features all over again. They were absolutely breath-taking. And they smelled fresh and sweet, he felt like he could get high off of their rich scent. Their skin looked soft to the touch, it made him want to reach out and lay his hand on their cheek, and just stare into their eyes.

Keigo’s wings fluttered again at the sight. He bit down on his lip, letting out a deep breath. Keigo was basically at a war with himself in his head. Was it okay for him to develop a crush on someone this fast? Keigo didn’t remember what it was like to be in love, he’d lost that feeling towards his parents long ago. But looking down at them made him feel safe. As long as he was out here with them, nothing could hurt him anymore.

He could forget about everything that was hurting him. He could forget about what was trapping him inside this awful building when he was with them.

His parents couldn’t hurt him anymore.

Endeavor couldn’t hurt him anymore.

Keigo could feel tears brimming at his eyes, his bottom lip quivering. Only they could make him feel this way. No one else gave him this sense of… sense of euphoria and happiness. And the way they were speaking with him, they felt it too, right? They were in love too, right? Keigo wasn’t crazy. Keigo knew what this meant.

This meant they were in love too.

He just knew that he couldn’t let them go. He couldn’t let someone take them from him. He needed them. He wanted to have this feeling forever. He needed to feel wanted forever. He wasn’t interpreting this wrong, this was love. This is what true love was suposed to feel like. He wrapped his wing around them, using his feathers as if they were a blanket to keep them warm.

He looked down at his shaky hands, pressing one against his pounding chest. This was all because of them. This was meant to happen… this is fate. His mind was blank. The only thing he could only think one thing,

Mine.

They will be mine.

#bnha #hawks x reader #gender neutral imagine #mha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami #yagami yato #x reader #yandere #yandere hawks #yandere keigo #yandere keigo x reader #slow burn #yandere hawks x reader

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plumoh · 3 years

Text

[SK8] at all times, at all sides

Rating: T

Word count: 7409

Summary: Kaoru is shaped by the choices he makes and the people surrounding him. And through the years, Kojirou was there in one way or another.

Note: AO3 link. This was posted a while after Kaoru’s birthday, as a character study of sorts, birthday by birthday. I make the assumption that in the present day, Kaoru and Kojirou are 27-28 years old.There is a brief mention of alcohol at age 20, and Kaoru is a bit drunk at age 26.

15.

Kaoru gets two additional piercings on his left ear on his fifteenth birthday.

The first one, at what is considered a normal place for an earring in the middle of the earlobe, was done as an impulsive act of brashness to show off to his friends at school at the beginning of the year. He likes the attention. The family name attached to him makes people gasp when they see him with holes in his ear, but he would be lying if he said it didn’t bring him some sort of satisfaction. It’s kind of ridiculous and entirely too stiff an attitude to be offended by some nails stuck into someone else’s skin, as if it changes who he fundamentally is. Besides, piercings are cool.

So Kaoru gets two additional piercings, a helix piercing and another one in the earlobe, and Kojirou whistles.

“You sure your parents won’t cut off your entire ear for that?” he asks, his gaze appraising Kaoru’s new look.

“I’ll live with only one ear, then,” Kaoru answers, shrugging. “What do you think? I look cool, right?”

Kaoru gestures to his ear, grinning and looking at Kojirou expectantly. He knows that he must be acting like a child who got permission to eat a second candy after dinner, but it’s his birthday and he feels he can be excited for what is, essentially, a new approach to his lifestyle. He paid for these piercings with his own pocket money (and money earned through foolish bets and challenges, and he’s thankful that most skaters are stupid).

Kojirou hums, his face pinched in intense concentration. Kaoru rolls his eyes.

“That’s a yes or no question, Kojirou.”

“Let me give you a complete review of your new fashion style, impatient bastard,” Kojirou says.

“I don’t need a complete review! They’re just piercings!”

Kojirou always takes forever when asked to give his opinion on any topic, be it about his younger brother’s latest baseball game or the best suited color for a piece of garment Kaoru’s mother has decided to wear for an important meeting. It’s utterly unnecessary and a waste of time—Kaoru isn’t asking Kojirou to write an essay about his piercings.

“Just answer the question,” Kaoru says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, if you like your piercings so much, maybe show them off more?” Kojirou sighs. “I don’t know, you have more hair than any human being is supposed to have. It hides the piercings.”

Kaoru snorts. “Complain to my mother about that.”

But Kaoru entertains the idea.

16.

Keeping his hair long is a simple matter of preference. There is no rule in his family stating that its members should have a specific length of hair, so why not? Very few boys and men have it this long, and Kojirou always asks him why he bothers taking care of such a useless physical feature when all it does is getting into his way when he skates. Kaoru admits he does have a point, but he likes his hair.

Kaoru is currently tying it into a ponytail, lazily skating on the sidewalk around their neighborhood. Kojirou is skating at his side eating an entire soda flavored Garigari-kun popsicle, shoving it into his mouth and crunching into the ice because he likes having brain freeze.

“Hey, it’s your birthday next week,” Kojirou announces, like it’s the most thrilling event of the week. “Did you plan something? Wanna go explore some new skating areas?”

Kaoru flips his hair over his shoulder and shrugs. Kojirou is looking at him curiously, almost intently, and that makes Kaoru raise an eyebrow.

“Nothing special, but it’s also on the same day as some renown calligrapher from Tokyo visiting our studio. So yeah.”

“All the way from Tokyo? That sounds important.”

“Maybe. I didn’t really pay attention.”

Simply thinking about all the formal procedures that will take place in his house and the fact he will have to be on his “best behavior, please, Kaoru” is pissing him off. He’s not interested in hearing about the works of this supposedly famous and talented calligrapher bestowing upon their modest family his knowledge and wise advice. Kaoru doesn’t even know why he still attends the calligraphy lessons when he’s pretty sure he’ll go into computer science or something. His parents are always on his case about maintaining his posture and improving his strokes every day, and at some point Kaoru started obeying to make their noisy demands stop. He doesn’t genuinely hate the art itself; he simply thinks that his time is better spent elsewhere. What does calligraphy have when computers can do much more fascinating stuff?

Kojirou is nibbling at the popsicle stick, eyeing him with that critical look he often gets when he considers throwing paper balls at Kaoru in class, or when he thinks that Kaoru needs a snack to calm down, like some fucking animal he’s trying to tame—Kaoru hates that somehow, food always works.

“You want to ditch?” Kojirou asks as neutrally as possible, but Kaoru hears the sympathy in his voice. Which is appreciated, but unnecessary.

“No, I was actually thinking of scandalizing my parents by cutting my hair and having it cropped short,” Kaoru says with a half-feral grin. “Like, strands of hair sticking everywhere and impossible to make it look presentable.”

Kojirou almost stumbles on his skateboard, even though it’s a straight line and he wasn’t even pushing with his feet on the concrete.

“What?! But you never shut up about your hair!”

“You fucking liar, I only ever say I like having it long!”

“Yeah, that still makes it stupid! Why would you cut your hair if you like it long?”

“Because hair grows again?”

“Not as fast as you’d think, if you even thought about it before blurting out you want to get a bowl cut.”

“Disheveled and rowdy haircut, not a bowl cut, you idiot!”

They make a turn at the corner of the street, expertly avoiding a kid walking her dog and dodging the woman carrying groceries behind her, not without getting scolded for skating in residential areas (or skating at all) but those are words that go in one ear and exit in the other. Kaoru smiles to himself and kicks into the ground to get more speed, jumps and flips his board in the air before landing on it again with minimal risk of smashing his face in the concrete. He lifts a fist in the air with a whooping cry.

“Oh hey, that was a good one!” he exclaims, giving Kojirou a radiant grin.

“You mastered this trick long ago, why are you so excited?” Kojirou grumbles.

“Because it felt nice, that’s all. Be happy about the small things in life, that’s what you keep saying.”

“Sometimes I feel you’re purposely throwing back my words at my face only when it’s convenient for you.”

“I always listen to you, even if it might come as a surprise.”

Kaoru laughs, spinning his board and continuing on a straight line, ahead of Kojirou. Today’s weather is pleasant and he can’t wait for the end of the school year at the end of the week to go skating all day. It will come with more calligraphy practice, but at least he will have time for his other hobbies too. And if he can’t focus on anything at home, he can still go to Kojirou’s place and bother him all day.

“Then don’t cut your hair!” Kojirou shouts, catching up to him.

The lines on Kojirou’s face are weird, all upset and a bit worried, and that’s not an expression Kaoru is used to see when they’re talking about haircuts, of all things. Maybe when they’re doing their geography homework or when they’ve spent one hour practicing tricks and got more bruises than actual results, but not hair.

“What’s up with you?” Kaoru asks, slowing down. “It’s just my hair. It’s a good prank.”

“You’re going to look like a bird’s nest for at least three months, you okay with that?” Kojirou retorts.

“That’s not the worst thing in existence. And if I recall, you told me last year I should show off my piercings more, so having short hair would effectively do that.”

Kojirou groans and drags a hand across his face, almost looking defeated.

“Just style it in a way that makes your piercings visible, then,” Kojirou adds. “You… have nice hair.”

Kaoru blinks. Kojirou looks straight ahead, his posture stiff, determined not to turn his head in Kaoru’s direction.

“I have nice hair,” Kaoru repeats.

“Yes.”

“You don’t want me to cut my hair because it looks nice?”

“Yes.”

“That might be the most honest compliment you’ve ever said to me.”

“Shut up, I’m never complimenting you ever again!”

Kojirou speeds up, but not before Kaoru catches a glimpse of his reddening ears. The situation is starting to make even less sense, but seeing Kojirou so flustered over nothing is piquing Kaoru’s interest and his lips stretch in a wide grin. Kaoru joins Kojirou in their less-than-recommended skating speed.

“Okay, but you’re being weird!” Kaoru shouts over the sound of their wheels scratching against the ground. “Was that an offer to style my hair?”

“I’m not talking to you,” Kojirou mutters.

“You’re the one who suggested it, you can’t drop the topic!”

It’s almost comical to see two teenagers loudly arguing about a pointless subject while skateboarding and avoiding any obstacles they come across, as if being on a board is the same as walking. Passersby shoot them quizzical looks and a lot of adults are clearly not approving their noise level.

They end up skating all the way to the playground near the elementary school of the neighborhood, where a few kids are playing while their parents are watching over them. There is a skating park farther away, but people are already using it and Kaoru doesn’t like skating with people not part of their crew unless he’s looking for a fight. So they keep skating around, at a lower speed because colliding with children won’t exactly look good on either of them.

“Fine, keep being stubborn, you asshole,” Kaoru grumbles. “I’ll get another piercing.”

Kojirou finally jerks his head towards Kaoru, his expression a lot less constipated and more curious. “On such a short notice?”

“I’ll find a way. And even if I can’t get it done before my birthday, it will still be infuriating for my parents.”

Kaoru taps at his lower lip, not missing the way Kojirou’s eyes follow the movement with rapt attention.

“I wanted to get a lip ring, anyway,” he says.

There is something simply enthralling in a lip ring—the light catches on it, and people are immediately in admiration when they see it. Not everyone has the guts to get one, after all.

Kojirou slowly nods, tearing his gaze away from Kaoru’s face.

“If you want,” he says. “I don’t see any problem with that.”

“You’re so weird today.” Kaoru rolls his eyes.

“You’re the weird one, obsessed with piercings.”

“You just wish you could be as cool as me. Race you to my home!”

“Damn it Kaoru, stop cheating!”

Kaoru ignores Kojirou and launches himself at full speed to make his skateboard pivot and turn around, going back from the way they came. Kojirou is still yelling at him.

Kaoru doesn’t manage to get his lip pierced before his birthday, but he does sweep the left side of his hair behind his head and keep it in place with a hair clamp, leaving his earrings in plain sight. To the calligrapher’s credit, upon seeing who the supposed Sakurayashiki heir is, he makes only the vaguest noise of shock before getting into business. Kaoru smiles all throughout the visit.

17.

Kaoru’s seventeenth birthday remains one of the most special days of his life.

He got gifts, snacks and high-fives from various people whom he cares more or less about (the crew bought a cake but Kaoru only got a thin slice of it because they are greedy bastards), while Kojirou bought him a book on AI that was way too expensive even if he has a part-time job salary (Kaoru wrestled him to the ground when he recognized the book).

Adam takes them skating in a place they’ve never explored before.

It’s beautiful. Exciting, captivating and alluring, making them use all their senses to turn at the right time, to ride down a hill without losing control, and to feel the full path reverberated through their bodies in shock waves. Skateboarding is fun, but this is on another level entirely—it’s like sliding on the edge of a cliff, giving heart palpitations but also an intoxicating feeling of a game that needs to be beaten, whose ending is all worth these efforts.

The three of them are skating as if wings sprouted on their back, uncaring of the world outside of their little bubble of thrills. Kaoru watches in fascination as Adam seems to fly across the track, smooth in his skating and unconcerned with the bumpy road. The wind seems to be an inconsequential factor in his descent in the slope, moving along with it and never straying far from the road. It’s subjugating, it’s beautiful, it’s freedom.

“Watch where you’re skating, idiot!” Kojirou yells right next to him, startling Kaoru out of his reverie.

Kaoru crouches low and makes a sharp turn, avoiding a rock that would have sent him sprawling. He straightens and keeps going at a controlled pace, glaring at Kojirou.

“I know what I’m doing!” he grunts.

“You almost smacked that wall with your face,” Kojirou points out with a glare of his own. “Stop getting distracted.”

“I’m not distracted,” Kaoru snaps back automatically.

But the look Kojirou is giving him is indescribable, so foreign on his face and even more so as it is directed at Kaoru. There is something brewing in the air and Kaoru doesn’t like it, doesn’t want a chasm opening between them because of a stupid argument, but he doesn’t even know what made Kojirou so irritable in the first place.

Adam is waiting for them at the end of the path, watching them arriving at a sullen pace with a raised eyebrow. Kaoru stops right in front of him and plasters a smile on his face, much more eager to talk about they’ve come here for.

“That’s an amazing place! Skating here is so fun, we can make a challenge out of a lot of things in this mountain.”

“Yes, the turns are different and there are many slopes that we need to be careful of,” Adam agrees, smiling. “I truly believe we can accomplish a lot, if we do it together. I want to create a special race here for skaters to push their limits.”

Adam looks at Kaoru, then at Kojirou—the glint of mischief and of confidence reflected in his eyes is the same as the one that pulls everyone in his orbit, making them give their all to become the best. It’s a look that Kaoru feels inextricably drawn to, enamored with the unbridled possibilities he imagines behind words that promise a paradise of freedom grander than anything they’ve ever known.

“You both have skills that will be useful to establish this race,” Adam continues. “People are following you and your skating is among the best. I said before that you guys were special, and I mean it.”

Kaoru does not preen, but the shivers that course through his body as Adam opens his heart are ones that feel pleasant, almost addictive. His grin splits his face in two.

“You can count on us, we’re going to create the best skating race in existence,” Kaoru assures. “Right, Kojirou?”

“Yeah, of course!”

Kojirou’s earnest tone is almost a relief—he’s clearly as excited about this race as them, and Kaoru would have been seriously worried if that wasn’t the case.

For the first time, the joyous expression on Adam’s face seems to be born out of sincerity plucked from the deepest corner of his heart. It suits him; it makes him look even more radiant than usual. Kaoru can’t look away.

“It’s decided, then,” Adam says. “The three of us, inaugurating the “S” race. Together.”

On that day, when Kaoru turned seventeen and his mind was filled with nothing but skateboarding, he thought that this is what belonging felt like.

18.

Sitting perfectly straight, legs tucked under him, Kaoru picks up a brush, dips it into ink he has carefully ground, presses it against the sheet of paper and splashes black trails all over it. The ink drips outside of the frame and stains the tatami floor of the study he hasn’t bothered to protect, littering everything in dark, angry marks that resemble the work of a child throwing a tantrum.

There is no word, no poem written on his paper. Half of the inkstick is grossly used up, its tip almost falling apart, like it wasn’t deemed worthy of being respected as one of the treasures of calligraphy. Kaoru is filling the paper with nothing but emptiness.

It’s not even rage moving his arm like a possessed demon. It would have been easier to deal with, if it was rage; handling it requires minimal effort, as he can mindlessly let his heart wreak havoc upon anything his hands come into contact with, or he can scream all the grievances he’s bottled up to clear the space occupied by unpleasant thoughts. Rage is physical, in and out, and Kaoru’s had years of practice getting rid of it.

But this is not rage that nudges him in the direction of destroying a perfectly good piece of paper with expensive ink and an even more expensive brush, tarnishing their quality and the noble use they are destined to. It’s cold and quiet resignation, trapping him in his own mind as he lets himself be selfish one last time and act out in childish anger.

Kaoru’s eighteenth birthday is spent alone, grieving his dream of ever cutting ties with family traditions. He hasn’t touched a skateboard in months and he hasn’t tinkered with his AI program in even longer. There was no point anyway—Kojirou has other things to focus on, and Adam left.

Kaoru was a fool to think he was strong and resolute enough to follow a path that is not written with the same deep ink as the one he’s used all his life.

20.

“You can legally drink now, congrats.”

“Great. I can sip my alcohol in the presence of guests and pretend I’m enjoying their company when all I want is getting drunk.”

“That’s not very professional, soon-to-be Sakurayashiki-sensei.”

“You’re one to talk, I bet you’re consuming way too many beers at those parties. Has gaining muscle mass made you lose brain cells?”

“Hey, you four-eyes, that was uncalled for!”

There is something moving behind Kojirou, a door opening and someone poking his head inside, and Kojirou turns his head to rattle off a few words in Italian before facing the camera again. Chin resting in his palm, Kaoru is watching with a raised eyebrow Kojirou’s roommate rummage through Kojirou’s dressing, before retreating back into the corridor.

“Does he make a habit to walk around your shared apartment half-naked?” Kaoru asks.

Kojirou laughs, waving his hand. “He was looking for a clean shirt, he forgot to do laundry yesterday. I told him he could borrow one of mine.”

“I’m surprised you still find shirts your size with the way your body’s taking the shape of a gorilla’s.”

“Just admit you’re jealous of my perfect muscles.”

Kojirou makes a show of flexing his bicep and Kaoru snorts.

“Yeah, I’m so jealous of that gorilla body that is unnecessarily big.” Kaoru deadpans.

“Believe it or not, it makes skating a lot more fun too,” Kojirou adds with a smile. “More power in the legs to do tricks.”

Kojirou looks...satisfied with the direction his life is taking. Kaoru is happy for him—studying abroad in culinary school and discovering a whole new culture seems to be the change of pace Kojirou needed. Sometimes Kaoru wishes he could also skate in the places full of pipes and curvy roads that Kojirou shows him, but he has to make do with the familiar tracks he’s skated on all his life.

“I upgraded Carla to calculate distances faster and to automatically record what she sees,” Kaoru says with a hint of smugness.

“Your AI having a girl’s name will never stop being weird,” Kojirou groans. “Why haven’t you chosen something normal like “Ghost Voice” or “Robotico”?”

“An AI is not a robot.” Kaoru pinches the bridge of his nose, already tired of having to repeat this for the umpteenth time. “Your Roomba is a robot. Carla recognizes many more things than the shape of your apartment.”

“Then program Carla to clean my apartment too.”

“Carla isn’t a vacuum cleaner, you dimwit!”

“That’s a big shame, maybe you should also create an AI cooking for you!”

Kaoru opens his mouth to reply something scathing, then snaps it shut. On the screen, Kojirou frowns.

“Don’t,” Kojirou warns.

“We have enough resources and data to program an AI that creates recipes from a list of ingredients,” Kaoru says anyway. “If we implement it into a robot, with the correct code and careful adjustments, then maybe it will be a decent cook.”

“If you start making a cook AI I don’t want to heart about it,” Kojirou mutters.

Kaoru rolls his eyes. “Do you think I have enough hours in a day to focus on another project? Carla already requires my full attention.”

There is no need for him to say that calligraphy practice is what he does most of the day, if he’s not attending courses on speech or on business. It’s his life now; he chose to become the next Sakurayashiki calligrapher and he can’t back down now. Not that he’s ever fully considered leaving calligraphy behind for one of his better, more interesting hobbies—and this was exactly the problem. He never untied his hands from the string tethering him to a brush.

“You always want to work on something, so I’m expecting anything from you when you’re bored,” Kojirou says with a smirk.

“Maybe my next project will make gorillas like you shut up.”

Kaoru is twenty years old, discovering every day new aspects of himself in a professional environment, but one thing that never changes is the comfort of simply existing as himself when he talks to Kojirou.

22.

Kaoru spends a couple of years simmering in feelings he doesn’t acknowledge.

He isn’t someone who takes the time to reflect on his own feelings, negative or positive. They simply happen and he decides on whether to act on them—which has been true since he was a child, throwing tantrums when he didn’t like the task he was asked to do, kicking someone he didn’t agree with as a teenager, and deflecting when answering journalists’ questions that would force him to look deep into his heart. He lives in the moment and tries very hard not to burden himself with useless thoughts and regrets he can’t act upon.

He doesn’t dwell more than necessary on his choice to inherit the family calligraphy studio, because it will lead to nothing productive. He has perhaps harbored ill feelings towards calligraphy in the past, but they’re not so visceral he can’t execute the job he’s been trained for since he could hold a brush. Sometimes he thinks he could have rejected everything he’s been taught and disappoint his family for the rest of his life, but he immediately chases the thought away and decides that suffering through a successful career of calligrapher appears to be a small sacrifice compared to the headaches that would have come with removing himself from the Sakurayashiki studio.

He’s a full grown adult, by society’s standards. He shed his sweaters for yukatas and took off his piercings with reluctance, feeling like he ripped off a part of himself that’s been with him forever to fit into a mold he’s accepted as his new normal. Those were remnants of his old, carefree life that he abandoned, and it’d be preposterous to wish for things to have gone differently.

At least he has his AI—a new spin to a traditional art that is resistant to change. Carla is efficient, impressive and shocks people into admiration; Kaoru has upgraded and improved the code as many times as it required, making her compatible with every device in his possession so that she could accompany him in all his tasks. Skating became a game of precision, detail and finesse, aiming for perfection beyond what the average mind would think of. Calligraphy is enhanced and magnified, the digital aspect adding beauty in an art that is almost exclusively done by hand. Incorporating technology in his otherwise boring job undoubtedly made his days easier and more fun.

Kaoru isn’t dissatisfied. He can do better, but he could have done worse. However, if there is one thing that makes him antsy it’s the realization that he’s seeing less of Kojirou with each passing day, and he would have never thought it would leave a growing ache in his chest every time he thinks about it.

They have their own lives to live. It’s part of growing up—and he hasn’t completely lost his best friend yet.

25.

They have been wandering the streets of Paris for exactly ten minutes and Kaoru is already starting to regret his decision.

“It’s not that hard to read a map,” he seethes, trying to grab Kojirou’s phone.

Kojirou lifts the device higher and turns his back on Kaoru, stubbornly keeping his eyes riveted on the screen.

“I’ve got this, stop distracting me,” Kojirou says.

“The metro station is right there, let’s just change itinerary, stupid gorilla!”

“You want to take the metro when we could explore the city on foot?”

“The probability of getting shitted on by pigeons is way too high for my liking.”

This gets an undignified snort from Kojirou, more amused than mocking though Kaoru knows not to assume when every one of his words can be thrown back at his face later on.

They do end up taking the metro. They can go anywhere in Paris by bus or metro, making it extremely convenient to find their way but it gets overwhelming really fast—the metro lines seem to be full of people at all hours of the day, according to Kaoru’s extensive research before their trip, and they are nothing like the monorail they have back in Okinawa. Most passengers are focused on their phones, while others are taking a quick nap, which is not that different from what they’re used to.

“It can’t be worse than the Tokyo rail lines,” Kaoru mutters as they’re being shaken by the train doing a particularly sharp and violent turn.

“You’ve never been to Tokyo,” Kojirou replies with a raised eyebrow.

“I did last year for a meeting.”

“And that single trip was enough for you to get the full experience of the infamous rush of Tokyo’s Yamanote line?”

“I wasn’t saying I used the Yamanote line, imbecile. All trains are crowded. I think you wouldn’t have been able to squeeze in with your gorilla body.”

“At least I’m not at risk of going blind when someone knocks off my glasses by pushing me around in a crowd!”

“I always carry a second pair of glasses with me to avoid this kind of incident!”

It’s probably a good thing that this line of metro makes the same level of noise as a tractor revved up at full power, because their arguing is by no means quiet and people are starting to stare at them. But as soon as Kaoru glances at them, they avert their eyes and pretend they weren’t gawking. Typical.

March weather is terrible. Their trip lasts one week, and there is an equal number of sunny days and of cloudy days, with high probability of rain. It shouldn’t be normal to have a changing weather so unpredictable that it makes planning for their day a real pain in the ass. Kojirou is already complaining about the sun beginning to leave space for clouds at merely eleven in the morning, and Kaoru silently agrees with the sentiment.

The food is good, at least.

“Reminds me a bit of what restaurants looked like in Italy,” Kojirou says around a mouthful of beef. “Maybe I can draw inspiration from those recipes.”

“It’s not Italian cuisine,” Kaoru points out. “Unless you intend to make a mixed menu.”

“Of course not, but the flavors can be useful.”

Kojirou is examining his piece of vegetable like a scientist observing an experiment under a microscope, as if it could give him the secrets of its cooking time or the spices used for it. Kaoru lightly kicks him under the table, and Kojirou hisses.

“Stop being weird and eat your food.”

“Do you really have to hit me every time you want to make a point?”

“I’m not hitting that hard.”

The other way around is more likely to happen; Kaoru won’t ever admit it but he doubts that Kojirou feels more pain than Kaoru does when he hits him. Those muscles are ridiculous and entirely unnecessary, honestly.

They take pictures at the landmarks and get mad at the long lines and narrow their eyes at the price of various food and drinks they stumble upon. They’re not short on money, but drinking a cup of café au lait at twice the price of what they can find in regular coffee shops doesn’t leave a good taste in their mouth. Kojirou uses the knowledge from his time in Italy to make educated guesses on whether they’re paying something at an unreasonable price or not—he looks a bit too smug doing so but Kaoru lets it slide for once and allows him to play the role of the brain for this specific aspect of their trip. Kaoru can at least trust Kojirou’s judgment when money is concerned (even if his intuition can be skewed sometimes).

“It’s only because it’s your birthday trip that I’m putting up with your need to visit museums,” Kojirou says, waving at the multiple pamphlets they gathered after three days of sightseeing.

“Having some culture ingrained in your mind is nothing but beneficial for you,” Kaoru retorts evenly.

Kojirou rolls his eyes, clearly not interested in that conversation, and gets up from his bed of their hotel room. It’s past midnight but they’re still wide awake. Sharing one room would be awkward or embarrassing for a lot of people, but Kaoru has known Kojirou half his life and it would be ridiculous to feel self-conscious now, when they’ve seen each other in various states of undress and wakefulness. Perhaps the only complaint Kaoru will voice that he didn’t have when he was thirteen is that the older Kojirou gets, the louder his snoring is (as if the noise level grows with the wideness of his body).

“Hey, Kaoru.”

Kaoru looks up from tomorrow’s schedule displayed on his phone to come face to face with a giant box of pastries and Kojirou’s bright grin. Kojirou is holding the box one-handed, slightly bent forward, like he would a tray to present his dish to his most loyal customers.

“Happy birthday, four-eyes,” Kojirou says on a light tone.

“Must you call me names when you’re wishing me happy birthday?” Kaoru scoffs, but he eyes the pastries with unconcealed interest.

They went to a bakery in the afternoon for a snack, buying a croissant, a pain au chocolat and a pain aux raisins because they apparently lack self control when it comes to cheap baked goods—but for some reason Kaoru missed the moment Kojirou acquired this box of pastries.

“It’s past midnight,” Kaoru reminds him.

Kojirou shrugs. “We’re grown adults and on holiday, I don’t think it’s much of a problem.”

“There are six different pastries in this box.”

“Nobody’s saying we should eat all of them right now, moron. Save some of them for tomorrow.”

They end up eating three pasties, one half each, while arguing about the pros and cons of buying smaller portions of different sweets over getting an entire cake for a birthday, as well as the point of starting celebrating said birthday at midnight instead of simply waiting for morning. They’ve had these conversations before, at Kaoru’s or Kojirou’s birthday over the years, but it seems they never grow sick of repeating the same arguments even when the topic is stupid.

It’s like a well-oiled machine; pushing on one button always leads to the same result. Kaoru and Kojirou argue because this is what they’re used to do, a response at their lips even before they hear the end of the other’s sentence. What comes out of their mouths takes the shape of banter but Kaoru, even though he usually ignores it, notices how at ease he is in these moments.

Kojirou invited him for this trip even if he didn’t have to, and bought pastries to share at midnight like they’re holding a small party. His face is illuminated by his generosity and his big heart that finds a way to carve itself in his eyes.

“Let’s go skating tomorrow afternoon, it will be fun,” Kojirou suggests, mischief and plain desire to have fun glimmering in his gaze.

And Kaoru can’t say no.

They brought their boards, like they did when they traveled to Los Angeles. It might sound like a waste of space in their luggage, but nobody has a say in what they consider fun. Kaoru had to change Carla’s battery for her to fall under airport regulation, which was a hassle on short notice (Kojirou dropped a plane ticket on Kaoru’s lap a week before departure, and Kaoru shoved back money at him but it somehow ended back in his hands after a few minutes of jostling) but definitely worth it, because there’s no way he will skate with a lower quality board.

On March 27th, when Kaoru turns twenty-five years old, he almost resorts to a more physical solution to win petty squabbles against skaters in another country, a behavior he was prone to display when he was seventeen. But he’s an adult who is traveling for leisure and isn’t foolish enough to ruin the trip by punching someone when he can skate away and show off with a few tricks involving exact calculations and perfect angles, so this is what he does—after Kojirou, admittedly, forced him to remain calm, as though he was his impulse control when Kojirou is just as quick to rise to a challenge.

Maybe the difference is that Kojirou isn’t a cocky bastard like Kaoru is. Debatable, but Kaoru won’t deny that he loves the feeling of achieving something flashy or impressive. Getting into trouble for it is always worth it, especially if Kojirou is there to live it with him. It’s never the same without Kojirou—they might bicker and have more arguments then actual conversations, but Kojirou’s a warm presence enveloping him in a tight hug he can never quite shake off.

The trip to Paris isn’t half-bad, and it’s full of memories with the person he trusts the most.

26.

Kojirou is very, very still when Kaoru finally stops fighting with himself and leans his head on his shoulder, completely wasted after drinking too much wine at this event gathering too many important people to talk to and drink with. The taxi is silent and all he can hear is the screech of the wheels on the asphalt.

“Rest until we reach your home,” Kojirou says, something akin to laughter in his voice.

“Hm.”

Kaoru registers the words coming out of Kojirou’s mouth, and judges them acceptable before closing his eyes and letting himself be rocked by the car drive. In his drunken haze, when he called Kojirou to be picked up, he forgot Kojirou lent his car to his little brother; remembering such an essential detail would have saved them a lot of trouble, but Kojirou called a taxi and is now sitting with Kaoru in the backseat instead of going back to his own home. What an idiot.

Kojirou helps him into his apartment, grumbling as his elbows hit the walls and his feet get caught in stray shoes in the genkan that Kaoru eventually wanted to sort out and put away. They manage to get to the couch, and Kaoru collapses on it without grace and lets out a long groan, draping an arm over his eyes.

“I’m not drinking at this sort of event again,” he complains.

“That’s your fault for not limiting yourself,” Kojirou sounds unimpressed. “You always say you’ll stop drinking but you keep doing it.”

“Half a glass with each guest is customary. Beyond that is called showing off.”

“So you’re showing off, stupid four-eyes.”

“Shut up, gorilla. I have something to prove.”

Kojirou’s sigh is filled with such apparent exasperation that Kaoru immediately realizes how petty and ridiculous he just sounded.

“On the day of your birthday, to top it all,” Kojirou says. “Do you need babysitting?”

“You are not going to babysit me,” Kaoru snaps. “I’ll just go to sleep.”

“Yeah, and you’ll start bitching tomorrow morning because you forgot to drink water and take a shower.”

“I’m not that incompetent, you giant brainless idiot.”

Kojirou doesn’t deign responding to his insult and slides behind the kitchen counter. Kaoru drops his arm and watches him rummaging through the cabinets with too much confidence for someone who doesn’t live there. Kojirou comes back with a glass of water and two slices of bread that Kaoru usually eats in the morning when he’s too lazy to make breakfast.

“You probably didn’t eat much, since your robophile brain was wired on ingesting wine.”

“I just said I don’t need your help,” Kaoru mutters.

Kojirou ignores him and deposits the items on the coffee table. He then sits down next to Kaoru, causing Kaoru to shift further on his side of the couch because of his needlessly big body.

“Do you have to sit so close to me?” Kaoru grumbles, leaning forward to snatch the water and the bread, pretending that his world didn’t start spinning as he did so. He takes a few sips of the water.

“Your couch isn’t large enough.”

“It’s your body that’s not average size, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“You’re suspiciously coherent for someone who says he’s drunk.”

Kaoru shrugs, foregoing manners as he speaks and munches on the bread at the same time. “My mind is clear, my thoughts aren’t confused in the least.”

“Right. What time is it?”

Kaoru looks at the time displayed on his TV box, sitting on the stand pushed against the opposite wall of where they’re sitting. He squints at the numbers, slightly blurry despite his glasses still resting on his nose. He has no idea what time it is.

“Eleven forty-seven,” Kaoru announces.

“No, it’s twelve forty-seven,” Kojirou snickers. “Finish that, take a shower and go to bed.”

“And you’re going to stay here and take up space in my apartment?”

“Well, if your event hadn’t run for so long, I would have spent some time with you anyway since it’s your birthday. So I might as well stay until you fall asleep.”

Several things get jumbled in his head at that moment, and Kaoru stares at Kojirou in disbelief. There’s something funny and warm happening in the pit of his stomach.

“You have nothing else to do,” Kaoru asks, or accuses—he doesn’t know how his voice comes across.

“Just go to sleep, Kaoru.”

Kojirou takes the empty glass from Kaoru’s hands and puts it on the table. He then tugs Kaoru upright, holding his wrists in a gentle and careful grip, as if Kaoru will break if he’s not handled in the most delicate manner. Half of the second slice of bread is lying abandoned in the plate, but Kaoru doesn’t particularly mind as he realizes, with strange clarity, that this isn’t unpleasant to be taken care of like this. Kojirou is smiling at him with his most genuine expression, and Kaoru has to look down to avoid his gaze, embarrassed and fulfilled and relieved all at once.

28.

It’s been a long time coming, Kaoru thinks as his fingers tangle in Kojirou’s hair and he brings him closer, always closer to him. The night is warm and too uncomfortable for a spring day, but the heat twisting his stomach is from something entirely separate. His lips meet Kojirou’s endlessly, like this act alone will make him absorb whatever Kojirou is willing to give to him for safekeeping. It’s the first time they’re kissing and yet it feels like they should have been doing this for years now, hiding under the shade of a tree or behind a rocky wall to share a private moment together, in a pocket of time that will burst only when they decide to drop all pretenses.

He knows it’s been a long time coming, because Kojirou is laughing against his lips, and when Kaoru cracks an eye open he sees how open and fond Kojirou’s face is. Kaoru immediately wants to close his eyes again and to stop noticing how luminous everything has become.

“We’re so dumb,” Kojirou says.

“You are stupid, for holding back all those years,” Kaoru retorts.

“Yeah, now it’s my fault for being considerate of your feelings towards me.”

“If you believed for one instant that I’d cut ties with you, then you’re more foolish than I thought you were.”

Kojirou still has hi arms wound around Kaoru’s back, and when he shrugs he presses Kaoru closer to himself. There is no anger and no regret in his eyes or his posture, as though nothing in the world would strip him of the bliss he’s currently being filled with. Kaoru finds himself drunk on the sight.

“I didn’t think that, no. I was just too scared of doing anything that will cause a shift in our relationship.”

The words sound strange, once Kaoru hears them spoken out loud. Kojirou is the one constant in his life that never changed, a shadow at his back and a light guiding him. They’ve both seen each other at their worst and their best, tending to bruises and squeezing a shoulder in comfort or riling each other up as part of their routine. Kojirou is an entity that exists at Karou’s side, full of familiarity and overflowing with kindness that doesn’t need to be voiced.

Kojirou is stupid for ever having hesitated or doubted the strength of their bond. But Kaoru is stupid, too, for simply taking what Kojirou was offering without ever giving back properly.

“We’re never having this conversation again,” Kaoru warns, tugging at Kojirou’s hair and pressing his forehead against his. “I trust you, Kojirou. I always have. This isn’t going to change.”

Kojirou is clinging to every one of his words, looking at Kaoru with the most enraptured expression he’s ever shown. Like this is a dream that cannot be real. Kaoru scowls.

“Don’t look so surprised, gorilla. That’s not a secret.”

“I’m not surprised, I’m simply enjoying that you’re saying it at all,” Kojirou laughs.

“You never say anything pleasant about me either.”

“You’re the one who barges into my restaurant and half the time demand dishes that aren’t even on the menu, and I still cook them! I’m being nice enough!”

“What else would you do in a restaurant, muscles for brain ape?”

“I don’t know, cook a dish I have the actual ingredients for?”

Kaoru’s lips are pulled upward despite everything, his heart as light as ever in Kojirou’s presence. The ease surrounding them remains the same, electric veil sealing them in their own brand of intimacy they wouldn’t trade for anything else.

It feels effortless, then, to switch to a less barbed attitude but still retaining playfulness. Kaoru brushes strands of hair out of Kojirou’s face, and Kojirou runs a thumb under Kaoru’s eye.

“It’s my birthday at the end of the week,” Kaoru whispers, locking eyes with Kojirou. “Take me somewhere nice.”

“Bossy as ever,” Kojirou sighs, though his voice sounds like contentment and bliss contained in a space called home.

Kaoru smiles.

#matchablossom #joecherry #matcha blossom #kaoru sakurayashiki #kojiro nanjo #sk8 #sk8 the infinity #kaoru is like 'i know i have feelings but i'm making the decision of not seeing them'#i'm fascinated by his change from punk high schooler to stoic adult #i also have more thoughts about kaoru+calligraphy relationship that i'll eventually write down #when i have the time o(-(

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taeyongdoyoung · 4 years

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summary: the forest is your only escape from the everyday troubles with your family until you find danger lurking behind the trees. or rather, danger finds you. your fateful encounter with the vampire ravn leaves you wishing for a different life. you strike an unexpected deal with the stranger that will soon turn into something more…

pairing: vampire!ravn x reader

side characters: leedo and seoho

genre: vampire!au, angst, romance, humour

warnings: kidnapping, cleithrophobia, manipulation, lies, human trashnaming, blood mentions, stabbing, swearing (like twice)

word count: 2.5k

author’s note: @mariuscheng i deeply apologize, you’ll see why *mwah*

part one 🌙 part two 🌙 part three 🌙 part four 🌙 part five 🌙 part six 🌙 part seven 🌙 part eight 🌙 part nine 🌙 part ten 🌙 part twelve 🌙epilogue

Minutes turned into hours and hours into days. You began to lose track of time. You had no idea how long you’d spent in this terrifying place where Leedo had taken you to. You just wanted to go back home. Not where your parents were, no. That had never felt like home. You wanted to be back in Ravn’s castle, in the safety of his arms. He was the one…well, not person, but rather being who had treasured you and cared for you like nobody else.

And no matter how hard you tried to convince Leedo that you would never change your mind and love him the way he wanted you to, he just refused to let you go. Which only frustrated you further. You felt like a bird in a cage and that feeling was the worst in the world. You needed to think of a way to escape. But how? These metal bars were so hard. And Leedo never let you out of sight. True, he never physically harmed you or forced you to do anything.

But the mere fact he had kidnapped you, taken you away from the place you called home was enough of a red flag to change your friendly feelings for him into something that resembled distrust and annoyance. Since you couldn’t find a way to escape, your only hope was that Ravn wouldn’t give up on you. Maybe he would come for you.

As more days passed by, you realized you were on your own. Harbouring hopes was foolish and would do you no good. You could either die or make peace with your current situation. Or…you could try something else entirely. Something wicked and a bit cruel, but it could work, nonetheless. And since you weren’t in the mood for dying and you weren’t one to give up so easily, you decided to go for it.

“I changed my mind,” you told Leedo one day, the lie coming out easily. “I’m willing to give you a chance. I can try…to love you like you need me to.”

Leedo eyed you suspiciously. He doubted the sincerity of your words. And for a good reason.

“Do you expect me to let you go, then? Just like that?”

Actually, it wouldn’t be such a bad idea. But of course not. You weren’t that stupid.

“Someday, you will,” you responded, attempting to sound absolutely convinced by the validity of your statement. “Give it time.”

A desperate wish for it to be true appeared in Leedo’s stare. Good. Let him dream.

“Really? You’re willing to try?”

“I am if you are,” you lied once more. What’s another one? You’ve come so far…

“What about the vampire you claim you care about?” Leedo reminded you, which briefly troubled you. But you had to play your cards right if you wanted out of here. You had to deceive Leedo successfully in order to go back to the one you truly loved.

“Well, you were right about him. He’s just a cold-skinned bloodsucker. You could be so much better for me,” the words sent pangs of guilt down your spine as you pronounced them. You didn’t mean any of it, of course. But you had to try your best to convince Leedo you did. If you couldn’t escape on your own, you could manipulate him into letting you go. You only hoped that you were good enough an actress to make this work.

“I’m glad you’re finally beginning to see the error of your ways. We could be so good together, you and I.”

You resisted the urge to vomit. He was delusional. But you had to play along.

“Sure, we could. Now, tell me,” you murmured in what you were wishing sounded like a seductive voice, “What does a girl like me have to do to get some fresh air and a bit of sun around here?”

Leedo laughed. He obviously wasn’t as dumb as you’d hoped he’d turn out to be.

“Not yet. But we’ll get there, I promise. I’ve been very patient with you. What’s a couple more weeks?”

Weeks? If you had to spend another night in this godforsaken place, you would die. You had to get out of here soon or you would lose your mind.

“Right,” you attempted not to sound too crestfallen about it. “Well, until then, we could get to know each other better.”

Leedo smiled.

“What do you want to know?”

🌙🌙🌙

Ravn’s POV

As soon as I found Seoho, I told him everything that had happened and begged him to help me find her. I couldn’t live without her and I had no intention of letting her go. He listened to my pleas calmly, without saying a word. When I was finally done, he spoke:

“Of course, I will help you,” Seoho started. “Even though I don’t trust humans…”

“I’m sensing there’s a big but coming.”

“But I’m afraid we might be too late.”

“Too late?” I whispered, immediately panicking. “Is she dead? Did the werewolf do something to her?”

Seoho shook his head in a composed manner.

“That’s not what I meant. Too late as in…she might have betrayed your secret. You could be in danger, Ravn. You don’t want what almost happened to Xion to happen to you, do you?”

“Y/N’s not like that, I swear. She would never do this to me.”

“Alright, then. Do you have something of hers so that I could cast a locating spell?”

I nodded and handed him one of the books I’d gifted her a while ago. She would read from it every night before sleep. I figured it was her most prized possession.

“Shakespeare, huh?” Seoho chuckled. “Okay, just…go sit in the other room, don’t distract me and I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

I agreed, even though it was impossible for me to sit and stay calm in this current predicament. I was losing my mind. I had to find her soon. What if she was hurt? What if…I never got the chance to see her again? The chance to…tell her everything she meant to me…Tell her…

“She’s near the river in that forest of yours. In some sort of…prison cave,” Seoho informed me a while later.

I wasted no time and stormed out of the room without even bothering to thank my best friend. He’d understand, I told myself. But before I could make it outside of his house, Seoho had teleported next to me and grabbed my hand.

“Where do you think you’re going, lad?” he scolded me. “I’m coming with you.”

“I can’t ask you to…risk exposure. I know how much your secret means to you.”

Seoho obviously disagreed with me.

“You’re not asking. I’ll come on my own free will. You’re my best friend, Ravn. If you care about that foolish human, I feel it is my duty to help you out.”

“Seoho, you really don’t have to…”

“No time for arguing,” he shut me up. “And besides, me teleporting us there would be much faster than your vampire speed.”

I laughed wholeheartedly at his sensible observation.

“Lead the way, powerful wizard.”

Before I could blink, we were standing near the river. Closeby, there was indeed a cave that I had never seen before. I had heard rumours of its existence but never laid eyes upon it. So strange…I rushed ahead, eager to save Y/N from whatever torments that…dog had put her through. But before I could do so, Seoho stopped me once again.

“What now?” I complained because of his apparent eagerness to slow me down.

“Before we go in there, there’s something you should now.”

“Just say it already, the tension is killing me,” I groaned.

“Ravn. You’re already dead,” Seoho reminded me.

“Not helping, Seoho,” I sighed.

“Okay, okay, sorry. Y/N must be nearby so I…heard a fraction of her memories. She had just told that werewolf something very disturbing about you. I’m not sure I can even say it, it’s too vile.”

“Just go ahead,” I rolled my eyes. What could possibly be worse than losing her?

“She said and I quote here, so please, don’t get mad at the messenger ‘He’s just a cold-skinned bloodsucker. You could be so much better for me.’ Listen, man, it’s highly possible that her and the werewolf have been working against you. I told you that humans can’t be trusted!”

I shook my head, refusing to believe him.

“No, that can’t be true. Are you sure you heard it correctly? It must have been the wind or…”

Seoho, however, was determined that she had, in fact said that.

“I’m telling you, it’s best we get out of here. It could be a trap. We don’t know what we’re walking into, Ravn! Humans are such wicked creatures, it’s not safe.”

“No, no,” I repeated helplessly. “I can’t just leave her here. I love her, okay? And even if she doesn’t love me back, even if she did say these things about me, I still can’t let anything happen to her.”

Seoho scoffed in disbelief.

“It’s your funeral, mate.”

I shrugged.

“Like you said earlier. I’m already dead.”

I hurried towards the entrance of the cave.

“Then I’d rather die by your side than just stand outside like a coward!” Seoho yelled right behind me.

“If you’re scared for your life, you don’t have to come in. I won’t blame you, I’ll understand,” I reassured my friend.

“I’m not scared for my life. It’s you I’m worried about,” Seoho replied.

“While I’m sincerely touched,” I squeezed his arm. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“Not against a werewolf, you’re not. Dumbass,” he added that last part affectionately.

“Well, two dumb brains are always better than one,” I joked and the two of us went inside.

🌙🌙🌙

Reader’s POV

This shit wasn’t working. You were being so nice and pliable to Leedo and he still hadn’t let you go! Ugh, men! You wanted out so badly but you couldn’t risk being too forthright about it or it would ruin all the careful planning, all the progress you’d been making so far. Just a few more days, you kept telling myself. Just a few more and he’d believe you. You had to be strong enough to continue with the lies, with the whole acting scheme. They would be successful. Or you didn’t know what you’d do with yourself. You missed everything so badly. You missed holding Ravn’s hand. You missed reading books in his big…library. You missed making flower crowns for him. You even missed him drinking your blood. To think that the one time you’d found a home for yourself…only to have it taken away from you so cruelly. It was really unfair. You had never before been in a situation where you had to deceive someone on purpose. You had never wished ill upon anyone. So, for whatever crimes you were being punished, you couldn’t help but get frustrated by the injustice of it all. Just when you were getting entirely lost in the memories, Leedo interrupted your thoughts.

“You know…I was thinking we could have a walk. I won’t let you out of my sight, so don’t try anything stupid.”

Was this actually happening? Or were you dreaming?

“Of course not. I told you already. I changed my mind.”

“Good,” Leedo gave you an encouraging smile, which you desperately wanted to wipe off his smug face. No sooner had he unlocked the metal door leading to the outside world, to the light, to freedom, than you heard unexpected noises coming from somewhere nearby. Was it possible? Had he really come for you?

Seconds later, you were greeted by a heavenly sight. Ravn and Seoho were only a couple of metres away from you. Never before had you felt so grateful to see such familiar faces! You immediately forgot all about your plan to deceive Leedo and rushed into Ravn’s arms. He let you hold him but didn’t say a word, simply welcoming you silently. But why? You had missed the sound of his voice.

“It was a trick, wasn’t it?” Leedo finally realized. “You never loved me, you just said all these things so I’d let you go, didn’t you?”

You gulped nervously and even though you didn’t want to leave the comfort of Ravn’s arms, you felt like you had to confront Leedo yourself.

“Yes, it was all a lie. I never meant any of it,” you confessed.

Ravn gave Seoho a pointed look, which at the time, you didn’t understand.

“Well, I don’t care. If I can’t have you, then neither can he,” Leedo attacked Ravn before you could register what was happening. You wished you could do something other than beg them to stop, but you were so scared that you could barely move. They were going to kill each other right in front of you and you were too frozen to think. Luckily, Seoho’s reflexes worked faster than yours. He hurriedly got between them, trying to make them stop. However, before he could do so, Leedo accidentally pierced him in the stomach with a blade that had somehow appeared from thin air and Seoho stumbled onto the ground. You ran to his side and knelt down next to the magician.

“Oh, God, are you okay?” you asked.

Seoho nodded weakly.

“I didn’t mean to stab him,” Leedo defended himself. “I meant to kill the bloodsucker!”

“Oh, right, ‘cause that makes us all feel so much better!” you hissed sarcastically.

“Just…stop fighting and ask the girl who she wants to be with, you imbeciles!” Seoho murmured before passing out.

“Shit,” you and Ravn swore simultaneously, desperately trying to help Seoho regain consciousness.

“You didn’t answer the question,” Leedo pointed out.

“Is that really your biggest concern right now?” you snapped at him. “Seoho could literally die because of you!”

Leedo looked away as if it wasn’t any of his concern. That bastard…

“I want to stay with Ravn and help Seoho, in case it wasn’t obvious,” you spelled it out.

Leedo nodded and started walking away wordlessly. In the meantime, you were pressing your hand against Seoho’s wound so that he wouldn’t die from the blood loss.

“If I ever see you again, I will kill you,” Ravn vowed, giving Leedo an icy glare.

“Likewise,” Leedo roared and left you all in that damn cave.

Once he was out of earshot, you noticed Ravn slowly backing away from Seoho.

“There’s so much blood,” he panted weakly.

“Fuck, I almost forgot,” you were worried for a second that Ravn would lose control. Despite the fact that Seoho was his best friend, it was only natural that he was disturbed by the smell and look of it.

“I don’t want to hurt him,” Ravn closed his eyes, pained and ashamed to admit that he was so easily affected.

“You won’t. You should get out of here and bring me supplies from your castle. Herbs, medicine, anything you can find,” you sensibly suggested. “It’s my fault he got hurt in the first place. If it hadn’t been for my friendship with Leedo, none of this would have happened,” you couldn’t help but blame yourself for it all.

“It’s not your fault you see the good in people. And…I’ll do what you asked. We’ll talk more when I return, promise.”

You nodded.

“I’ll stay with Seoho and try to stop the bleeding.”

“Thank you,” Ravn said and ran outside at the speed of light.

To be continued…

#oneus #ravn #ravn x reader #twilight #oneus fanfic #kim youngjo #leedo #seoho #ravn angst #romance #vampire au #vampires #writing

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thoughtfullyyoungduck · 4 years

Text

I don’t care

summarry: a reddie x daughter where the losers are over and the daughter comes home from school with a minor injury and they later found out she was bullied. so they give her tips and maybe even fighting lessons lol

A/N: this was requested by anon I hope you enjoy!

warnings: homophobia as reason for the bullying

Water sloshes over the sides as Richie dives headfirst into the pool. It drenches Stan’s trousers, who shoots a murderous look towards Richie resurfacing with a deep breath.

‘Refreshing’, he comments, shaking a full body shiver at the change of temperature. Chloe watches from afar, disposing her bookbag on the grass with a loud clutter. Weekend arrives and she’s eager to start the plans scheduled. On Friday a pool party, on Saturday a trip on uncle Ben’s boat, and for the last day they’re going to see Richie perform live on stage.

All the losers promised they’d make it, and they did, it’s been a while since the group has reunited, work and personal issue getting in the way, but none of that matters. Sometimes Chloe thinks there’s no way they won’t get mad at one another when someone cancels yet again, but then the rejoins puts her at ease. They care for each other more than enough to stop a small, unimportant thing from ruining it. Most scattered around the pool, like uncle Stan and Chloe’s pops in the water, but her dad and uncle Bill stood a far end away from water range, a smart decision Stan begrudgingly had to admit.

'The prodicale child has returned, Richie enthusiastically announced, waving his arms back and forth. ‘Mini me is back.’

The losers greet her, warm smiles and gentle hands pulling her in a hug. Bill’s positively buzzed, the butt of many jokes at his expense of how much of a lightweight the man really is. The first try to capture Chloe in an embrace goes haywire, and if it wasn’t for Mike supporting his weight, he would have fallen face first.

It sends the rest of the groups in hysterics, not including Bill, blushing red tainted cheeks. ‘Already uncle Bill?’ Chloe goads, covering the underside of the drink in his hand in case he loosens his grip.

Waving of the concerns, Bill wobbles, aided by Mike, back to the sun chair to rest. Eddie motions a soda her way, wordlessly asking if she wants one.

‘Yeah, but I’m going to go change first.’

Her shirt is too tight for the humidity hanging in the air, and she longs for a swim, so she needs swimming attire in order to do that anyway.

----

‘Oh absolutely not’, Bev declares stiffly, her mouth set in a straight line and hands on her hips. ‘There’s no way any niece of mine is wearing that.’

Richie cackles, his head thrown back in amusement over Beverly’s reaction, following her gaze to his daughter, wearing a Hawaiian long-sleeved shirt over her bathing suit.

Chloe follows his laughter, doing a pirouette to show off her t-shirt. ‘I think it’s cool.’

‘You’re only saying that because Richie brainwashed you.’

‘I agree with Bev, one Richie fashion disaster is more than I can adequately handle,’ Stan concurred, heaving a sigh at Richie’s childish reaction of sticking out his tongue.

‘It’s not like she’s wearing it to school Beverly, and if my daughter sees me as a fashion icon, than I think we should respect that. Fuck knows she’s the smartest among us.’

A little cough draws his attention, and Stan does nothing to hide his intend.

‘Okay well Stan is up there.’

‘Please kid, I’m begging, don’t become a second Richie. Fight those parts of you that stem from him.’

‘Hey fucking excuse you, she’s my daughter too.’ Eddie heatedly adds, chopping his hand through the air to drive the point home.

‘who’s w-w-who’s d-d-daughter?’ A stutter the predominant tell that Bill is well on his way to being hammered.

‘Shut up Bill, you’re too drunk to participate in this conversation.’

Chloe giggles, knowing that the teasing remarks from her family are just that, teasing. She then finally steps closer towards the pool. The grass beneath her bare feet is strangely relaxing, the sensations of little pricks reminding her of summer days and ice creams.

‘Come her,’ aunt Bev beckons, her hand circling around the small indents of nails in Chloe’s underarm.

Without realization, she hisses in pain, retracting her hand and covering the sore spot with her remaining hand. The playful mood everyone participated in pops like a bubble.

Beverly blinks in shock, surprised by the reaction. The chatting in the pool ends abruptly, the remnants of an engaging conversation ebbing away.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah, just peachy.’ A bird flies overhead, chirping away, an excellent escape out of the conversation Chloe refuses the hold in front of everyone.

‘Uncle Stan, what kind of bird is that?’

Stan eyes her suspiciously, not uttering a word to help her, and Chloe glowers at him. Thanks for nothing.

‘Let me see please’, Eddie asks his cheeks blown out, worry etched across his face. At this point, Chloe is trapped. She can’t deny something is wrong, and she can’t withhold her arm because that would make everyone even more suspicious.

‘Fine,’ she grumbles, bunching the fabric of the long sleeved shirt to reveal indents of fingernails buried in her skin, not sever enough to be of any concern, but bad enough that it is visible.

‘Chloe,’ Eddie perturbs, his fingers hovering above the wounds while he mulls over what to do in his head. ‘What happened?’

In one smooth motions, Richie lifts himself out of the water and strides resolutely their way, blind without his glasses on but still thoughtfully studying the body-langue of both Eddie and Chloe. He stoops down to inspect the wounds himself, than straightens up and tries his best to stare straight in his daughter eyes, missing by half a mile.

‘Someone did that to you?’ The intentions makes it sound like a question, but it’s a statement, and one that is impossible to refute. Nail marks aren’t accidental.

‘Did you get these cleaned?’ Eddie frets, his left hand coercing her to move to the kitchen, where they keep an emergency kid. Richie has had one to many mishaps in there.

It’s a sure sign that Eddie is freaking out and building up to an anxiety attack, worrying and fretting over someone to release part of the stress before it bubbles over.

‘Dad’, Chloe mumbles miserably, planting her feet in the ground to resist any prodding. ‘It’s not that bad.’

‘Who did this angle cake?’

‘Just someone from school alright. It’s not a big deal.’

‘Honey, It is. No one is allowed to hurt you in any way,’ Bev argues, her chin jutting out, only calmed by Ben’s presence.

‘Is there anything we can do? T-t-talk to whoever did this? A teacher? Say the word and we’re on it.’ Bill’s positively sobered up thanks to the severity of the topic of conversation, he fumbled over his words only once.

‘Beat him or her up? I’m not afraid if it’s a girl, I’ll hit anyone who tries to put their hands on my baby.’

‘Yes and don’t listen to uncle Ben, he might say something fucking stupid like we’ll talk to whoever did this calmly.’

‘Yes, cause that’s the best option Richie-‘

‘It has nothing to do with me okay? And I doubt she even planned on physically hurting me. I tried to remove myself from the situation, and instead of letting me walk away, she tried to keep me in place by grabbing me. Hence the superficially’, Chloe aimed the word at her dad, ‘scratches.’

‘It obviously has something to do with you. Why else go after you?’ Stan probes. The way he talks and demands thing without having to raise his voice is fascinating, like he can bend anyone to do what he pleases without breaking a sweat.

‘Because’, Chloe pinched the bridge of nose, contemplating her chances of resolving the situation without admitting what it was all about, but between her protective fathers and the solicitous of the losers, she estimated her shots slim to none.

‘Because she believes homosexuality is wrong and that dad and pops are wrong for loving each other.’

Richie grimaces bitterly, slumping his shoulders and sneering at the words sinking in. ‘Like Bowers all over again’, he spits furiously, bailing his hands into fist. Next to him, Eddie is pensively staring at the wounds on Chloe’s hand, shame speed racing through his body for him and Richie being the reason this happened to their daughter.

‘Chlo, I’m so so sorry.’

‘No. Don’t you dare apologies. It doesn’t matter. Not to me anyway. She’s a bitch, and she’s wrong for her opinion, but I can’t make her see your relationship the way I see this. I can’t force her to open her mind and broaden her horizons, then I’ll be equally as bad. I love you guys, and I don’t care you’re gay. If other people do that’s their problem and not mine. I hid the comments as I knew they would hurt you, but we know better than them. I’m going to continue living my life open and excepting of everyone and everything and she will walk around angry and upset at everything in the world she considers unnatural. There’s no outcome in which she wins, except if we let her words bother us.’

With a gentle pull, Chloe buries herself under her dads chin, tucked away in safety as her pops caresses her hair and presses a kiss there.

‘I’m so proud of you.’ Eddie confesses, barely understandable with his voice cracking through the lump in his throat. ‘Don’t ever forget how much we love you.’

‘We’ll have to discus some precautions. Like a buddy system or some shit. Or maybe Mike can teach you some strength exercises.’ Richie ponders, thinking ahead on how to avoid a situation ever again occurring. ‘But yeah, we really couldn’t have a better daughter.’

#reddie #reddie x daughter #My writing #richie as a parent #eddie as a parent #richie as a dad #eddie as a dad #it chapter two imagine #the loser club imagines #richie x eddie

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keig-hoe-takami · 4 years

Text

Chapter 6

Masterlist

‘Are we sure this is all of them?’ Ichirou said, looking anxiously around the room as her heart pounded in her chest,

‘We’ll just have to make sure we’re ready on the way down, now come on. We’ve gotta go save the others!’ Kirishima replied, ‘Since we got warped here, that must mean the others are also still inside USJ.’

‘But Kiri-‘ Ichirou started,

‘Chirou, we rushed ahead to attack, so Sensei was forced to hang back when they could have been sucking up the black mist. We need to take responsibility.’

‘And we are, but we-‘

“If you wanna go, go by yourself. I’m just gonna go murder that warp gate motherfucker.’ Bakugou finally spoke,

‘Now of all times, you come out with lines a little kid would say… plus physical attacks against that guy are…’

‘Shut it!’

‘Both of you shut it!’ Ichirou barged in, hushing the two boys, ‘We need to help Aizawa- Sensei as soon as possible.’

‘What?’ Kirishima looked confused,

‘Didn’t you see- he’s against all those villains and eventually one of them is gonna sneak up behind him and he wont be able to use his quirk.’

‘But what about the rest of our class.’ Kiri replied,

‘I mean,’ Bakugou began, setting off an explosion at an approaching villain that had Ichirou’s ears ringing, ‘If he assigned these useless idiots to us, they oughta be fine.’

‘I think this is the first time I’ve seen you so calm, man.’ Kirishima smiled,

‘I’m always calm, you fucking hair for brains!!!’ Bakugou exclaimed as Kiri and Ichirou shared an amused look,

‘We need to get going. Do you agree, Bakugou?’ Ichirou said, rubbing at her sensitive ears,

‘As long as I still get to murder that damn warp gate.’ He replied,

‘Cool, I’ll set off first then!’

‘Wait, what do you mean?’ Kirishima looked anxious,

‘’M gonna run super fast- I’ll be fine!’ Ichirou said, already halfway to the door and completely ignoring Kirishima’s protests.

Unluckily for Ichirou, the destruction zone seemed to be located at the back corner of the USJ, meaning she had some way to run before reaching Aizawa. Okay girl, Ichirou thought at her wolf brain, we cant go too fast, need to conserve energy. Halfway towards her goal, Ichirou ran almost completely into Todoroki, who also seemed to be making his way to Aizawa’s battle.

‘Hey! Todoroki.’ Ichirou waved as she tried to slow down,

‘Hello, Sato.’ Todoroki replied,

‘You know Kirishima and Bakugou are probably right behind us, you could wait for them.’ The girl blurted, unsure of what else to say to her classmate.

‘So could you.’ He responded, bluntly,

‘Oh well yeah, I suppose I could. But I’m trying to run fast is all. For Sensei’

‘That’s helpful.’

‘Yes, yes it is. Bye then.’ Ichirou cringed inwardly at her awkwardness towards the handsome boy,

‘Goodbye.’

Ichirou finally stopped. Surveying the scene in front of her. Aizawa was being torn, practically limb from limb by the terrifying bird-like monster the villains had brought with them. His head being crushed repeatedly into the ground as he hung limp. From her insecure hiding space behind a tree, Ichirou could make out the silhouettes of three students in the water. There was another man, slouched over and seemingly weighed down by the arms decorating his body. He was the one who wanted them dead. Without thinking, Ichirou burst out from the tree, running at top speed towards the scene in front of her, ‘Sensei!” she screamed as she propelled herself into the air, nearing her target. Eyes flashed red as claws sprung from her fingertips. The villains looked at her, the inhuman brute raising its head to search for its attacker and in turn exposing its neck. Ichirou took her chance, bringing her claws down in the tender flesh as she heard a cry from the water behind her. Suddenly, the world around her snap, she was whipped from her trajectory as a huge hand enveloped itself around her body, tearing her away as she felt a seeming pain in her fingers. She couldn’t breath, couldn’t move, couldn’t feel a thing except a the crushing pain in her torso.

‘NO!’ Ichirou cried out as her world turned upside down, ‘No, No! Stop.’ Her voice was hoarse and croaking as the blue haired villain made his way towards her.

‘Oh my, so brave aren’t you? Trying to save your dear teacher. The Symbol of Peace would be so proud.’ He laughed. A cold, heartless laugh as he reached forward. ‘I suppose we’ll have to make an example out of you then.’ Suddenly, the black mist appeared behind the villains head, ‘Shigaraki Tomura.’

Shigaraki turned away from Ichirou, and the girl didn’t think she’d been so glad to see a villain in a long time. ‘Black mist. Then is No 13 dead?’

‘I have incapacitated him. However, I’m afraid the students whom I could not scatter impeded me… and he was therefore able to escape with his life.’ Ichirou smiled through the pain, making eye contact with the students in the water. Tsuyu smiled back, though Ichirou could tell the girl was just as terrified as she was.

‘Its game over,’ Shigaraki groaned, ‘Its game over… for now. Shall we hop back?’

Hop? Ichirou questioned, and what the hell did he mean by ‘game over’

‘Actually, before that why don’t we use this opportunity to take the Symbol of Peace’s pride down a notch!’ The villain finished as he lunged at the students in the water,

‘No!! Stop!’ Ichirou yelled as she swung in the monsters grip, legs kicking as she tried to ignore the pulsing pain in her hand.

A hand covered Tsuyu’s face, but nothing was happening. Ichirou looked down at her teacher who seemed to be nearly awake. Was he erasing the villains quirk? Even in his state?

‘You really are a cool guy Erasurehead.’ Shigaraki said, defeatedly.

Suddenly, a splash sounded from besides the commotion as Midoriya rushed forward.

‘Let go of her!’ He screamed as he aimed for Shigaraki’s head. He was going to use his quirk, break his arm- and then what? He was just as foolish as Ichirou had been.

‘Nomu.’ Shigaraki whispered, and Ichirou felt flying through the air impossibly fast, the Nomu still clutching her as he came to a stop in front of the boy. No.

Everything seemed to happen at once, Tsuyus tongue flew towards Midoriya as Shigaraki lunged forwards again, aiming his hands for Ichirou’s classmates faces. And all she could do was sit there, suspended in midair.

‘Have no fear. For I have come!’ Ichirou could barely make out All Mights figure from her position, but she had never been happier to hear those words in her life.

‘Looks like we got a continue.’ Shigaraki smiled beneath the hand, ‘Drop her.’

At his command, Ichirou felt herself flung through the air, pain blooming throughout her body as she finally took in a full breath. Her sweet freedom didn’t last long as she was met with the back of her head cracking against a pure concrete wall, the rest of her body slumping to the rough ground. Fucks sake she thought to herself as she saw All Might pick up the other students through blurry eyes, ‘I missed the bus!’ The bruised girl giggled at her own stupid joke as she felt her eyes droop lower, ears pounding as she lay her head back.

‘Rou! Rou, can you hear me?’ A concerned voice brought Ichirou back to the real world,

‘She’s unconscious, shitty hair’ Ichirou felt herself shifted as a gruff voice sounded above her

‘You’re supposed to talk to them still! I read it in a book!’

‘Tch whatever.’

“Just let me carry her man!’ The other voice seemed to plead as Ichirou felt a hand grab her own, she groaned in discomfort,

‘Stop moving her, dammit! We’ll hurt her more if we move her.’

‘But that means she awake? Right? She groaned so she’s alive!’ Ichirou’s eyelids fluttered open slowly, barely able to make a move,

‘Wha- I. What?’ Ichirou could barely form a sentence as she looked up at the blonde angel above her,

‘You hurt yourself, okay? We’re taking you home.’ Ichirou nodded slightly at the boy carrying her in his arms, ‘Now go to sleep, runt.’

‘Kay, boom-boom’ Ichirou mumbled as she pressed her head further into the crook of the boys elbow.

authors note: Sorry this chapters kinda short, I wanted to save the next part for ch7 so hopefully that will be longer!! Also peep erasurdust 💘💖💝💗

Taglist @jazzylove

#bnha #bakugou katsuki #bakugou #mha #bakugou x oc #bakugou x reader #boku no hero academia #katsuki bakugo #mha bakugou #my hero academia

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laniidae-passerine · 5 years

Text

See, the big problem with Hitch is that he talks a lot about himself, but it’s near impossible to tell if he’s lying or not.

So, I’m going to collect information about him from the books that I think is either most definitely true or could possibly be true. Any other information I’ll discount as a lie or impossible to tell if it’s true, and I won’t write it down. Reminder that I don’t own books 2 or 3 and there are spoilers! below. Let’s begin!

Look Into My Eyes

He’s first described as basically a knockout stunner who walked out of almost everyone’s dreams. And so was I just not supposed to love him? Unrealistic.

“But when Ruby answered the door she was surprised to see a remarkably handsome, rather tall, formally dressed man. He was neither particularly young nor would he ever be considered in any way old - in fact it was impossible to really put any accurate age on him.” [page 46]

He’s apparently a man of culture, because he instantly knows what designer Sabina is talking about in regards to her jacket.

“‘Well it is an Oscar Birdet, maybe they felt a little out their depth?’” [page 51]

While he’s obviously very good at his job, he’s not so humble as to not be pleased with himself. He knows he’s good at what he does.

“Ruby looked up to see the amused face of Hitch. He looked kind of pleased with himself, which irritated her.” [page 55]

He’s surprised by just how observant Ruby is, clearly underestimating her right out of the gate.

“‘I’m surprised you noticed (my arm injury).’ And he was surprised too; he thought he had concealed his arm injury well.” [page 56]

Even a man of taste can’t help showing off, and it seems like every guy with enough money lining his pockets likes a nice car, as indicated by his colour choice in convertible.

“‘Well that might explain the flashy car - he’s got this silver convertible.’” [page 62]

He knows a stylist?

“Hope you approve. Had my stylist friend Billie pick these things out for you - she’s good at that kind of thing. Hitch.” [page 81]

He doesn’t have a peanut allergy, lucky him.

“He looked up, startled, and immediately began to spread it with peanut butter. ‘Toast?’ he said.” [page 81]

I am physically aching with how much Lauren Child loves to remind us how hot Hitch is - give us a break, or else I might cry with how good looking he is. But just in case you forgot, let’s remind ourselves about how Hitch is the most attractive man alive! Also, he’s got brown or hazel eyes, Mrs Bexenheath hasn’t decided yet.

“Mrs Bexenheath, the school secretary, looked up to see at what first glance she imagined to be some Hollywood film star. It was as if he had accidentally strayed off the ‘walk of fame’ and wandered unwittingly into the shabby halls of Twinford Junior High - so entirely out of place was he. However, this handsome man struck up and easy conversation with her and before a minute had passed Mrs Bexenheath had found herself agreeing to excuse Ruby Redfort from all lessons for the foreseeable future. She had concentrated carefully, all the while staring into his Hollywood eyes, wondering if they were brown or were they hazel.” [pages 105 and 106]

He knows he’s so attractive that he can just make stuff up and like Ruby, he’s one hell of a liar.

“‘Well, it seems that your grandmother had contracted a rare but not infectious virus while bird watching in the Australian Alps - condition, serious,’ Hitch said, turning the key in the ignition. ‘There are no Australian Alps,’ said Ruby. ‘Well someone should have told your grandmother that because now look at her.’” [page 106]

Hitch doesn’t know shit about children or teenagers until he meets Ruby, and that’s a goddamn fact.

“‘Buzz, give the kid a little tour of the gadget room,’ said Hitch. ‘That’ll keep her out of trouble.’ He was wrong about that.” [page 110]

Now for the moment that made me think he was cute when I reread the books as a teen - he’s not above messing with people and enjoys a good joke now and then.

“‘OK,’ said Hitch, holding his finger to his temple as if he was channelling the information. ‘I’m guessing... chocolate raspberry, strawberry frosting, rainbow sprinkles - am I right?’ Elliot, speechless, handed over the donut.” [page 148 and 149]

And the moment that made me realise I adored him. God yes he’s very handsome and yes he’s got money and yes he’s a secret agent but I’d trade all of that, just for a guy who admits when he’s been stupid. And somehow he can do that while also having and being all of the above.

“When he (Hitch) came in he said, ‘Look kid, maybe part of this is my fault, I accept that, I’ve been kinda ribbing you and talking down to you - so maybe you and I need to start over?’” [page 171]

He likes some of the finer things in life.

“Back at Cedarwood Drive, Ruby went downstairs to find Hitch, who was sitting in his small but comfortable apartment, listening to music and reading some papers.” [page 178]

He’s a charmer, obviously.

“It occurred to Ruby that Consuela was rather over dressed for this task, the stiletto heels and painted fingernails seeming to be more of a hindrance than a help. She was also laughing rather too much [at Hitch’s jokes], that sort of random giggling that certain girls at Ruby’s school broke into whenever Richie Dare walked past.” [page 181]

I don’t actually think he’s assigned to Spectrum 8 - he’s apparently not a Twinfordite or based in California as he implies when he’s about to leave the Redfort house,

“‘What is it? I got a plane to catch in less than,” Hitch looked at his watch, ‘seventeen minutes.’” [page 294]

He’s got a temper on him, and can get angry rather quickly if someone’s done something stupid.

“As he drove, Hitch thought about Ruby. He was about as angry as he had ever been. What on earth had gotten into the kid?” [page 297]

He doesn’t like Froghorn a the beginning of the books and also he’s the sick in the stomach guilt kinda guy.

“Hitch was feeling horrible - the kind of guilt that causes nausea. Why hadn’t he listened, he never should have let LB assign that numbskull.” [page 328]

He owns a gun and I’d assume it’s Spectrum issued.

“You tell him kid, hissed Hitch, his hand reaching for his revolver.” [page 378]

I can’t say for sure, but I have this feeling that he and Nine Lives were kinda close in the way that you must be if you’re continually trying to kill one another. (I’ve always thought of her as being smart enough to be a Spectrum agent but always refusing Hitch’s offers to join when they were younger, and he finally gave up when she started recreationally killing but that’s just my personal head-canon!) Anyway, her death has him feeling some kinda way.

“(Valerie) looked up at Hitch. ‘You killed me?’ she said as she slid to the floor. In her left hand the diamond revolver glittered, a pool of crimson forming where she lay. For just a second the three figures were frozen. Hitch had so many times fought Nine Lives only to watch her somehow leap to her escape - wounded but always alive. Could it really be over?” [page 381]

Feel the Fear

What does Hitch fear? LB? Death? Bears? No. He fears the most dangerous thing of all - meter-maids.

“Ruby looked up to see a tall, well-groomed man in a well-cut suit standing in the room. He appeared moderately anxious. ‘Am I making you nervous?’ asked Ruby. ‘The only person making me nervous is the meter maid on 3rd Avenue where I’m double-parked.’” [page 26]

He’s a trustworthy guy, so not just all stunningly good looks then.

“That was the thing about Hitch: he kept his mouth shut. He had to: 𝘚𝘗𝘌𝘊𝘛𝘙𝘜𝘔 𝘙𝘜𝘓𝘌 1: 𝘒𝘌𝘌𝘗 𝘐𝘛 𝘡𝘐𝘗𝘗𝘌𝘋. as one of the highest-ranking agents at Spectrum 8, he was trusted with heavily classified information. He didn’t squeal for anything or anybody.” [pages 28 and 29]

He loves Ruby, most definitely, like some kinda surrogate agent dad but by god how did he end up here?

“So how had a top-notch spy wound up working undercover as a bodyguard to a thirteen year old kid? Hitch, for one, asked himself this question practically every day.” [page 29]

It’s implied he’s never worked an actual real job in his life - obviously or else he’d have the worn down look of everyone who’s ever had to take a job in retail.

“‘No Redfort, not really, at least I doubt it, but they might fire me.’ ‘That would suck,’ she said. Hitch nodded. ‘Yes it would. I’d have to go and get a real job.’ He shuddered. ‘I’m sure my parents would keep you on.’ ‘Yes,’ said Hitch. ‘That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.’” [page 50]

He never sleeps. He never looks sleepy. All a man born in 1930 knows is coffee, play his clarinet, not sleep, be bisexual, work as an agent and lie.

“Didn’t matter what time of day or night, Ruby had never caught Hitch unprepared, asleep or even on the brink of dozing off.” [page 131]

He has the dad act down to the “I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed” voice.

“At that exact moment Hitch’s voice was the best sound Ruby had ever heard, even though it in fact sounded sort of furious. He wasn’t shouting, which made it worse, his voice heavy with disappointment, his expression telling her that at that very moment he wasn’t exactly pleased to see her breathing but was relieved that he hadn’t had to pick up the Ruby-shaped pieces.” [page 176]

He is apparently knowledgeable about French Antique furniture, specifically that of the 1700’s.

“Clancy led Hitch to his mother’s dressing room and Hitch surveyed the damage. He winced, ran his fingers over the wood. ‘Pear and walnut, made in the French provinces.’ He opened the drawers and examined their construction. ‘Circa 1727, very typical.’ He looked underneath the table top; found what he was looking for. ‘Surprising.’ Then he took a magnifier from his bag, held it over the damaged wood of the table. ‘A quality piece.’” [pages 210 and 211]

Listen, when I said he had money, I wasn’t joking. To misquote somebody, I don’t love him cause he’s rich, but it sure doesn’t hurt.

“Hitch took a fat wodge of twenty dollar bills from his wallet, peeled off a large number and handed them to the guy in charge, shook them all by the hand and watched them leave.” [page 211]

Hitch implies he’s attracted to women, but that’s not news to us because he’s obviously bi, duh.

“‘I think someone just tried to kill me.’ ‘You’re looking at the next guy in line - I just happened to be having dinner two blocks away with a very charming meter maid.’” [page 322]

He’s got a vaguely recognisable aesthetic.

“Ruby knew the Charles Burger, and upmarket burger grill place, with green leather banquette seating and polished wood tables. It was very Hitch somehow.” [page 366]

He can do parkour. It’s amazing.

“‘Let me explain.’ Without warning, Hitch ran. He was across the parking lot in the blink of any eye and headed straight towards a high brick wall - but he didn’t stop, he didn’t slow his pace, he ran at the wall and then up the wall, and when he got to the top... (insert long description of very cool parkour antics)” [page 372]

I literally do not understand how this handsome superman type of guy is single. How?! HE CAN JUMP BETWEEN WHOLE BUILDINGS!

“The crowd gasped as the woman flailed in the sky, and then they gasped again to see a figure in all black fly across the spotlight’s beam to snatch her from the dark.” [pages 478 and 479]

Pick Your Poison

Nobody knows an actual fact about Hitch and it’s very painful.

“‘When it comes to Hitch, I think it’s hard to know what’s true. You think you know him but, look at it this way, what do I really have as hard evidence? Do I know anything?’ ‘You know he likes coffee,’ suggested Clancy. ‘What I know Clance,’ corrected Ruby, ‘is that Hitch drinks coffee and a lot of it, but does he drink it because he likes the taste of it or because she need to keep from falling asleep? Well, it’s anybody’s guess.’” [page 31]

In case you forgot, because it really doesn’t get said often, Hitch is very attractive.

“She didn’t immediately spot Hitch. He was browsing chickpeas: a tall, good-looking man, wearing an elegant raincoat over a dark suit.” [page 60]

Dad jokes!

“‘Isn’t this a bit inconvenient?’ said Ruby. ‘I mean, having to walk through a store every time you want to reach Spectrum?’ ‘On the contrary,’ he said. ‘It’s a convenience store.’” [page 60]

This isn’t really a fact about him, but this part always makes me laugh so here we go.

“Hitch, who was standing behind Ruby, was trying silently mouth something to SJ and making a sort of cutting motion with his hand as if to say ‘stop talking’, but SJ wasn’t reading this and instead was making it abundantly clear that she was marking this incident up as attempted murder.” [page 228]

The amount of sass contained within one man... legendary.

“‘Kid, don’t you worry about your mother, I got that covered. I have someone watching her, just a precaution.’ ‘I hadn’t noticed,’ said Ruby. Hitch looked heavenwards. ‘He’s a professional, you’re not meant to notice.’” [page 228]

This quote is pretty self explanatory.

“‘So who’s the Aikido master?’ ‘That would be me,’ said Hitch.” [page 250]

He does in fact like coffee!

“‘Same place,’ said Hitch. ‘I only told you Lucello’s because the coffee’s good.’” [page 348]

We get a rare moment of Hitch actually chilling out and eating food!

“Hitch was there, eating a Digby club sandwich (a Mrs Digby special) and he raised a hand in greeting when she walked in.” [page 393]

Even secret agents want their downtime, and are prone to laziness.

“‘You couldn’t fix it yourself?’ ‘Sure I could,’ said Hitch. ‘It’s a simple case of replacing the valve, which if I’m looking at it correctly is a 3/4 inch ceramic. But I’ve got bigger fish to fry.’ [page 394]

He’s capable of getting shouty when he’s being told he can’t do his job properly.

“‘You didn’t have any traffic,’ said Ruby, angrily, ‘you came by helicopter, and by the way I radioed for assistance more than forty minutes back.’ ‘Well, that seems unlikely since we got no call.’ They were almost shouting at each other now.” [page 476]

Just like I mentioned with Blacker, it seems Hitch contributes to some of the dark humour at Spectrum 8.

“Hitch: ‘You don’t have to convince me, you should see the state she left Baby Face in - or rather I should say, states.’ Delaware: ‘How do you mean? Where is he now?’ Hitch: ‘Well, he left his heart in San Francisco.’ Blacker: “His head was found in Monterrey.’ Hitch: ‘And his legs have yet to show.’ LB: ‘Excuse me?’ Blacker: ‘He’s a goner.” [page 503]

Blink and You Die

Both Clancy and Ruby trust their agent dad.Also, I feel like Hitch is actually the closest thing to a dad that Clancy has, because his actual dad sucks, and that just gets me.

“‘So you’re going to have to talk to Hitch. You trust him, don’t you?’ ‘A hundred per cent,’ said Ruby.” [page 96]

He’s notable for his on-time nature.

“She sat down. All the seats around her were unoccupied and there was no sign of Hitch. Mr Punctuality appeared to be late.” [page 103]

Although I think he might be lying, it seems like Hitch enjoys stargazing.

“‘I like that place,’ said Hitch. ‘The planetarium?’ ‘Yeah, like I said, I find it soothing.’” [page 108]

He’s sincere enough to convince LB to do things she doesn’t really want to and he’s got Ruby’s back to the end.

“‘Hitch has persuaded HQ that it would wise to keep up the survival skills. He seems to think you need all the protection you can get, and though you are no longer a functioning field agent or coding agent, after much consideration, I am persuaded he is right.’” [page 113]

He’s got non-verbal cues that indicate when he’s pissed off - they’re minor but they’re there.

“They talked together got a few minutes, all perfectly fine until Hitch appeared to notice something - perhaps it was to do with Froghorn’s attire, it was hard to say from this distance but Ruby recognised the subtle change in body language and knew that he was not happy, not happy at all.” [page 180]

He’s been seriously injured before in his life, and why was nobody paying attention to these goddamn children, holy hell Spectrum dropped the ball on this one.

“While this drama was unfolding, so another was taking place - the screams of a boy who had apparently fallen into the shallows, but managed somehow to scrabble onto one of the rafts. He had incurred a life-threatening from a fifteen-foot crocodile, but he was lucky - his cries had alerted rescue and he was dragged from the river before he could be taken by the reptile. The boy suffered severe shock and could not be questioned about the incident.” [page 235]

I think that his name suits him well, but jeez, imagine looking at your baby and giving him this name.

“The second, the boy who was almost swallowed by the crocodile, was named as Art Hitchen Zachery.” [page 236]

He is not immune to the upset looks of Sabina Redfort.

“‘I’m afraid I’m expected elsewhere,’ said Hitch, glancing anxiously at his watch. ‘Oh no, really?’ exclaimed ‘Sabina. She looked so forlorn that Hitch found himself saying, ‘You know what, how about I stay for the starter - it really looks too good to miss.’” [page 260]

His birthdate was 1930!

“‘Just how old do you think I am?’ ‘I don’t know,’ said Ruby, ‘fifty-five... fifty-seven.’ ‘Kid, I’m forty-two.’ He shook his head. ‘Boy, never ask a kid to guess your age; they’ll always have you pegged at just shy of decrepit.’” [page 290]

I don’t even know what to caption this, except that he’s able to burst into hysterics. Also, he went with other Spectrum agents to Disneyland, which is adorable.

“‘Are you kidding?’ He began to laugh, really laugh. In fact, he laughed so hard that he didn’t look like he was ever going to stop. ‘What?’ she asked, annoyed that she wasn’t in on the joke. ‘That picture was taken at Disneyland,’ he wheezed. ‘He was made of rubber. Kid, you might to get a new pair of spectacles.’” [page 291]

More dad jokes!

“‘I’d love to, kid, but I’ve got places to be.’ As the doors closed shut, he called, ‘See you later alligator!’ ‘Funny,’ muttered Ruby, ‘real funny.’” [page 291]

While the revelation of Bradley being alive is a huge thing, Hitch still has time for sass.

“Ruby: ‘I’ve only seen two picture of Baker and in neither one did he have this whole wild man of the woods deal going on.’ Hitch: ‘You mean the facial hair?’ Baker: ‘It’s just a beard for crying out loud.’ [page 336]

He can play poker!

“By the time Ruby decided to turn in for bed, Sabina, Hitch, Bradley, Brant and Mrs Digby were settled in for a long night of poker.” [page 348]

The title of butler doesn’t sit great with him.

“‘He’s some butler,’ remarked Brant. ‘Honey, Hitch is a house manager,’ corrected Sabina. ‘He doesn’t like to be called butler, he’s very particular about that.’” [page 350]

He’s this close to dying and he’s still throwing out the snappy comebacks, what a guy.

“The Australian: ‘Of course. But try to refrain from doing anything stupid.’ Hitch: ‘What would add up to stupid?’ The Australian: ‘Any sudden movements; that wouldn’t be smart sweetie.’ Hitch: ‘I’ll try keep my nervous twitch under control.’ The Australian: ‘I’m impressed by your common sense.’ Hitch: ‘I’m impressed by your gun.'” [page 388]

He’s a real personality - the kind you miss badly when he’s not around.

“Thing moved like clockwork in the Redfort home, every household issue was attended to, and though no one was aware of it, their security was monitored and every safety procedure followed. But life seemed dull without Hitch.” [page 429]

He has a permanent scar from the crocodile incident.

“‘Wanna see the bite? It’s ugly, took an awful lot of stitches to put me back together.’” [page 509]

And those are all the facts I’ve found that we didn’t already know/ are relevant about one Art Hitchen Zachary! I omitted the other 700 paragraphs where we get reminded yet again that he’s very handsome, and still he is the most amazing man!

#rr #ruby redfort #art hitchen zachary #hitch #me reading all of this is just *heart eyes*#im loveeee #if ya man isn't like this do you even want a man at all?#anyway #agent blacker #lb #bradley baker #byd spoilers #blink and you die spoilers #blacker #miles froghorn #clancy crew

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theslowliferp · 4 years

Text

How To Bear Hug A Porcupine

A.K.A…. WORKING THROUGH GRIEF.

This week I’ve been grieving.

Hidden grief, trapped grief, the kind that’s been loitering on the peripheries of my mind for decades and is finally allowed to bubble to the surface grief. It’s a pure grief like a saltwater spring, filtered as it travels towards the light through millennia of limestone rock.

It’s the grief I first experienced when paralysed in a Spanish hospital bed, as the true reality of my situation and what I'd lost hit home.

It’s the grief I feel when I allow myself to step outside survival mode and dive into the deep and terrifying ocean that’s my emotions; and although it’s deep, it's a simple grief.

A grief that’s encountered by every human on this planet.

The overwhelming grief we experience at the loss of a loved one*.

*In this case my self.

If I’d been grieving for someone else, it might’ve been easier for me to understand, process and express my pain.

Alongside all the complex emotions which combine to create “grief”, I also have the additional guilt that accompanies the story of…

"Quit being selfish… You’re lucky… Cheer Up and (wo)man up." -- Bob Johnson (my Mind Monkey)

—————

We find it difficult to express our grief in public and in private, we hold onto our thoughts, fears and emotions, as we hold back the physical representation of this tangled mess… our tears.

It’s a hard battle to fight without the added torture of our “mind monkey” stories about the shame in grieving for ourselves.

Though, in truth when we grieve isn’t it nearly always for ourselves?

There are multiple, global belief systems that suggest our loved ones are in a much better place; experiencing some version of a heaven, being reborn into a new life or in an eternal slumber where they no longer feel pain or suffering.

So why do we mourn their passing?

Is it because they are no longer able to live their lives? If this is true, why do we grieve for someone who’s lived a long and full life?

We grieve because of the truly empty space in our own lives and hearts that can never be filled once that person has left us. It’s the pain of knowing our lives will never be the same; no more conversations, no more creation of shared memories and no more friendship, love and companionship. In other words…

We grieve for our loss, not theirs.

—————

I know this can be an uncomfortable concept because it creates the same feelings of guilt, that I experience when also grieving for my self. We feel shame because we're being selfish but what can be selfish about feeling pain at the loss of love in our lives?

Some of us on a deeply buried, subconscious level are mourning the loss of the most profound love of all.

I have memories of what was “before” the life I’m living now.

When I’m in a deep meditative state, I can recall the faint traces of an immense, vast and eternal love, a love of such intensity that my tiny human body and mind cannot contain it. I remember being torn away from this love and I experience a deep loss and longing for something I don’t fully comprehend.

The grief I feel in that moment of recollection, is the deepest grief I’ve ever experienced.

The process of grieving is as complex and unique as the person taking that lonely journey.

I don’t believe there is one solution to working through grief and I definitely know there aren’t “STAGES” we ALL go through.

It’s even more complex when a life is cut short before it's truly begun.

We endure great sorrow on behalf of those who’ll never get to experience the full technicolored wonder of a long and beautiful life. In those moments we aren’t only grieving for ourselves but for a life that was never lived.

Collective loss is the most painful to endure.

—————

I didn’t realise until this year, that I’m grieving for the loss of a young life too; a carefree 20 year old that was starting to find her way in the world, a small bird that was spreading her wings to fly free.

I grieve for the life she's lost, the dreams she made that will never come true and her path in life that came to an unexpectedly abrupt and violent end.

I didn’t realise I was grieving for a very long time. It was buried so deep, I didn’t know of its existence until a counsellor stated…

"Your body might not have died but Rachel did. "

I’d refused to acknowledge this fact.

I believed if I gave into my grief, I wouldn’t be able to heal. I believed not surrendering made me strong and I believed I wasn’t a victim by not appearing selfish or weak. I shut the door and refused to look back. Thankfully 20 years later, experience has taught me…

we can’t move forward until we look into our past, to uncover and release our emotional anchors.

These are the ties that bind us, the cords that keep us tethered and we can’t be released until we do the work to set ourselves free.

Trauma Counselling gave me the strength to find my anchors and I was able to take my own steps to set myself free.

I know counselling isn’t for everyone but through my spoken word performances and collective sharing, I’ve had a number of people approach me to talk about trauma and to ask about my journey. These conversations encouraged me to share my thoughts, experiences and insights that you find written here.

Whether you’re grieving or have a loved one who’s experiencing grief, I hope through these words… you’ll know you’re not alone… there’s a way through this and a light at the end of this dark tunnel.

I’m not a counsellor...…

Instead I’ve walked the miles, know the terrain and have blisters on my feet from wearing the shoes.

Please seek professional help if this resonates with you. There are people waiting & wanting to help you.

It would be great to hear from you about the resources, organisations or networks you’ve accessed, if you’ve been on this journey too. Please leave a comment below so we can share our knowledge and experiences.

We don’t know what support is available to us, until we are open to being vulnerable and sharing our collective experiences.

Here’s my 3 main points for processing grief.

If emotions were represented by the elements, joy would be the air, anger would be fire and grief would be water.

Of all the emotions, grief is the most like the waves of the ocean.

It follows a regular pattern (though it feels like there is none) and when it swells up to meet us, we fear we'll drown before it eases and breaks on the shore. In the early stages we barely get chance to recover before we’re hit by yet another wave.

It's incredibly hard to stand waist deep in the ocean, plant your feet in the sand and face down every wave as it batters your chest, your head and your heart.

Growing up by the North Sea, from an early age I was taught the danger comes when we turn our back on the waves, it’s only then that we can be caught off guard, unable to stand firm and risk being swept off our feet.

I know it seems impossible to ride out the waves but whatever your reason for experiencing grief; whether you’re mourning the loss of love in your life, a life cut short or even a metaphorical death and loss of self, we need to turn our faces towards the ocean, look to the blue horizon and let the waves do what nature does best…

flow.

—————

Grief isn’t an experience to be avoided, it’s a physical way of releasing a mind and soul felt trauma.

Your body is a thing of beauty, so many functions happen at once as trillions of cells all intuitively interact with each other. Trust your own intuition and let your body do whatever it needs. It knows instinctively how to release the emotions you need to process.

Holding onto emotions trap them within your body, where they stagnate and eventually psychological pain transforms into physical pain. Trust me I’ve learnt this the hard way, 20 years of emotional suffering has now manifested into chronic, debilitating pain.

Grief can’t be ignored or reasoned with… it can only be felt.

Learning to sit with grief is hard (hard seems such a tiny adjective compared to the enormity of the task). Allowing myself to feel intense emotions as tears flow down my face, snot shoots out my nose and animal-like wailing takes place… being able to sit back and allow this to happen naturally without judgement or shame?

I’m not going to lie… it doesn't come naturally to me.

Facing complex emotions takes bravery but it’s liberating when we allow our bodies to choose the best method for releasing trapped energy.

Don’t ever feel ashamed of your red, tear-burnt eyes and blotchy face or for needing to curl up in a ball under a duvet to hug it out. The precious moments when I’ve completely surrendered to physical release and let the emotions and actions run their course… I’ve found the energy naturally dissipates.

Like a stormy ocean, once we move past all the terrifying chaos on the surface, we find a deep, calm sense of peace resting underneath.

—————

Leaning into grief takes PATIENCE and the only way we practice is in real time.

The more unnerving, unsettling or uncomfortable our emotions, the more patience, compassion and courage we need to fully embrace them.

I’d describe it as trying to bearhug a porcupine… equal amounts disbelief at our stupidity, fear of the pain we’re about to experience and sheer audacity (or optimism) that things will work out just fine.

The more practice we get, the more we become experts but until that time, we need to face the fact that this is a painful learning curve. Other “experts” will help you shorten this curve, which is why it’s good to seek out help. I’ve always taken onboard any advice or techniques my counsellor and other experts gave me but knowing that grief is unique, I combined their guidance with my own intuition to create my own methods. You’ll find you develop your own process for handling those lethal spikes.

Only when you fully embrace the process and your painful emotions can they be released into the wild. You just need to start and that begins with a genuine intention and desire to set your porcupines free.

One final thought.

From everything I’ve witnessed in my own life and the lives of others, learning to process grief (along with any difficult emotion) is a lifelong practice. It takes true dedication to your own health and mental wellbeing and it’s certainly not easy but often the greatest rewards are hidden behind the biggest challenges.

Every day when I was paralysed in a hospital bed, I felt grief washing over me. Fearful that it would consume me, I looked for the small moments of joy and happiness in my situation. Anything from a kind smile from a stranger passing in the corridor to a conversation with one of the nurses as they changed my bandages.

These silver linings as I called them helped me through a very traumatic situation but I didn’t realise that once I’d healed physically, it was the time to heal emotionally.

Becoming a witness to our own journey is one of the most liberating and powerful gifts we can give to ourselves. Sharing that gift with others is so important, only then can we start to make real changes in this world.

Hopefully one day human beings will be so adept at naturally processing our feelings, we get to experience the true vibrancy of what we presently call good & bad emotions.

I’ve found a lot of beauty in both.

—————

#grief therapy #mindset #personal development #processing trauma #mindfulness

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the-sarcastic-trashmouth · 5 years

Text

Would you stay if I’m sick? (Request)

Prompt: I saw you were asking for writing prompts for the IT fandom and I have read and loved all of your fics on Ao3 and would love to see you write something about Stanley’s OCD perhaps stozier or stanpat! Love your work!! ❤️--Anonymous

Summary: “You might want to visit a doctor. Are you aware that you show signs of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder?” She asked, causing Stan to blink a few times.

“Wait, wait--You think Stan the man has OCD?” Richie raised his hand before asking.

“It’s possible. I’m not saying that’s what you have. I’m saying that it’s something to look into.” She explains.

“Is… Is something wrong with me?” Stan asked worriedly.

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Stanley Uris

Warning: Talks of OCD, ADHD, and getting help for those illnesses. I don’t have OCD and I don’t claim to understand half of what they go through. Please read with caution.

Stanley was someone who had a very precise routine from the time he woke up to the time he went to sleep. He liked order and things been done in a very specific way or his brain would replay the scene over and over in his head until he’d fix it. It was something he physically couldn’t help.

A lot of people looked at him weirdly because of how Stan did every task that he was given. It really wasn’t his fault that he was wired this way… It was like his brain had to obsess over every little detail in his life. If he didn’t… his brain would never turn off and it would make it almost impossible to function.

Some days were harder than others.

Once in a while, Stan’s brain would battle him to the point where eating wasn’t an option because he had missed three questions on his math test. He studied and studied for days to make sure that he would ace that damn thing, but somehow, he had missed three questions. It made knots form in his stomach as his mind chanted how he wasn’t good enough and that his parents are going to be upset with him.

“Stan?” It was Ben’s voice that finally knocked him from his spiraling anxiety riddle brain. “You okay? You haven’t touched your lunch yet.” He points out as Richie glanced away from Bev to look at Stan.

“I… I’m not… I’m not really hungry right now.” Stan explains calmly. He knew that if he ate something… his stomach would regurgitate it back up and that would only make things worse.

“Stanley.” Richie’s voice was soft as he nudged him so Stan would look at him. “What’s going on?” He asked quietly.

“I…” His hands were shaking hard as he winced, trying to stop them. “I just… I’m fine.” His eyes snapped open as he looked to Richie who was watching him with a worried expression.

“Stan--” He’s cut off when Stan looks to him.

“It’s stupid okay! Just fucking leave it alone.” He huffed before looking away with angered tears forming in his eyes.

“Okay, well now, I’m really worried. Whatever it is… I’m sure it’s not stupid.” Richie points out.

“Richie’s right… For once.” Bev snorts as Richie flips her the bird.

“Stan, please tell us?” Eddie asked, glancing at him with a frown.

“That… That math test we took today… I fucking missed three questions.” He then proceeded to slam his head down onto the table with a groan.

“What?” Bev busted out laughing. “That’s it?” She questioned as Richie frowns at her.

“Hey, it’s okay. I know you studied really hard for that test. You did your best.” Richie explains instead.

“And look what it got me. Fucking three missed questions. Even my best isn’t good enough. I’m such a failure. My dad is right… I’m a failure.” Stan whispered before he started to tug at his curls.

“Hey, hey whoa!” Richie yanks his hands out of his hair as he blinked at him. “Alright, let’s just calm down before you make yourself go bald. I love you and your curls thanks.” He comments as Stanley’s breathing started to pick up.

“He looks like he’s going to throw up.” Eddie pointed out warily before moving away from beside Stan. “Is he?” He asked worriedly.

“No, Jesus, Eddie. He’s not gonna fucking puke!” Richie huffed. “And if he does I’m turning him towards you!” He smirks at Eddie’s glare. “Stan, okay. How about we fix this?” He asked.

“How? How are we going to fix this? Huh?” Stan was getting angry because he just wanted his brain to shut up for a few seconds.

“Let’s talk to Mrs. Vivan. Maybe she can let you retake the test?” Richie offers quietly. “I mean you can tell her you weren’t feeling well. She likes you and she’ll definitely let her favorite student retake the test.” He explains.

“You… You think she would?” Stan asked quietly as Richie nods.

“After school today we can go talk to her. I’m sure she’ll be happy to help you.” He assures with a gentle smile.

“Okay… Thanks. I just… My head hurts.” Stan sighs, shoulders slumping as Richie took his hand in his own and squeezed it gently.

“Yeah, that big brain of yours is always racing.” He snorts as Stan’s face flushes before he looked away.

True to his word, Richie took Stan to see Mrs. Vivan after school to talk about the test. Stan was trying not to freak out, but it was so hard because… what if she said no? What if she told him he was a failure, too? What if Richie makes fun of him like the others because he can’t control his emotions when it comes to good grades.

That’s the one thing that he’s always been proud of. His ability to learn information in such a short amount of time impressed a lot of teachers and even his parents. To have this taken away from him… was like taking away the very foundation that made him Stan.

“Oh, hello Stanley, Richie,” She nods to them before smiling. “What brings you here? Something we need to discuss?” She asked, taking off her glasses before standing up from her desk.

“Yeah, about the test we took today. We were wondering if Stan could retake it.” Richie explains as Mrs. Vivan frowns softly before glancing at him.

“Why? You did excellent on that test. My highest score exactly.” She comments before sitting on top of her desk as she gestures for the boys to sit down.

“But I missed three questions. I can’t… You don’t understand.” Stan whispered softly. “I studied for this test really hard.” He felt tears flooding his eyes as he tried not to break down.

Richie’s eyes widened before he glanced at Mrs. Vivan who held the same shocked expression.

“Stanley, those… those three questions you missed were bonus points. They were for the next lesson we are going to learn. It just helps me to know what level everyone is at. Honestly, you had the right system, just came to the wrong conclusion.” She explains softly.

“But--” Stan bit his lip harshly before finally thumping down in his chair.

“Stanley, can I ask if you are taking any sort of medication?” She questioned as Richie and Stan both frowned.

“No, do I need to?” He resorted when she tilts her head.

“You might want to visit a doctor. Are you aware that you show signs of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder?” She asked, causing Stan to blink a few times.

“Wait, wait--You think Stan the man has OCD?” Richie raised his hand before asking.

“It’s possible. I’m not saying that’s what you have. I’m saying that it’s something to look into.” She explains.

“Is… Is something wrong with me?” Stan asked worriedly.

“No, not in the way you are thinking. Sometimes an illness can affect you mentally. This disorder in a sense is your brain battling you for many reasons. It could be something simple like checking to make sure you turned off a light in your room to something as complex as making sure every book is color-coded along with being in alphabetically order.” She gestures with her hands.

“You know… That kinda sounds like you, Stanny. I mean… I’m not saying it’s a bad thing… I just… You do have little quirks that you do a lot. I never really thought about it because that’s just who you are. Just like I have ADHD.” He points out.

“Okay, say I have this… illness. What is talking to my doctor going to do?” Stan turned his attention back to Mrs. Vivan.

“Well, they could recommend you to a therapist who could help you talk through these issues or even some medication that can help ease your mind. You can’t always control how your brain works despite many people thinking that you can. Your brain is wired differently than another student who doesn’t deal with the issues you face.” She comments before sitting up.

“Why… Why am I like this then?” Stan asked quietly, not meeting her gaze.

“Most people who have this illness either get it genetically or through their environment. In some cases, both of those things can play a role. Does that mean that you have it? No, it’s just something to think about. Some people just like order. Others need that order to function properly.” She explains as Richie glances at Stan who swallowed thickly.

“Thanks, Mrs. Vee.” Richie snags Stan’s arm before tugging him towards the door.

“Uh--If you want to retake the test still, Stanley. Just come on Monday and ask!” She calls as Richie waves to her in thanks.

“You okay?” Richie asked as they started for the exit of the school.

“No, what the fuck… Do you… Do you think I’m crazy?” Stan croaked out around a tightening throat.

“What? No! Jesus, dude! I would never think that. Look, like she said. It’s possible you don’t have it. That being said, it… it wouldn’t hurt. Maybe they can help you so you aren’t as stressed anymore. I’m worried one day that stress is going to kill you…” Richie laughs, but it sounds forced.

“Rich… You know I’m not… I’m sorry that I’ve been worrying you so much.” Stan whispered when he felt Richie’s fingers course through his hair.

“Of course I’m gonna worry about you, dipshit. I’m your boyfriend. That’s what boyfriend’s do. They worry and love each other. Look, if you don’t wanna talk about it anymore then we won’t. I’m here for you and you alone. But… Don’t think that if you do have OCD… that I’m not gonna love you or something. I loved you before… and I’ll love you after.” He explains when Stan looked to him with a wobbly smile.

“I love you too… You don’t think I’m broken? I mean… Look at my fucking family.” He laughs when Richie grins gently.

“Can’t be any worse than mine, baby bird. Besides, you think I’m broken because I have ADHD?” He questioned, causing Stan to look at him like he grew two heads.

“Are you an idiot? Of fucking course, not!” Stan huffed.

“Then why are you any different?” Richie asked as Stan swallowed softly before their foreheads touch.

“Thank you… I really don’t know what I’d do without you.” He whispered when Richie grins.

“I think you’d manage, but since I’m here. I make your entire life so much easier!” Richie placed a hand on his chest like he was some knight.

“More like you are the reason I’m stressed all the time.” Stan resorts back with a quirk of his brow.

“Blasphemy! By my own boyfriend of all things!” He cried in a high-pitch voice, making Stan laugh before he pushed Stan away. “Ah! Assault!” He dramatically flopped to the ground when Stan glanced around the roads to make sure no one was around.

“You’re a little gremlin,” Stan comments as Richie looks up to him with a grin. “But you’re my little gremlin.” He snorts and leans down before kissing Richie who immediately kissed him back.

“You’re goddamn right I am! The best fucking gremlin that this world will ever know!” Richie exclaims before standing up and dusting himself off.

“No, no touching me. We’re going to your place to get you some new clothes.” Stan comments, putting out a hand to stop Richie who pouts.

“Maybe we can look at some comics. I heard the others were going to the Quarry today, but I’d rather hang out with you.” He grins as Stan smiles.

“Okay, maybe… maybe you can convince me to talk to my parents about everything.” Stan whispered when Richie snorts.

“Ah, my darling dear Staniel… I can try my best, but your head is as thick as fucking iron. So it’ll take me a few tries.” He chuckles, causing Stan to push him back onto the ground. “Ah! Wait! Stan!” Richie cried as Stan started to walk away. “Wait! You ass! Stan!” He scrambled to stand up when Stan finally glanced back at Richie.

Stan offers him a warm smile that was saved for only Richie. Maybe tomorrow he would face this… maybe it wouldn’t be for another few months if not years… But one thing was certain. As long as he had Richie… Even if he did have OCD or even if he didn’t. He knew that he was going to be okay because Richie loved him for being him.

#Richie Tozier & Stanley are best friends #Richie Tozier x Stanley Uris #richie is a good boyfriend #Stanley may have OCD #Soft Richie #Soft boyfriends #Richie takes care of Stanley #The losers love Stanley #They don't understand what he's going through tho #Richie is a supportive boyfriend #Richie has ADHD #Stanley is overwhelmed #It's all his parents' faults #Talk of getting help #The teacher wants to help Stanley

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cant-blink · 5 years

Text

Weakness, Part 1

Summary: A relatively short story taking place after the previous fic where Ghidorah mated with Rodan, despite Ni’s objections. With Ni at his lowest point, more Ghidorah drama stirs and Rodan risks reaching out to him to help.

Showing weakness. He was showing weakness, and he hated himself even more for it.

All his life, he’s done everything in his power to hide any pain he felt, anything that could conceivably be used against him. Layer upon layer of rage and hatred was used to cover any that popped up, and for the longest time, it was all he needed for it to work. Nobody, not even his brothers, could pick up weakness from him.

Until now.

Laying on the ground as the night carried on around them, they were curled around the rim of a volcano their slave managed to drag himself to in order to heal. Unlike the last volcano they shared, this one was filled with magma and so the dragon had to rest outside while the slave slept in the lava beside them. But Ni couldn’t sleep. He said nothing to Ichi as the eldest stood guard over them, and he could feel San’s head leaning on his neck as he slept. He would never allow the little brat to snuggle up to him like this before, and while his touch was still annoying, Ni lacked any motivation to snap at him.

It all just felt so heavy, the burden inside draining him. It was like everything he’s bottled up was pouring out onto him now that there existed that tiny crack in his defenses. It made him sick, to be honest, that he lacked the strength to carry it all now. Where did it all go?

The memories of what happened earlier that past morning was still fresh in his mind. He didn’t regret what he did to the bird; he did what he had to in order to put an end to his torment. And it worked, as the injuries he’s inflicted within their slave was deemed too severe to continue their ‘fun’.

He let out a snort. ‘Fun’, they called it. Forcing him to mate with that disgusting creature was ‘fun’ to them. Ichi thought it no big deal, disgracing themselves in such a fashion and although his alpha has already apologized for his mistake, Ni wasn’t having any of it.

His ‘alpha’ was weak. Traitorous and weak, to be so easily swayed by their instincts and idiot younger brother.

He didn’t understand why this hurt as much as it did. It was not as though mating was considered some sacred act among their kind. But there had to be some line drawn and that line has been crossed and stomped on. There was a sense of betrayal within him, that his alpha not only tainted their body but disrespected his wishes to such a degree that he couldn’t even let Ni sit it out without giving that stupid invitation. The self-loathing intensified knowing he was unable to resist the offer, his mind clouded with pure concentrated lust and desire for more. Sure, he could justify it by reminding himself that by giving in, he at least was able to put a stop to it all.

Stopping it wasn’t enough though, because it didn’t change the fact that it happened in the first place.

Ichi was watching him now; he can feel his gaze on him, eyes shining under the lava’s glow. Somehow, it made him feel even more disgusted. Made worse when his brother spoke up. “You should be sleeping,” he said. No reply was given, as Ni turned his head away pointedly. But Ichi continued, much to his chagrin. "If you are not going to sleep, then let us talk, Brother Ni."

"I think we've talked enough."

That was his response and his tone made it clear that it was going to be his only response. He had no idea why his brother was so obsessed with trying to talk to him; it wasn’t as if talking about it was going to fix anything. And if he did think that talking would earn his trust back, then he’s gravely mistaken. He heard his brother let out a breath, but thankfully Ichi doesn't press him further. He knew it wasn't going to help.

The eldest never understood why Ni was always so cut off from them. So many things in their past could've been resolved quick and peaceful if he would just open himself up just a little bit. He didn't have to be San-levels of open, but just enough where they could discuss these issues privately. They were brothers, for pete’s sake!

...

No, Ni was so cut off from them that never once has the right head ever acknowledged them as siblings, never called them by ‘Brother’, as is the norm for their species. It was always just ‘San’ or ‘Alpha Ichi’. The eldest wasn’t really bothered by this before, as he rather liked the alternative title, but now it was like a thorn in his side.

Ni always had his moods where his anger and irritability would trigger easier than usual, and conflict during those moods was inevitable. Ichi was used to that. But hearing how Ni spoke to him after that ill-fated mating, the eldest hasn't heard such venom directed at him from his second-in-command since the dark times of their youth.

He saw the pain, for the first time since Ni’s birth. He still sees the pain as Ni laid there silently. He always had a tendency to assume that whenever the right head acted out with particular anger against him and San, it was just Ni being a spiteful little shit. But with what he saw earlier today, he now wonders just how many of those ‘acting out’ periods was fueled by pain rather than petty spite.

How he just wished Ni would let him in to help with that pain, instead of shutting him out like this. Especially since Ichi felt responsible for it all.

The silence remained between them, until it came time to change shifts. Glancing at the right head, Ichi decided to instead move towards San beside him, nudging him with his snout. San blinked as he stirred, barely getting out a yawn before Ni startled them both by speaking up.

“It’s my turn to take up watch.”

Ichi looked over at him, surprised although his blank face didn't show. He spoke calmly. "I am giving you the night off."

"Don't coddle me, Ichi." Ni growled as if insulted, raising his head up from the ground. But his words only reaffirmed the eldest's fears. After what happened, Ni won’t even refer to him as any actual title. This was made worse that, if not fixed, the last time he will hear Ni refer to him as ‘alpha’ is with such venomous hatred. He really has lost all respect for him over this, and now it seemed they really have reverted back to the old days before San was born.

A part of him wanted to reprimand Ni's purposeful show of disrespect, but was that really a good idea? On one hand, he needed to assert his place as alpha, drill it into Ni's skull that his position of authority hasn't changed because of this incident. But would doing so make things worse?

He decided it was best to set the boundaries and nip it in the bud before it became habit for the right head. He spoke up in a soft, but no less firm voice. “Brother Ni, you know to refer to me properly. Either as ‘Alpha Ichi’ or ‘Brother Ichi’. Understand?” Ni may be able to degrade San and get away with it, but Ichi will not be taking it. Unfortunately, Ni turned to glare at him.

“I’ll call you by ‘Alpha’ the moment you earn that right back. As for ‘Brother’,” He huffed through his nose. “Don’t ever get your hopes up for that. I would sooner perish than call either of you ‘Brother’.”

Silence between them, with Ichi looking as if he’s been physically struck.

San wasn’t looking any better as he glanced back and forth between the two. He hated it when his brothers fought, and he usually kept out of it. It wasn’t his place to get between them, and the risk of getting caught in the crossfire if things escalated discouraged him further. But the pain brought by Ni’s words was unexpected and brutal. The youngest was used to Ni never calling him by ‘Brother’. Degrading, yes, as it made it seem like his older sibling had no love and respect for him. But San always just took it as Ni being his usual hard self. He always thought that deep down, through all the biting words and harsh punishments, Ni did love and respect him, he just didn’t want to show it for some incomprehensible reason. Every instance of abuse the higher-ranked head inflicted on him, no matter how unnecessary or severe, was brushed off as Ni expecting better of him and it was taken as a sign for San to step up. And although the standards set out for him seemed impossibly high, the youngest head thought that he would someday prove himself worthy. When that moment comes, Ni would finally acknowledge it to him, say how proud he was of him, and it would be the single greatest day ever!

But it never did happen and now that he hears those words spoken out loud...

“Brother Ni, please...” San started, slinking closer and making sure to hold his head lower than his older brother’s. His distress was clear in his voice, especially when Ni doesn’t even look at him. “Don’t say stuff like that. You don’t really mean it. I... We already said we’re sorry.” Of course, San didn’t understand exactly why he and his oldest brother was apologizing to Ni. He just knew Ni was really upset with them about mating, which didn’t really make sense to him. They were following instinct, which was always the right thing to do in his experience, especially when that instinct felt so good to indulge in. And Ni seemed to have been enjoying himself up until he cut it all off.

If anything, they should apologize to San since he didn’t even get a turn!

But the youngest apologized nonetheless for whatever it was they did wrong and he thought everything got better since Ni was letting him cuddle. His mind was failing to comprehend that the cuddling in itself was a sign that things were still very wrong.

Emboldened by the fact that he was previously able to touch him, he gently pressed his nose under Ni’s chin, trying to appease him. Almost immediately, Ni bit down on him without even giving the usual warning growl first and San yelped as he pulled away, his brother’s teeth tearing the scales on his muzzle as he did. It healed almost immediately thanks to the volcano’s radiation, but it still hurt regardless. Luckily for him, Ni’s attention re-focused on glaring Ichi down and he didn’t push the attack further.

Whimpering, San switched to trying to appease the eldest. Ichi has snapped out of his stunned state and was growling now. At this rate, they were going to fight, he just knows it, and if he can just smother the flames...

“Brother Ichi, he didn’t mean that! Don’t do this,” he started. “It always ends badly when you guys argue. It’s time to sleep anyway, so we can just get some rest and everything will be better in the morning. Please.” He repeated his previous gesture, touching his nose to Ichi’s chin. He didn’t know if it was working as the eldest doesn’t even acknowledge him as he keeps on growling.

When he finally did speak, it was obvious he was forcing his tone to stay calm. “So that is how this is going to be, then?” He shook his head, glare not leaving his features. “No. Whether you like it or not, we have been and always will be brothers. Nothing changes that, not even this. And given the fact that you are stuck with the both of us, it is in your best interest to change your tone.”

There was a responding hiss from Ni, but Ichi ignored it as their tails swayed behind them in agitation. “I do not know what you expect us to do to earn your forgiveness, but at this rate, your forgiveness is rapidly becoming the last thing I desire.”

“Brother Ichi!” San piped desperately, still trying to de-escalate the situation by pressing his muzzle against his brother more firmly. Ichi finally glanced at him, but only a glance. It was all San needed. “Just stop. You don’t mean that either. Everyone’s just tired and angry and everything will be better in the morning.”

He keeps repeating that childish sentiment, but only because he believed it. “So let’s just go to sleep. Please...”

He earned another glance, this one lasting longer than the last. San was looking up at his eldest brother with sad eyes and soft whimpers, horns flattened back against his neck. It was a face he always used when begging, with varying results. But thankfully, it seemed to work this time as the lead head stared at him for a moment before he let out a breath.

“Very well, then,” Ichi conceded, for San’s sake more than anything. “We will talk in the morning and trust me, Brother Ni,” His eyes locked firmly on his second-in-command’s. “We will talk.”

This earned a defiant snarl, but Ichi ignored him as he turns to San, who seemed relieved to have finally been heard. He was worried it was going downhill too fast for him to stop and now he can rest easier knowing that painful conflict wasn’t going to happen tonight.

“Go back to sleep, Brother San.” Ichi told him, his voice softening just a little bit.

The youngest nodded gratefully, nuzzling against Ichi’s neck with a purr. As usual, though, Ichi doesn’t actually return his affectionate gesture but he doesn’t reject it either. Instead, he lowered their left tail to curl around them and nudged San towards it. It was his usual sleeping spot and the left head nuzzled a few seconds longer before he goes to lay himself down. Ichi sent another firm glare towards Ni, who still refuses to back down.

“Goodnight, Brother Ni.” was all he said as he goes to settle down onto their folded wing. Ni continued to glare hatefully at his older brother for a while, wanting to bite down on him and snap his neck, before catching slight movement from the lava pit by them.

The bird was watching him.

#ghidorah #king ghidorah #rodorah #godzilla #king of the monsters #kotm #ichi #ni #san #kevin #more ghidorah drama!#poor san #hopefully rodan will have better luck #ni could very well kill him for trying

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bytheangell · 5 years

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What Do You Do With the Leftover You?

(WARNING: MCD due to being set post Alec’s death) (Read on AO3)

The funeral was difficult. In fact, it was the second most difficult thing that Magnus Bane, in all of the centuries he existed, ever had to do. It was impossible to say goodbye to Alec, not when he still saw him everywhere he looked. It didn’t feel real to stand among a hall of Shadowhunters, speaking hollow words that felt like nothing instead of the symbolic release they were meant to be.

The funeral was difficult, but not as difficult as coming home to an empty home is. It somehow seems more final now. It’s been three days since it happened. They feel like a blur, and for so much of it he forced himself to put on a brave front, to be a comfort to Isabelle and Jace and Maryse, to make decisions he never expected to make so soon. For three days he had nothing but distractions, the ceremony a purpose to work towards if nothing else, constantly surrounded by people to keep up the act for.

But there’s no one left to pretend for now that he’s home and the hugs and hand shaking and condolences are over.

With nothing left to use as an excuse, Magnus stares down at the envelope Isabelle gave him two days ago with his name written across in Alec’s handwriting. He considers not opening it at all, not sure if he’s ready for the contents (whatever they may be)... but he knows that’s selfish. This is Alec’s final wish, as it were, and he’s already put off opening it for too long.

He opens the envelope slowly, taking out a letter and a key.

Dear Magnus,

If you’re reading this, I’m sorry. I obviously don’t know the exact circumstances but I’m certain they couldn’t possibly be good, and I can only imagine how difficult this is for you. I know we talked about it, that we knew it would come some day, but if this reached you then it came much sooner than either of us hoped.

I could go on for pages about how much I love you, how amazing you are, how kind your soul is and how I wish I could’ve been around longer to watch you change the world around you for the better one day at a time. Instead, I’m going to keep this short and sweet, because I never was great at putting my feelings into words. I love you, Magnus Bane, and I always will, long after I rest in the City of Bones.

When I found you, you told me your heart was closed off and I unlocked something in you. Don’t lock yourself away again after me, keep your heart open for the next person lucky enough to deserve your love.

Aku cinta kamu,

Alexander

P.S. I asked you for a gift once, but it wasn’t for me, not truly. The key is to a room in the basement of the Institute where I kept the parrot you gave me. Go alone, and don’t say anything when you’re around him. It’ll make sense once you’re there. I hope he helps, and that I’m not wildly off-base in this final gift I’m leaving for you. I love you.

Magnus re-reads the letter three times, only putting it down when the tears in his eyes make it impossible to make out the words on the paper and he doesn’t dare risk ruining the letter itself with water stains smearing the ink. Instead he picks up the key and considers it. He almost forgot about the African grey Parrot he gave to Alexander, not that he could be blamed given… what happened. But now he’s full of curiosity that manages to pierce through the looming dread and darkness for just a moment. A moment is all he needs to wipe the tears from his eyes and portal himself to the Institute.

“Magnus? What are you doing here?” It’s Underhill who greets him first. Magnus is surprised until he realizes it’s the middle of the night, and everyone else is likely asleep or on patrol. “Not that you aren’t always welcome here, I just thought…” Underhill trails off, eyeing Magnus carefully. Magnus stares back, noting the dark circles under the Shadowhunter’s eyes and their general redness - he’d been crying recently. Crying over Alexander.

‘Well that makes two of us ’ Magnus thinks, though he doesn’t say anything aloud. Instead, he says, “Alexander left me a key to a room in the basement, told me to only go in alone, though. I don’t suppose you could show me which one?” He holds up the old, bronze key.

Underhill nods. “He was always disappearing down there and refused to tell anyone why. Guess you’ll be the one to find out. Here, I’ll show you.”

Underhill leads the way into the elevator and down to the lower level, pointing out the door and then hesitating. “Should I wait?”

Magnus shakes his head. “I can find my way back up, if that’s alright with you.”

Underhill only nods and turns to leave.

Once he’s gone Magnus places the key in the lock and opens the door.

There’s no cage in the room, which is the first thing he expects to see. Instead the parrot has free reign of the room full of food and water and places to perch and even actual trees, granted they’re potted, but still . Magnus opens his mouth to wonder aloud what all of this is about when he remembers the letter. Don’t say anything when you’re around him .

Alright, he thinks. So what now? Magnus approaches the bird who is in the corner of the room on a branch, waiting. And waiting. And just when he’s certain that this is all some sort of joke, or a test, or something , the parrot speaks and Magnus’ heart skips a beat.

“Hey, Magnus.” It’s the parrot. Magnus knows it’s the parrot, but the sound that reaches his ears is Alexander’s voice. Those are Alexander’s words.

“I love you so much.”

Magnus stifles a sob, balling his hand into a fist and biting down on it to stop from crying out.

“You’re my world.” “I hope you’re doing well.” “I know you miss me. I miss you, too.” “

Magnus doesn’t know how long he sits in that room, silent tears streaming down his face. Sometimes the bird speaks one sentence after another, other times he’s silent for minutes at a time, maybe hours. At some point the bird starts snoring - Magnus realizes with a soft smile that Alec must’ve fallen asleep in here at least once for the parrot to mimic is trilling snores perfectly.

The thing the parrot repeats the most often is ‘I love you’. It’s clear that Alec spoke those words the most frequently, making sure if nothing else stuck this is the one declaration he’d leave behind. The realization is too much and Magnus has to leave the room, making it into the hallway and just barely allowing the door to shut behind him before he presses his back against it and sinks down, his head falling to rest in his hands as he cries properly for the first time since he got the news.

He’s certain Underhill is watching him on the security camera - Alec’s husband or not, he’s still a Warlock alone in the Institute, one who is emotionally compromised at that - but no one comes to check on him or escort him out in the time he spends sobbing in the hallway. He’s grateful for that much.

But not as grateful as he is for the gift Alec left behind for him. Collecting himself enough to stand again, he goes back inside the room to gather the parrot’s things ( Alec’s things ) and shifts the warding around him enough to portal both him and the bird back home. He doesn’t want to risk it picking up any voice that isn’t Alexander’s.

He’ll clear out the small storage room for the parrot later, but for now he places him in the bedroom, immediately soundproofing the room inside and out. He isn’t expecting visitors, not since he stopped answering the door for them two days ago, so silence shouldn’t be an issue… but better safe than sorry.

It’s only then that it hits him: it was in this very spot that Alec first brought up the idea of the bird. He remembers the conversation like it was yesterday.

“Hey, Magnus,” Alec said, his tone of voice lilting at the end with the implication of having much more to say if Magnus had the time.

Magnus always had time for Alec.

“Yes, Alexander?”

“A while back Simon told me about this snake in India you said you made for Camille once…” Alec started, trailing off a bit as he considered the best way to word whatever was on his mind. Magnus, fearing this would be some sort of commentary on the very few physical gifts he’d given Alec during their time together, immediately hopped on the defensive.

“When I said it was the best gift I ever gave, I hope you know it means nothing to me now that we’re-”

“No, no. That isn’t… that’s not what this is about,” Alec interrupted. “Simon said it was immortal, the way you made it so long ago. I was wondering if there was something I wanted… if I could ask for something similar?”

“Darling, if you want a snake I’ll go right back there and take that one back from her, it’s hardly as if she deserves it.”

Alec frowned, shaking his head. “No, not a snake. A parrot… an African grey parrot.” “You want an immortal parrot?” Magnus questioned, not sure where this was coming from all of a sudden.

Alec flushed, the red blush spreading quickly across his cheeks. “Yes. I can’t tell you why, I just-- you know what, never mind. It was a stupid idea. Forget I asked.”

Alec turned to leave but Magnus reached out, catching him by the elbow. “No, wait. You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to. If it’s something you really want, of course I can do it for you.”

Magnus couldn’t pretend to understand the relief that crossed Alec’s face at that. “Really?”

“Yes, even if it means living with a parrot, of all animals, though I’m not sure how the Chairman is going to feel about that,” Magnus admitted.

Alec only shook his head. “No, it’ll stay at the Institute. Listen, I know this all sounds a little crazy right now, but I promise it’ll all make sense one day.”

Magnus asked about the parrot a number of times after gifting him to Alexander, but each time Alec only repeated that Magnus would find out when it was time. He spent three years wondering curiously when that time would be and now that it’s here he wishes more than anything that it had never come.

The parrot makes sense now, yes, and for Magnus perhaps it’s the only thing in this world without Alexander Gideon Lightwood-Bane that does.

...but for the first time in three days, Magnus falls asleep almost immediately, with the soft, comforting words (and occasional snores) of his husband filling the room once more. He continues to do so for days, which turn into weeks, which turn into months and years and decades, the reminder of Alec’s kind heart keeping him grounded in his darkest hours. Magnus tells himself he’ll move the parrot somewhere more remote when he’s ready but instead he ensures no one other than himself enters the bedroom he once shared with Alexander, not sure if he'll ever reach a point the comfort won’t be needed. And in the moments he considers locking himself away to never leave again, Alec’s voice is there to wish him love, happiness, and peace.

And Magnus Bane never was one to deny Alexander something he wanted.

#malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #andrew underhill #shadowhunters #mcd #SORRY FOR THE ANGST but I had this idea for months now and I couldn't ignore it any longer #but I'm really pleased with how it came out and i hope if it's something you're comfortable reading that you like it too #definitely curious about the feedback i'll get on this one so please let me know what you think!#elle writes a few deadbeat lines #long post

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fallinginlovewithwhereyouare · 6 years

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EVERGREEN LOVE SMUT

Summary; this is part of a series called evergreen love, check out @hiyadarlingirl for the full story. This can be read seperate though if you like. You study biology with Roger in London (1969) and are friends but fall in love. You just confessed your feelings while on a gig in cornwal. See what happens! Warning; smutt, fluff! Wordcount; 6,5 k

written by: @hiyadarlingirl

‘Closer.’ He breathed. And then in one swift motion he bended forward and kissed you.

He did it so tenderly your heart fluttered, his lips soft against yours. You leaned into his warmth, cold slowly melting away like icicles at the touch of spring.

You softened under his touch, every thought disappearing into thin air and leaving you with just your physical senses. His hands traveled upwards, one hand tucking your hair behind your ear and cupping your cheek, other resting in your neck.

The way he touched you didn’t say I want more. It said I want this.

It felt as though the dimension of time evaporated into nothingness and all you could think of was how soft his lips were and how natural it felt to kiss him. Pure instinct. He tasted sweet with a faint hint of cigarettes and it made you hungry for more.

When he pulled back time started moving again but you felt like you couldn’t catch up. Had it actually happened?

He looked at you and smiled. Warm eyes, flushed cheeks. You sighed and smiled too.

‘Hi.’ You said. It was the most natural thing you could think of since it felt as though you met him again for the first time, completely anew.

‘Hi.’ He replied, wide-eyed. ‘God, you are beautiful. Ever told you that?’

You shook your head softly, his hands still holding your face. ‘No.’

‘Well I always thought you were.’ He said and lightly touched your cheek. You blinked lazily. Everything felt slow and satisfying, as though you were underwater.

‘Wait here.’ He said then.

You nodded, body feeling completely warm on the inside like liquid sunshine. ‘Okay.’ You replied.

He disappeared into his room and showed up a couple of seconds later with a pile of blankets and pushed them into your arms.

‘Stay warm love.’ He said. You had already warmed up, face burning by the thought of what just happened but you didn’t say that.

‘Thanks Rog.’ You replied and noticed it felt completely different to say his name now.

He stepped a little backwards and looked at you for a bit. Not knowing what to say so you just let him observe you. What was he thinking?

‘Goodnight.’ He said then and you could see he wanted to turn around but lingered, opening his mouth as if to say something. He shoved a hand through his long hair and frowned a little.

‘I wanted to do that for a very long time you know.’ He said.

You looked at that open and genuine face you loved so much. It had gotten a very serious expression washed over it. ‘I’m glad you did.’ You replied, feeling a little shy out of a sudden.

He looked at you and nodded. ‘Good. Good.’

You gave him a smile. ‘I... Me too actually.’

‘Yes?’ His face lit up and you couldn’t understand how he could be surprised.

‘Yes.’ You said and nodded. Your heart ached by seeing how happy it made him to hear that. You reached out and took his hand, putting it against you cheek. He let it. Then you closed your eyes and sighed, feeling sleepy but content and tried to remember every little detail of this very moment. ‘Sleep well Rog.’ You said, opening your eyes again. ‘See you tomorrow.’

‘Yes.’ He replied. ‘You too sweetheart.’ And as sudden as he had appeared, he vanished again, door closing behind him and leaving you screaming on the inside.

Needless to say that even though your body felt tired you didn’t close an eye that night,

You spent the entire night -of what was left of it- sitting in the windowsill with a blanket wrapped around you, one leg dangling outside the window looking out over the garden. You stayed there, watching the cherry-trees that were fully blossoming now until the sky changed from a dark navy to a softer peach and birds started chirping. You breathed in deeply and you wondered how your life would change.

22nd of March

That morning everybody packed their stuff and gathered in the van. Roger switched with Tim to the back so he could sit next to you and gave you a light peck on your cheek. Mary noticed it and exchanged looks with Freddie who then realized too what had happened.

‘You didn’t.’ Mary said, voice full of disbelief.

You smiled and shrugged slightly.

‘Fred they did it. They kissed.’ She said turning towards him.

‘No!’ Freddie mimicked her expression but you could see he wasn’t in the least bit surprised.

‘Yes.’

‘No! impossible.’ He shook his head in fake disbelief.

‘It is true!’

‘It is?’

‘Oh yes Fred it is.’ She nodded. ‘The shit has finally hit the van.’

‘It was about time good heavens.’ Freddie said laughing and ruffled Rogers hair.

‘What did.’ Brian turned around in his seat, picking up on the conversation.

‘Y/N and Rog finally fornicated their love.’

‘We didn’t fornicate our love, good god Fred.’ You objected, laughing.

Freddie gave you a smile. ‘Yet.’

You rolled your eyes and rubbed your nose, slightly uncomfortable.

Roger unexpectedly wrapped his arms around you and squeezed you so tight you felt you were suffocating.

‘Au au au!’ You yelped.

‘I’m never gonna let you go.’ He breathed in your ear, hair tickling your cheek. You laughed.

‘Okay okay!’

‘I think we need some ground rules.’ Brian said, watching you. ‘No make out sessions with me in the same space.’

Roger let you go from his grip and raised his eyebrows. ‘Stupid rule. Objection.’

‘Okay well just don’t go full frenzy on me alright.’

Roger smirked and then looked at you, squeezing your thigh before answering. ‘Noted Bri.’ He answered without eyes leaving yours.

You looked into those pools of blue and wondered what glitch in the universe had made you so damn lucky to meet this crazy boy.

25th of March

The second time he kissed you was in his car. You had been wondering when you would get to kiss him again since the very moment his lips had left yours. You knew that once it would happen there was no turning back. Nothing could ever compare to what you felt when being with him.

He was picking you up to attend a lecture you both shared and smiled when you sat down in the car seat next to him.

‘Hello love. Slept well?’

You nodded. To your own surprise you actually had. Thinking about him was exhausting and you had fallen asleep that night the moment your head had met your pillow. ‘You?’ You asked and planted your feet on the dashboard.

‘Very.’ He replied.

Planting your feet on the dashboard had become a thing and you loved the way he got way more pissed than necessary when you would do so.

But this time he didn’t say anything.

‘What are you eating.’ You asked when you noticed he was chewing something. He swallowed and then bended out of the window to spit something out. ‘Nothing.’ He replied.

‘Liar.’

‘It’s nothing, really.’

‘Don’t be an arse, give me some.’ You stretched your hand out towards him. ‘Whatever it is give me too.’

‘No.’

‘Yes.’

‘Ugh alright close your eyes.’ He commanded. You did as he told you and squeezed them shut.

‘Now open your mouth.’ He ordered.

You did and expected him to feed you.

But instead he pressed his lips to yours. Open mouthed. You made a soft sound in surprise, needing some time to adjust but then let his tongue in. He tasted familiar.

‘Mm cherries.’ You mumbled, lips not leaving his.

‘What.’ He asked laughing and pulled back.

‘You’re eating cherries. Why do you have cherries in your car.’

‘Ha you’re right, yes. That was pretty impressive.’ He looked at you. ‘Err, stole them from my roommate.’

‘Gimme, gimme, gimme.’

He lovingly petted the leather seat. ‘No, you’ll ruin the car.’

‘I’ll be super careful, promise.’ You replied. ‘Plus, look at this color.’ You pointed at your white dress. ‘Don’t want to mess this up eh?’

He looked at you suspicious but then conceded. ‘Alright.’ He bended to the side and handed you over a paper bag. ‘Red spots and I’ll kill ya.’

‘Pshh.’

-----------------------

During you lecture you couldn’t get a word in. Instead of making notes you drew flowers on the white paper.

Roger bended over to you. ‘What are you thinking about.’ He whispered against your hair.

‘Biology.’ You lied. All you were thinking about was how it would feel to have his lips touch places other than your lips. Like your jaw. Or neck.

Or inner thigh.

Your stomach made somersaults just thinking about it.

‘Liar.’ He smirked.

‘No really.’ You persisted.

‘Then what was it about.’

‘DNA.’ You guessed. It was a subject you’d been studying for a while now but you didn’t have the slightest idea what the professor just talked about.

‘Wrong.’ He smiled. ‘It’s about the plasmid partition system and the metabolic burden of low-copy plasmids.’

‘Okay, well explain me later?’ It annoyed you he was able to pay attention so well while your mind was just a complete mess.

‘My pleasure love.’ He replied before bending back, a smug expression on his face you wanted to wipe off.

17th of April

You were studying in the library for a test. You deliberately had chosen a small spot between two book shafts so you could make out undisturbed if you felt like it. You were starting to feel rather sleepy though from the dry subject matter and were sitting with one leg pulled up hugging your knee when Roger announced it was time for the fifth break that day. He put a hand on your knee, pulling it down so he could lean in. You could hear him taking a breath before he locked his lips with yours. It was a feeling you would never get used to or get enough of. You sighed into the kiss, immediately feeling awake. There was a way Roger grounded you every time he kissed you, pushing every thought into oblivion and pulling you completely into the now. He pushed your chair a little to the back so it was against the book shaft and pressed his body against yours, hands resting on your waist. You opened your mouth, deepening the kiss and could feel his hands slipping under the fabric of your T-shirt and your heart skipped a beat.

His hands traveled up slowly until they reached the lining of your bra but then you suddenly pulled back from instinct. It surprised you just as much as him and his face got an worried expression. You frowned and slightly shook your head trying to understand what had happened. This was what you wanted. Wasn’t it?

‘I’m sorry I don’t kn…’

‘It’s okay.’ He replied quickly, interrupting you.

You placed a hand on his chest. ‘I do want this, you know. You.’

‘It’s alright love, no rush.’ He smiled.

You nodded and tucked a string of hair behind your ear, still feeling confused.

‘Let’s just call it a day?’ He proposed. ‘My mind is suffocating anyway.’

You nodded. ‘Yeah, okay.’

You started gathering your books feeling but felt a little weird.

-------------------------

Once he had dropped you off at home you climbed onto the kitchen counter and made tea, wondering why you had pulled back the instance he touched you. What were you scared about? Was it your lack of experience compared to him? Were you afraid of what he would think of you? Or were you simply not ready? Maybe it was all of those. You didn’t want to cross your own boundaries if you weren’t ready but simultaneously you didn’t understand as you did want to make love to him.

It was almost four weeks since he had first kissed you. Although you really wanted it, the thought of having sex with him freaked you out. Maybe your roommate Ally could help you with it, you thought and slid of the counter.

You went to her room and knocked on her door.

‘All can I come in?’

‘Sure thing babes!’ Ally replied so you opened the door. She was listening to Betty Everet, lying on her stomach on her bed. She turned the volume down. ‘What’s up honey?’

You lay down next to her on the covers. ‘What was it like when you lost your virginity?’ You asked bluntly, immediately catching her attention and she put down her magazine.

‘What?’ She laughed. ‘Are you planning on popping your cherry hun?’

‘Yes.’ You sighed. ‘Ugh I don’t know.’

‘What do you want to know.’ She asked and turned her body to face you.

‘Were you scared.’

‘Ehm…’ She thought back. ‘Before-hand well I think but that went away once I went into it.’

‘Did it hurt.’

‘Err. A little yes, but it depends. It might not hurt at all.’

‘Hmm.’

‘Do you think you are ready?’ She asked.

‘Well I sure thought so.’

‘But..’

‘I pulled back when he touched my breast.’ You admitted, feeling a little awkward.

Ally laughed a little. ‘I don’t think you are ready sweetie.’

‘But I feel like it is about time.’

‘Why.’

‘Because it’s Roger.’

‘What about it.’

‘He has a ton of experience and girls jump in bed with him the second their eyes meet. It has been almost a month and I haven’t done anything yet.’

‘I’m sure he’ll wait. He bloody has to otherwise he’s an asshole.’

‘But I’m afraid I’ll lose him if it takes too long.’

‘I don’t think Roger minds waiting kiddo. Judging from what you’ve told me about him he has been in love with you for quite some time.’ She smiled. ‘Plus I’m sure he has other ways to get off if you know what you mean.’

You raised your eyebrows. ‘Eh.’ You sure as hell knew what she meant. ‘I suppose so yeah.’ You felt kind of funny thinking about that but simultaneously it turned you on.

‘Just wait until you feel confident it’s time. I’m sure it’ll be fine.’

You nodded and got up. ‘Thanks All.’

‘Anytime babe.’

25th of April, Friday evening, Freddie’s apartment.

You were at a party of Freddies who was celebrating nothing in particular but felt like having a party. You were leaning with your back against Rogers torso who had his arms wrapped around you. His hands were on the bare skin of your stomach, hiding under the delicate fabric of your top. You had put them there yourself as this felt completely okay. Your head rested in the crook of his neck and you felt utterly comfortable and protected. His hand were warm and steadying and you spent your time people watching. You had a glass of Champaign in your hands, having already had three and felt a little giggly.

‘That’s your last missy.’ Roger had said when you had taken another one from a plate Freddie had gotten everybody another round. Roger wasn’t drinking as he was driving you home and you were glad he was being the responsible one.

‘Mhokay.’ You laughed, sipping from the sparkly substance.

He shook his head and pressed his lips to you hair. ‘You smell like flowers.’ He commented.

You nodded. ‘Do you like it?’

‘I do yes. Very much so.’

You felt the warmth of his body vibrating through the layers of clothing between you and suddenly felt very needy of his touch. It had been a week since that time in the library and you had put some thought into it and had decided you were in fact ready, alcohol helping with blurring your barriers.

‘Are you staying the night?’ You whispered in his ear.

‘If you want me to.’

‘I do.’

‘Alright.’

You swallowed and pressed your lips to his ear. ‘Make love to me then?’

He breathed in sharply and pulled back immediately, looking at you confused as though he was figuring out if he had heard you correctly. ‘What?’

‘Make love to me Rog.’ You pleaded.

‘No.’

You frowned. ‘What.’

He shook his head. ‘You are not ready love.’

‘Uh, well you can’t decide that for me Rog.’

‘Yes I can and I say you aren’t ready.’

‘But I am.’

‘Y/N you completely cringed when I touched you in the library.’

‘That was ages ago.’

‘That was six days ago.’

‘Six days, see? A lot of time.’ You kind of wanted to just get it over and done with. You were almost getting your period and then you would have to wait another week.

‘Well I’m not participating.’

‘Asshole.’

‘I don’t care.’

You were starting to feel moody. Before getting your period every emotion always got twice as intense.

‘If you don’t want me just say so.’

‘Hey, just stop okay.’ He sighed. ‘Let me get you home.’

You wiggled out of his arms. ‘Fine.’

‘Let’s say goodbye to Fred and Bri.’

On the way back you didn’t feel like talking. When he pulled up in the driveway you finally turned to face him.

‘I’m not as much of a baby as you think I am Rog.’

‘And I’m not as sex obsessed as you think I am.’ He replied. ‘I can wait you know. I can be patient.’

You bit your lip. ‘I know. I know.’

‘I’ll be here whenever you’re ready.’ He kissed you gently. ‘Nighty night babygirl.’

You rolled your eyes. ‘Not a baby remember.’

‘To me you are. You’re my baby.’

You sighed but then smiled and bended forward to peck his cheek.

Nighty-night you mumbled against his skin and then pulled back to get out of the car. He squeezed your ass at your way out making you yelp.

‘Manners Taylor!’

‘Oh to hell with that.’

You laughed, glad everything was okay again. ‘Bye rog.’ You said and then turned around getting into you apartment.

1st of May (one week later)

You were sitting in a little coffeeshop at the campus that had kind of become your regular spot whenever you were at university together. You had claimed the place next to the window in the corner with the wooden benches and were sitting with your back against the wall talking to Roger who was angry because he had failed a paper he thought was actually rather brilliant.

‘That pretentious arse of a Goodall failed me on purpose.’ He groaned. ‘He knows far well I know the subject way better than the average student but he despises me.’

‘You should go to the rector and hand in a complaint.’ You uttered. Roger had given his paper to you to give it a read and it was indeed very well written and well researched. It was true professor Goodall didn’t like Roger very much.

Roger sighed, dropping his forehead to the table. ‘Let’s talk about something different yeah?’

You fletched your fingers around the warmth of your teacup and took a sip. ‘Sure thing Rog, what you wanna talk about.’

He sat up straight. ‘I still haven’t gotten you on a proper date, now have I?’ He changed the subject.

‘Well this is kinda one.’

‘Not really though, we do this all the time.’

‘Hm yeah, you’re right.’ You agreed, liking the idea of going somewhere with him.

Roger got excited. ‘Okay, Friday, you and me. Where you wanna go.’

You gave it some thought. ‘I don’t know, drive me somewhere, have food after?

‘Okay sounds good, any preferences?’

‘Ehm.’ You scanned your mind for restaurants. ‘Ally suggested a place a little time ago.’ You said when you remembered her recommending a cute pub just outside of London. ‘It’s where they went after her sister got married, it’s a bit of a drive though.’

‘That’s okay, I’ll pick you up after uni?’

‘Yes I have lecture until four.’

‘Sounds good I suppose. Yeah.’ He nodded and gave you a warm smile.

4th of May

As promised Roger picked you up after your last lecture. He was on time which was very much unlike him but simultaneously it was very much like him to show up on time just to prove you a point.

You were wearing all red, red pants and a red top that showed off your stomach and tied under your boobs. You had packed your daffodil printed bag with some toiletries just in case you would end up at his and got into the car seat next to him. It was raining softly but it was quite warm outside making you feel a little clammy, a feeling that became worse once you saw the way he looked at you.

‘Love that color on you.’ He smiled. ‘You wear a lot of red.’

‘Thankyou.’ You replied. ‘Yeah I love red.’ You put your bag between your legs.

On the way to the pub you chattered away about politics and life and books and were listening to soft rock songs on the radio. It was so different to sit next to him on your own instead of having the whole gang with you. You liked having him all for yourself. His attention was focused on you and only you and you loved talking to him so damn much. You could just talk about anything and everything and everything felt exciting. Life was so much fun with him next to you.

You were singing to a Billie Holiday song and looking at the rain that had now become very heavy when Roger suddenly let out a loud noise.

‘Fuck.’ He muttered under his breath and you just wanted to ask him what was wrong but then you quickly realized when the engine turned off and the car slowed down. Roger steered the wheel to the left side of the road until it came to a stop. Thankfully there were very few cars on the small road.

‘What happened.’ You asked confused.

‘Err, you don’t want to know.’

‘What.’

‘I forgot to put new fuel in.’ He clarified, rubbing his neck.

‘Roger!’ You cried out. ‘How can you forget something like that.’

‘You ask me.’

You rolled your eyes. ‘So what now.’

Roger bended forward and peered out of the window that was blurry from the thick rain. ‘I know where we are, a buddy of mine has garage in the town a little south from here. I could give him a call.’

‘You know his number?’

‘I think I do yeah, he’s helped me out quite a lot.’

‘But we don’t have a phone.’

‘Well it’s not deserted here, there must be a phone cell around here somewhere.’

You looked outside at the pouring rain and cringed by the idea of having to enter that torrent of water.

‘I’ll go. Wait here until I get back.’ Roger said and before you could say something he got out of the car. You saw him running through the rain, getting soaked in a split second.

You pulled up your knees and sat cross-legged, resting your head back against the headrest and waited.

It took almost half an hour before he got back, completely drenched, making pools of water on the car seat. He shook his head causing water to spat around through the air and making you scream indignantly.

‘The fuck Roger can you not?’ You growled.

‘This annoys you.’ He stated the obvious.

‘Uh no, it’s delightful Rog.’ You replied sarcastically.

‘Well in that case…’ He leaned towards you and pulled your body in his wet embrace, cold wet cheek pressed against your warm skin.

‘For fucks sakes Meddows!’ You pushed his body away from you. But then you looked at him sideways and you saw his chest rising and falling from running through the rain, wet skin, fabric of his shirt sticking to his lean body and breathed in sharply trying to contain yourself.

‘What happened by the way.’ You tried to distract yourself form your needy thoughts.

‘Oh yes I called my buddy and he’s dropping off some fuel in a bit, he’s not far just like I thought.’

You sat next to eachother, not saying anything, waiting for his friend to arrive and the tension was almost palpable. After a bit you heard a knock on the window and Roger got outside again, helping his friend with the fuel.

Once it was fixed it was way past seven in the evening and you weren’t even half way there.

‘We could also just get pizza and go to your place.’ You suggested.

Roger looked at you from the side. ‘Are you sure love? This is one horrible date then.’

‘I don’t mind, I’m incredibly hungry and the weather is shit anyways.’

Roger looked in front of him. ‘Alright then.’

-------

Once you were back into London he drove to a small brick oven pizzeria and pulled up in front.

‘It’s your part to get wet.’ Roger stated.

‘What.’ You huffed. ‘You fucking asshole you’re the man.’

‘Pha! What happened to your feminist rants out of a sudden.’

‘They are out of the window.’

He pulled up his eyebrows in disbelief.

‘Ughhh fine I’ll go.’ You conceded.

You opened the car, getting soaked the instant you stepped outside. Thankfully it wasn’t cold at all. You ran into the pizzeria, leaving a trace of wet puddles on the floor. You ordered two pizza’s, one with extra mushrooms for Roger and one with extra artichoke for you and got them wrapped up in two paper boxes, warmth radiating through the material.

‘If I get sick you bloody take care of me 24/7.’ You demanded once you were back in the car. ‘And feed me grapes and sing me to sleep.’ You added.

The fabric of your red outfit was drenched, hugging your body and not hiding any of your curves.

‘That’s very specific.’ Roger laughed. ‘But of course I will love, who do you take me for.’ He started the engine. ‘That is if I don’t get sick as well of course.’ He added.

You put your hands on the warm boxes. ‘I’m absolutely famished.’ You uttered. ‘Aren’t you?’

Roger didn’t reply immediately so you turned your face to look at him.

He was staring at your breasts.

‘Eyes up here Taylor.’ You laughed nervously.

‘Sorry yes, what?’

You bit the inside of your cheek. ‘Are you hungry too?’ You asked again.

He was looking at your body so shamelessly, eyeing it up and down you got all hot and bothered. ‘Yes.’ He said finally tearing his eyes away from your revealing outfit, meeting your eyes.

From the way he looked at you you wondered if had meant the food.

Once you entered his apartment you sat down on the floor and opened one of the boxes, diving into the pizza that was still warm. It was so damn good you closed your eyes. ‘Ugh Rog this is heaven.’

Roger looked at you and shook his head. ‘You are something different Y/N.’ He said laughing, closing the door behind him and set down next at you.

While you were eating you could feel his eyes on you. Once you were almost through the entire thing you looked up and smiled. The expression in his eyes made your heart race and your stomach drop. You pushed away the box and shrugged. All barriers were gone. There was no need pretending anymore. You put your hands on the wooden floor and leaned back a little.

‘Kiss me Rog.’ You whispered.

His eyes were bright and awake. ‘Alright.’ He nodded and got up, bending over you in one swift motion and pushing you back gently on the timber floor. You lost your trail of thought in an instant.

You meeting his lips.

His hands on the sides of your shoulders keeping himself up. Your shallow breathing.

His eyes fluttering shut, thick eyelashes resting against his soft skin. Everything was a perfect mess and moving together felt as natural as can be.

He slid his hands under your back pulling you up slightly, causing it to arch and pressed you against his chest.

‘Tell me when you want me to stop love.’ He mumbled against your hair.

But his voice was hoarse and needy and it turned you on so much you had to breath in deeply.

‘Don’t.’ You replied. ‘Don’t you dare stop Rog.’

At those words he lifted you up from the ground and carried you to his bedroom. You had been there just once before and only faintly recognized it. There was a two person matrass on the floor, cornflower blue sheets, books and magazines piled up next to it.

He put you down on the covers, pressing you down gently. It was really hot in his room.

‘Can you. Open. The window?’ You asked between kisses.

He looked at you confused. ‘Okay?’

‘I love the smells and sounds when it rains.’ You clarified. He reached up to open the skylight, causing his shirt to rise up showing his bare skin. You leaned in to press your lips to his side and then bit softly.

‘Hey!’ He squeeled, taking your chin and pushed you back down again. He was kissing you open mouthed and you could feel his tongue in your mouth. All of it felt. So. Damn. Good. His hands found the cord that was tied under your breasts and untangled the knot, hair tickling your skin and making you giggle. He picked up on it.

‘Sure you wanna do this love? You seem a little nervous.’

‘I do. I do.’ You said, giving him a reassuring smile.

He nodded and pulled it over your head. Then his hands glided down to your pants to pull them off too, leaving you in your lacy pink underwear. You started to feel a slight hint of panic rising in your chest.

‘I’m just…’ You started rambling. ‘I’m just afraid it will hurt.’ You admitted.

He nodded as though he understood. ‘If we take our time it’ll fine I think. You just have to relax okay? I’ll guide you through it.’ He gave you a soft smile. ‘I can be slow.’ He kissed your neck. ‘I can be gentle.’ He kissed your collarbone. ‘Trust me?’

You nodded breathlessly and looked at him. His hair a complete mess, face rosy and warm. God he was gorgeous. He got rid of his clothes quickly, leaving him in his light blue boxers and you whimpered at seeing his bulge through the thin fabric.

‘Alright love.’ He said and took your hands, putting them above you head. ‘Close your eyes.’ He ordered, gently kissing your lips. ‘Just….focus on my touch.’ He breathed into you ear. His hands traveled to your back, unhooking your bra and pulling it over your head. Then his lips met yours again, hands wandering down to your panties and pulling them down in one fluent motion. You did as he told you and focused on his touch.

His lips explored your body, starting at your jaw, then traveling down you neck. His lips touched you so softly it felt like being caressed by a summers breeze, giving you goosebumps and causing you to whine softly.

‘I have barely even touched you.’ He whispered a little in awe.

‘Stop talking.’ You ordered out of breath.

He did as you told him and his lips found your collarbone, traveling down to your breasts. His teeth grazed you already sensitive nipples slightly, tongue leaving a wet trace as he traveled down to your ribs, kisses getting wetter and messier as he got lower and lower. Once he reached your bellybutton you were already one weak mess. It felt like you were two pieces of butter in a pan, melting together in fluidity.

Everything was tantalizingly slow it made you impossibly impatient for him to touch the spot you wanted to be touched the most.

His fingers found your folds while he kissed and licked the soft skin below you bellybutton and your lower stomach clenched.

‘Wet wet wet.’ He mumbled and you could feel him smiling against your skin.

‘Fuck off taylor.’ You whined. ‘Don’t be such a tease.’

‘Patience girl.’ He breathed as his fingers found your clit and causing it to shoot pleasure right through you.

‘Tell me what feels good.’ He pleaded as he started rubbing circles around it, first gently but then increasing pressure. He was remarkably attentive and listened carefully to your sounds, adjusting to it and getting on with it once soft moans escaped your throat.

Your breathing got heavy at the friction of his skilled fingers but then he suddenly stopped, pulling back causing you to groan indignantly.

Just as you wanted to ask what he was doing his lips found your clit and he started to work around it with his tongue and your breath hitched.

Your hands found his hair that had dried and was now soft and curly and you pulled slightly. He parted your legs further apart so he could have better excess without losing contact.

You felt like your heart was about to burst.

Those lips. Rogers lips. The lips you had been staring at for ages, the lips you watched as he talked and called you by your name, called you love, got angry at silly things, the lips he bit on when fully in concentration. You couldn’t believe those were on your most sensitive and intimate spot, working magic. Your back arched and there was no single thought left in your mind, all that you had were your senses. The universe consisted purely of you and Roger and it was a fucking beautiful thing. You felt pure ecstasy flowing through your body as the pressure built, his lips not leaving your warmth, hands stroking the soft skin of the insides of your thighs. You couldn’t help but make soft sounds at the feeling as you reached your edge, muttering his name as you came.

Roger.

How you fucking loved that boy.

‘I want you inside me. Now.’ You pleaded, voice needy once you caught your breath.

‘Good lord, how impatient can you be?’ He chuckled softly, hovering over you, playfully peppering kisses all over your face and neck.

‘Just do it Taylor.’ You whined.

‘Alright alright love.’ He conceded and got rid of his boxers, letting his dick free in the open air. You blinked a couple of times wondering if it would fit.

He bended over your body to his nightstand and tossed a condom next to you. He quickly put it on, skilled hands rolling it down his length.

His lips found yours again and he bit your lip slightly. ‘Okay, here we go. Please be vocal if it hurts love.’ He asked.

You nodded and he took his hand to find to guide himself to your entrance and started pushing into you slowly. Fucking hell it hurt. Maybe some women didn’t feel a thing but for you it felt so incredibly uncomfortable. It burned and it felt like something was stretching open. Tears sprung into your eyes and you tried blinking them away before he would see them but you could see his face turn worried.

‘Hurts? He asked.

‘Yes.’ You nodded.

‘Want me to stop?’

‘No, just be slow.’

‘Okay.’ He said, lowering a little, reading your expression carefully.

‘You alright?’ He asked. You nodded yes at which he sunk into you a bit deeper. You could handle the pain. It was Roger, it was fine. He was fully inside of you now and it still felt like something was being ripped apart. He gently pulled out and in again, lips pressing to your ear. ‘Focus on my lips okay, don’t think about the pain.’

‘Okay.’ You said and let him press his lips to yours, kissing you deeply, tongue playing with yours. It was messy and wet and you tried focusing on how warm and soft it felt and how his chest was hovering above yours. How his skin was radiating warmth and how his hands were caressing your breasts.

‘I’m sorry you are extremely tight. Not gonna last long.’ He apologized, forehead dropping against your shoulder as he came. You wrapped you arms around his neck, hands in his soft curls.

‘Can you wait a little before pulling out?’ You asked. It still hurt a little, though much less then before.

‘Of course love.’ He replied, pressing his cheek to your neck as you held him. When you felt okay he slowly pulled out and rolled next to you.

‘Pfhoah.’ He breathed and smiled at you. ‘So that happened.’ He stretched his empty arms out to you making grabbing hands. ‘Come here love, I want to hold you.’

You smiled too and let his arms wrap around you.

You stayed like that for a while until he got up to get himself cleaned up, you joining him a bit later in the bathroom. He was standing behind you as you brushed your teeth and looked at you through the mirror.

‘You are so Friggin gorgeous Y/N.’ He whispered against your hair.

You smiled as he sat down on the edge of the bathtub, looking at you while you washed your face and did your night routine.

‘Stop the staring Taylor and brush your teeth.’ You ordered.

‘Yeah in a bit.’ He said without moving.

You bended to the side, wiping some crème on his nose bridge with your finger.

He shrieked back. ‘Yikes, cold! ‘What is that.’

‘Night crème. It hydrates your skin overnight.’ You explained. ‘Want some too?’

‘Err.’

‘Here I’ll do it for you.’ You said. You liked doing these kind of things. ‘But first let’s clean your face.’ You got a small towel and put it under the warm water. Then you wiped his face, remaining crème on his nose with it. Once his face was clean you kneeled in front of him.

‘Now close your eyes.’ You demanded and started massaging the white substance into his soft skin. He looked so peaceful.

‘Don’t fall asleep here.’ You said smiling and kissed him gently on his forehead. You felt still flushed from what had just happened.

‘I’m not.’ He replied but he looked so sleepy.

’I’m going to bed.’ You said once the crème was evenly divided. ‘Join me?

He nodded. ‘Yeah in a bit.’ You stood up straight. You were still naked but you felt confident under his reassuring gaze. He looked at you as though maybe you were magic and it made you feel glowy and warm.

Once you were under the sheets, wearing a shirt you found in his closet you could hear him brushing his teeth from the bathroom and then the running of water.

When he joined you in the bed you wrapped your arms around his chest and hugged him tightly.

‘This was amazing.’ You mumbled. ‘I didn’t mind the pain.’

He laughed surprised. ‘Well if you thought this was good your mind is going to be blown once we do it more often.’

‘Can’t wait.’ You smiled, your lips against the soft skin of his chest. Having this boy in your arms at last made you feel so happy you wanted to cry from joy. You could feel his heartbeat against your cheek and had never been more happy or content than in this very moment.

check out @hiyadarlingirl for full story

#ROGER TAYLOR SMUT #roger taylor x reader smut #roger taylor imagine #ben hardy smut

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librationpoint · 5 years

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Kinktober ‘19 - Glory Hole

Day 29 - Glory Hole 1589 words, Ray/Brad, Ray/Many, Ray/Surprise Guest In which Ray spend Superbowl Sunday on his knees. Definitely NSFW this time.

Ray wasn't really sure how Brad had organized this. The physical part was easy enough. A small section of the garage was partitioned off by a couple of plywood sheets held up by a few two-by-fours, easily thrown together in an hour. There was a padded adjustable bench, the sort for gardeners that could be used to kneel or sit on, and a surplus cot to lay down. Several gallon jugs of water, a couple empties to relieve himself in, assortment of snack bars, small little reading lamp, iPad and portable TV: everything you could possibly need to spend a long afternoon in your very own personal glory hole. That and a comfy t-shirt, exercise shorts, and jock; no need to dress to impress here.

The social part, though. How did someone even do it? You couldn't exactly send out an email to everyone at your command saying, "Hey, guys, anyone want to come to my Superbowl party? There will be chips, dip, and also anonymous blowjobs."

Brad had better be saving some of that dip.

It was probably better that Ray didn't know anyway. The chances that anyone at the other end would even know Ray existed was slim to none; Brad kept his personal life private and the number of people on purely on his side who knew Ray was anything but a friend could be counted on two hands and most of those were family. Presumably none of them would be coming within a hundred miles of the house.

Ray could hear vehicles pulling up the drive. He used his iPad to check on his lipstick; he thought it was a nice touch for the no-homo types and the shade looked great on him anyways. He was assured of this. He went back to playing Angry Birds as he waited for someone to work up the nerve and come out to enjoy himself.

It took a while but finally the door from the garage to mudroom swung open, briefly spilling light through the room as a man walked in. Ray switched his lamp off, got on his knees, and peered through the hole. It was dim in the garage, with only a couple small LED night lights plugged in near the doors to keep people from tripping over a motorcycle part and smashing their heads open on the concrete. And privacy of course, couldn't forget that. There was too much shadow to see his face, but there was plenty Ray could still make out. Thirty-something, thick build but not overly chiseled, tank and cargo shorts, dubiously generic tribal tat on his right arm, cocky strut. Definitely some flavor of marine or soldier, probably had at least one ex-wife and a $50,000 truck with crippling loan interest.

He knew what he was doing, though. He opened his fly, tugged his boxers under his balls, and after a couple strokes put his hardening cock through the hole. Average size, maybe on the plump size, dark, uncut but clean: definitely a nice started piece. Ray went down and started sucking without any foreplay or teasing, he seemed like the sort there to get his rocks off fast. That proved correct. After a few minutes he shot a nice, salty load into Ray's mouth, zipped up, and left. Ray made a tally mark on the whiteboard next to the hole and went back to waiting.

Maybe another ten minutes passed before the door opened again. This guy was tall, not Brad-height but maybe LT sized, shaped kind of like a stork, all long limbs and angles. Probably another marine, the haircut was depressingly similar to what Ray had worn while he was in, but the hesitance and general bookish look suggested some sort of POG, or fobbit, or whatever the fuck they were called these days. Maybe Brad was trying to put some hair on the guy's chest.

He hesitated about a foot away. He unbuttoned his jeans and tugged him and his boxer-briefs down to about mid-thigh and just stood there, cock still soft amid a ginger bush.

"So, uh... do I just put it in, or should I jerk it a little first, or?"

Ray wanted to say, "shut up, your stupid dickweasel, this is a complete violation of glory hole etiquette." Instead he kept his trap shut and stuck his index finger through to gesture for him to stick it in. The guy did, and while it took a minute to get him hard, Ray could forgive a newbie a lot of sins when he had a nice long one to suck on. He had some staying power, too, not just from nerves. If Ray were the sort to fuck random POGs he'd definitely be on the list.

Things started to slowly pick up after that. Ray could practically predict when guys would start showing up by how things were going in the game; the moment a time-out was called someone was bound to come by and drop a load. He spent the whole of half-time on his knees servicing a non-stop line of cocks, to the point that his jaw felt like it might lock open by the time play started again. Mostly guys seemed to be observing the cumdump equivalent of urinal rules, staying outside the garage where they didn't have to see a guy get his dick sucked, but also clearly waiting right outside during the rush from the speed they came in as soon as another left. The exception were a trio of marines so clearly boots that it hurt, with identical buzz cuts and polo shirts, who came in together and got a little noisy as they watched each other shove their cocks into a hole with about as much enthusiasm and roughness as you'd expect from that sort. Ray didn't think he'd ever been so eager to please gunny that he'd have come over to give his kinky girl a nice throat fuck but then again at their age he'd still have been on the receiving end.

The evening was basically an X-rated Dr. Suess story about cocks. Big cocks, small cocks, fat cocks, skinny cocks. White cocks, black cocks, hairy cocks, shaved cocks. Ray was in cock heaven. The one constant was it was all clean cocks; clearly they had been screened for familiarity with the concept of soap. That was more than could be said about the last time Ray had tried this for more than one or two guys in a row, back after he'd gotten back from Afghanistan. Right before he'd started his thing with Brad, actually, which he didn't think was a coincidence. Brad liked his mouth only metaphorically diseased.

Near the end of the night, Ray caught a flash of sandy hair and a familiar gait. The man was hesitant, slowly making his way over, which gave Ray time to decide to give his mouth a rest. He pulled down his shorts and drizzled some lube on his fingers so he could quickly open himself up. His visitor put his cock through the hole and with a grunt Ray backed his ass right onto his.

"Shit," the guy said from the other side. "You fucked-up horny hick."

Ray braced himself against the other wall as his fellow redneck did what any redneck did when finding his cock up a slick hole and started fucking him. The angle was awkward and the plywood barrier made it impossible for him to properly deep-dick Ray, but getting some backdoor action after working his throat raw felt great. He freed his own much-neglected cock from his jock and started jerking in time to the thrusts. He was already dripping from the hours of cock overexposure. It didn't take much for him to shoot all over the concrete floor, biting his arm to keep quiet. His mystery fucker came shortly after, leaving a thin trail of cum dripping down Ray's taint after pulling out. Ray turned and managed to fit his first through to give him a big thumbs up.

He got a, "You are so fucking weird," in reply.

Things died down fairly quickly an hour or so after the game was over. Brad had firm ideas about people going home once a party hit the end point listed on the invites. Ray sent him a text to let him know he was thoroughly wrecked and to put a closed sign on the door. After a while there was no further noise from the house. Ray was about to curl up and take a nap when some Viking-looking motherfucker came in. Ray did his best to give the man's oversized donkey cock the love it deserved but frankly his lips were about to fall off and he ended up mostly jerking him off until he came all over Ray's face.

"Get out of there and help me clean up," Brad ordered.

"You better have saved me dinner," Ray said, opening the makeshift door and wobbling to his feet. He followed Brad back through the mudroom and into the kitchen. "I'm fucking starving."

"You've been eating all day."

"They're not literal protein shakes, jesus." A soft snoring noise distracted Ray from his quest for something new to stuff his mouth with, and a peek over the back of their biggest couch revealed an adorable rosy-cheeked redneck marine curled drunkenly around a pillow. Ray gave Brad a 'what part of anonymous did you misunderstand' look.

"He didn't have a designated driver," Brad said with a shrug.

"You big fucking softy."

#kinktober #generation kill

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sageclover61 · 5 years

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Batteries Not Required

AN: I just wanted to write a short story in true second person. No YN, no Y/N, not reader insert. It was supposed to be a short story about a Samuel Winchester with such a screwed up sense of self that it made sense to be in the second person. I’ve been obsessed with the Second Person Voice since before I read Bright Lights Big City by Jay McInerney in the 9th grade, which was recommended to me in a failing attempt to satisfy this hunger.

But it’s not a short story. And this six year old narrator is one Sam Winchester with Auditory Processing Disorder. Who John Winchester tries (succeeds?) at sacrificing to one Gabrieloki.

Please enjoy this introduction. Warning, John Winchester isn’t a very nice guy.

________________________________________________________________

Sir sliced your forearm with the silver dagger and you tried not to flinch as your blood ran out onto the ground. The containment circle you were inside was made of animal blood and a powder you were unfamiliar with, and you had no idea how it was holding because the rain had already thinned the circle.

It was dark and cold and you were soaked through your old tattered clothing. The rain hadn't stopped yet, but you could remember recent days that were long and hot. But the sun always disappears eventually.

This was for De. That was the only part of Sir's explanation you had understood and it was the only part that mattered. You needed De like a tree needed water. His existence made yours bearable.

"You have to want this, Sam," Sir had said, slower than he'd ever spoken to you before. "Loki only accepts willing sacrifices." The first sentence had made enough sense, but you did not comprehend the reason behind it.

"De?" you had asked instead. You didn't need to understand anything, as long as following the instruction meant getting him back.

"If you don't do this, you will never see your brother again."

You might have tried your best to follow Sir's instructions anyway, but there was no way you were going to do anything to put De at risk.

It's one of the few certainties of your life. There were three. De is stability, Sir is not to be trusted, and the burning and acrid scent that often surrounds him means pain and shouting and words you couldn't comprehend.

You don't smell it now, but you knew it was coming. You're kneeling and bleeding on the ground in the middle of the forest in the middle of the night and it's raining. You're not stupid and nothing is capable of surprising you. Whenever this is over, there’s going to be so much pungent scent you won’t be able to smell anything else.

"Find Loki," Sir commanded suddenly. It was the one command you had learned to always hear, and follow, though it always made your head feel further filled with sawdust and so much pain. It was also like filling your head with garage sale artifacts and pieces of things that didn't belong to you.

But you followed the command, closing your eyes and reaching for the figure who Sir believed could return De.

"Gabrieloki," your subconscious whispered. Behind closed eyes you saw a hasty sketch, like from an old book, but it was wrong. A facade of indifference behind a mask of anger behind so much pain it left you gasping for breath.

"Find Loki! You worthless waste of space!" Sir screamed. You felt rather than saw the foot coming over the circle to kick you right in the lower part of your stomach and your forehead slammed into the ground because it hurt too much to stay upright.

"Gabrieloki," you begged, too quietly for Sir to register the sound. You needed De.

There was a flash of light in your peripheral, but you didn't move. Sir's trained you well. Most of the time, it never even occurs to you to flinch.

De would call it self-preservation, but De isn't here. You haven't seen De in a very long time. But you don't want to think about that because it makes you feel sad.

You had felt abandoned then. De had left and you still wondered if you'd ever see him again and at the time you had believed that the very least he could do was take you with him.

But Sir has not let you out of his sight for more than a few minutes at a time and now, finally, you understand. Sir is here, with you and De is gone away from Sir,

And you've never wanted anything else more.

"It has been a very long time since a moron thought sacrificing snake skin to me was a good idea. I thought I was always clear about the necessity of a willing sacrifice."

It wasn't so much the voice of the new arrival that drew your attention back as it was the raindrops splattering on your head.

Sir said something in answer, but you had no idea what. Sometimes you get lost in your head and words have no meaning. Even when you're paying attention, they'll sometimes exist in a state of meaningless flux. Just like you.

"A willing sacrifice must be able to consent to being the sacrifice of their own free will, or else it's not a willing one."

"He is a willing sacrifice! Tell him, Sammy! Your sacrifice for Dean's return to me!"

You looked up at the figure you had brought here. Gabrieloki. His expression was one filled with rage, but you knew it wasn't rage towards you. Another mask. You thought his true mess of feelings might include sadness, but it hurt too much to try to dig deeper.

"De?" You wanted to see De. Nothing else mattered. You could be whatever he wanted you to be if it meant that you could join De away from Sir.

The edges of his anger seemed to fade, but maybe it was because it wasn’t you that he was mad at. But then the anger flared as he directed his gaze towards Sir. “You would exchange one son with another as though they are items to be bartered with?!”

You had to remind yourself that his displeasure wasn’t at you, not like Sir’s when you messed up the salt lines. Or anything else.

“I will do whatever it takes to get back my firstborn! Sammy’s not so unwilling a sacrifice, why won’t you accept it?!” The sound of falling rain and the occasional bird are infinitely more interesting to you than Sir’s current tirade. His loud and angry bustle was normal. Either there would be pain, or there wouldn’t be pain, and it was so commonplace that you were incapable of caring one way or the other any longer. Either was temporary. You would get your De back.

You knew your view of pain wasn’t the healthiest, but it reminded you that you were more alive than the oscillating language you so greatly related to. Did you sometimes wish your pain was greatly lessened? Absolutely. But to feel as though you were only moments from disappearing, not unlike the sounds that vanished in moments, was not any better.

You didn’t like feeling like water in a sieve, as though you had to hold close every fragment of yourself or watch it flow down the drain.

“What makes you think I would be willing to give you another son when you’re willing to so thoughtlessly discard the one you still have? This supposedly ‘consenting sacrifice’ is not walking into this with both eyes open, as I have always demanded.”

You were curious about the Gabrieloki. You had no idea who he was, only that Sir had demanded you summon him, so you did. You did not know what Sir had been asking of you, to be his willing sacrifice.

He was shorter than Sir and the physical differences extended to him looking less harsh. The complexities of his dialogue meant absolutely nothing to you, but that wasn’t relevant. Even with what little comprehension you did have, you were not so stupid as to not understand that they were talking about you.

You could be a good judge of character when you wanted to be and what you wanted was to get closer and understand. You settled yourself to speaking up instead, even though there were times when it was nearly impossible to say anything at all. “De? De afe?”

“Shut up!”

You didn’t look at Sir, but you knew the Mad Voice was directed at you. You knew that the word ‘stop’ was not spoken, but tone can carry intention.

You saw Sir raise a foot in anger, again, and this time you were unable to hold back the flinch. You only wanted pain as a necessary way to stay in reality.

You were already firmly in reality.

But the foot never connected. There was sudden silence and Sir appeared to be frozen in mid air.

The raindrops had stopped falling. They were still in the air, but not in motion.

You felt a tingling at the edge of your senses and your attention returned to Gabrieloki, a name which was decidedly too long. He looked more like an El, anyway. He wasn’t moving, but his stillness wasn’t as unnatural as Sir’s or that of the water droplets.

You were still kneeling right in front of him, so you settled back on your haunches. The only sound was you and the soft breathing of the one you were considering. You thought about smudging the lines of the containment circle, but you knew that it wasn’t holding him here, that he could leave whenever he wanted to. That he hadn’t left yet, and even the fact that he had shown up at all, meant that he had some reason to not leave yet.

You knew it was because of you. That should have scared you, but you weren’t frightened at all. You were happy.

In a moment of lightning inspiration, you knew what to do.

You pulled De’s stolen and unopened chocolate bar from your back pocket. He’d given it to you “In case of an emergency,” at a time close to the falling apart of everything. You didn’t want to recall the moments leading up to De being gone.

You held it towards El. You still had no idea what a willing sacrifice was, or what it had to do with you. But maybe he’d like a chocolate bar? “De? De afe?” you repeated, waving the candy bar.

El grinned and took the candy bar from you. Then he broke it into equal halves without removing the wrapper. You could tell that it was very melted chocolate bar and hoped that he wouldn’t mind.“Yes, Dean is safe.”

Then nothing mattered. You needed De, but Sir wasn’t safety, so De was better off wherever he was unless you could get to safety too. Then you could have him back.

“You’re a conundrum, aren’t you, Sammy.”

With the rest of the world in silence, it was easier to follow what was spoken. But they were just words. You didn’t have to know what they meant in a sentence to understand that the tone was not one of anger. Almost a chiding friendliness.

You didn’t try to piece enough words together to respond. You expected that he didn’t need a response. You merely watched to see what he would do.

He tossed the second half back at you and delicately removed the wrapper from his half. You stared at your half.

“I know what John wants, and I think I know what your brother wants.”

You unwrapped your half of the chocolate bar because you were sure that it was his intention for you to eat it, even though you didn’t understand why. The chocolate bar was more melted than you’d thought and you managed to get it all over your hands before you had any pieces to put in your mouth.

You tilted your head at the word ‘brother’. You were sure he was talking about De, even if the rest of the sentence was entirely lost.

Did he know where De was? Could he take you to him? Would he be willing to do so, if you were on your best behavior and asked really nicely?

The silence persisted until your train of thought ended and you tilted your head to study the stranger again. What did he want in exchange?

“What do you want, Kiddo?”

#Second Person narrator #Sam Winchester #Gabriel #kid fic #supernatural fanfiction

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