#she just feels lonely but then Spike comes along and offers something new for her to get her out of her box and discover more out there | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seiyasabi · 3 years

Text

Fixation

(This is a Yandere Yelena x Fem Reader story ;)) This takes place in a Modern AU outside of the anime, and I won’t justify my reasoning lmao

TW: Coercion, !Drugging!, Manipulation, !Noncon!, !Dubcon!, Daddy kink (ehehe), spanking, she’s a straight up Dom w her tall ass, kinda a meanie, degradation!, handcuffs!, use of sex toys!, Overstim!, size kink!, dumbification?, unwanted filming!, etc..

Proceed with caution! Sorry if this is too self indulgent lmao, when women (lesbians) talk to me, I become the biggest idiot to ever exist :)) )

Today wasn’t the best day to wear a skirt.

Begrudgingly smoothing down the lilac fabric of your skirt, you huff indignantly. All you wanted to do was look cute for your crush, Marco, but it seems that that was too much to ask for.

Your white sweater, at least, keeps you somewhat warm from the harsh wind. It’s tucked into the waistband of your high waisted skirt, and your thigh high socks push the fat of your cute thighs out slightly. The sound of your white sneakers against the pavement is drowned out by your classmates’ loud voices, and you’re seemingly unaware of a certain black-eyed glare.

Seeing your classroom come into view, you hurry inside, sliding into your lab assigned seat. Eyeing the dark haired male of your dreams, you can’t help but sigh pathetically at the fact that he hasn’t noticed you. Up until recently, the two of you were great friends-always hanging out and texting one another. But, the moment the both of you picked up this class, everything changed.

Hearing the seat next to you slide open, you glance up at your seatmate. Smiling up at the tall woman, you greet her kindly, “Hi, Lena! How’re you today?”

The Russian exchange student smirks down at you, as she plops onto the seat, “Good, now that you’re here.”

Laughing at her gruff words, you wave her off, “You always say that,” Zipping open your backpack, you pull out your class notes, “What’re you going to do this weekend?”

Her smirk widens, dark eyes gleaming, “Why? Asking me on a date?” You laugh once more, completely oblivious to her hopeful tone.

“You’re so funny, Lena,” Pulling out your pack of multicoloured pens, you start to set up for your class, “I just heard you speaking with Annie about ‘something big’ the other day, so I became curious.”

Not one to acknowledge boundaries, the blonde woman starts to play with your (hair/sweater), “I’m throwing a party, one you should come to,” Her tone leaves no room to negotiate, but you don’t really notice. Nodding, you smile up at her.

“Sounds fun! When is it and who’s going?” Her hand trails down to your thigh, fiddling with your sock. Brushing off your mild alarm at her ministrations, you justify her actions through your cultural differences.

“Tonight at eight. Annie and her friends should be there, same with Marco and a few others,” She name dropped the kind man on purpose, knowing your misguided infatuation with him. If only you knew how much of a pussy he is. All she did was threaten him once, and suddenly he stayed clear of you. It made her life easier, sure, but it annoyed her that he dropped you like a gutted fish. You’re too good for that.

Pulling out your phone, you pull up your calendar, showcasing that you have no plans this evening, “Okay, I can go!”

Her smirk grows wider than before, “Great,” Yelena’s accent seemingly grows thicker, her r rolling more harshly than before.

With that, class begins without a hitch; Yelena’s hand still glued to your perfect thigh.

Stepping out of your car, you readjust your new outfit. Keeping the thigh highs from earlier, you changed your lilac skirt for a black, body con one, along with a cropped, black long sleeve shirt that accentuates your cleavage.

Slamming your car door shut, you lock it with your key, before heading towards Yelena’s luxurious flat. You can hear low music and voices from her open top floor balcony, multiple shadows moving inside her home.

With a fast beating heart, you can’t help but hope that Marco will speak with you tonight. With that hope deep in your chest, you step inside the fancy building’s lobby. Approaching the front desk, you go to show them your ID, but are met with brightly smiling faces.

“Go on up to the tenth floor, (Your Name)! Yelena already told us that you’re coming!” Surprise overcomes your form. Why do they know you by appearance alone? You’ve never even been here before.

“Oh, okay! Thank you,” Deciding to ignore the weird situation at hand, you head towards the lift. Pressing the button, you wait a few moments, before stepping into the open lift doors. The sleek metal walls reflect your appearance back at you, whilst you press the pristine ‘10’ button. With a small beep, the lift begins to move, practically flying at top speed to the top floor.

Once at the tenth floor, the doors fly open, showing what looks to be a living room. You can’t help but gawk at the large flat displayed before you. Your classmate must be quite wealthy to afford a place like this.

You awkwardly make your way inside, and are immediately greeted by the party’s host, “Hey, (Your Name), welcome!” You’re side hugged by a buff arm, practically slammed into Yelena’s torso.

“Hey, thanks for having me!” You pat her back in an attempt to have her let you go, but instead, it seems to spur her on. She drags you towards a large L-shaped couch, which is filled by Annie, Reiner, and Bertholdt. A handful of others sit at her dining room table and kitchen counter, the open concept allowing everyone to see and speak to each other comfortably.

Reiner glances up from the story he’s telling Historia and Ymir, a grin painting his handsome features, “Whoa, that’s a new look for you, (Your Name)!”

Multiple eyes are suddenly glued to your now self conscious form, an uneasy smile on your face, “Hello, everyone.”

“Don’t get me wrong, you look great! It’s just really different from your normal, cute clothes,” People nod and agree with the large man, causing you to break out in a nervous sweat.

“Well, I hope I don’t look too bad,” You joke halfheartedly, “I just wanted to try something new.”

Yelena takes your appearance in, practically salivating. Whilst she does enjoy your usual clothing, this look fits you quite well.

“You look very nice,” Bertholdt reassures soothingly, patting the spot by him, “You can sit next to me, if you’d like.”

The short haired woman glued to your side reacts immediately, “No, the girl needs a drink,” Annie shoots her a knowing look, which she nods to in response. You’re practically ragdolled to the kitchen bar, as the conversation starts up once more. Once at the marble countertop, the large woman releases you in favour of pouring you a cup of spiked punch, “This is very good. Made it myself.”

You give her a bright smile, accepting the red solo cup, “Cool! I’m sure it’s delicious!” Bringing the cup to your (lipstick/chapstick/lipgloss) coated lips, you take a small sip. A burst of fruity goodness explodes on your tastebuds, making your eyes widen in surprise. You can’t taste a drop of alcohol in it, “Wow! This is really good!”

A proud grin overtakes her lips, as she nods her thanks, “Of course it is. I knew you were coming, after all,” You laugh in response, and take another sip of the red liquid.

“I see! Well, you have a very nice home!” The tall woman leans against the counter, holding herself up with an arm that goes behind your form.

“Thank you. It’s very spacious. I find myself lonely at times,” Her large, black eyes stare down at you, trying to send you a message through them alone.

“Oh, well, have you tried getting a roommate? Maybe the flat won’t be so empty,” She nods at your words.

“Yes, that’s a good idea. Would you be my roommate?” You laugh, thinking that she’s joking. Not bothering to look up, as you take another swig of your drink, you don’t see the somewhat hurt look on her face.

“That would be something! Not only are we seatmates, but we’re also roommates,” You giggle some more, taking more sips of your delicious drink, “But, your flat is a lot nicer than mine. I may take up on your offer.”

Looking up, you see her grin at you approvingly, “Yes, that would be nice,” What you don’t know is that her lease is almost up, making it so she has paperwork she needs to fill out. Paperwork that would look great with your co-sign on it.

Three drinks in, and you’re feeling a bit woozy. Typically, you’re not a lightweight, but it seems that you are tonight.

Leaning your upper body onto Yelena’s strong form, you laugh hysterically at something Reiner says, “Oh my God, you’re hilarious-” You cut yourself off with a snort, causing the entire room to laugh at your cute giggling.

The short haired woman you’re currently using as a pillow holds you tenderly, a pleased smile on her face. The stuff Annie gave her works very well.

“Man, if you weren’t Yelena’s girl, I would’ve cuffed you a semester ago!” Reiner roars wholeheartedly, slapping the leather couch below him.

In your cloudy mind, you barely understand the words he just said, “Haha, wha-?”

Pushing your head into her breasts, Yelena shushes you, “My poor baby is such a lightweight,” She and the others chuckle at that understatement, “I think it’s time to turn in for the night.”

Her civil way of kicking everyone out was enough, as everyone trickles out of her luxurious flat. Once the last person leaves, Yelena stands to her feet, scooping you up in her buff arms. She goes to her lift, pressing the lock input, she types in the lock code, not allowing anyone in or out of her home. Your high mind can barely comprehend what’s going on around you.

She hums an unknown tune, as she goes up her steps to her master bedroom. Kicking open the door, she flips on her bedroom light with her elbow, before shutting the door with her foot. Sauntering to her California King sized bed, she lays your drugged out form on her light grey coloured sheets.

“-Lena, wha-” Your head lulls to the side as you giggle uncontrollably, “-Are- are we dating?” She hums in response, starting to pull down your skirt.

“Yes, my Darling Girl,” She smooches your forehead, “We’ve been together since I moved here,” Pulling your skirt’s fabric down and off of your legs, she tosses it on the floor, exposing your pink panties.

“Bu-but, I like Marco,” You weakly attempt to push her grabby hands away from you, “I-I wan’ Marco!”

The feelings of disgust, envy, and fury overwhelm her all at once. How dare you! She’s always treated you so well, that spineless fucker doesn’t deserve anything from you! He especially doesn’t deserve your wonderful heart!

She says nothing, grabbing your blouse, and chucking it off of you. Your breasts jiggle at her ministrations, your bra just barely containing your tits. Seeing your almost bare, perfect body makes her pussy tingle, but her anger outweighs her arousal.

Settling on the bed, she grasps your boneless body, and pulls you over her knees. You’re still muttering and questioning the validity of your relationship, all whilst saying that horrible boy’s name, causing her to cup the fat of your ass and squeeze harshly.

“Baby, you know better than to say those horrible things. I love you very much, and it hurts to hear you say that.”

Your breasts, arms, and head rest over her left knee, as you try to look up at her stern face, “But-”

“No buts, you know what happens when you act like a brat,” She slaps your ass experimentally, earning a pained yelp. A small smirk covers her lips, and she hits your ass as hard as she can.

“‘M sorry! ‘M sorry! I didn’t mean it!” Your pleading is cute, so cute.

“I know you didn’t, Princess. But I have to remind you of your place,” She slams her hand down once more, jolting your entire body. A shrill cry leaves your lips, as you try to move off of her lap, but seemingly can’t find the strength to do so.

After five more smacks, the blonde pulls you onto her lap in a straddling position. One of her arms wraps around your top half, pushing your crying face into her neck. The other is wrapped around your waist, hand smoothing over your bruising ass, and playing with the hem of your panties.

“Don’t cry, Princess. You know I had to set you straight,” She coos, “Your stupid, little brain is far too gone to understand at the moment, but you will once you sober up. So, for now, let your Daddy make you feel good.”

You mutter nonsensical words in between your sobs, but the large woman isn’t put off. After she’s done with you, you’ll never think of that freckled fuck ever again. At least, you won’t unless you want him dead.

Wrestling your pliant body to the mattress once more, she leaves you on the bed by yourself, before rolling onto the left side. Opening the top drawer of her nightstand, she pulls out a pair of handcuffs, a battery powered hitachi wand, duct tape, and a small bottle of lube. Setting them on the bed by your writhing form, she quickly makes her way back to you.

“Shh, it’s alright, Princess. I’m right here,” Yelena reaches under you, fiddling with your bra’s hooks until it pops open, allowing her to slide your useless arms out of the garment. Tossing it aside, she sucks in a deep breath, enjoying the view of your plush chest. Experimentally, she pinches your right nipple, relishing the small moan you let out at the feeling. Gripping the handcuffs next to you, she feeds your dainty wrists through the opening, popping the pink, plush cuffs on tightly. Happy with the result, she continues her endeavour.

Moving farther down your body, she leaves your socks on, loving how your thigh fat squishes up a bit. Grabbing the hem of your cute, pink panties, she pushes them off of you, exposing your pretty cunny. It separates from you with a small string of slick, filling Yel with a sense of satisfaction. You’re her perfect pain slut, aren’t you?

Pushing on your pliant legs open, she smiles happily down at you, dark eyes blown wide open, “Awe, is your slutty pussy wet for me?”

You shake your head rapidly, disorienting yourself more than before, “Nu-no! It’s not!” She clicks her tongue teasingly, her smile growing wider than before.

“Don’t lie to me, Princess. Now I have to punish you once more,” Forcing your legs open, she holds them down with her own, straddling your waist. Her large form easily overpowers you, as she grabs the blue hitachi wand, and flips it on to the highest setting. Pushing it against your clit with a swift motion, your entire body jolts at the sudden stimulation. A loud whine leaves your lips, as you try to buck it off of your sensitive cunny.

“Puh-please! Take it off! It’s too much!” Yelena snickers in delight, ignoring your pleading. Grabbing the duct tape from beside you, she rips off a few long strips, before smacking them onto your skin and the vibrator, effectively keeping it attached to you.

Your moans and whimpers continue to grow louder and louder, as you try your best not to cum. You bite your lips in the hopes of stifling yourself, but it does little to help. If anything, it just spurs the large woman on.

“Go on, cum for me, cum for Daddy,” You shake your head, a few keens falling from your mouth, as she watches in awe at the way your cunny leaks and clenches around nothing.

Your toes curl in ecstasy as you cum, a loud whine escaping you. A gush of your orgasm flows from you, wetting the blonde woman and the mattress below. Two long, slender fingers prod at your slick pussy, forcing themselves inside your sensitive walls.

“Good Girl, You’re so Good for me,” They Start to move in a ‘come hither’ motion, hitting your g-spot repeatedly with how long her fingers are.

“Too much! Too much!” You cry, as she quickly brings you over the edge once more.

More slick sprays from your cunny, as overstimulation begins to set in. Yelena captures your lips with hers, thrusting her tongue into your mouth. The kiss is wet and hot, as she grips at your plush chest.

“No, no it’s not, Baby. It’s not enough,” Fumbling with her fly, she releases the strap she’s been wearing all night. In all honesty, she’s surprised that you hadn’t noticed the bulge or felt it underneath your ass earlier. It’s a good ten inches in length, and around 5.5 inches of girth.

It is pretty intimidating for most, but due to your fucked out stupor, it should feel amazing for you. Grabbing the lube, she squeezes a small amount onto the silicone cock, smoothing it over the toy in sync with her fingers pumping inside of you.

Deeming the toy and your cunny ready, she makes the next move. Sliding off of your numb legs, she stands to her feet, towering over you in all of her glory. Hefting you up and off of the mattress, she quickly punched your back against her pristine, white wall. Forcing your arms around the back of her head, she continues to kiss your drooly mouth vigorously.

Wrapping your legs around her slender waist, her large leg muscles and arms work to hold you up. Guiding your dripping cunny over the tip of her strap, she slowly sinks you onto it.

A keen of both surprise and pleasure rips out of your throat, as you grip onto her short, blonde locks. Giggling, she bucks her hips into yours sharply, causing you to orgasm on the spot. The vibrator and her strap on feels like heaven.

Throwing your head back in bliss, you feel your arousal drip onto her dress pants, creating even more wet spots than before. Separating from your lips, she grins down at you.

“Look at you, dirty Girl,” She spanks your ass harshly with one hand, as she continues a hardcore pace. The tip of the silicone cock batters against your cervix, causing you to cry out in both pleasure and pain, “You love it when Daddy ruins your pussy, don’t you?”

Too fucked out to think properly, you nod your head vigorously, “Uh-huh! Uh-huh! I love Daddy’s cock!” She kisses your cheek tenderly, not stopping her thrusts for even a moment. Moving her lips down your vulnerable neck, she starts to suck the tender skin, leaving dark love marks on your pretty skin.

“Mmm, good Princess! Since you’re such a good girl, I think you deserve a treat. Do you want a treat? Does your dumb little mind even understand what I’m saying?” You nod once again, eyes teary and pleading.

“Yes! Yes! I want a treat, please, Daddy!” Smirking against your skin, she reaches into her pocket from around your thigh.

“Since you asked so nicely-“ She presses the injector lever, shooting a large load of fake cum into your gummy, needy pussy. You cum almost immediately, this clearly being the biggest orgasm of the night, as you practically convulse and squirt a geyser of cum all over the place, “I think you deserve Daddy’s cum inside you.”

You practically sob at the overstimulation and the feeling of being so full, “Thank you! Thank you, Daddy!” You kiss her of your own volition, surprising the large woman. Her heart warms, loving how you’ve become so submissive.

Cradling you’re form to her muscular body, she saunters back towards the bed, pushing any other objects off and into the night side table.

Placing you on the now dry sheets, she quickly flicks off the vibrator still taped to your clit, before placing it on the table beside her. Plucking off the duct tape, she then takes off your handcuffs, effectively freeing you. Instead of moving away from the woman, you lay there tiredly, no longer processing the situation.

Sighing in content, Yelena grabs a hand towel from the drawer she keeps her sex toys in, and wrestles it under your hips. Smiling, she removes the strap from inside of you, enjoying the sight of the fake cum flooding out of you.

Laying next to you, she pulls your head into her chest, curling around you as if she were a safety blanket.

“You did well, Princess,” You don’t say anything, snuggling into her warmth, “Go to sleep, tomorrow we’ll announce our official status, okay?”

An slurred ‘Okie’ is heard, before you slip into unconsciousness. Cupping your face in appreciation, her dark eyes glance in the direction of a small green light coming from her video camera.

Now you’ll have to date her; after all, you wouldn’t want your sex tape to get out, would you?

#yelena #yelena x reader #yandere yelena #yandere aot #yelena brainrot #yelena aot #aot x reader #yelena thirst #yelena smut #yelena supremacy #yandere aot x reader

1K notes · View notes

katwritessometimes · 4 years

Text

In The Dark

Shadow Monster Aizawa x Reader

A collab piece for @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten Citrus Dome Server

Read the other entries HERE

Warnings: somnophilia, dub-con, non-con, tetraphilia eeee tentaicles kind of? Monster fucking, manipulation, tiny little sprinkling of yandere if you squint.

5kish words

@bobawithpomegranate & @miscellaneous-bnha thanks for keeping me from jumping off a bridge. This was surprisingly very challenging to write so i hope you guys enjoy.

The sight of your grandmother’s old home brought comfort into your heart in a way nothing else ever could. It had taken much longer than you would have liked to get here, after almost a year of fighting with the family. Legal battles over property and inheritance, you'd finally been handed the keys to the beautiful old Victorian home your grandmother had loved so much. The outside was weathered but held strong, you were sure the inside would be worse after being empty and neglected for so long. With a sigh, you picked up the cleaning supplies you'd brought with you and made your way inside the house.

You don't notice it at first,

He’d noticed you the second you walked onto the porch.

Singing softly to yourself, you make your way through the old house, flipping lights on to make sure the electricity works. Opening up windows and doors to air the dusty old place out. Except once you set your mind to cleaning it becomes blatantly obvious. The house isn't dusty, the house is fairly clean, no dust having settled anywhere, no cobwebs hanging in abandoned corners. You think for a second maybe the lawyer hired someone to come clean before handing over the keys, but you don't recall her mentioning anything like that.

With a shrug determined to do some light cleaning anyway, you spend the day unpacking some of the stuff you brought and lightly cleaning as you went. The first time you notice it it’s dark out, dim lights illuminating the house. Christ, why did grandma have such shitty lightbulbs in, you’d think an older woman would want brighter lights as her vision faded. The thought slips from you when you hear something crash onto the floor behind you. You turn quickly, something flinting in the corner of your eye as you turn, heart rate spiking, and you freeze. You were sure you saw something going up the stairs.

Taking a breath in an attempt to calm your breathing, you pick up the painting that had somehow been knocked off its mount. A creaking coming from the second floor has your head snap in that direction. It’s an old house, you chant in your head trying to not let yourself get worked up. You don’t realize you're making your way up the stairs until the old wood creaks loudly under your weight. Your attention is drawn to your grandmother’s room, the only place you haven't been in just yet. You dig around your pocket for the master key that gave you access into the main bedroom, worried that maybe this is where all the dust and cobwebs had scampered off too. You chuckle to yourself at that and it settles your nerves a little, though you can't pinpoint why you're suddenly nervous.

Much to your surprise, your grandmother’s old bedroom was just as clean as the rest of the house had been, even though no one should have been able to access it. You almost miss the small box sitting on her bed if not for something skittering in the corner of your eyes turning your attention to it. You do miss the shadow that slinks out behind you pausing at the doorway to watch you for a second. You reach out for the ornate box, a letter sitting on top of it with your name written neatly on the front. But before your fingers can make contact with it, the door behind you slams loudly. You jump at the sound, hands coming up to clutch at your chest, curses spilling from your lips as you turn to see the door is closed now.

“Fucking old house” You yell aloud unable to control your volume after having been spooked. Your yelling makes you miss the deep chuckle that rings out in the air.

Cute

You pout upset that you’d let yourself be so easily spooked like that. Running a hand through your hair you turn your attention back to the small box and letter picking up both items before heading out of the bedroom. You look back one last time, unsure if you felt ready to disturb your grandmother’s space just yet. Opting to leave it as it was, if only for a little while longer.

You probably should have read the letter too, things would have made sense much quicker if you had.

Two weeks of dusting and cleaning out old boxes before you decided it was time to begin moving your things into the house. It had been slightly odd, something for sure was off about the house but you tried not to think about it too much. Handling most of the weird mishaps in the house with a shrug and no real inclination to question it. The last thing that came with you into the new house was your two cats. A sleek black tom who loves you and only you, and a younger larger orange tom who’s all around very friendly. You hate to say you notice a shift in the house when the cats finally settle. Both the boys took to the house as if they’d always been there, something you were struggling with. It was their presence that made it so that you could no longer pretend like you didn’t see the shadows moving.

Both cats who’d always preferred lazing in sun rays suddenly preferred the dark corners of the living room over the sunny rays leaking in through the large bay window in the house. Demanding meow’s typically indicative of wanting attention, were used in dark corners of the house. Directed at something you couldn’t see. You’d be able to ignore the behavior, except every time you went looking for them when they called.

You’d find them happily purring, rubbing up against something that wasn't there in the darkness, as if already being given the attention they were asking for. It was creepy, weird, should have creeped you out. But you’d been raised to have a healthy fear and respect towards things you couldn't understand but were not outright malicious. So you tried not to let it bother you too much, don't question the way shadows seem to move. Or when the cats' purr and flop on their backs for tummy scratches in the dark corners of the house.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The dreams had begun the first night at the house, an all-encompassing warmth that lazily spreads throughout your whole body. Contrasted by cold hands caressing your skin, a deep rich voice whispering dirty things in your ear and working you up to a feverish pitch.

“Pretty little mouse wandering into my house” the voice coos in your ear.

And then you’re awake, panting heavily, a groan spilling past your lips as you toss and turn a little in your bed.

“Fuck.” you whimper out, bringing your arm up over your face as you try and catch your breath.

You can’t remember exactly what you dreamt about, only the deep voice murmuring nothings in your ear and cold fingers playing with your folds. You let out an exasperated sigh squirming in bed frustration seeping into your bones. When was the last time you had a dream like that, you couldn't remember? When was the last time you’d been worked up like this, and from a dream no less? You let out a frustrated huff turning and burying your face in the pillow. You could have sworn you heard a deep chuckle ring out.

They get more detailed, more vivid the longer you're at the house you're almost used to waking up panting and sweaty. The feeling of cool silky tendrils exploring your body lingering for a bit before slinking off as you become more alert. Groggily whining at being awake after dreaming such filthy things. The feeling of your wetness soaking through your panties frustrating you. Always waking up right before the best part of the dream, so you throw the blankets off of yourself in a huff. Spreading your legs wide you trail your fingers over the lingering sensation of someone else’s touch.

It drives him wild.

Aizawa was on the edge of insanity when you showed up at the old house. A year of solitude will do that to you, he'd been beyond madness when the old lady bought the house all those years ago. Though she's brought him back with a soft kindness only a grandmother could offer.

You,

You brought a clarity to his mind in a different way. Every little curse, every time you scold the house when something disappears. Every time you touched yourself to thoughts of him, to the lingering feeling of his tendrils and hands on you. Aizawa was able to pull himself little by little out of the pit insanity and loneliness had pulled him into. You were so easy too, subconsciously letting the shadow creature infect every ounce of your being. He'd managed to seep into your dreams easily enough, a lonely pent up girl. He liked how you squirmed in your sleep.

Desperate little whimpers spilling from your lips as his cool fingers explore your body. It was addicting, the way your warmth spread through him with every touch, every explorative lick of your body lighting a fire deep in Aizawa's belly.

“Pretty little thing aren't you.” Aizawa coos in your ear, and you always react so beautifully to his voice. Your sleeping body responding with a soft whimper, he lets his tendrils explore every inch of you. Slipping underneath the silk PJ top and skimpy little shorts you always wore to bed. You were practically offering yourself up to him each and every night. How could he ever resist when your body reacted like this to his every touch. He’d started slowly at first, only manifesting his tendrils to creep along your body as you slept.

Once you’d been there for a few months he didn’t even have to worry about you waking up. Having invaded your dreams enough to be able to keep you in a nice deep sleep while he had his way with you. Settling himself between your legs fully manifested, never happier to have this solid form as when he's trailing large callus palms up to your soft legs. It’s so easy, really he can’t help himself, your wetness quickly soaking through your panties as cold fingers rub at your clit. Heady little moans spilling from your sleeping frame and it makes him giddy, trailing a large hand up and under your shirt. Pressing against the soft skin of your stomach and trailing up to gently squeeze at your breasts. Aizawa loves the way your body reacts to him, whimpering and arching against his touch. He shifts then, leaning over your sleeping body, caging your head between his hands, leaning down to nuzzle his nose into your hair.

Can’t help himself as he trails open mouth kisses down your neck, tangling his fingers through your hair, you lean into his touch. A soft whimper of please slips through your lips and Aizawa can barely contain himself as his hips buck against your core.

“Begging for me in your sleep, sweet girl, already knows who she belongs to. Don’t you.”

You mewl, a soft pretty sound that Aizawa plays in his head over and over for days. Humping into your soaked panty-clad pussy desperately. His tendrils emerging from his back of their own accord, stroking and rubbing up against you as he mindlessly pleasures himself against your unconscious frame. Your little pants and moans edging him on until he's groaning against your neck, spilling himself onto your cute little silk PJ shorts. Aizawa lets himself bask in the feeling of your warmth against him littering your face in kisses.

“My good girl.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You conclude something is living in the house one night during an intense thunderstorm. Living in a house with some creature that may or may not try to eat you? Cool fine, no worries. But a thunderstorm? The loud unpredictable booms that tear through the air make you jump every single time without fail.

You flinch, once again roused by a loud clap of thunder and a harsh flash of lightning. An involuntary whimper slipping past your lips as you curl up into a ball on the bed doing your best to block out the noise of the raging storm.

You can feel it when a cool blanket envelopes you, a shift in the air that muffles all of the intense noise. The feeling of something carding its fingers through your hair comes next, ever so lightly scratching at your scalp. “It’s just a storm” A deep voice that seems to come from all around whispers and a strange comfort washes over you as your body begins to relax. You're half asleep, it's easy to lean into the gentle caress when you're not quite awake. Easy to ignore the feeling of tendrils creeping across your legs and stomach. You can't help but feel slightly comforted by them in your half-asleep state.

An exceptionally loud clap of thunder jolts you into a more awake state and you shoot up in bed. The hazy fog that was keeping you calm dispelling and you whimper as the comfort leaves you. “Please don't leave” you whisper aloud unsure to who or why you even spoke. A deep voice coos at you as thunderclaps outside again and you tremble. A yelp slips past your lips and your hands reach out towards the deep voice as if on instinct. Something safe that will soothe you if only you can reach out and touch it.

A chuckle thick like honey floats into your ears and your hands meet something soft. You're groggy, half asleep, and confident you're just imagining things, but that doesn't take away from the comfort. It feels like a million different arms wrap around you, pulling you in towards something solid and the hazy fog returns your body relaxing as the tendrils tighten almost uncomfortably around you. Wrapping you up in a cocoon that feels safe and secure, the thunderstorm outside fading into the background and all you can concentrate on is the deep voice mumbling nothings in your ear.

It's in the days after the storm when you can still hear his deep voice in your ears and feel his warm touch lingering on your body. That you remember the letter and box your grandmother had left you. You feel a little stupid for not thinking of reading them earlier, having been caught up in the whirlwind of moving you'd put them off to the side and almost forgotten entirely about them

To my lovely granddaughter,

If you’re reading this then it means you've agreed to the stipulations I included for ownership of the house. This place is special, and if you take care of the house its caretaker will return the favor. Be patient with him, it takes him a little while to warm up but he won't hurt you. I promise I haven't gone crazy with old age. Allow yourself to be open to the things in life we can’t explain. I hope the house is as good to you as it was to me in my old age.

It doesn’t explain much, but coming from a family that believed in the supernatural made it so that your grandmother's cryptic words didn't freak you out as much as they should have. They made you feel better actually, soothed the part of you that was nervous you might be going crazy. The small box held a pendant, a small but brilliant ruby ordaining the center of it delicate but practical enough for daily wear. You can't help but slip it on and admire the pretty jewel.

Aizawa is more active after that, the haze in his mind settles when he sees you wearing his necklace. You notice it too, the shadows in the house somehow softening, almost playful. He likes to move your things around so he can hear you huff in frustration. Every curse every time you yell at him, the fog in his mind clears.

He gets bolder around the house, slowly but surely, starts moving things around more obviously. Enjoys making you jump by slithering his tendrils across your ankles while you're cooking. Or shutting off the lights while you shower just to hear your cute little yelp. He likes that you’re somehow not scared of his presence but still easily spooked overall.

“That foundation was $50 and if it's not back in my makeup bag when I come back I swear to god I'll keep all the lights on for a week.” You see the shadow swirl in the corner of the bathroom, and you know it's smiling at you. You roll your eyes but the next morning your foundation is sitting right on the bathroom sink.

You begin to catch glimpses of it, of him. As if your attention is helping him manifest fully after a long time of being nothing but a wisp of smoke. Most obvious when your eyes scan the house and you can almost swear a man is petting one of your cats. Only to double back and see your cat rolling over against a dark corner of the room. You almost stop feeling uneasy, almost.

It all comes to head on a night where sleep seems unreachable. You were frustrated, panting, skin warm, and sticky with sweat as your fingers skillfully circled your clit but no relief came. You let out a frustrated ‘fuck’ throwing your head back onto the pillow and tossing a hand over your face. You’d been pent up for a while now, the weird lewd dreams working you up but never getting you anywhere. You do your best to relax into the bed, accepting defeat with a groan and hoping sleep overtakes you quickly.

The feeling of something wisping against your ankles brings you back from the edge of sleep. Cool ever so soft touches trail up your legs, you shiver at the cold sensation against your still warm and sweaty skin. Your eyes flutter open but you're only met with black, body tensing a little as cold tendrils stroke your face.

“You’re ok little one.” The voice is deep against your ear, a cold forked tongue licking up the side of your cheek. “I’ve got you” The same soothing voice you’d heard during the thunderstorm. Except for this time, it's laced with something other than softness. “I’ve been watching you, little human. Spreading yourself open shamelessly, playing with that pretty pussy out in the open. Pretending like you didn’t know I was here to watch.” Aizawa coos.

You whimper at the words, mist curling around you as a dark chuckle fills the room. “Tease” he snarls in your ear and you can’t help yourself as your hips buck up at the sound. Something solid forms between your legs, the soft smooth thing wraps around your ankles assisting in spreading your legs out wide. The deep voice tsks against your ear, cold skin and stubble rubbing against your cheek “You could at least pretend like you're not enjoying this.”

Your face flushes as he teases you, the sensation of his foreign appendages exploring your body exciting you in a way you can't quite place. They’re not hands that much you can tell, you can distinguish his hands by the callus texture as he strokes a thumb over one of your nipples. Tweaking at it gently until it perks against his fingers.

“Aren’t you scared little mouse” you can feel his tongue lapping at your neck, sharp teeth pricking the skin there and you let out a whimper. Managing only to shake your head, arching your chest up into his touch as he plays with you. “Desperate little human, willing to take just about anything if it means being satisfied.” You choke out a protest but can’t help the soft moan that bubbles out of your mouth as Aizawa presses his thigh against your sex. He coos into your ear when you begin to hump him mindlessly.

“Such simple little creatures humans. Driven by desire, and willing to fuck just about anything aren't you little one?” You shake your head in protest, but the excitement pooling in your belly betrays you. Aizawa chuckles and pulls away from you a little, tendrils pooling from him and eagerly joining the fray. The limbs have a mind of their own, each appendage going about playing with you in different ways. One replaces his hands, squeezing and pinching at your breasts. Another brings your hands up and holds them above you keeping you still with minimal effort. A few others explore your body and Aizawa watches, as one of his appendages eagerly begins tugging aside your cute little PJ bottoms.

You whine out a “No” as the cold air hits your soaked entrance “That's not what your pretty little pussy is telling me.” Aizawa chuckles watching as the tendrils gather your juices up, gently circling your clit and parting your folds. “Look at you, soaked and ready for me aren't you.” His hand replaces the tendril and you feel cold fingers press into your heat. Your pussy clenches at the intrusion but you buck into him automatically. Already worked up from playing with yourself before, your body betrays you as your mind hazes and all you can think about is pleasure.

“P-Please” You choke out tugging against the restraints that only tighten when you struggle. Aizawa cocks an eyebrow up at you as he leans down, nuzzling at your inner thigh. Tongue lapping at the juices running down between your supple ass. He hums when you beg a smile tugging at his lips, his fog finally taking hold of you.

“What was that little mouse? Did you say something” He accentuates his words with another finger and you cry out as he finger fucks you. His tongue lazily licking at the edges of your pussy and then up to rub at your clit. You whine, hips bucking up and Aizawa sighs another tendril coming to wrap around your waist and pins you to the bed.

“Be still, or I'll leave you here.” You freeze at that babbling for him not to leave you and settle your hips. The appendage keeps you still squeezing you just a little too tight.

“That's a good girl.” Aizawa hums, turning his attention back to your core. “You look so pretty like this baby girl, spread out for me to do whatever I want. You just keep giving me those pretty little noises and I'll make you feel good, okay?” You moan in response and Aizawa clicks his tongue, the tendril circling your stomach squeezing until it hurts. “Let me hear you say it.” Aizawa snarls.

You gasp as pain seeps into your pleasure “Yes, please I'll be good.” The pressure against your sides loosens and you're able to breathe again panting softly as the pain begins to fade. Aizawa doesn't say anything, pulling his fingers out of you and bringing them up for a taste. He hums satisfied and then he's moving your body. Positioning you onto your stomach, cold hands lifting your ass as he positions you just how he wants. His tendrils keep your arms together in front of you, stripping you of your PJs and keeping your legs spread just enough to give Aizawa the perfect view of your ass and dripping pussy. A smile, just a bit too wide spills over his lips as he settles himself between your legs. Aizawa is hard, painfully so but he takes his time sliding a hand over the curve of your asscheeks. Trailing down your back and up to the back of your neck, squeezing gently before trailing back again.

With a hum, he lazily strokes your dripping folds, cooing as you press your ass back into him wiggling a little desperate for him to fill you. A harsh smack rings out as his palm connects with your ass “Patience little mouse.” He snarls leaning down to the opposite cheek and biting down just a little too hard. You cry out, tears pooling in your eyes and you bury your head into the pillow. Mind overcome by a lustful haze, you just want him to fuck you already.

Your wish comes soon enough when you feel something thick prodding at your entrance. You gasp as the tip of Aizawa’s cock penetrates you, gasp turns into a desperate moan as he presses into you little by little. He lets out a deep guttural moan of his own as your warmth encircles him, greedily squeezing his cock. Your warmth is addicting and it doesn’t take too long for Aizawa to start bucking into you. He sets a brutal pace, the appendages holding your waist upkeep you still, nice and steady for him to fuck into while his hands explore your body.

You curse desperate little moans and obscenities leaving your lips as he fucks into you. His cock stretches you to your limits, almost painful as the creature fucks into you desperately. There's a shift, and you feel his hands come up to your middle, pulling you up against his chest as he fucks you. You feel his face nuzzle against your cheek as one of his hands coming to rest against your belly as he fucks you. You hands are suddenly free and you reach up, feeling your fingers pass through a cool mist, before finding something solid. Soft wisps of something, that wrap around your fingers, rolling over them in waves as you entwine them into what you assume is his hair.

“Such a good girl, you take me so well darling. Letting me fuck into your womb like this.” Aizawa presses his hand against your stomach pushing back on himself as he becomes desperate.

“Wanna see” The words are a desperate whine and you don't even really register when you say them. Aizawa sputters a little pace wavering at your words. His fingers brush against the delicate necklace you wear his necklace, and for a second his mind clears. But you whimper a desperate sound that breaks whatever sliver clarity he'd found and a darkness takes over his features again. His fingers abandon the necklace and trail up to your neck fingers wrapping around it then squeezing.

“What was that you little slut.” He snarls in your ear and you can't help yourself as you cry out

“Please, wanna see you, wanna watch your cock fuck into me.” Your face flushes as you admit this out loud. A growl coming from the man, thing currently fucking your brains out and you can't do anything but tug at his hair and lean into him further as he uses you. Aizawa stills a little, and you whine desperately doing your best to bounce on his cock as he stops moving. Suddenly you can see again and he's fucking into you, go to say something but you see it, a black wispy tentacle like thing appears in front of your face. Aizawa’s hand that was wrapped snugly around your neck comes up to squeeze your cheeks and the appendage gives you a cheeky little wave before filling your mouth.

“Wanna watch yourself get stuffed, fine, we'll use all of your cute little holes. How does that sound little one.” You whine around the tentacle and then he’s picking up his pace. Hand squeezing your throat so he can feel it at his tendril fucks into your neck, you take him so well. This is it the broken part of his brain hisses she's the one. Aizawa shakes his head, the feeling of your fingers in his hair grounding him for a moment and presses your body back into the mattress.

His movements turn erratic as he fucks into your overwhelmingly tight little pussy. Pretty little moans spilling from you as he fucks you and his tentacles play with your clit and throat. You take him so well, respond so beautifully to his touch, you weren't scared and accepted your place quickly. He brings his fingers up to the little nub between your legs, replacing his tendrils and pressing fast little circles against your already abused clit. It doesn't take long after that, your body presses into the mattress, a tentacle fucking your throat, and some creature’s cock kissing at your cervix the thought alone is too much. But you spill over when Aizawa’s teeth sink into your neck, your body spasming as your orgasm bubbles over.

Aizawa grunts from above you, your body going limp as he bites into you fucking you through your orgasm and chasing his own using your spent body for his own pleasure. He spills in you soon after, his mind just a little bit hazy. Ever so gently Aizawa pulls his tendril out of your mouth, drool, and his own slick trailing from your mouth as he does so. He coos as you whimper, pressing a hand over your ass to admire the way your pussy stretched to accommodate him. Humping into you a few more times before he pulls away completely. He debates for a moment letting himself disappear back into the shadows, but he hasn't been this real, this solid in so long.

Your whimpering slices through his thoughts and before he can stop you, you're on your back looking up at him. Instinct makes him retract all of his extra limbs, making himself look half normal minus the wisps of hair that always seem to move on their own. You blink up at him for a moment body sore but satisfied and you bring your arms up to him. Aizawa is unsure, body flickering into shadows but you speak up before he can fully dissipate.

“Stay with me” You manage to croak out, throat a little sore from the abuse you endured. You weren’t scared of him, if anything he was handsome and he'd fucked you till you were satisfied. You see the hint of hesitation in his eyes but you crinkle your nose and tilt your head cutely making grabby hands at him and he can’t help himself.

Aizawa lays down and you curl into him on instinct, his body now warm against yours. Your fingers find their way up to his hair, giggling as the locks lace themselves with your fingers. He brushes some of your hair back and you whine as he touches at your neck. Small bits of blood pooling where he’d sunk his teeth into you. His split tongue peaks out automatically, licking it up and gently lapping at the tender spot on your neck as you whimper.

“I get a little nuts when I'm on my own.” it's an apology, and you don’t think about why you feel safe in his arms, or why you don't question the creature laying with you, why you're not scared. Instead, you hum softly, nuzzling yourself into the crook of his neck as Aizawa lazily runs a steadily cooling hand down your back.

“It's ok, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere.” You hear yourself say and he hums into your hair acknowledging your words. A twisted smile creeping its way onto his lips as his grip tightens around you. The part of Shouta that’s fallen too deep into insanity to come back fully snickers at your words.

As if you had a choice.

Tags:

@bbygirlpastel @thewheezingwyvern

#my hero academia #aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #mha aizawa #shoto aizawa #aizawa smut #Shouta Aizawa x reader smut #monster fucking #Aizawa x reader smut #kat writes

2K notes · View notes

venushasvixens · 3 years

Text

Ch. 11 - Fightin’ Words - Life is but a Dream (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

[A/N] to clarify before I begin, I do NOT hate Faye. There will be a following chapter to explain how we got from point A to point B, since now that I see it, this chapter seems like a stretch. I apologize if the writing is a little shitty, I got too excited when writing it, and I was basically vomiting words onto my screen. Enjoy!

Previous chapter: Ch.10

⛔️ WARNING: this chapter contains implied sexual content, drinking, and strong language

There is a clear difference in kissing. One was for lust, meant to excite and give pleasure to the receiving, as a plus on to tie in all the ingridients for good sex. The other was for love, showing affection and those deep emotional feelings that both parties were in need of.

The lines were blurring.

Wanting this to be a strictly physical relationship, other elements started to incorporate their way into your escapades. And now Spike knows almost everything about you. Eating habits, what makes you laugh, and the type of people you hate. Talking for hours on end, both of life and it’s ridiculous nature, there was no off time between you both. It felt good.

The quiet moment after you left his room for your own, a faltering feeling of sadness and loneliness enters Spike. The urge to grab you and bring you back to his bed for the night was strong. He tried to get you to stay (always subtly), but to no avail. Well aware of your need for space, he always respected your decision.

The crank that was once rusty, was in Spike’s head as his mind ran endlessly of if you liked him or not. It was a thought, a discussion he wanted to put off for so long. The consequences of his doubt were going to hurt, especially when it was going to be that time to go. The reassurance that this was only a fling, a friends with benefits deal, was on its way to be tossed out of the trash chute into space.

“Trust me, Spiegel, I’ve had plenty of time as a child to know what I’m talking about.” You said as Spike passed you his cigarette.

“About what?” He asked, completely clueless.

“Rocks. Crystals, geodes. Have you not been listening?” You scolded, scoffing as Spike shook his head.

“The library in the city gave the orphanage books they didn't want anymore. My favorite book was the one about rocks on Mars, of course it was simplified for my small brain…”

Head in his hand, Spike listened as you rambled mindlessly of all the different rock formations on Mars. As much as he wanted to learn, he couldn’t help but be distracted by his acknowledgment of your presence. More specifically, the air you brought in the room. Spike began to think of it as his favorite perfume, sweet and sultry, with a hint of spice. It made him feel safe.

You were so attractive when you were educating him. He hated to hear it from Jet or anyone else, but you made it interesting.

“You’re pretty hot.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah thanks. Anyways, like I was saying…”You replied, flattered by his sudden proclamation.

“I’m serious. You’re talking all smart to me, and I can’t help but tell you that.” Spike smirked. “I think I learned more from you than in high school.”

You laughed softly. “I tell you because I know you’re dumber than a bag of hammers.”

“Is that so?” Spike raised his eyebrows. Why was your teasing making him feel even better? “You’re going to regret saying that.”

“I only have one, and not that.” You smiled slyly, the glint in Spike’s eye becoming more noticeable.

“I’m about to make it two.”

“I would love to see you try.”

You put your hands up to defend yourself, Spike’s smooth moves rendering you helpless. In a second, he had your arms pinned down by your sides, a deep throated chuckle emitting from him as he watched you struggle. There was no danger but that of falling to his charm and whim.

“I don’t regret this.” You panted.

“Sounds like the best decision I’ve made.” Spike mumbled, gaze traveling all over your face. He brushes the stray hairs from your face, fingers tracing your hairline and ears. He was so close, you could feel his breath on your neck, threatening to brush his lips on yours.

“Can I ask you something?” Spike broke the silence. You nodded eagerly.

“I-“ He began, cut off by the loud knocking on the door.

“Spike? Spike? Are you there?” Jet called out.

There is no answer, except you panicking over whether Jet sees you naked or sprawled out on Spike’s bed. The only sound that could’ve been heard was the thuds of you scrambling around the room, looking for your bra and panties. Spike watches in amusement, not caring at all at the dilemma you both were in.

“Yeah?” Spike called out, the clink of his lighter going off.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to come up to the bridge for a drink, got a few good bottles of gin from our last bounty.”

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Good.” Jet finished. Footsteps drew further away down the hallway and supposdely onto the stairs. You sighed in relief, getting dressed at a leisurely pace. Safe, once again.

“Y/n, you can come too if you would like.” The loud booming laughter of Jet filled the hallway, masking your dread.

This evening was going to be delightful.

“Where's the gin?” You said in confidence, like you weren’t just caught in Spike’s room. Hopefully he wouldn’t see the slight limp in your step either.

“I have it, but I knew it would be a good bait to get some help up here.” He replied.

“Then I want at least half the bottle as a down payment. And an apology.” You scowled, taking a peek on the holo computer, skimming over the briefing for the next bounty.

Jet chuckled. “Now young lady, I have something very important to ask you.”

“Huh, you and Spike. I’m not too scared of yours.” You glanced at him, sitting in his seat.

Jet rested himself against the table, nodding. “I was going to say that us boys and Ed really enjoy you here. These last few months have been the best one this ship has seen in a while, and you are welcome to stay however long you want, kid.”

You knew you were doing well, but now you caught the bag. Jackpot. “You’re just saying that because I feed you all.”

“That's part of it too.” Jet grinned. “But I’m serious, (y/n). I think all of us could vote in favor of a new crew member. What do you say?”

Thinking, you remembered your freedom, sought as a child. That’s all you ever wanted, was to be out and allowed to do whatever you could. But deep down, the thing you really needed was a home. A family.

You could find that here on the Bebop. Even if you got a rocky start, it was smooth sailing for now. You felt wanted. That’s what you needed.

“Doesn’t sound too bad. I’m down.” You beamed.

“Glad you agreed, or else it would’ve been real awkward if you said no.” Jet replied, giving you a soft pat on your back.

“Mmm, would you kick me out if I declined this most generous offer?” You teased.

“Kid, you have my respect, I would let you pack first then throw you out.”

You cracked up, the deal was done. As you sat in your new home, you couldn't help but feel eternally grateful. “I really owe you one, Jet. You really got me out of a tight spot.”

Jet nodded as he searched for something on the control board.

“Was..was that how Spike came around? Picked him up like a stray?” You asked, surprised at your brazen question.

Jet stops messing with the controls, paused as he tries to peace his words together. “To be honest, I can’t even remember when or how Spike joined me here. He just popped up one day, and I haven’t been able to shake him off.” Jet gave a small titter. “Ah, (y/n). The man’s been through it tough.”

“Can I ask?” You said meekly.

“All that time spent together, and he hasn’t told you?” Jet chaffed, a smirk starting to grow.

Shit. “We haven’t spent much time talking today.” Fuck it, no use in denying it now.

“That’s what I thought.” He snickered. “Well, let me put it this way. A heartbroken man is a lonely one. He roams the galaxy in search of finding a way to fill the void left in him, either desperate to find something new. Or leave the void empty, allowing himself to wither away peacefully.”

“Hmm.” You replied shortly. A lot wasn't said, but it made sense.

“I’m only saying this once, (Y/n). He’s changing, and for the better. I haven’t seen him smile so much sober. I have to thank you for that.”

You made a change, as small as it was. You hear footsteps approaching the bridge, the sliding door opening to reveal Spike. As he quietly passes you by, he shoots you a small wink, making you blush. Spike sits down with a sigh, his legs propped up on the control panel.

“Easy, I’m still working there.” Jet warns as he hands Spike a drink.

“Then how come you're not sitting here?” He smirks, side-eyeing you to watch him kick up dirt.

You smile back, letting their conversation fade away slowly. This moment, you had to screenshot it. It doesn’t look like a normal family, but it wasn't dysfunctional. You had a crazy red haired computer genius as a sibling, along with a dog that you think could do math better than you. It topped nicely with a protective mentor and teacher with one robotic arm, and a man who you didn't think you could even get near without getting your arm bitten off.

Someone was missing. She hasn’t been seen all day, but that’s typical. As an official member of the Bebop, there was no back burner now. You could turn off your predatory instinct on your prey. The hunt on Faye was over. You didn't have to be her best friend, just tolerate her attitude enough when she decides to stay on the ship for longer than a day. You really didn't want to fight her, but sometimes she made it so difficult. Besides, you were too tired anyways.

The little get together was carrying on joyfully, now joined by Ed and Ein. Ed wandered aimlessly in all directions on the bridge, babbling on about all the buttons and flashing lights. You sat next to Spike in your own chair, feeling the small soft padded pushes of Ein on your legs.

“What is it boy?” You asked sweetly, reaching down to rub the top of his ears. He jumps on his hind legs, trying his best to climb up onto your lap. You cooed at him, picking him up and placing him snuggly on your thighs. You swore you could’ve seen him smile as your pet his fluffy face, massaging his soft head.

Spike leaned over, whispering. “Do you think I can get a massage too?”

Before you could respond, Ein gave a small huff, one eye opening to watch out for his competition. “I’m sorry, but the baby said no.”

Jet laughed as Spike smiled. You looked down to see that Spike’s glass was still full, while Jets was drained of all gin. You were working on yours at a slower pace. “You don’t feel like drinking tonight?”

“Hmm?” Spike looked down at his drink, sloshing it against its glass walls. “ Oh, I’ll get to it.” He said before reaching out and touching your back gently, his fingers tracing circles on your spine.

What a win-win situation, Ein gets to be loved on and you get to be petted, you thought. Goosebumps rose on your arms as Spike continued. The sky turned to night, all the stars in the galaxy could be seen from the bridge’s giant front window. Ed was curled up in a ball in front of it, tuckering herself out. Ein provided some warmth to Ed, loafing on Ed’s stomach. Their snores mixed in together, obnoxiously loud, but incredibly cute.

Spike never got to his drink, so he offered it to you instead. Two was all you needed to finish off the night. You took over Ein’s spot on Spike’s lap, your arms wrapped around his neck as you conversated with the boys. His hands rubbed the side part of your stomach before interlocking, his heated palms providing comfort. You wouldn’t mind falling asleep here.

The flash of Faye’s Redtail blinded you as she clumsily parked out on the flight deck. You didn't care as long as she didnt destroy the hangar, then you all would be in huge trouble.

“She’s home early.” Jet stated, watching as she stumbled out of the ship.

“It’s not even midnight yet. Think she missed us?” Spike called out sarcastically.

“Doubt it.”

This was the last of peaceful silence for the night, you thought. You were hoping not to jinx it.

BAM!

Everybody around you whipped their heads to the source of the sound, except yours, because you knew exactly who it was and what was going to happen. Ein used Ed’s stomach as a launching pad, frightened at the loud noise. What could you say, you have a knack for sensing a challenge. The only thing was, you were not in a mood to seek it. It was brought to you, sucking all good energy out of the room and switching it to a fireball of jealousy.

In walked a staggering Faye, pleased with her grand entrance. She tipped to one side, before switching to the other slightly. Just one look was all it took before you gulped the rest of your drink down, flipping the glass on its head. You could see out of the corner of your eye Spike’s focus was on you. His brows furrowed, head tilting as if to ask what were you doing. Your reply was a swift head rub, his hair swooshing.

“Evening, Faye.” Jet chimed, pushing the bottle of gin closer to his side behind him on his control board. There was no way she was getting any more tonight.

Your gaze changed to Jet, who you thought could also sense the new air in the bridge. He sat at the edge of his seat, arm resting on his knee. What was he waiting for?

A small hiccup bounced off the metal walls, prompting Faye to trip and catch herself on the main control board in the middle of the room. Her eyes closed, she began to shake her head side to side, a small manic giggle escaping her mouth.

“You just-just can’t keep your fucking hands off of him, can’t you?”

You felt a shiver of shock rest on your shoulders as you turned your head to face Faye. Before you could speak, Spike opened his mouth to defend you.

“The hell is wrong with you?” Spike retorted, his hands now pressed firmly on your waist.

“Everything was just fine without her, you-“ Faye snarled as she pointed to Jet, “just had to have a heart.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that.” Jet replied cautiously.

Faye circled around the control table, using it as support or else she tumbled over. A mumbled slur of insults, consisting of calling you a slut and Spike an idiot. She was drunk, you thought. Let it run off like water. She will be fine once she’s in her bed, snoring her way into a killer hangover. You couldn’t shake that feeling that you needed to start gearing up. You wiggled out of Spike’s hold, planting your feet firmly down as you lean on the control table.

“I..I honestly don’t get it.” Faye said aloud.

“Get what, Faye?” You piped up, the slightest shake in your voice.

Oh! So it can talk!” She cackled out loud. “Let me tell you what, since you asked!”

“Please, I would love to know.”

Her pointer finger shoved right in your face, furiously wanting to make contact. “I-I find it hard to believe that you managed to get him to fuck you.”

“Jesus, Faye, in front of the kids?”

“Fuck that! She’s going to hear what I have to say, whether the slut likes it or not.”

As angry as you should’ve been, coolness was all you displayed. The voice in the back of your head reminded you of unforgettable advice you knew all too well. Alcohol could be a very good truth serum.

“What a f-fucking slut … you know how I think y-you managed to stay on this tin can of a ship?” She muttered. “You have to be f-fucking the captain.”

“That’s enough! Leave until you sober up.” Jet stood up, standing in the space between you and Faye. “Not having any of that on my ship.”

You looked at Spike, face frozen in a silent menacing fury. Leaning back on the console, you kept glancing to see Faye moving further and further away towards the door. That was it, the show's over. But someone had some kind parting words.

“Hey, how about this! I bet Spike has to cover your face while fucking your ugly ass, I would too, you stupid-“

Your knuckles had never stung so bad, but it felt so good to watch Faye’s head swing back. A flurry of raged-filled punches landed on either side of her face, so fast it didnt give her enough time to react. Waking up, Faye gave a heavy footed kick to your side, prompting you to scream out in pain.

Each swing of her high leg swings missed as you ducked, giving you a chance for an uppercut into her stomach. You could hear the sound of the wind knocking out of her with each punch. Faye’s hand pulled your hair back roughly, fists meeting across your face, swiping your nose. Intense pressure built up, the threat of blood leaking out of your nose becoming evident. She wanted to play dirty?

We can play dirty.

You used everything you had in you. Scratching, biting, kicking. You were not going to lose. You did not give two shits if she was vulnerable, this bitch was going down. It felt like forever until you felt the strong arms of Spike yanking you away from the fighting ground.

“Hey, hey, hey!” You heard Jet roar, becoming a flesh and metal cage around Faye’s upper arms, taking a small beating as she tried to claw her way back to you. Ed was yelping and screaming at the top of her lungs, while Ein barked and yowled at the commotion.

“Stop, (y/n), its me you’re hitting, damn it!” Spike yelped as you gave the last swings, realizing that the fight was just about over. You panted, the painful injection of adrenaline overcame your body. You watched on in pity as Jet tried to get Faye to calm down. As you trudged back to your seat, with the help of Spike, the last word was finally given out of the door.

“Get comfy bitch, I’m going nowhere!” You screamed.

“And I know who burned your ship, but there’s no way I’m telling you, you dumb cunt!”

Other insults flew in your direction, but were ignored. You stood in disbelief as you let the major bombshell play over and over. Feeling the soft tug of Spike pulling you back gently down to your seat, letting you wallow for a second. He knelt in front of you, examining your growing black eye and red welts on your face. “Damn, that's going to leave a mark.”

You looked away from him, tears welling in your eyes.

“Oh (y/n), I didn't mean it like that, it doesn’t look that bad.” Spike apologized as you sniffled.

“It’s not that. I-its that..'' sobs so quietly, but causes the greatest quivering, “she knows who did this to me, and won't even fess up because she hates me. What kind of shit is that?”

Tears fell freely onto your lap, pain induced by your loss fueling more hurt. It was so cold by yourself, a shell encasing you in. Through the mists of your tears, the shell was just Spike’s chest moving closer in. The heat of his body provided consolation without words, the tightness and slight rocking bringing you down to a clearer, more relaxed consciousness.

“I’ll catch them for you.” Spike mumbled into your ear, his hands massaging the back of your head. “It won't bring anything back, but if that will make you feel better, I'll do it.”

This wasn’t an empty promise. There was sincerity behind Spike’s words, wanting to help you. It was now confirmed just how much you meant to him. He was willing to assist for payback. His offer was sweet, but it didn't feel right. This wasnt his struggle, it was yours.

You were going to catch them, and only God knew the hell you were going to bring.

#fanfiction #cowboy bebop #faye valentine #90s anime #jet black #spike spiegel requests #spike spiegel x reader #spike spiegel #radio free mars #cowboy bebop x reader #see you space cowboy #youre going to carry that weight #cowboy bebop fanfiction

83 notes · View notes

dovenymph · 3 years

Text

a film by peter parker

authors note: this was inspired by another thinkerpete tweet that read "peter probably watches the bit from "a film by peter parker" where he's in the car with tony over and over when he misses him" and@peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology’s summer of love prompt list💛💛 also the video edit was made by me so please do not screen record/save and repost it even if you do credit me (also this is unedited so sorry for any typos, i’ll probably go through it sometime this week, i just wanted to post it first)

prompts used: 2. making the backyard/rooftop into a movie theater

my masterlist

warnings: mentions of tony’s death, other than that, nothing but fluff

word count: 3.9k

Peter hated the summer.

Peter hated not having anything to busy himself with; no homework, or academic decathlon, or seeing Ned everyday who could wrap him up in his graphic novel fan theories or the drama in his on and off relationship with Betty. It was petty drama and minor stimulation, but it was something to distract him momentarily. But now Ned was in Aruba with his parents for the entire month which meant Peter had to suffer through the scorching heat of Juy all by himself.

Peter knew he didn’t have to be alone each day, -Aunt May had spent many dinners trying to get him to join her at the movies or the mall, even offering to let him have free reign of the lego store (when he said no to that, she knew he was in worse shape than she thought)- he had a handful of trustworthy and dependable friends he could hang out with for the afternoon like MJ and Betty, or even Flash who had been uncharacteristically nice to Peter ever since he found out he was Spiderman; this having happened only a few weeks after Tony had died and Peter had let him in on his secret to console a sobbing Eugene who, honestly, seemed to be more broken up about the news than Peter was. But even with his expanding friend group, Peter had found the most his body could endure was the contents of his bedroom.

He tried to get back out there after Tony’s passing, he really did, but at the first Iron Man tribute he admired on patrol, his body completely shut down and he swung back home, tears dampening the material of the mask.

So a lonely summer was what Peter submitted himself too, and he’s come to terms with it. He’s rewatched his favorite old shows, started binging some new ones. He’s taken apart and put together his lego death star four times now, each time faster than the last. But he’s been particularly fond of staring out the window. His apartment complex was quite close to the building besides his and he could look down into the backyard everyone had to share. Peter’s building had one as well, but since he was pretty sure he was the only person under 35 who lived there, it went unused.

Next door, there was always a different activity occurring in order for the patrons to beat the heat, and Peter often thought about how easy it would be for him to just go downstairs and introduce himself, and ask to join. It’d really be as simple as that and he’d meet some new people, get a free lunch and a chance to swim in the plastic pool they set up; maybe they’d laugh at his jokes and clap when he did flips, but it was all just a maybe, just in his imagination because his brain never let him wander to far before squandering the idea of getting close to someone again, for if history has taught Peter anything, it's that anything he gets close to, is not meant to stay for long and will be soon snatched away from him in the cruelest of ways.

And this thought is what resigns him to slink back behind his window and pout the day away, as he was doing now, vision blurring as he stared at nothing.

“Hey!”

Peter jumped, his eyes focusing on the target of whoever pelted his window and they landed on your form, slumped against your open windowsill, chin resting on your hand as you gazed back at him.

“Can I help you?” Peter bit back after lifting his window half way, his tone unconsciously laced with annoyance. He really didn’t even notice it anymore since that’s how he’s been speaking to everyone in his life for months now, but when you flinched at his tone, guilt started to creep up his spine.

Before he could ever begin to stumble out an apology, you cut him off “Yeah, is there a reason you stare into my room everyday?”

Peter's face flushed red and he opened and closed his mouth like a fish. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had spoken so bluntly towards him, and honestly, he liked it. He was getting tired of everyone walking on tiptoes around him, he just wanted things to go back to how they were, where he was just Peter Parker, your friendly neighborhood student.

“Or could you at least give me some money for some curtains if you just can’t give up the beautiful view of a concrete wall?”

“S-sorry, I- I didn’t even know you were there.”

Lie.

Peter knew you were there, he always knew when you were there.

Peter Parker isn’t a stalker, though! Sure, he’s gone through some fucked up shit on Earth and in space, so yeah, he wouldn’t call himself the most …sane person he knows, but he really wasn’t a creep. With your buildings being so close and your rooms directly across from one anothers, he was bound to notice you at some point.

And at some point he did. It was the first day of summer and Midtown let out at 12 instead of 3 to mark the occasion, so Peter had been mulling about in his room for quite some time already, thinking about how he heard all his classmates amazing summer plans and how the farthest he was going to go was probably the Thai restaurant down the street, and even that was a maybe. Peter sulked in silence until a couple hours later he heard a door slam closed, thumps from things being tossed on the ground, and a loud groan as he peeked through his windowsill at you who was currently flopped on the bed, window wide open without a care, scrolling on your phone.

At first, he was taken aback by your beauty, a small, small feeling of intrigue spiked his system, but it flew under the radar due to the seemingly everlasting dread that’s been weighing down on Peter's shoulders for months. But he couldn’t look away. You’d been doing nothing but looking at tiktoks mindlessly, occasionally cracking a half smile if a video was particularly amusing, but you still remained cemented to your mattress with no plans on moving anytime soon.

This brought comfort to Peter as he fished his phone out from the bottom of his bag and pulled up Ned’s messages and started to look through the media he sent him, almost two months worth of funny memes and videos that he hadn’t been bothered to look at, and he sat there along with you, aimlessly letting the time pass by. He enjoyed it, knowing he wasn’t really alone in his lazy and distracting behaviors because the pretty neighbor girl was doing just the same.

Ever since then, he’s just been …aware… of your coming and goings. He figured you had a summer job as every other day you were gone for a few hours, a solid shift. But on the days you were home, you also spent it mainly up in your room, every now and then, playing music from your record player, and if he was really lucky, you’d, unknowingly, give him a private concert as you sung out whichever niall horan or ariana grande song struck your fancy that day. He grew quite fond of the music, having added some of the regulars to his own playlist. And he enjoyed knowing you were right there, and he was right here; each of you living your lives, as uneventful as they may be, but you were together in some sort of way.

He’d never spoken to you, the ability of being able to just push his window up and call out to you at any time was what he liked, and each day he thought he’d do it but chickened out, and now it seemed like he’d have to make introductions whether he was ready or not.

“Mmm, right, so you haven’t seen me change or anything like that?” You asked and the content of your question and the inquisitive tone brought a flush to his cheeks.

“N-no! Of course not! I-I’d never do that, why would I even want to look at you? I mean! I don’t think you’re ugly or anything I… I just…”

Peter’s ramblings were cut off with your laugh as it bounced off the summer air and into his room. You were fully leaning out your open window now, and Peter had found himself in the same position, as if he was drawn to you.

“I was only joking with ya, but it's still nice to have the confirmation. I’m Y/N, your neighbor! Obviously.” You trailed off at the end, knowing that information was unnecessary since the boy next door obviously already knew that.

He was like no boy you’d ever seen before, only read about in books. He had a sweet disposition and inviting brown eyes that matched his soft chestnut hair. But he was built like a man, a strong jaw and strong arms. You’d seen him leaving his building everyday on your way to school, and when he’d get dropped off in a big black SUV during the late hours of the night, but he walked in the opposite direction or darted inside so fast,you never really got a chance to take him in.

“…Peter?” His tentative tone snapped you out of your daze and you realized he was introducing himself.

“Sorry, Peter! I- I… got distracted… by your… death star!” You let out, eyes focusing on the black and grey figure resting on his bed.

Peter felt his cheeks heat up as he moved to push it to the ground.

“That’s pretty cool! I finished the star wars series last summer.”

Peter’s eyes snapped up to yours and the friendly smile you were giving him along with the genuine interest in your tone seemed to break something inside him, snapped the band of hesitation that wrapped around his heart. “You did? For the first time?”

“Yeah! I know I’m like super late, but there’s like nine movies!”

Your laughs melded into one as you leaned out your respective windows and began talking about your favorite movie series. Peter was aware that this was unnatural for him. He had been more open to this stranger in the past few minutes than he had to his own Aunt in months and the same guilt from earlier crept up on him. But Peter was having a good time talking to you and he felt his insides turn in excitement when he realized you really had no idea who he was. He had a clean slate with you and he could make any first impression he wanted, well he hoped your first impression of him wasn’t that he was a peeping pervert, but we move, as MJ would say.

You were about to start telling Peter about this new dystopian novel you began reading when you heard a woman call out to him.

“Oh, that’s my Aunt May. She must be home from work. I- I should go say hello.” He explained, a sad look crossing his face that you didn’t quite understand.

You felt your own sadness wash over you, though. You didn’t want to stop talking to Peter either. “Yeah, of course!”

“But we can talk tomorrow right?” Peter asked, his tone laced with uncertainty.

“Oh well, I work double tomorrow… so I probably won’t be home ‘til late.” You said and the way the brown haired boys face visibly fell felt like a punch in the gut and you were scrambling for a reason to make him smile.

“B-but hey! I also get paid tomorrow so if you want, you can come over on saturday and we can have a movie night and we can order a shit ton of take out?”

“Come over to your place?” Peter asked, and he felt himsef involuntarily tense at the idea of leaving his room for the first time in weeks. It was safe in his room. But the pleading look on your face and hopefulness in your tone encouraged him to take the chance.

“I’d love to y/n.” Peter said with a soft smile and you smiled back shyly at him before closing your window and making your way out your room, making sure you were safe in the hall, away from his prying eyes to do a little happy dance.

Peter was unable to wipe the grin off his face as he walked out his room to greet his Aunt.

She heard his feet padding down the hall as she was setting out dinner, “Sorry its not ready yet, Petey, today’s been crazy, but I’ll get started now.” She rushed. Recently, she’s been hoping food’s the key to lift her poor nephews spirits, so each night she’ll either order or make something more fattening, cheesy, and delicious than the last.

“It’s alright May,” Peter let out easily as he turned the counter and placed a kiss on her cheek, “why don’t you let me cook tonight?”

May’s jaw dropped and she blinked a couple times. She could barely get two words out of Peter recently, and they were always either a meak thank you for dinner or an it was good when she asked about his day. She felt her eyes tear up at the slight sliver of her old Petey back.

“O-oh, really, you wanna cook?”

Peter ducked his head down at the ingredients in front of him to avoid looking in her eyes, his heart dropping at the glossiness that overtook them. He truly hadn’t realized how closed off he’d been. “Well, how about we do it together?” He began and the face splitting grin that spread across May’s face was all he needed to know he was taking a step in the right direction.

“G-good idea, honey. Can’t have the house burn down, can we?”

“Hey!”

May laughed and kissed Peter’s head as they began winding through the kitchen, making casual conversation. It was just like the old days, May thought. Before the wave of devastation drowned Peter as he lost a father figure, once again.

“So what did you do today, P? Do you know when Ned get’s back? I’m sure you’re both excited to see each other.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, I am. I don’t know when he get’s back actually, but that’s okay-“

“I know you like your peace and quiet, I really do, but I do think it’ll be good for you to get out of the apartment for a little bit, see if Michelle is available. Oh! Or maybe that Lisa, Liz! I liked Liz, see if she’s available-“

“May! Its okay. I don’t need to hang out with Liz Allen,” Peter grumbled, “I- I made a new friend actually.”

May looked over at Peter in confusion since he hadn’t gone out or had anyone over in weeks, that she could remember; and Peter took her silence as an opportunity to continue.

“The neighbor.”

“Mrs. Wozniak?”

“No! Y/n, she lives in the next building over. And my room is right across from hers. We’re gonna hang out on saturday.”

“Oh?” May raised her brows at her nephew and bit back a smile, much to Peter’s chagrin. “Is she pretty?”

“And that’s relevant why?”

“I don’t know!!” May drawled and Peter just rolled his eyes and kept chopping the vegetables in front of him, the blush adorning his cheeks refusing to go down as he thought yes, yes she is.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

You yanked the door open as soon as you heard Peter’s knocks against it. He jumped back a bit, his arm still partially raised from when he knocked and you silently berated yourself for being so eager, but the spreading smile across his face made you feel not so bad.

“Oh, sorry, I was just-“

“It’s alright.” Peter replied with a soft smile, and you let yourself trace the golden flecks in his eyes before he cleared his throat, once again, snapping you out of a daze. You seemed to be in a dreamy state around him alot.

“Can I come in? I brought my Star Wars DVD collection by the way, I know you’ve seen them, but this one has the director's cut which I thought totally changed the course of the first trilogy!” Peter explained, rocking on the balls of his feet in excitement.

You bit your lip at the sight, his cuteness was rubbing off on you. “Yeah, that sounds great, but actually we aren’t gonna be watching in here.” You said, grabbing the bag of Chinese food and snacks and stepping out.

Peter’s face sputtered as you both walked to the stairs. He’d spent all day building up his courage to just go six feet from his building, there was no way he’d be able to go around the city with you for the fear of seeing something that’ll remind him of the avengers or crime.

“Y’alright?” You asked, noticing Peter’s stony silence as you walked down the last flight and made your way to the back gate.

“Yeah, sorry, I guess I’m just nervous. I haven’t really hung out with anyone new in a while, well, with anyone at all really.”

You smiled in sympathy, “I get you, I haven’t either. All my friends are out of town, so I’ve mostly just hung out in my room, too.”

“But you already knew that, don’t ya stalker?”

Peter rolled his eyes and shoved your arm as you laughed, glad you got his nerves out of his system. You unlocked the gate and lef Peter to the back garden.

“Woah..” Peter let out. There was a large white sheet hung up between two trees, and a projector set up on the table behind where a blanket lay, covered in a mess of pillows. The setting sun lit up by strung lightbulbs.

“You like? I figured since we both seemed to be home bodies, we could have the fun of the movie theatre, but here!”

Peter felt his heart swell at your words. You’d only known him for two days, and you already treated him with so much consideration and kindness. “I- I love it, y/n. This is amazing.”

He saw how you tucked your cheek into your shoulder in bashfulness and felt his spirits raise even higher. You were adorable.

“I’m glad you like it. I hope the projector works though, it took me forever to translate the instructions.”

Peter walked over to it and gave it a once over. “It seems fine to me, but I can always look at it if you want.”

“Oh yeah? You good with tech?”

“Good enough to get by. I needed it a lot while working with Mr. Stark” Peter began, forgetting that he wasn’t talking to an old friend.

“You worked with Tony Stark?!?”

“Oh.. oh yeah, only for a little! I was an intern.” He said quietly, beating himself up for even bringing up the topic of Tony. The last thing he wanted to do was cry in front of a pretty girl.

“Wow, that must’ve been amazing. You, you must miss him a lot then, huh?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled lifelessly. “Yeah I do.”

“But no matter, we’re here to have a good time right?”

“Yeah, yeah we are!” You grasped his hand and gave him a sympathetic squeeze -neither of you blind to the sparks that shot from the place your hands met- and got settled on the blanket.

Two and a half moves later, the sun had set and the two of you were sitting in the darkness, the only light coming from the flickering of the projector as the abandoned movie played. You and Peter were sitting cross legged, facing each other as he told you another story about working with the Avengers.

“Yeah, it was so crazy!! We were in this airport and he went from being like two inches tall to two hundred feet, it blew my mind. But it was okay though, because I had this idea-“

“Wait, wait, wait. You were there? Why?” You asked, loving every adventure filled anecdote he told you, but it wasn’t all adding up. For just an intern, he seemed incredibly close to Mr. Stark himself, but then again, you’d only known him for less than a week and you also wanted to go everywhere with him.

Peter worried his lip, thinking about how he could worm his way out of this one. Why would a teenage intern be at the Avengers civil war? He figured he could lie, or even just run away and buy black out curtains. Maybe he could convince Aunt May to switch rooms with him even. But you’d already brought so much light to his life in multiple aspects, and he thought, just maybe, you’d be able to bring light to that aspect of his life too.

“You know what, lemme just show you! Wait here, I’ll be back!”

Peter ran back down, his Chewbacca flash drive in hand, adrenaline running through his veins. He plugged it into your laptop and dug up a folder he hadn’t touched in almost eight months.

“What’s this?” You asked as he sat back down next to you.

“You’ll see.” He said, eyes glued to the screen in front of him.

A Film by Peter Parker, read the title as a compilation of videos featuring Peter, Happy, Aunt May, the Avengers, and Tony projected before you both.

Peter heard you gasp as the camera flashed to the suit, and saw, from the corner of his eye, how your head snapped towards his as he backspringed across the battleground. The film continued and neither of you could tear your eyes from the screen. Peter felt his eyes well up with tears as a scene with him and Tony talking to the camera began and he thought that watching this was a bad idea and he was about to turn around and turn it off when he felt your fingers intertwine with his.

He sucked in a sharp breath at the warmth you brought him and he squeezed back, his brain nearly malfunctioning at the speed in which he tried to memorize the feel of your hand in his. But his senses were overloaded as he picked up on your accelerated heartbeat.

The two of you continued to watch the video, neither moving even when it autostarted from the beginning, and this time you laughed outwardly at the funny parts, and asked him questions about why Happy didn’t seem to like him.

“What did you do to him Peter?”

“Nothing I swear!”

“Likely story.”

And he felt the steel blanket of grief fall off his shoulders. The feeling of intrigue and excitement for going back to life was no longer a small trail buried deep within him, but now a firecracker that ignited his insides and aurated off of him. Things were going to be alright, he was going to make it out this summer with more than just the memories from his bedroom, and he’d make it through whatever else life would throw at him, as long as he had you by his side.

Because you didn’t make his heart beat faster out of fear, you made him feel flustered and full of affection.

And you didn’t hold him roughly, with the intent to harm him; you held him delicately, and he could only wait to be able to hold your heart the same way.

55 notes · View notes

invincibleinck · 3 years

Text

Rose Thorns

More Beclawed!Rinzler. Fic below the break. AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31470140

Rinzler dragged himself to shore, waterlogged and shivering. He slumped into the sand, left hand twitching, claws plunging through the grains. For a while he just laid in the surf, wheezing on water and on the verge of shut down mode. His helmet split open and he gasped his first free breath in cycles.

When he'd finally mustered the strength to lift his head, he saw the portal looming above him, half floating in the gloom. It was dimmed, indicating that the gateway was closed. He could only hope that the other User had made it out beforehand.

It was too late for the older Flynn.

With a great, trembling effort, he heaved himself to his feet, his one hand leaving deep gashes in the ground. He looked at the shape in the pixels, then at the hand that'd caused it, and finally, at the deadened portal. Though the surrounding Grid had been decimated by the explosion, the island itself remained relatively intact. Flawed, somehow, but intact. Like someone had clumsily copied it, atomized it, and then reassembled everything from the pieces.

It struck him that this was a monument to a bygone era. Never again would Users grace the Grid with their presence. Or, at least, not in the same way. Certainly not Flynn. He'd felt the force of Reintegration beneath the waves, had known in an instant that his friend was gone.

How fitting that he'd end up here, too late to help him.

...

Cycles passed without incident. Rinzler settled near the portal, camping in caves and ranging the island during the day-cycle. He nursed his wounds and suckled energy in quiet corners. It was a monotonous, lonely existence.

Still, there were worse locations to land.

The islet had a little spring of energy and plenty of places to shelter. It was a pretty place, with sweeping structures, graceful arches, and shimmering walkways. There were flying buttresses, twisting colonnades, and hollow, hexagonal facades, all lined with light. Best of all, it was isolated from the rest of the Grid, ideal for avoiding his fellow programs.

The only downside was the memories.

It was a problem with which Rinzler frequently grappled. The portal was both his sanctuary and his hell. Every light line evoked Flynn's voice, whether that be witty remarks or sincere farewells. He was plagued by memories that were not entirely his. It felt like it'd all happened to some other person, like his life was divided into two halves—pre-rectification and post-rectification, Tron and Rinzler.

But which half was he in now? Who was he now?

More often than not, he found himself in the shadow of a crumbling edifice, cradling his claws in contemplation.

Perhaps it was for the best that Flynn couldn't see him now. Not like this.

...

A beam of blinding light broke his solitude.

In defiance of all expectations, the portal was lit once more. He'd been huddling in an antre at the time, but upon seeing it, he scrambled to the top shelf of the alcove.

Two figures emerged from its rays. Usually Flynn rezzed at the Arcade entrance in the city, but not these two. They must've found him from the Outside, then reprogrammed the portal to send them here, where he was closest.

He recognized them immediately.

"I'm Quorra, and this is Sam," said the first figure.

"We've met," Sam-Flynn said tersely.

Guarding his expression, Tron regarded the two visitants. Sam still bore his father's face and still carried the wounds from their last encounter. Tron's eyes traced the deep nicks along his cheek and jaw, like a mirror to the scars on Tron's left. An uncomfortable guilt began to claw at his insides.

The woman, on the other hand, was more puzzling. He'd seen her once before, but she was different now. Her shorn hair was a little longer, though no less uneven. Her light lines seemed brighter and her face shone with newfound confidence. There was something else as well, something that Tron couldn't quite classify.

User? ISO? His scans kept sending back conflicting information.

She approached him with an arm stretched out, not to ward him away, but in invitation. The act threw him completely off-kilter. No one ever wanted to touch him, and when they did, it was usually because he'd done something wrong. Touch meant pain.

A horrible growl tore from Rinzler's ruined throat. At the same time, his circuits flashed crimson. His eyes measured the distance between them and he took two steps back to compensate for the loss. The distance made him feel safer, if only slightly.

"Quorra-" Fast as sparks, Sam put a hand on her shoulder. "Let's just go. It's not worth it."

Reluctantly, Quorra rolled back on her heels, and Rinzler's snarls died down. Her eyes softened but Rinzler balked at the sadness inside them. He didn't need anyone's sympathy, nor did he want it.

"Another time, maybe," she ventured, allowing Sam to steer her away.

"Another time," Sam agreed.

Neither one of them turned their backs until they were almost directly under the code stream. Tron watched as each loosened their discs and held them into the beam.

Over her shoulder, Quorra said, "I'm sorry if I startled you-!" The words were only half out of her mouth before she was swept up through the funnel. One nano there was a body, and the next there was nothing. Only light was left behind.

Sam-Flynn also paused just before passing into the portal's light. The relief building in Tron at their departure stuttered in his chest. Unbidden, he felt the hackles rising along his neck. Sam seemed to sense his unease, because his gaze never quite moved above Tron's neck and his heels scuffed against the plateau.

"For the record, that thing I said earlier- it didn't come out right." Eyes flashing, he drew himself up and set his shoulders. In that moment, he'd never looked more like a Flynn. "You are worth it... Maybe not the scratches, though. Those hurt like a bitch."

...

The second time Sam-Flynn and Quorra visited, they brought gifts.

"It's called a rose," said Quorra, extending the flower like it was a peace offering. "They grow in the User world, and Users keep them around because they're pretty.

Tron stood like a statue, flummoxed by this otherworldly bloom. Despite his attempts at aloofness, a prickle of interest coursed through his code. He cocked his head to the side but did not approach. Quorra took the gesture as an invitation and moved boldly forward, heedless to Sam sputtering behind her. Step by step, she closed the expanse between them.

At last, Tron's curiosity got the better of him. He met Quorra halfway and stretched forth his dominant hand. Out of reflex, the claws came out, and he held back for fear of cutting her. He swallowed, counting the nanos until the prongs retracted, hyper-aware of the woman's patient scrutiny.

He gripped the 'rose' by its stem, just under the bud, and balanced it precariously between the pads of two fingers. Somewhere in the background Sam made a noise and Rinzler reacted without thinking. He tore back his hand like it'd been scalded, taking the rose with him. Quorra didn't flinch.

Gently, Tron examined his new prize. He brushed the bulb with an index claw before plucking a single petal, marvelling at its colour. Red, like his old circuits. Red, like the blood shed by Sam-Flynn in that arena.

His finger moved downward, dislodging the petal in the process. It fluttered to the floor as he caressed the spiked stalk. Every movement was met with a bump as his nail travelled over tiny thorns embedded in the stem. Barbs, so much like the talons gracing his left hand. Next to the rose, they almost looked... elegant, more like an adornment than a disfigurement.

So many pretty things in the User World...

Over time his growl softened into a sort of chirring. He cradled the small sprig to his chest, oblivious to the thorns plucking at his circuits or the stares from his guests. Sam's forced verve vanished in the face of a genuine smile, which was mirrored tenfold by his companion.

Quorra spoke softly, "If you'd like, we can come back and bring some more...? Would you like that?"

Rinzler's silence was all the assent she needed.

#Tron #Tron Legacy #Fanfiction #Fanfic #Tronfic #Fan art #Beclawed!Rinzler #Clawed Tronzler

60 notes · View notes

marmosa · 4 years

Note

Can i request a fred x reader where theyre friends and then one day freds like, yeah she’s cute...holy shit i like her. Or something along those lines?? Your writing is the best!

thank you so much for the compliment and for the support! i’m a sucker for the friends to lovers trope so this request got me super excited skhfbskfj. hope you like it, love <3!

word count: 1.4k

***

“You know, for someone who’s the life of the party, you are terrible at showing up on time to parties,” [y/n] scolded Fred, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him down next to her on the couch.

“First off, the life of the party is always fashionably late, it’s written in the rulebook. Secondly, you’ve got to be more careful or I would’ve spilled my drink all over you,” Fred replied, rolling his eyes and elbowing her in the side playfully.

“Rulebook? What rulebook? The rulebook for morons?” she lulled, sticking out her tongue, jerking to the side to avoid another elbow to her side, “Fine! Whatever you say certified party animal, it doesn’t matter you didn’t really miss anything anyway.”

“I know I didn’t, because the party never truly starts until George and I have showed up,” He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows as she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, whatever, that’s only because you haven’t managed to spike the punch yet,” she scoffed, swirling her plastic cup in his face.

“Me? Spike the punch? How dare you accuse me of something so inappropriate! I’m frankly offended you’d think of me so lowly, [y/l/n],” He scoffed in offense, throwing his hand over his head in mock hurt.

“Oh yes, because you are the epitome of rule following, Percy would get a kick out of hearing that,” she snickered, taking a sip of her drink to avoid Fred’s disgruntled look.

“You’ve been fraternizing with the enemy now? I ‘ought to cut you off completely. Honestly woman you’re playing a dangerous game here,” Fred scolded her, shaking his head.

“It bothers you that much? Wonder how you’d take it if I told you he asked me on a date,” she hummed, biting back a smile when Fred’s face fell faster then a quidditch player off their broom.

“You’re bluffing. [y/n] so help me god if you’re serious I will never speak to you again,” He replied flat out, his voice void of any humor.

[y/n] started giggling then broke out into full laughter though it was impossible to tell in the crowded and noisy room. She had to lean over and clutch her stomach as Fred continued staring her down, refusing to back down on his front until he received a clear answer.

“I’m serious [y/n], take it back or I will never speak to you again,” He repeated, his deadpan expression turning into a frown.

“Alright! Alright, goodness, he’s a git not the devil, Fred. But don’t go getting your wand in a twist, he’s hasn’t done anything of the sort,” she chuckled, still heaving from her fit of laughter.

“Good. I’d kill him if he did,” Fred replied simply, standing up and stretching his limbs, “anyway, we’re here to party, care to join me on the dance floor?”

He motioned to the small crowd of people in the center of the common room that had been cleared out for more space, setting down his drink and offering her his hand. She smiled back at him and nodded, taking his hand and quickly setting her drink down as he dragged her behind him to the dance floor.

They started vibing to the music, jumping and swaying to the beat of the music rolling off the record player. No one was sure how they kept coming up with the latest tunes on vinyl, however everyone had dropped any sort of interest in figuring it out in fear of losing their new music privilege's.

“You’re a rubbish dancer,” Fred called over the music, receiving a confused look from [y/n].

He rolled his eyes and grabbed her sleeve pulling her into him and steadying her with a firm hand on her waist, “I said you’re a rubbish dancer, let me show you how it’s done.”

Before [y/n] could get out a defensive remark in she was being spun in a circle by Fred, a surprised yelp leaving her lips before he pulled her back in and continued swaying with her side to side. She couldn’t help but smile at his antics, letting herself indulge in the moment, slinging her arms around his neck as he continued his theatrics, mouthing the words to the song.

They continued like that until [y/n]’s friend weaved her way into the crowd and pulled her away for a moment to talk, leaving Fred to his own devices. He took the opportunity to take a break himself, heading back to the concessions table for a new drink as he knew there was no chance of finding his old one.

He leaned against the entrance to the boys dormitory, scanning the room for anyone familiar, his eyes landing on [y/n] giggling with her friends about something. His heart started to flutter in his chest as he watched her hide her face in her hands as her friends all agreed on something that seemingly embarrassed her.

Wait. Fred stopped staring at her and cast his gaze down to his drink. Why was his heart beating in his chest so fast? He looked back up and saw [y/n] glance over at him with a small smile, passing him a wave before turning back to her friends who were now hotly debating something. He blew air out from between his lips and quickly rushed up to his dormitory to go sit by a window, feeling his face heat up more than he’d like it to in that sweltering hot room.

He dodged a few stragglers on the stairs, his heart still racing as his mind replayed their shared dance, her laughter, her smile, her. He shoved his hands in his pockets before bursting into his room, thanking god it was empty so he could be spared of any embarrassment at his emotional epiphany.

She’s so pretty, he thought to himself, sitting down next to the nearest window and pushing it open, sighing in relief as the cool air rushed over his hot skin. Has she always been this pretty? With a groan his head hit the back of the wall with a thud, his fingers fiddling with the fraying ends of his jeans. She definitely has.

“Well, don’t you look lonely, Mr. life of the party.”

Fred’s head snapped to the side as his heart picked up pace once more, cursing at the most untimely appearance of the last person he needed to see right now, “I’m not lonely, it’s just hotter than hell down there and I need some fresh air.”

“Going to be honest, same here. But you look,” she shrugged, shuffling over and plopping down in front of him, “flustered. What’s up?”

Fred cursed again, wanting to shove his face into the wall and scream, that’s what he gets for catching feelings for one of his best friends, “Nothing’s up. I’m a ginger lest you forget. I could turn red just because the sun blinked at me.”

“Good point,” she hummed, tapping the tips of her shoes against his, “I know you though and I know that’s a pile of rubbish. But I don’t want to ruin your fun so I won’t dig, but I’ll get my answer eventually.”

“Whatever, that’s what you always say,” He rolled his eyes, staring out the window to ignore her drilling stare and raised eyebrow.

“You enjoy the attention, don’t lie,” she stuck out tongue, blowing a raspberry at him.

“You’re a smartass you know that,” he mumbled, bumping her in the shin with his heel.

“Your smartass,” she retorted, not noticing the way Fred’s eyes widened at the implication, “But enough of me pestering you, George was looking for you, said something about a plan and fireworks, didn’t stick around long enough to explain the rest, so you should probably head back downstairs.”

Fred sighed and visibly relaxed, his pranking expertise now rushing to the forefront of his mind as he pushed down his feelings to deal with later, “Will do, but only if you come with me, I don’t think we’ve done enough dancing for one night.”

“Agreed! Onward then,” She cheered, pushing herself up and offering Fred a hand, a cheery grin plastered on her face.

“Can do,” He replied, taking her hand as she pulled him along.

He smiled to himself softly, squeezing her hand gently as she started to ramble on about how she wanted in on whatever he and George were planning, though he was hardly paying attention to the subject matter and more to the lilt in her voice.

He was in for a wild night.

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x [y/n]#[y/n]#mar writes #asks #hogwarts #harry potter

203 notes · View notes

trolleybitch · 3 years

Text

the trolley witch backstory

okay this is long overdue but i thought it was about time that i shared the official trolley witch backstory from this thread. before we start, what we know about the hogwarts express trolley witch from canon: she was hired by ottaline gambol, had been working on the hogwarts express for around 190 years by the time she met albus potter and scorpius malfoy, she had pumpkin pasty grenades and extendable fingernail spikes, and when she failed to stop the boys from escaping the train, she was inconsolable and talked about letting down ottaline gambol.

so, without further ado, her story:

the year is 1802. trolley witch is born into a poor muggle family in rural northern england and her father leaves shortly after she's born. she grows up lonely and isolated, working from a young age to help her mum make ends meet. age 11, she gets her hogwarts letter.

her mother is a bit dubious but lets her go - it's a good opportunity to get rid of the burden of looking after her. she arrives at hogwarts and is sorted into gryffindor, although she doesn't really know what that means. she doesn't make friends easily.

other kids mock her background and upbringing, and her magic skills. she never really learned to read, and with no magical family she's behind on spells and has never been academically inclined. she doesn't ask for help and her teachers don't always notice she needs it.

mid-second year, her mother dies. she doesn't find out for several weeks because who would write to tell her? she spends all her holidays at hogwarts, often alone. the gryffindor common room is all snide comments and judgemental looks so she starts to explore the castle.

in her third year she finds the kitchens. the house-elves are wary of her at first, this strange, solitary girl coming to spy on them, but she becomes fascinated by cooking and after a while they grow to appreciate her interest. they start to teach her.

by fourth year she spends all of her free time in the kitchens, cooking and baking with the elves. homework and lessons get forgotten and she lags even further behind in her schoolwork, but she learns to follow recipes and then to invent her own.

o.w.l.s and n.e.w.t.s come and go and her grades are poor, barely passing half her classes. a few teachers try to offer specialist tutoring and she accepts half-heartedly but her mind is elsewhere - she only wants to cook, to do the thing she does best.

she leaves hogwarts with nowhere to go and no friends to rely on. who would hire the lowly muggleborn girl with no qualifications? she makes her way to london - she's never been but she's heard people say it's the best place to find work.

the city is overwhelming, but she manages to find diagon alley and the wizarding community. one day when she's lurking outside the back entrance to the leaky cauldron, hoping for scraps, an old teacher passes by and recognises her.

the teacher takes pity and asks if there's anything they can do. trolley witch tells her the only thing she can do is cook. the teacher's sister works at the ministry and she knows they are often looking to take on kitchen assistants - she'll get in touch.

after a few days, she's nervously making her way to the ministry of magic for her first day. the hogwarts kitchens were big and busy but they've got nothing on the ministry; a scene of vast, barely organised chaos. her boss is shrewd and fierce, and she's set to work on the most basic tasks to prove herself.

that afternoon, a senior ministry official comes down to check on catering preparations for an event she's hosting in a couple of days. trolley witch has just finished glazing several pans of pastries. the senior ministry official tries one.

'she's new, miss' says a nearby chef, excusing trolley witch's skills.

'impressive, for a new recruit,' says ottaline gambol, looking trolley witch straight in the eye, 'this glaze is excellent. welcome to the ministry.'

an obsession begins.

ottaline visits the kitchens only occasionally but trolley witch is always waiting for her. she works harder than ever, picking up every recipe, designing new dishes, honing flavour combinations, all to make sure she's got something impressive for the next visit.

it works. the older official is mildly impressed, if a little unsettled by trolley witch's solitary, strange nature. she rarely seems to go home or interact with anyone apart from necessary conversations in the kitchens.

one day, they meet in an elevator as trolley witch is taking food to an important ministry hearing. ottaline asks for a sample and their fingers brush as trolley witch hands her a pumpkin pasty. ottaline doesn't notice, but compliments the pasty. trolley witch tries to keep her composure.

'my department is in need of an assistant catering manager, helping to design event menus and so on. think about it.'

trolley witch doesn't need to think. she accepts and begins work in ottaline's department, seeing her almost every day, watching her closely.

ottaline gambol is a force to be reckoned with - strong-willed, assertive, a powerfully skilled witch. over the next 6 years she charts a meteoric rise in power, from senior official to head of department to - in 1827 - minister for magic.

trolley witch never leaves her side. she works hard to keep honing her culinary skills, but she does more. she waits for ottaline outside meetings to walk her back to the office. she analyses the smallest gesture, the most offhand of comments. she's desperate for approval and attention from this woman who showed her kindess on her first day. by her appointment as minister, ottaline has noticed the girl's obsession. she's got more important things to do than navigate an intense crush and figure out how to let this odd, lonely girl down gently.

in 1830, ottaline is finalising plans for the hogwarts express - a new form of transport to safely deliver students to hogwarts, managed by the ministry. it's revolutionary, it's creating a storm of attention across the wizarding world. and it needs a trolley witch.

someone to cook and sell food on the journey, but someone with a keen eye to watch over the students and make sure they don't come to harm. ottaline calls trolley witch into her ministerial office and offers her the job. it's the greatest honour of trolley witch's life.

to be chosen, so specifically, by ottaline. she feels like she's finally been recognised, she's finally achieved something. she realises she'll be apart from ottaline for a while, but probably just a year or two and then they can be together again, right? she begins work.

1st september, 1830. her first day.

'good luck,' says ottaline on platform 9 3/4. 'keep these children on the train, and keep them safe. i trust you to do an excellent job for me.'

those were the last words ottaline ever spoke to trolley witch.

the train departs. trolley witch walks the corridors, distributing pasties and sweets, watching the children. they are all delivered on time and in perfect health to hogwarts - a great success. trolley witch writes to ottaline straight away to tell her the good news.

'thank you for you letter, i'm pleased to hear the journey was a success. best wishes' is ottaline's reply.

she's probably very busy, will write a longer letter soon, thinks trolley witch. she never does.

trolley witch works back in the hogwarts kitchens during the year, with only the elves for company. years pass and trolley witch continues to write long, rambling letters to ottaline, never receiving a reply. she makes the journey back and forth to london at the beginning and end of every holiday, dutifully watching over the students.

she hopes to see ottaline at the station, but never does. in 1835, tragedy strikes - ottaline, nearing the end of her second term as minister, contracts a severe case of dragon pox and dies. trolley witch sees the news in a student's copy of the daily prophet and is inconsolable. she speaks to nobody for weeks, not even the elves, even when a few other members of staff ask her what's wrong.

one day in the kitchens an elf passes by with a full tray of pumpkin pasties, perfectly glazed. she remembers the first day she met ottaline, back in that busy kitchen, and she vows to protect her legacy. she works tirelessly, baking and cooking and watching the children. they test her patience, play cruel tricks, tease her, never ask her name. she forgets the outside world, forgets who she is, thinks only of ottaline.

every journey on the hogwarts express becomes more perilous - she cannot let the children get the better of her, cannot let ottaline's work be in vain. over the decades she picks up elfish magic, learning to weaponise her food, and later herself.

she goes unnoticed by staff and students alike, existing as a constant feature of their hogwarts life, always present but never worthy of attention. staff come and go, and nobody thinks to ask how long she's been at hogwarts. she stays alive through sheer willpower.

1st september 2020.

a normal hogwarts express journey - or so the trolley witch thinks. all is well until albus potter and scorpius malfoy climb onto the roof of the train to try and escape. it's the greatest test of trolley witch's career.

it's been a long time since she was challenged like this. she does her best - pumpkin pasty grenades, armoured fingernails, but the boys escape. her world shatters around her. ottaline would be so disappointed in her - she's failed in her sole duty.

it's been two hundred years and she has never failed before. mcgonagall tries to comfort her, but it's no use. what purpose does she serve now? trolley witch hands in her notice and leaves the castle the next day, never to be seen again. she wanders the forests near the castle, thinking only of ottaline. perhaps ottaline had known all along that she would fail, and that's why she never replied to her letters, why she never visited. she gets lost, deeper and deeper in the forest, until the cold and the dark envelop her.

when the hogwarts express departs for the christmas holidays, something is missing - someone. students start to get impatient.

'where's the trolley witch? i'm hungry.'

complaints are made. eventually the ministry hires a replacement, service resumes. trolley witch fades into history, unremembered.

so next time you are thinking about cursed child, about your cute albus and scorpius headcanons - remember the trolley witch.

remember what they did to her. remember her story.

🛒 1802-2020 🛒

the end

#ccsquad #harry potter #cursed child #hpcc #trolley witch #ottaline gambol #hogwarts express #headcanons #my hcs #trolleybitch #albus potter #scorpius malfoy #this is probs the best thing i will ever write and i'm not sorry

16 notes · View notes

northpen · 4 years

Text

the long jade night (preview)

an: despite having another multi-chapter in the works, i’ve been secretly working on a mini-sequel to Meet Again. the final result will be a one-shot, but i’ve finally finished the first part, so i’ve decided to post it as a preview here!

(slight warning: this preview is more than 3k words long).

JADE | QUIET

The story broke a year after their return as ninja.

Cole tugged on the sails of Destiny's Bounty, turning them northwest. The wind was strong; it wouldn't take long to reach their destination. What awaited them, he wasn't entirely sure. He only knew that its prospect filled him with dread.

The laws of chronology dictated that Cole was 3129 years-old. In appearance, he looked no older than twenty-one. He had lived through thirty-one lifetimes. Some were happy, some were sad, but most were lonely. Until now, he had long since accepted the latter as a permanent symptom of agelessness. It wasn't very often that he got to live his days surrounded by friends.

It crushed his heart to know this was the last time it would ever happen.

"I knew her once, didn't I?" said a robotic voice from behind.

He tied down the ropes and turned around. Adorned by his white ninja robes, Zane stood stiffly on the wooden deck. There was a familiar sadness in his eyes, the kind that came around whenever he encountered something he could no longer remember. It pained Cole to witness. They had promised to continue their lives as ninja to create new memories, not mourn the ones they had lost.

It would get easier over time, he assumed. In Jamanakai, they would no longer be surrounded by reminders of the lives they had once shared together. They would both heal in the village's snowy landscape. And then they would prosper.

"We barely knew her," Cole replied. His memories of her before her death were faint, a vague recollection in lieu of anything concrete. "Lloyd and Nya knew her better. We were trapped in another dimension when she ruled with Garmadon. By the time we came back, she was gone. It's a little worrying."

Zane tilted his head to the side. "Worrying?"

Memories of sifting through the ruins of a fallen building crawled across his consciousness like spiders, pinning the visuals just behind his eyes. Chunks of grey brick. Dirt. Shattered glass. He lifted the treasures beneath them with shaky hands.

A strand of pin-straight white hair, now soaked in blood and coated with dust.

"I knew the others well when we approached them. They were different, but the same in all the ways that mattered. Their souls hadn't changed at all," he said. He clenched his fist to keep his hand from shaking. "I feel like I'm going into this blind. The Jade Princess was never one of my closest friends."

Zane hummed. "Then why help her?"

His decision to return to Ninjago City was impossible to rationalize. Despite initial false appearances, Harumi had always been an enemy to them. She had lied to them, taunted them, tried to kill them—and yet, she drew such deep feelings of sympathy from him. There was no way for him to answer the why without going into abstract emotions that made no sense to anyone but himself.

"I can't explain it," he finally responded. "I just feel this is something I have to do."

Zane came forward and placed a comforting cold hand on Cole's shoulder. "If you believe so, we will stand behind you."

Cole nodded and swallowed thickly. Right now, it wasn't Zane or the other ninja that worried him. It was Borg Industries and what they would do when they realized he'd betrayed them.

The previous evening, the police had sent a memo to the Bounty's communications system. A sixteen year-old girl, adopted only a few years ago into a wealthy family, had slit her adopted parents' throats and hidden away somewhere in Ninjago City. Afraid she would hurt other people, the police had requested the aid of the ninja in her retrieval. Of course, they had accepted immediately. But they had their own ulterior motives.

The story was too familiar for Cole to ignore. Even without her name, he knew this was the work of the Quiet One. Harumi was well and alive and Lloyd's desperate gamble had more widespread effects than initially thought.

Last night, he'd dreamt of the building's wreckage. When he'd awoken that morning, he'd remembered the testimony from a family who claimed that Emperor Garmadon's right-hand had played a personal role in their survival. After lunch, he'd made his final decision about what he would do when he reached Ninjago City.

He would find Princess Harumi. And then, he would let her go before any of the police's nindroids could take her away to the Kryptarium.

The police didn't know she was a reincarnation. Cole planned to use their secret connection to his advantage.

It was a risky move. A treacherous one. But he believed in her potential for redemption, and to him, that was enough reason to put himself back into danger again.

He just hoped that she wasn't beyond saving.

The city came into view during sunset. Its dark skyscrapers disrupted the soft pinks and oranges of the horizon; metaphorical spikes that cut into the delicate skin of nature and made it bleed heat and waste. Buildings stretched on for miles upon miles, an endless jungle of concrete and metal that had consumed much of the west coast in its expansion. They spoke to him in nonverbal tongues and made their demands ever so clear: We may trip, we may stumble, but we will never fall. What makes you so certain you can undermine us and win?

He could not answer their question. Doubt bloomed in his belly as the Bounty flew closer to Ninjago City. To help Harumi, the ninja would need to defy the police, Borg Industries, and the government of Ninjago itself—this was a gamble that threatened them with major institutional backlash. If they failed, they would spend the rest of their lives on the run. Nindroid agents would stalk them to the smallest of rural villages. Drones would shoot down the sails of the Bounty in the dead of night. Any reprieve they had found in their year of liberty would be lost to the threat of imprisonment.

They would become enemies of the state. Dangerous to the public. Wanted.

Hunted.

Autopilot kicked in and the Bounty lurched forward. They had begun their descent into the city.

Cole held his breath in a bid to slow his racing heart. Somewhere in the city, hidden away in an abandoned home or a dark alleyway, awaited the last reincarnation for him to encounter. Like Nya, had Harumi figured out she was a reincarnation on her own? Had she stolen her memories back just as Morro did? When they came face-to-face, would she recognize him as someone from their shared past, or only as a stranger from the present future?

The Bounty's thrusters roared as it lowered over the football field that acted as their temporary landing pad. When he looked over the edge of the deck, he could see many trucks and police cars in the parking lot next to the field. It seemed like the Commissioner was in a hurry to move things along.

The deck below his feet shook as the Bounty stuck its landing. Below deck, it was Zane alone who controlled the Bounty's motions. Nya would be in her room, getting ready to come upstairs. Out of all the ninja, she was the only one Borg and the police really trusted. Zane's memory loss and control by Nadakhan had spooked them, the other ninja were nobodies in their eyes, and Cole was a little too rebellious to be seen as someone they could depend on. Nya was their stable link that was about to be treacherously severed.

The hatch opened beside him. Nya's head poked out, and Cole offered his hand to help her climb the rest of the way out. She wore her gi and knee armour, but her hood rested at her shoulders. When she got to her feet, she took one look at Cole and rolled her eyes.

"If you want them to trust you—" she reached forward and yanked down Cole's hood "—you can't make it seem like you're trying to hide from them. I know you're a good liar. Put your acting skills to use."

The autumn air stung his cheeks. "You remember the code?"

She gave him a knowing smile. "If something is wrong, I say 'piano'. If something is disastrously wrong, I say 'Ronin'."

He put a finger to his ear and pushed down. "You guys hear that?"

"Yes, dad. We all heard," retorted Kai's voice over the channel. "Connecting to line five. Have fun."

Line five, the emergency line. The ninja were aware that for such a high level investigation, their usual communications channels wouldn't be safe. The police would want to work in conjunction with the ninja, so it was wise to assume that their voice channels would be secretly listened into by police forces. Line five was unique because unlike their other lines, it couldn't be listened into. Or at least, not until the police realized what they were doing.

Buried inside of Zane's original hardware was a transceiver for basic communications. It was this transceiver, as Nya and Jay had explained to him, that allowed Zane to hear sounds as well as emit them. "When you talk to him, the transceiver converts your words into radio signals he can receive," Jay had told him. "He digests them in a human manner, forms his response, and then transmits it back in audio waves perceivable by you. It seems complicated, but it's not really. Just think of him as a living walkie-talkie." It was this transceiver they were manipulating for line five. Instead of relaying their communications through the Bounty, they now had a much more personal short-range radio tower: Zane.

Line five routed its communications through Zane's personal transceiver. As long as they were within a few kilometres of each other, line five would transmit their words on a secure channel that could only be used by those with access to Zane's body. Thanks to Nya's purge of Zane from the system after the Nadakhan takeover, that number had been reduced down to a comfortable six.

To reduce suspicion, they would only use it in dire emergencies. The codeword piano, spoken over the main channel, meant one of the ninja needed help. Ronin meant that the police were growing suspicious and the ninja needed saving. A call for help over line five meant that evacuation was likely in order. He hoped it wouldn't come to that. They were being so careful—if all went according to plan, Harumi would be on the Bounty by the end of the night while they flew her to the moderate safety of the countryside.

At the edge of the deck, Cole wrapped an arm around Nya's torso and used airjitzu to float them safely to the ground. They crossed the grass and passed through a gate, where the parking lot awaited them on the other side. The Commissioner and several detectives were gathered beside a police van next to the parking lot entrance.

The Commissioner stretched out his arms in welcome. "Oh, how great it is to see you again, Miss Nya. Let me tell you, the current head of security is nowhere close to as good as you were."

She shook his hand politely. "You need to keep hiring reincarnated ninja. We're pretty special, you know."

The Commissioner laughed and offered his hand to Cole. "Is it safe to assume neither of the original ninja would be interested in the position?"

"Way too stressful for me," Cole replied with a smile. He hoped it didn't look too forced. "We're both pretty dead set on retirement, but who knows? Maybe we'll get bored after a few centuries and Zane will want to help out in the city again."

The Commissioner's thick moustache twitched as he smiled. "Then I look forward to your boredom."

"We're not doing the debriefing here, are we?" Nya cut in. "We should get moving. Or did we all forget there's a dangerous murderer on the loose?"

A nindroid opened the police van's side door. The Commissioner gestured to its interior.

"Of course. Climb in."

Throughout all of his years as a ninja, Cole had only visited the police headquarters a handful of times. His memory painted it as a crowded place, each floor in the tall building packed wall-to-wall with nindroid officers and human detectives. He recalled shouting and phones ringing, a place that was always loud and always busy. Tonight, it was eerily empty.

"Please excuse our appearance," the Commissioner said as he led them through the vacant halls. "Just about every capable employee we have is searching for the suspect. It's a very high priority mission for us."

All for one person, Cole thought. It occurred to him that they might not have received the full story in the transmission to the Bounty. What had Harumi done to warrant such a reaction?

Nya shared a glance with Cole. A year of masks had taught them to read each other's eyes well. In the darkest parts of her brown eyes, hidden by their feigned impartiality, was an expression of sincere worry. He was certain they were both thinking the same thing: with every cop in the city on the case, this was going to be a lot harder than originally anticipated.

The debriefing was held in a small conference room on the fourth floor. A sleek wooden table stretched across the room, its top covered in scattered paperwork and discarded takeout coffee cups. At the end of the table, three human silhouettes watched a 24-hour news station being projected onto the wall.

"Before we continue into the next story, a reminder to stay indoors if possible for the night," the anchor said to the camera. A photo of Harumi was displayed in a box next to her head. "The suspect is still at large and considered to be dangerous by the police. While the Commissioner has not yet signalled an intent to move the city into lockdown—"

"You look very busy," the Commissioner commented loudly. "Can any of you explain to me why public funds are being spent so you can watch TV?"

One of the detectives waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Yeah, yeah. We were just waiting for you to get here."

The lazy, deep drawl of his voice froze Cole in place. In the flickering light of the projector, he caught glimpses of the detective's personal features. Puffy, gelled-up hair. Trimmed eyebrows. A cleft chin. A smile that seemed to stretch a little too wide.

Really, Cole should have expected his return by this point.

Dareth turned to face them completely. "How are the ninja doing, anyways? Still okay after ditching us for a year?"

"We're doing fine, thank you," Nya said. Her hand touched his arm. She would take the lead from here. "Are you the detectives we're working with?"

"More or less," Dareth responded. "I'm the only mystery-solver here. The other two are just intelligence."

The female detective to Dareth's left slapped his arm. "I haven't spent ten years undercover for you to write me off as intelligence," she complained. She leaned forward on the table and winked. Her clumpy mascara brought attention to the sharp look in her eye. "The name's Violet. Nice to meet you."

The last intelligence took this as his queue to face the ninja as well. This was a face Cole was more excited to see.

He adjusted his glasses. His wheelchair squeaked as a result of the movement. "Cyrus," he said simply.

Nya flashed Cole a look, asking for confirmation. He nodded. Yep, it was the same one.

"This will be your team for the rest of the mission," the Commissioner said. He gestured to the chairs at the table. "Why don't you take a seat? I think it's about time we got on with the debriefing."

"Of course," Nya said. Cole moved to follow her to the chairs, but the Commissioner stopped him with a firm hand to his chest. "Not you. I need you to stay up."

Cole swallowed nervously. "Why?"

In lieu of answering his question, the Commissioner moved to the front of the room. The projector flashed erratically over his body. He lifted an arm to Cole, gesturing for him to come closer.

Nya gave Cole a small nod. It was safe to go forward.

The projector hurt his eyes. He looked into the dark corners of the room as the Commissioner clapped a large hand onto his back.

"As I'm sure you all know, the black ninja here is blessed with memories stretching all the way back to the unleashing of the Great Devourer," the Commissioner began. The hand on his back was more forceful than comforting, an idle threat that scared him more than Morro ever did. "Tonight, your debriefing won't be done by me. I think it's only fair that we let the expert take the lead."

Cole snapped his head to face the Commissioner. "I don't follow."

A laugh. It was a little mocking, a little sarcastic.

It was one Cole couldn't trust.

"Why don't you tell us what you know about the Jade Princess?" His hand trailed up his back, fingers dancing along the nape of his neck. "Judging by the presence of our friend Nya here, I'm sure this isn't your first time dealing with a reincarnation."

Just like that, the plan burned. The police knew Harumi was a reincarnation. The ninja's only advantage was gone.

If Cole had planned on stowing her away and then playing stupid, this was now completely impossible. They would expect him to know everything. If he couldn't locate her hideout, they would at the very least expect him to locate her corpse. Even after all these years, he could remember her original death bed in perfect clarity.

The Commissioner knew that Harumi's hours were numbered. With a case this serious, there was no way Cole would be allowed to operate without supervision. He had two choices: turn in Harumi to the police, or once again find her broken among the rubble.

His status as the only ninja with memories was being weaponized against him. There was no easy way for him to liberate Harumi and remain on the good graces of the law at the same time.

Well, it was a good thing he didn't work alone. It wasn't like the Commissioner could keep track of six fully-trained ninja at once.

"Harumi wasn't a friend," Cole said. He willed his voice to be forceful, channelling the ninja leader inside of him. "She was a monster. A dangerous, evil monster. My only regret is that I never got to take a swing at her myself."

A finger tapped Cole's neck. "You must remember more than that."

Cole found comfort in Nya's quietly terrified eyes. Her hand was balled into a fist below the table, and she seemed ready to spring from the chair at a moment's notice. She must have reached all the same conclusions as him.

The faint hum of the earpiece in his ear inspired his next words.

"Well, she was always a little closed off on the Bounty. But I do remember her being really, really good at the piano."

thanks for reading! i’m going to try to have this finished soon <3

#ive had a few requests for meet again one shots #so ive been slowly hammering one out #ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago fanfiction #meet again #my fics

22 notes · View notes

catb-fics · 4 years

Text

So I’ve decided to just make this a short story for now... there’ll be one more part after this but who knows? I might come back to it at a later date and write a longer story to include the other lads... maybe go a bit ‘Twilight’!

Love Bites (Part 2)

Warnings: Not yet but things are def heating up! / Word Count: 2.2k

Read Part 1 here

It's a dull, dreary Monday morning as you make your way to work. November has brought with it all the chill you might expect from a mid-winter's day, and you pull your coat around yourself tightly, wincing slightly as you catch the plaster that's covering the cut on your hand. It still smarts slightly, but the sensation is nothing compared to the embarrassment you feel when you re-play the incident of Van ordering you out of his house in your mind. It's silly really, you'd only just met him and you'd barely got past the introductions, but for some reason you've just not been able to get him out of your head.

You'd toyed with the idea of going to his house the next day and apologising, but Emma had talked you out of it. She was probably right. I mean, did you really want to get mixed up with someone with a temper that volatile?

"Hi Y/N!" Vicky, one of your colleagues, greets you as you walk into the office, a ridiculously huge grin plastered across her face.

You eye her suspiciously. "Why are you so cheerful on a Monday morning?"

"I should be asking you why you're not more cheerful!" Comes her reply, confusing you further.

"Why should I be?"

Now Vicky looks exasperated, shaking her head. "Why didn't you tell me you had a fella?"

"Because I don't..." you begin, but your words are cut off as she reaches down behind her desk, pulling out a beautiful bouquet of red roses.

"Oh well... you definitely have an admirer then!" She grins, thrusting the flowers into your hand. "These arrived first thing... Hold on... you really don't know who they're from do you? Look... there's a note."

You accept the flowers, staring at them dumbstruck. "It must be a mistake..."

But no, there nestled among the petals is a small red envelope with your name clearly printed on the front. You eagerly grasp it, gently placing the roses on your desk, your mind flicking through possible candidates and rejecting each one.

Dan, the boring guy from accounts you'd gone for a curry with two weeks ago? Not likely....

Steve, Emma's older brother who's always flirting with you? But he has a girlfriend...

The new guy from the office downstairs who you were chatting to in the kitchen last week? Impossible... you're not even sure he knows your name!

"Open it!" Vicky's urging, clapping her hands in excitement. "They're beautiful, hand-tied and everything. I think they're from that posh florist in town. You know my sister got her wedding bouquet from there..."

But you aren't listening to Vicky. You're reading the note, a shocked kind of disbelief paralysing you momentarily.

Y/N, please accept my apologies for how I acted on Saturday night. I'd like to make it up to you if you'd let me? Dinner tonight, 7pm, my house. Van x

Fifteen minutes later when you've finally managed to shut Vicky up firing questions at you about your mysterious admirer, you're on the phone to Emma, who's equally shocked at your surprise gift and the offer of dinner.

"Oh my god, I can't believe it! So what are you gonna wear?" She says excitedly.

"Hold on... you're talking like I'm actually going to go."

"Y/N... of course you gotta go! The guy spends 15 minutes with you and he's already sending you flowers!" Her voice is raised.

"But you were saying he was a psycho for reacting how he did..." you protest.

"Well... that was before this! Go on... give him a chance... he's said sorry. Just go and see what he's like."

You pause, feeling torn. Emma speaks again, her tone teasing.

"And he's gorgeous!"

She's not wrong. You think back to the way he looked at you with a certain sort of hunger and flurries of excitement run through you. By the time you've come off the phone Emma's well and truly convinced you, and it's hard to concentrate on your work for the rest of the day. A tiny niggling doubt keeps surfacing as you wonder how the hell he knew you worked here, but you push it away. You've made your mind up.

* * * * *

On Emma's instruction 'not to look desperate' you turn up to Van's house that evening at 7.15pm, but then start profusely apologising for being late as soon as he appears at the door. You decide you're just not cut out for acting cool and aloof like Emma suggests. One glimpse at Van and you're acting like a schoolgirl with a crush again.

"Hey, stop apologising, I'm the one who should be saying sorry, remember?" He smiles as he beckons you inside.

"It's fine, really. And the roses were beautiful. Thank you so much."

He grins. "It's the least I could do... look I'm really sorry if I upset you. I don't know what came over me."

He starts leading you down another dark and winding hallway that's in the opposite direction to where the party took place. It occurs to you that if you didn't have Van leading you then you could easily get lost in this house. It's like a maze.

"Really it's fine Van, I was careless smashing the glass. And my cut's healing up really well..."

You offer your hand for him to look at. You've taken the plaster off, hoping it will heal better in the fresh air. Van suddenly stops dead in his tracks, grasping your hand, his eyes fixed on your injury. It looks red and angry still. He screws his eyes shut and visibly shudders, so you snatch your hand away.

"Oh... I'm sorry, I didn't realise you were so squeamish!" You laugh. "My sister's the same. Gets really freaked out if anyone hurts themselves. Can't stand the sight of blood!"

Van glances over at you, smiling, but his eyes look strange again. God, what is it about those eyes? It's like looking into an icy cold pool, and you feel if you look for too long you'll be pulled under the current.

A few more twists and turns down various corridors and Van opens another door to reveal a large room with a heavy wooden table flanked by many ornately carved chairs. It looks like something from a medieval banquet hall. You wonder what on earth Van does to afford such a grand house. He looks like he's no more than mid-20s. Maybe he inherited it.

Van gestures for you to sit at the head of the table, drawing the chair out for you in a gentlemanly manner.

"Oh, I've not taken your jacket yet," you hear him say from behind you and you feel his hands on your shoulders so you shrug out of your jacket.

Wow, this guy does NOT know the boundaries of personal space. No sooner as your jacket's slipped off your shoulders than you feel his head dip down so it's flush next to your neck. You've chosen to wear a pretty lace off the shoulder top and you're stunned when he sweeps your hair to one side, pressing his face against your bare skin and you actually hear him deeply inhale.

The gesture makes you feel both intensely awkward but excited at the same time and you're not sure how to react. You'd pretend not to notice if he wasn't still lingering there.

"It's Chanel again before you ask!" You laugh nervously.

He lets out a noise almost like a little sigh and it sends a spike of heat through you. "Mmm... I've changed my mind. I don't think it's your perfume after all.”

Okay... this is getting weirder by the second. So he's saying you smell nice? You'd be completely freaked out if you weren't so goddamn attracted to him.

Finally he pulls away and you realise you've been holding your breath. He takes the seat to the left hand side of you and looks at you for a long moment.

"Do I make you feel uncomfortable Y/N?"

What are you supposed to say? Come clean and admit that, yes, every little action, every look he gives you sets you on edge?

"No of course not," you hurriedly say, lying through your teeth.

The knowing smile he gives you tells you he knows the exact effect he's having and maybe he's actually enjoying it, and you're not quite sure how you feel about that.

Thankfully the door creaks open at that moment, distracting you both. A short, dark-haired guy with a cheerful smile steps into the room, carrying a bottle of wine and a fancy silver platter which he places on the table in front of you, removing the lid with a flourish. The food looks amazing, restaurant quality and presented beautifully, but you're confused. Van doesn't have any food in front of him.

"Are you not eating?" You ask him.

He leans back in his chair, taking a sip of the wine that's just been poured. "No... let's just say I have... a very... refined palate."

"Oh... errr... okay," you mumble, taking a large gulp of the wine. "I feel a little awkward being the only one eating."

"Please don't... enjoy the food," Van gestures towards your plate. "Besides... I'll be eating later... I hope."

There's something about his statement and the way he says it that makes your belly flip. He's looking at you almost like he wants to devour you, and you glance down at your plate, feeling flustered.

"That'll be all Larry, you can go," Van addresses the young man who brought the food with a wave of his hand and you find yourself smiling as he turns to leave.

"What?" Van says.

"Oh... nothing," you reply. "It's just I'm surprised that you have staff!"

Van outstretches his arms as if to indicate the whole house. "Well I definitely need a hand managing this big, old place. And you know... it can get quite lonely at times. It's so nice to have company."

This surprises you. Van seems so charming despite his little quirks, and you're surprised some lucky lady hasn't come along and snapped him up already.

The food is every bit as delicious as it looks and the wine's amazing too, some posh vintage that Van delights in telling you all about. Despite your earlier uneasiness you find yourself starting to relax. It becomes apparent that Van loves to talk, so there's never an awkward silence. He asks you lots of questions about yourself and seems genuinely interested in all you have to say. You're conscious that your life might seem boring in comparison, but Van seems rapt hearing even the most mundane details. In contrast, he seems evasive about the details of his own life, talking in vague terms or steering the conversation back to you.

Before long, you've finished your meal and Van enquires whether you'd like dessert. You have a real sweet tooth and you're tempted, but the fact that Van won't be joining you makes you decline. He tops up your wine glass instead and leans back in his chair, regarding you with a little smile and his eyes simmering with that same hungry look he had earlier. You feel the tension fall back over the room.

"You know, you should wear your hair up, you have such a pretty, delicate neck," Van says, and the comment catches you off-guard. You're not comfortable receiving compliments at the best of times, and his forwardness makes you feel even more shy.

"Err... thank you..." You find yourself pushing your hair back over your shoulders, allowing Van to admire you all the more.

He leans across the table towards you suddenly, raising a hand, letting his fingers gently trail from below your jawline down your neck to your collarbone. His hands are cool but you feel like his fingertips leave a trail of fire in their wake. You feel a deep flush rise right through your body.

“And your skin... it’s really rather beautiful... so soft.” His voice is smooth like honey.

Your words catch in your throat and you want to look away, but Van’s caught you in his gaze and you find that you’re not able to.

He smiles again. “I’m embarrassing you.”

“A little...” you admit, but you don’t want him to stop. Your pulse is racing and you can’t help but look at his full, pink lips, imagining what they’d feel like on yours.

“I like it,” Van says. “You know when you blush, the blood rises to the surface of the skin. Don’t you think the human body is amazing? You can tell so much just by observing...”

You squirm a little in your seat. Van moves even closer, leaning right in so he’s just inches away. He speaks again.

“Take you now for example. Your pupils have dilated. That tells me you’re feeling attraction... and desire...”

Oh shit, he’s so fucking intense. You just sit there, not daring to speak, your heart pounding, waiting for him to make his move.

“And your heart’s beating fast too. Believe it or not I can actually hear the blood rushing through your veins...”

What? Surely not?

“I doubt that...” you say in a quiet voice.

“Oh... I’m full of surprises Y/N,” he says mysteriously.

“Really? Like what?” You ask, waiting with baited breath.

He doesn’t say a word, just holds you under his enchanting gaze, letting his lips part slightly, just enough so that you can see his perfectly pointed white teeth.

Read Part 3 now...

#anyone else feeling a bit hot?#vampire van #catfish and the bottlemen #van mccann #fanfic #vanfic #smut

22 notes · View notes

curewhimsy · 4 years

Text

Symphony Saga: Resonate summary/outline

Chapter 1

(Introduce the lore and conflict as Uta/Defoko and her life/surroundings are introduced.)

Uta Utane (AKA Defoko,) 14 years old, is an artificial humanoid from a dystopian planet (Discord) where music is banned and kept a secret by the government. This planet mass-produces androids. This planet is at war with another dystopian planet (Monochrome) and they both produce androids for the purpose for fighting the war. Due to a manufacturing error, the one of the “Default female-1” (codenamed “Defoko”) androids ended up significantly more sentient. She hated the war and fighting, so she rebelled. Defoko feels very depressed and empty about her life, and hates being a machine.

Chapter 2

One fateful day, Defoko, using her advanced aerospace engineering intellect, completes a high-speed “disappearing” spacecraft she was building so that can flee from the planet unnoticed. She arrives at the magical world of Whimsica where things are better on December 3rd. Defoko changes her name to Uta Utane, after some kanji she saw on the sign of a karaoke cafe around her new home.

Uta chose to name herself after kanji from the cafe, because the musical sounds coming from the building made her feel something “warm and poignant.” The night when she visited the cafe, Taya and his friend Ritsu were inside, having a session of singing karaoke. Taya was singing a solo in attempt to get over his shyness. The sound Uta fell in love with was actually Taya’s singing voice.

Uta begins living alone in a small, worn-down apartment. She acquires a part-time job repairing computers to make ends meet.

Uta would describe herself as being self-aware, but lacking the ability to feel euphoria. (Think of it as a sort of depression.) She wishes she were a “real girl” so she could feel this emotion. Despite this, Uta is a very kind, considerate, wisecracking, and compassionate spirit...

On Whimsica, she is still very lonely for now.

That night, Uta sleeps and she has her first dream, because she experienced something that gave her life a meaning (music.) She hears music in her dream and it makes her happy, but when she wakes up, she cannot explain the sensations she felt.

Chapter 3

Uta enrolls herself in the local magical high school, as she is still a young teen and she wants to meet friends. It is her first time going to a proper school. Her new school is very strange. Along with human students, there is also an array of supernatural humanoids, talking animals, anthromorphs (furries,) other creatures, and even... talking objects!?

Even if that is true, Uta sadly feels she still doesn’t fit in.

On her first day at school, Uta‘s first period class is cooking class. She ends up making the confections explode, and gets a scolding and awful grade from the teacher, Miriam. She doesn’t feel like she fits in. On her way to her second-period class, Uta ends up meeting Taya Soune, her shy 15-year-old classmate.

Taya is very late to his second period class because a mean bully girl named Tei Sukone threw his monocle in the big wishing well and ran off, leaving Taya having to change into his wetsuit, dive in the well and find his monocle, and then go back to the dressing room and change back into his suit and tie outfit. Uta meanwhile is wandering the chaotic hallways of the school, completely lost.

Sometimes in Adventure Academy, when class is in session and students are supposed to be in class, there is a small chance of a monster spawning in the hallways. If a student needs to visit the bathroom or walk down the hall for any reason during a class session, a hall pass can protect students from these monsters.

A monster ends up spawning in the hall as Uta and Taya cross paths. It’s six feet tall and looks like a cross between a penguin, bear, and snake. And it has lots of neon spikes. Neither Taya or Uta have a hall pass on them, so it attacks them!

In Whimsica, monsters are creatures with no souls that typically do nothing but cause destruction. They are mostly made of negative emotions.

Taya may have some magic, but isn’t very good at fighting, so Uta uses her epic android powers to protect them both ad defeat the monster. Uta has a magical machine gun type of pistol, a force field shield, and teleportation powers, and something like The Force to fling large objects with psychic power.

When monsters in Whimsica are defeated, they sometimes drop various kinds of items. The monster drops game tickets to use in the arcade. Uta doesn’t know what they are.

Taya thanks Uta profusely for defeating the monster. He is in awe of the new student’s powers and asks where she is from. Uta is very shy, which Taya doesn’t expect since she is so good in battle. She has a quiet voice that sounds monotone and a bit artificial. Uta finally spits out that she is an android from space. Taya realizes Uta may be sensitive about this, so he vows to try and keep this secret...

Taya tells Uta his name and begins to get to know her. He is quite friendly and guides Uta on her way to her second period class, magic class, which they have together. After school, Taya says he will go to the mall with Uta and show her the arcade, and use the game tickets they acquired from the monster.

Chapter 4

Uta’s third period is math class, which Taya isn’t in. She feels lonely again and thinks about Taya. But then, she ends up meeting two new friends named Teto and Momo, who welcome her to the school. Taya’s third period class is music class. He has this class with with Ritsu, along with Ritsu’s other good friend, Ruko. Taya tells Ritsu about the kind and cool new student named Uta, but not the fact that Uta is an android from space. Ritsu notices that Taya seems to be fond of Uta, which is great, because he notices Taya seems lonesome a lot and wants him to come out of his shell more. Ritsu then offers to help Taya become more social, by offering him friendship and introducing him to Ruko as well. Taya is overjoyed to have a closer bond with Ritsu and another friend in Ruko.

After third period class, is lunch break, and everyone meets up together. Uta introduces Taya, Ritsu, and Ruko to herself, Teto, and Momo. They become a group of six.

For fourth period, Uta has computer coding with Ritsu. Taya has cooking class with Teto and Momo, and Ruko is alone in language arts.

In fifth period, everyone has gym class together.

Finally, in sixth period, Uta and Taya have Whimsica Geography class together. Everyone else is together in dance class.

Uta starts opening up to Taya when she feels she can trust him. By the end of the school day, they are friends.

“I want to be a real girl.” Uta somberly tells him then. “I want to have a soul. As an android, I cannot truly feel joy.”

However, Taya believes that Uta is already a real girl, and that she has a beautiful soul. He is determined on his quest to help Uta feel true happiness.

Chapter 5

After school, everyone else is busy, and only Uta and Taya have free time. Taya takes Uta to the arcade. Uta hears all kinds of music at the arcade. Taya has never seen Uta so entranced before. Uta asks Taya why these sounds make her feel so alive. Taya tells Uta that they are more than just sounds, they have feelings and soul, and are called “music.” Uta falls in love with music. When she hears it, she becomes indescribably enthralled.

At the arcade, Taya plays a dance game and gets a pretty high score. Apparently, it’s Taya’s favorite game at the arcade and he has had a lot of practice every chance he could get. Uta is mesmerized as she watches Taya dance to the music. Uta is a bit shy to dance herself, but a spacecraft piloting game catches her attention. Uta plays the game and gets an incredibly high score, and ends up attracting a crowd of people in awe of her skills. Uta ends up getting a huge output of coins to exchange for prizes. When Uta and Taya put their coins together, they have enough to buy a brand-new karaoke machine that even comes with three karaoke albums to sing to!

Music had awoken something deep in Uta’s soul. It’s a feeling of excitement, thrill, and comfort, but also immense yearning. Uta feels she wouldn’t be truly happy unless she would be able to compose music and sing. Taya sees Uta staring longingly at the karaoke machine.

“Oh, would you like the karaoke machine?” Taya asks Uta. “If so, it can be all yours. I already have something like it. I think it would be great for you. You want to sing, don’t you? You’ll get to experience music even more!”

“Thank you.” Uta says. “But... I’m afraid I can’t.”

Uta looks incredibly forlorn.

“Why?” Taya asks softly. “What do you mean?”

Uta explains that she feels she wouldn’t be able to sing or compose music, since one needs a heart to be able to make music. Uta is convinced she doesn’t have one. Also, can a being with an artificial voice really sing?

Taya can tell how much Uta longs to create music. He hugs her gently and tells her a story. Taya thought he couldn’t sing either at first, because he was too shy. But thanks to an old friend he has, he found the courage to keep trying back then. Taya promises he will help Uta however he can as well.

Taya ends getting a bit emotional... Uta ends up getting emotional too. They end up holding up the line. Merli, a snobby girl from school, is next in line. She rolls her eyes and says “Oh PLEASE.”

Taya ends up developing feelings for Uta. Her story and dream pulls at his heartstrings. He feels very sincerely for her.

Chapter 6

They end up buying the karaoke machine and go back to Uta’s apartment. Taya calls his parents and tell them he is at a friend’s house. Taya supports Uta with her dream and teaches her the first steps to singing. They have their first singing lesson.

Taya is a bit shy with singing in front of Uta, but he is determined to be a good vocal coach. He looks back to the exercises he did with Ritsu in attempt to get over his shyness. As Taya sings, Uta recognizes his voice as “the sound that awakened her soul” back when she first came to Whimsica, but she keeps quiet about it due to being bashful.

It takes a while, but Uta finally figures out how to match pitch. She is able to vocalize simple tunes, but still has a long ways to go...

Chapter 7

The next day before first period, Teto sees one of the non-humanoid students in the school getting bullied in the hallway. The bullies are Lily, Mizki, Merli, and Galaco, the snobby girl clique. They are surrounding and throwing paper at poor Inuhebi, a cute, sluggish limbless creature with a snake’s body and a dog’s head.

Teto is a little apprehensive to face up to them, but knows she has to do something.

“Like, wow. Being fabulous is like, so last year.” Teto says.

“As if. Last time I checked, you weren’t exactly a notable figure.” Mizki says.

“Who needs to be? I’m so sorry you guys can’t just have fun without worrying about who’s on top.” Teto rolls her eyes.

“Shut it, clownface.” Galaco says.

“Yup, that’s me! I’m clownface!” Teto laughs. And laughs, and pulls out a horn and honks it and does a cheesy little dance.

“Ugh. Let’s get outta here.” Merli says.

Teto successfully chased away the mean girls.

Teto goes up to little Inuhebi and asks if he’s okay. Inuhebi isn’t hurt, but he’s sad because he can’t move very fast, and is bullied a lot and is usually late for class.

“Hmm... how about you be my buddy? I’ll carry you on my shoulder. We’ll always be together!” Teto said. “Then you’ll never be late again, and I’ll always be there for you!”

Inuhebi is so happy that he cries tears of joy. Teto lifts him up and lets him ride on her shoulder.

It turns out that Uta, Taya, Teto, Momo, Ritsu, and Ruko all have first period together, but they just didn’t notice before. Inuhebi also has first period with everybody. Teto introduces Inuhebi to the rest of the group, and they are now a group of seven.

“Oh yeah... you were the girl who made the kitchen explode!” Ruko says to Uta, remembering the previous day. Uta is a bit embarrassed.

Momo is the best cook in the class, so she offers to teach Uta a bit how to cook on the side. Taya is very great with cooking and baking as well.

Taya, trusting the others, tells them about Uta’s dream, but is vague about the fact that she is an android from space. Everyone in the group finds that they have an interest in singing in common.

“Hey, since we all like to sing, how about we start up a music group?” Inuhebi suggests.

“Sure!” Momo replies. “That would be fun!”

“That would be great!” Ritsu says. “But what will we name it?”

Everyone begins thinkng long and hard about it...

Chapter 8

Later that day, the group of seven go to the music store together.

Afterwards, everyone goes to Uta’s house and have a karaoke party session.

Uta feels awful and dejected however when it’s her time to sing, however. Everyone else sang so amazingly, and Uta can barely carry a simple tune at this point.

“It doesn’t matter how well you sing, Uta...” Taya reassures her. “It’s about being happy and doing your best. We all want to hear you.”

Everyone cheers Uta on. She takes a deep breath and begins singing “When You Wish Upon A Star” but messes up a bit and stops the music.

“I can’t do it.” She says, her entire body shaking.

“Uta, don’t give up!” Taya says. “I’ll sing with you this time. Will that help?”

Uta nods and tries to calm down.

They take turns singing lines from the song. Uta finally is able to sing the last few on her own. Taya comes in and harmonizes with, her and Uta is amazed at how they were able to sound together.

Everyone claps for both of them. It’s a wonderful feeling Uta wants to treasure forever.

“This moment resonates in me.” Uta says.

Chapter 9

(More stuff happens I guess)

Eventual Chapters

Taya eventually hears Uta practicing her singing by herself a lot. At first Uta is very upset and discouraged because she just can’t seem to control her voice well. Eventually, Tei Sukone, who bullies Uta and Taya, says Uta should just give up. “She’s just a robot, right?” Tei says. “Robots don’t have souls. They don’t have what it takes to sing.”

Uta feels deeply hurt and discouraged by this comment and considers maybe she wasn’t meant to sing. Afterwards, Ritsu becomes very angry with Tei... but he also has things to say to Uta as well. “Are you really going to give up just like that?” Ritsu criticizes Uta. “Don’t be so weak-willed!” Uta begins crying. Taya comforts Uta and tells Ritsu he was a bit harsh. Uta was already feeling hurt enough.

Uta doesn’t give up, runs off somewhere, and sings all day with bad technique and without any breaks until she passes out alone. Taya searches around town for Uta and finds her unconscious. Everyone is extremely worried. Ritsu gets a chance to apologize to Uta and says he just wanted to see her fulfill her dream and would’ve been as crushed as Uta if she were to have given up. He didn’t mean to be so harsh. Ritsu and the rest of Uta’s friends reassure her and recommend her to take breaks and exercise better technique.

Uta’s friends help her the best they can, and Uta begins practicing singing nearly every chance she gets, but this time with breaks and good technique. Taya can tell that Uta really loves music and is truly determined. Eventually he’s impressed and blown away by how far she gets. Even though Uta was never programmed to be able to sing, she eventually begins to develop a unique singing voice through hours upon hours of practicing painstakingly.

Eventually there is a part where Taya, along with the rest of the group of Uta’s good friends (Teto, Momo, Ritsu, and Ruko) are captured because they were accused of stealing (deforcing) “Defoko” away from the planet that produced her. Uta is taken back there as well, but she uses the combat powers she kept hidden for a long time to bust out.

Uta then fights her own creators with a power that is foreign (and deadly) to them.... The power of song! The power of love, and passion, and heart, and... joy! The evil aliens do not stand a chance against the power of Uta’s magical song and voice.

“Defoko! When the heck did you learn to produce a singing voice? This isn’t what you were programmed to do! Stop this madness, right this instant!” They tell her.

Uta does not give them mercy. They took her precious friends. They continue to manufacture androids that cannot feel joy. This needs to stop right now!

Uta ends up destroying the entire sinister operation, and also starts the dystopian planet Discord down its path to peace. However, Monochrome, the ultimate enemy in the story, still won’t budge...

After this feat, and rescuing her dear friends, Uta fulfills herself and unlocks her magical girl transformation. In Whimsica, magical transformations are unlocked when the user “fulfills” themself, symbolizing that they’ve overcome a difficult hurdle, accomplished a wonderful goal, or opened the door to their true self.

Now that Uta is fulfilled, she unlocked the power herself to be able to experience euphoria. All the other androids that were produced by her shady manufacturer also gained the ability to feel joy as well.

Uta had slain the chains in her heart and will live on happily with Taya and the rest of her friends.

“This moment resonates in me.” Uta says.

“Wait, that’s it...” Taya says. “Resonate... that’s a perfect name for our music group! We should call ourselves Resonate!”

Uta’s three siblings are also androids created by the same planet who admire her and want to be her siblings after she ends up saving them. They are related in a sense since they were created by the same “company.”

But this is not the end of the story with everyone.

Now it’s time for Taya’s story.

Taya hasn’t seen Saya for years... He is beginning to lose hope that she’s still alive...

Taya Soune and Saya Toune were childhood best friends who grew up someplace else. However, one day when they were both 12, Saya became depressed, and it was hard for Taya to watch his friend suffer. Some time afterwards, an earthquake hit the area and everyone had to take only their most important items and evacuate rapidly before a tsunami were to hit. Taya had to move to his current location, and had to leave Saya without saying goodbye. He never saw Saya again.

After this incident, Taya never got a phone call from Saya, or a letter or any hint she might’ve still been alive and out there. It wouldn’t have been unlikely that Saya and her family had died tragically in the earthquake or aftermath tsunami.

Taya is now left with a heavy, broken heart, and an intense fear of earthquakes. He is most torn apart that the fact that Saya had depression and the last few months before her departure to be so sad.

One day in the present, Uta, Taya, and the rest of the friend group are out at the mall. A song comes on that reminds Taya of his memories with Saya. He begins fighting back tears, but eventually starts sobbing and splits from the group, telling everyone he needs a moment alone. Everyone is concerned. Uta approaches Taya gently after he calms down. Taya then tells Uta about Saya, their story, and how much he misses his friend.

Uta is the first person Taya tells about Saya since he had moved. None of his other friends knew about the sadness he hid in his heart.

It had been years since Saya’s disappearance. Taya has pretty much lost all hope at this point.

Uta reassures Taya that he still shouldn’t give up hope. Uta’s words uplift Taya with a new hope that he had never before felt.

One day when Taya is feeling useless, Uta consoles him and tells him something she was too shy to say before.

“Taya, your voice was the sound that awoken my soul. When I first came to Whimsica, I walked past the karaoke cafe, and I heard you sing. It was the first time I had ever heard music. You sang so wonderfully, and I felt so warm. I felt then, that music was a truly amazing thing. It was you who changed my life Taya... So please, don’t feel sad.”

Eventually, it turns out that Saya is actually still alive. One fateful day, Taya and Saya reunite. Saya becomes a part of Uta and Taya’s group of friends.

11 notes · View notes

ghostmartyr · 4 years

Text

how a life can move from the darkness [2/?]

|1|

Brief summary before the cut: Two drug addicts (Eren and Historia) meet in group and decide to be roommates to make their living situation slightly less weird. From there we do the slow burn found family dance mixed in with the struggles and agonies of recovery. Heavy on friendship feels, especially EMA. Eventual yumikuri.

Frieda’s first real visit, where she was actually visiting her sister, not being their babysitter, ended with orders for them to invest in a pet. She didn’t phrase it particularly demandingly. She only said it once, and didn’t bring it up the rest of the night. She barely raised her voice loud enough to be heard over the stove.

She’d walked in on them during one of their mutual wall/ceiling viewing parties.

It was an order.

“No dogs.”

“Okay.”

“Or cats.”

“Okay.”

“Or ferrets.”

“Okay.”

Eren pulled his jacket tighter. The zipper was broken. He should have worn a sweatshirt. He walked down the sidewalk, foot hitting every crack and head wondering if his mom would have preferred a broken back to a broken heart. “Nothing that can get out and crawl around the apartment.”

Historia, behind the personal barrier that used to be the map to the pet store, said, “Eren, we’re getting a fish.”

“Oh,” Eren said. “Okay.” Pause. “Just one?”

“Do you want more than one?”

Eren wasn’t sure he wanted one. He wasn’t sure he wanted one of anything else, either. He mostly wanted Historia’s sister to worry less. He felt like he had two moms these days, and he was letting down both of them. “I… do fish get lonely?”

“Don’t know.”

That made two of them.

An hour, a very talkative employee, and five pamphlets later, Eren still didn’t have an answer to his question, and knew more about nitrate cycles than high school or Armin had ever bothered with. He also found out that the same yearly school field trip to the aquarium each year had taught him nothing about aquariums.

Pumps, vacuums, filters, water treatments, thermometers. Food. Tanks bigger than he could lift.

Armin would have loved this.

One text and he’d probably explain exactly what they wanted and what kind of fish to look for better than the sales guy, and ask if they wanted him to come help out in person with the selections. The trip wouldn’t be giving Eren a headache and he wouldn’t have visions of all the fish they were going to fail dancing in his head.

Armin wasn’t there, and Eren would have to read one of the hundreds of texts from him to find out if there was even a chance of changing that in this reality. Without hating himself so much he couldn’t breathe.

Historia was in the same leaky boat he was, so by the time the sales guy let them go with instructions to look around the store and figure out what kind of aquarium they’d like, Eren really had no idea why they were getting a fish. Besides the merit points from a successful purchase. If they pulled this off without anything dying, it would be like a giant neon sign announcing to the world that they were sort of functional.

The neon sign would not be going near the fish, because that screwed with the lighting, and that, according to the midpoint of their free lecture, would be bad.

“Did you have a breed in mind?” he asked Historia. The damp, weighty smell surrounding them made him feel like he was underwater and drowning. “Or a color?”

“You can pick,” Historia said.

Eren hadn’t met their new fish yet, but he felt sorry for it.

One of them had to put some kind of executive effort into this. Historia was paying for everything. That left him. He could handle walking around and figuring out which fish they were going to try like hell not to kill.

Sometime during their tutorial, they’d ended up in the tropical section. Everything was bright and smelled like the ocean. Eren’s eyes had spent the last ten minutes burning, and now that it was just him and Historia, he was having trouble keeping them from leaking.

Armin and Mikasa should have been there.

They weren’t, and they couldn’t be, and that was his own damn fault, and he didn’t want them there—

“Eren?”

He looked up from the stained concrete floor.

Historia had zoned back in, and was watching his clenched, shaking, fists. He tried to relax them. It didn’t work. He was standing in the middle of a fish store, trying not to cry, and he couldn’t hit anything because then he probably would kill a fish, and Historia being filthy rich wouldn’t fix how awful and pissed that would make him feel, and before he knew it he’d be back behind Zeke’s batting cages, hearing all of the offers the dealer was making and actually listening.

“Eren,” Historia’s voice said, firmly.

“Yeah.” His was too far away, somewhere under the waves of the ocean. But he blinked and he was looking at the bright colors, not the floor, and a quick swipe cleared the damp spots away from under his eyes. “Salt water’s okay, right?”

He could see her nod. Her footsteps followed him down the aisle, and he concentrated on looking at the damn colorful fish. He had no idea what to look for. The sales guy had set them loose with a happy smile, telling them that if they found something they liked, he’d help out with the step-by-step of what to buy first.

There were more steps to this than Eren ever wanted to think about, which probably meant it was healthy to try.

His eyes floated over to a tank on the other side of the aisle. Less colorful, and full of rocks. A lone fish roved back and forth inside, dark spines the size of his fingers swishing along with it. It looked like someone had chopped up a sea urchin and glued its spikes to a large brown goldfish with streaky frills. A lionfish, someone else’s happy voice reminded him, carrying the sound of hurriedly flipped pages.

He didn’t hate the thought of caring for one of those.

He walked over to the tank, crouching down to stare at the thing properly. The card sitting by the tank agreed with his memory. And the fish was too big to mistake for an art fixture. It looked like a real creature; a real pet, not just something to lock away and call personal growth. Alive and fierce. Frieda would approve.

“What do you think?” he asked Historia.

She watched the lionfish swish into one of its rock caves. They both did.

“Okay.”

By the time they were back in their apartment, and the giant tank with all its mixed water and pumps and gravel and sand and rock features was set up, and they were staring at it instead of a blank wall, Eren understood a little better why they were getting a fish.

He doubted it was the upgrade Frieda was aiming for. He also doubted they could do any better.

---

A week into cycling the tank, Eren found the will for the conversation he’d put off since moving in.

Eren wasn’t big on letting people take care of him. His mom could attest to that. To hear her tell it, the day he started crawling, he’d spent all his time crawling away from her. Bandaging his skinned knees as a toddler had taken an hour of convincing before he’d let his—

He didn’t like being kept, or treated like he couldn’t handle his own life. After rehab, he lost the right to that mattering. His mom wasn’t going to accept her grown son’s rent when he needed babying, and he didn’t have the energy to push past the shame and argue.

Things were different now.

He hoped.

Historia was his sponsor, not his mother, and he was hers. He’d seen the bill for their aquarium. Pre-fish (they were giving the tank a month before they picked up its resident). He’d lived in their apartment. He’d seen Historia throw things into their shopping cart without checking prices. She paid for it from a wallet full of holes, but she never cared about the cost or bothered with coupons.

He knew Historia and her family had more money than he would even know what to do with. He knew he couldn’t afford his share if they split it honestly. He didn’t care. He was an adult. He worked. He could help pay for his own sad life.

It was important, Petra had said once, to remember that they were still part of the world. Addiction was what kept them out of it; recovery meant finding their way back in.

That was one of the first meetings he went to. He’d broken a fingernail gripping his chair and acid had boiled up his throat. Petra’s cookies had been too soft, and he ate three to make the taste go away.

Things were better now. He was cutting up carrots for dinner in an apartment that he didn’t share with someone he had hurt.

“I want to start paying rent,” Eren said.

Historia, alternating between reading her textbook and watching a pot boil, briefly added him to the rotation. “I told you, you don’t have to.”

“I want to,” Eren repeated, wincing at the extra volume his voice picked up. “I’m not some helpless little kid who needs handouts. I can pull my own weight.” Even if he’d been happy acting like he couldn’t up until now. What the fuck was wrong with him. He kept talking, trying to skid over that thought before he crashed into it. “I can’t keep taking advantage of people.”

“You’re not,” Historia said. She leaned against the counter, frowning. “I’m the one who asked you to move in so I could stop worrying my sister. You don’t need to pay me for being selfish.”

“That isn’t the point,” Eren said.

Historia continued as if she didn’t hear him. “Besides, I’m not paying for any of this either.”

“That’s—look, Historia, I’d just…” Eren took a deep breath, because breathing exercises were supposed to help. They didn’t, but they were supposed to, and he couldn’t say some of the horrible things his mind came up with if he was inhaling. He screwed what was left of his useless courage and doubled down. “It would help my recovery a lot if I could help out with some of this.”

The words were terrible and lifeless, straight out of the meetings they both hated, and he should have stuck a thank-you somewhere in the middle, because he owed her everything for the help he was squirming out of.

Historia was looking at the ceiling. Her mouth was half-open, and Eren thought she agreed that he was back to saying all of the wrong things.

“My father’s paying for it,” she said quietly.

A block of ice coalesced in Eren’s chest.

“Oh,” Eren said, because even if she wasn’t talking about the dead one, she’d only ever mentioned the dead one before, and they both had dead ones and—he swallowed. Breathed. They’d never really gone over it, but Historia was easy enough to spot, and he’d gone to enough protests and rallies to know that blank silence was the worst thing he could do here, even if they weren’t talking about her. He smiled, jaw creaking with effort and soul cringing. “Your dad was gay?”

Timing meant he was expecting pain to get in the way of any relief. He was sure he was intruding on memories that weren’t any of his business, and even if he was trying to be a supportive friend, he was terrible at it, and they were now back to a place where he knew he’d be making things worse.

What he got was perplexed bewilderment.

“…What?”

He was definitely going to make this worse. “You—you said your dad was dead,” Eren said, slowly enough to be insulting on its own, “but your dad’s paying for the apartment, so that means you have—had, sorry—two?”

Historia stared at him.

She blinked, once, mouth forming a legion of unspoken words.

Eren, realizing he should have just shoved checks under her door each month, stayed standing awkwardly in front of the cutting board, waiting for the axe to fall and fervently regretting the lack of pills nearby.

“Eren,” Historia said at last, words warbling furiously, “my inheritance is paying for all of this. He put me in his will. Frieda wouldn’t let me—she thinks using it is good for my—” She looked across the room at the fishless aquarium.

“I’m supposed to spend it,” she said. Her mouth twitched, a muffled sort of chuckle escaping. Followed by another.

A peal of laughter whimpered from her lungs, ragged and horrified, and Historia was sliding down to the floor, hand pressed to her forehead while the fit of hysteria took over, giggles turning to honest cackles, tearing through the kitchen. Eren watched. He just stood there and watched.

Because she only had one dad, and she’d killed him.

He was dead.

The sob waiting in Eren’s chest came out wrong, not matching the horror and helplessness swirled in it, or the feel of blood warm in his hands as he tried to stop it all from spilling out even though it was too late, and he slipped down to the floor next to Historia, biting down on his thumb to keep from laughing.

By the time Frieda came by, bringing her weekly gift of ice cream, they were both crying.

---

Historia said they could work out splitting the fish costs and groceries, and there really wasn’t a reason to bring it up past that, so they didn’t.

Frieda didn’t, either.

Eren had the disturbing feeling that she understood.

---

Reiner wasn’t outside when Eren showed up for their run.

That was weird to start with. Reiner was as fanatically devoted to taking care of himself as he had been to heroin. Not just physically. He had a day planner. He’d offered to buy Eren one. The guy did not know how to flake.

Standing out in front of the house in Reiner’s usual spot was a woman Eren recognized from some of Reiner’s pictures. He’d flipped through them every single day of rehab, and Eren had wanted him dead.

He didn’t remember the woman’s name. She was scrolling through her phone when he jogged up, and the nod she gave him wasn’t very inviting. Dark circles shaded her freckles, but she was wearing workout clothes. Maybe Eren had missed a text, and he was helping out both of them today.

“Reiner still inside?” he asked.

“Yeah,” the woman said, pocketing her phone. “That’s where he’s staying, too. Bastard’s too sick to be conscious, forget running around the block.”

Too sick to warn Eren, too.

He was paying Eren. They were only sort of friends. Missing out on a run with him still made Eren want to crawl into the nearest hole and not come out. Reiner wasn’t exactly a bright spot to his day, but his day had started with a text from Armin. Reiner never made anything worse. Him and his normalcy had been something to look forward to when Eren woke up and threw his phone through his pillowcase.

World much gloomier than it needed to be at six in the morning, Eren said, “Is there anything I can help with? There’s a drugstore—” he wasn’t going to think about it, he wasn’t going to think about it— “a couple miles out I could hit for him.”

“Thanks, but I think Bert’s got the panicked nursing covered.”

Bertolt, Eren had met. He was usually watering the rosebush outside the house at the end of their morning run. “Great,” Eren said.

That left him… where? Needing to send a get-well text?

He made polite eye contact with Reiner’s friend. Like a person. “I’ll head off, then,” he said. “Let Reiner know today’s on me.”

The woman smirked at him. It might have been meant as a smile, but the glint in her eyes and Eren’s mood said smirk. “You have a side job exercising strangers,” she said. “Don’t volunteer to throw away money.”

Before Eren could point out that he wasn’t a dick, even if she was, she added, “Anyway, that’s what dragged me into this. Reiner thinks routines are part of the ex-junkie bible, and he didn’t want to screw you up just because he forgot to wash his hands. So I’ll be palling around with you this morning to assuage your mutual guilt complexes. You’re welcome.”

Eren had to unclench his jaw before he could speak. He wanted to go back to bed. He also wanted to go inside the house and wring Reiner’s fucking neck. The happy chittering of the birds sounded like cheaply ringing tin in his ears. “Reiner told you?”

Reiner told anyone?

Eren didn’t tell his friends that his client asked for makeup advice he didn’t have to cover up his track marks. He didn’t talk about Reiner’s lifelong fear of needles not holding a fucking candle to his snowballing drug habits. He didn’t breathe a damn word about any of it, not even in group, not even with the names taken out, because why the fuck would he do that to anyone.

“Don’t lose your head about it,” the woman’s voice echoed. “It only came up because he was already wetting himself over missing your appointment.” Her shoes thumped across the concrete, and Eren felt a slap against his shoulder. “He was worried, and hurling too much for his brain to keep a lid on why. He freaked out all over again when he realized what he said. He was trying to be a good friend, not an asshole. He just has a bad habit of mixing the two.”

Eren’s fingernails were digging into his palms. He had to concentrate to make them stop, but they stopped, and without the sting that said he broke the skin.

Deep breaths. The ones that never really worked.

“It’s fine,” he said.

“Right,” said the woman. He could feel her watching him. The scrutiny reminded him of the rehab shrink. Or a more hostile Petra. “Sorry. Usually I only bring up sensitive subjects on purpose.”

Eren didn’t know how much of a joke that was. He decided it didn’t matter. He reeled his head back to a zone where he knew how to handle all of this, even if he didn’t, reminded himself it was too early in the morning for him to shoot Historia a text asking for commiseration, and breathed normally.

“Do you need some time to stretch, or are you good to go now?” Eren asked.

The woman gave a one-armed shrug. “Feel free to run away from me at your leisure. I’m just here to take up space.” She watched him another moment before sticking out her hand. “Ymir, by the way.”

Eren shook it with as much heart as he didn’t have. “Eren.”

Her smile was all teeth. “Nice meeting you.”

----

Reiner wasn’t the only person who was sick, it turned out.

Eren knew he had to do something about the phone problem. This was a marked improvement from not thinking of it as a problem. He didn’t think he could steal credit for that. The outside world was screaming it at him. Armin had taken up regular texts like clockwork, and if that meant something was wrong, Eren didn’t know how to check without losing his mind. Being a fuckup and a coward would do that. Mikasa’s daily texts had never stopped. Hannes had gotten back to him about supervising some free climbers over the weekend. His first since his broken leg.

His pulse hadn’t dropped a beat when that conversation ended and a disaffected buzz announced a message from Zeke.

Zeke had barely spoken to him since the funeral. He’d walked him in and out of the rehab facility doors and left him alone. It wasn’t that different from the way things were before their dad died. The only change was him not dropping by unannounced to take Eren off on some adventure. If he’d tried that recently, no one had mentioned it. Eren wasn’t sure anyone had even bothered giving him his new address.

A text from Zeke out of the blue was a danger sign. Eren couldn’t just ignore it. He also couldn’t click on it.

Pacing the entire length of the apartment back and forth and back again, Eren could admit he had a problem. Step one. The last time that revelation had crept up and slammed him into a gutter, it was one of the worst moments of his life. This didn’t compare, but it left him feeling lopsided and tired. He couldn’t ignore his brother. Zeke had never ignored him. He had every reason in the world to, but he never had. Eren owed him.

He couldn’t open the damn text.

He made another agitated circuit around the apartment. His phone wasn’t set to tick down seconds, but they were playing back in his head fine without the help. He was rounding the couch, checking the aquarium and wishing they already had a fish to stare at—like that had a chance of helping, but maybe it did—when the loud clap of a slamming textbook stopped him in his tracks.

Historia, who he hadn’t noticed, was lying on the floor. Until a millisecond of time passed for her to gather her temper and she stood up from the rug, swept over, and threw out her hand.

Eren, who hadn’t come up with a better plan yet, gave her his phone. She almost took his hand off with it.

“Under Zeke,” he said. In case she mistook him for someone who had decided today was the time to finally go through and acknowledge the hundreds of unread texts Armin and Mikasa had sent him.

Historia scanned the screen in slow motion. “Someone’s sick,” she said, and visions of hospitals gone by and panic started up before she filled in the rest. “He wants to know if you can sub in for the game on Saturday.”

Baseball. No emergency. Baseball.

Eren breathed out, sighing. Relief was missing from it. He didn’t know why he had expected anything else. A quiet, petty hole that rehab hadn’t filled all the way was still waiting for Zeke to say something about what happened. He never would, and he was an ungrateful bastard for wanting more than what he’d got. What he’d got was more than he deserved. If Zeke never talked to him about anything but baseball, Eren would live with that.

That could really happen, too. Zeke loved baseball like he’d never loved anyone in his own damn family—

Eren moved to take back his phone before his head started something his fists couldn’t finish. Historia’s temper flare had vanished, and she dangled the device between them like it was the bomb about to go off instead of them. She made it look as large and unwieldy in her hands as it felt in Eren’s thoughts. He didn’t know why that helped. He wasn’t even sure if it did.

With how the day was going, Eren couldn’t be surprised when it buzzed with another text the second his finger brushed the casing. Historia jumped slightly, and Eren hated his eyes for catching the name on the screen.

Because Armin had started texting him again.

Great.

He was looking at the floor. Historia kept holding the phone. The bomb.

Great, great, great, great.

Eren could feel his breath shortening, his blood pumping faster, and he was supposed to be getting a grip and trying to be better than all of this and he wanted to break something. More things than he had the first time, or the second, or the third, or the twelfth, because all of those times hadn’t made the right impression, Armin was still trying, and so was Mikasa, and he was so sick of it, and himself, and Zeke, and—

“Have you ever been to a batting cage?” Eren blurted out.

Historia took a moment to answer. “What?” she said.

“Batting cage,” Eren said, feeling a tension headache building. “Have you ever been?”

“No?”

Ten minutes later, Eren didn’t think he felt a whole lot better, but nothing was broken, he hadn’t hurt anyone, and Historia wasn’t complaining about the sprinters’ pace they were walking down the sidewalk at. He didn’t think that last one was a point in his favor. She hadn’t given him his phone back. It was still a good thing. Someone was around to keep him from being stupid.

He led the way with a nervous energy that he hated. He knew how his body was supposed to work. It wasn’t a natural like Mikasa’s—and that turned the notch up on his leg speed one more time—but he’d spent time on it, and he knew how he liked to move. Purposefully. With real energy that came from the core. Not nervous sweats and clenched fists.

There were two batting cages within walking distance of their apartment. One, neither of them needed to be anywhere near. The other was fine, and normal, and open until midnight. Glazed lights decking a row of fence were visible from the street. The padded green of the fake grass stapled to every inch of the facility’s floor wasn’t. Two pairs of feet thumped across it to the cashier’s window out front.

Eren forked out the cash from his wallet to the drowsy employee manning the entrance before Historia had a chance to object. They marched on through without a word.

It was cool and dark outside, even with the glare of the lights, and Eren stuffed a helmet on his head from the rack and grabbed a bat before his thoughts slowed down enough to race in coherent circles. He couldn’t hit people anymore, but he sure could hit objects.

Historia was still trailing behind him, and she’d never been and he would help with that in a second after he took care of him, and watching was where it all started anyway it wasn’t like he was that great with words like—

He smacked the start button. His other hand clasped the bat, touching metal where the glue had peeled away from the grip. He raised it over his shoulder, a million lessons from a man who looked too much like his father coursing through his veins, and he was holding a metal pole and watching the blood spurt over it and his hands and

and

He remembered to hit the emergency stop and he made it to the trash can. That was the important part.

Fuck.

He didn’t know where the bat was, but all his hands were holding was the plastic bag around the rim of the trash can. His head was dipped down next to a collection of empty Styrofoam cups, gum, and vomit. The acidic burning in his throat waited for a swallow. The rest of him stayed still, waiting for the next hit.

That hadn’t happened before. He’d thought of it happening, but it never did. He hadn’t thrown up since he bet Jean he could drink an entire case of soda in first grade. He won. His mom still had a special sigh for that stain on the carpet.

Eren pulled himself out of the garbage. His knee was shaking. Badly enough to bring up more problems, so he sat down on the fake grass and let it scratch his fingers. He swallowed through the burning, and pressed a fist to his forehead.

Fuck.

Footsteps approached. Another cup showed up by his head. Not empty. Eren took it and sipped the water, and it was just like any other workout.

The only thing he could think of that would make it any worse was if he started crying, and he felt like he was going to.

Historia sat down next to him.

“Do you… want to talk about it?” she asked. She sounded like she was reading off a script. She was still holding his phone.

Eren hated his fucking phone. He wanted to throw it into a landfill.

He took a breath, and another sip of water. Besides the phone, which could go to hell, the hate felt cooler. Like all the lava out under the sky was turning into something solid. He’d liked Armin’s volcano phase. It’d been his phase, too. Like with the dinosaurs, and that one summer with pelicans.

He’d kill to be talking to Armin about pelicans right now. Instead he was sitting on a batting cage floor, the only support system he was strong enough to bear sitting right next to him instead of studying for her test like she was supposed to, and his lips were covered in drying bile, and he’d killed his dad.

Admitting he had problems wasn’t too hard when they were this obvious.

Eren opened his fist and dragged his hand through his hair.

“Do you have anyone?” Eren asked quietly. “That you have to make amends to?”

The answer was instantaneous, and not much of a surprise. “Frieda.”

Eren twisted his bangs around his fingers. Only a little of him wanted to tug it all out by the roots. “Not family. People you screwed up because they liked you and liking you meant they were around when you fucked up your life. Friends.”

Historia didn’t say anything for a whole minute.

“No,” she said.

That one was more of a surprise. It shouldn’t have been, because she was his roommate, and he had a pretty wide window into her life, but it was, and now Eren felt like even more of a dick. He dropped his hand into his lap and silently added Historia to his list. Maybe she’d be one he could actually cross off.

He didn’t know what to say next, because ‘sorry,’ was more of a distraction than he could deal with while being this useless, but as long as he was sober, he wasn’t the kind of person who wanted to just leave that bombshell alone.

Historia took pity on him and sighed.

“I had a fiancée in juvie.”

Eren blinked. He lifted his head. “You can get engaged in juvie?” he asked.

“You were in juvie?” was close behind, and he felt stupid enough thinking it to avoid saying it, because no matter how tiny she was, saying he had trouble picturing his drug addicted, father-murdering roommate doing time was…

“It’s not something you have to fill out paperwork for,” Historia said, continuing blithely on. “It’s just a promise. Words.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. She was older, so she got out before I did, and after that, I never heard from her again. We never even—” Historia stopped herself. Her eyes shut. “She probably didn’t even mean it. It started as a joke.”

It didn’t sound like it came from any sense of humor he’d known. Historia wasn’t laughing. Neither was Eren. He took another sip of the water she’d found him before he crushed the cup and it spilled all over his jeans.

“She doesn’t even know my real name,” Historia said, almost inaudibly. Her blinks sped up. “She was gone before my drug habit could disappoint her. She would have—” Historia snorted and there was something dark and chaotic in her smile.

“She would have killed me.”

This was a joke she got. Eren didn’t.

They sat in silence for a few moments, sitting on the scratchy fake grass. Eren spotted his bat on the floor next to the open cage.

“I have these friends,” he said, “that I don’t know how to…”

Trailing off was as close as he could get to articulating it. Historia could probably figure out the gist by living with him. Tonight wasn’t the first time his phone had caused problems, it was just the first time he’d made them her problem.

“The text before we left looked like some sort of science fact-a-day,” Historia said. “Frieda has a subscription to a few things like that.” He could feel her watching him. Months of feeling like everyone was watching him had honed the sense. “He’s probably copying you on them.”

That sounded like Armin. The perfect way to start talking without saying anything.

He waited for anger to spike with the thought, but he just felt tired.

He looked at the baseball bat. Historia followed his look.

“Zeke’s my half-brother,” he said. “I owe him, but if Saturday’s anything like this I’d be better off not showing up at all.”

Historia said, easily, “I’ll fill in for you.” Like any of his friends would have after he dragged them out of their apartment in the middle of the night to have a panic attack in front of them.

Being too stubborn to admit that he needed help was what had gotten him here. He didn’t want to stay. He didn’t think anyone wanted him to.

“Have you ever played baseball?”

“No.”

Zeke was going to love this.

---

Zeke did.

He’d also shaved.

Eren hadn’t seen him without a beard in years. It was weird, made him look like he belonged at some sort of board meeting, and every time they made eye contact Eren needed a second to find his brother in the face.

What he didn’t find, and what he’d been scared of seeing, was their dad.

He didn’t know if he was allowed to say thank you. They didn’t really do that. Zeke hadn’t said anything about Historia showing up as the sub for his sub. He was grateful, since the tiny adult baseball league was his entire life, and he’d be heartbroken if he missed out on any of it, but he didn’t say it. Not with Eren. There was just this quiet expectation that it would all work out, because they were brothers. No thanks necessary.

Not being the one playing, Eren had too much time to think about that.

Now, after the game, sitting across from his brother at the pizza parlor Zeke had selected instead of the bar he’d taken his team to every game day for at least five years, Eren was still thinking about it.

“Your roommate doesn’t have a bad arm,” Zeke said. “Do you think she’d want to join up?”

“You’d have to ask her.” Historia had gone outside when Colt ordered a beer, and he didn’t know if she’d noticed that Yelena had spent the entire seventh inning stretch and drive over asking too many questions, but it was mostly going okay. She’d caught a fly ball and gotten a hit, and their team won. They’d both had worse days.

“I might, if you can’t play.”

Eren’s hand tensed around his drink.

Zeke wouldn’t ask. Somebody had shown up, so he wouldn’t ask. Eren still couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew. Even if there was no way he could. Zeke was like that. Hide and seek had turned into a banned game the nights Zeke babysat. No matter how hard Eren tried, Zeke always found him, and his mom had gotten sick of coming home to him exploding in frustration.

Eren wanted him to ask. Zeke came to Eren instead of hitting up Mikasa when he needed a sub. He cared. Eren wanted to feel it instead of just knowing it, for once.

He was an ungrateful brat, in a lot of ways.

Zeke paid for the pizza. Historia eventually walked back in and sat with them. Zeke asked about school, and rock climbing, and what they thought about the batting order they’d tried.

He didn’t ask about Eren.

Which was fine. What would he have said, anyway? He was ghosting his best friends in the world while they tried to keep him in their lives. He didn’t get to miss his big brother for having the brains to stay out of it all.

[next]

#drug au #fic #mine #long post

11 notes · View notes

yamithediaperdork · 4 years

Text

Cry baby and Pee pants, part 1 (Digimon)

Matt cussed loud and long as he searched though his locker and the dressing room for the 5th time. The young blond had been trying out for a band, hoping to launch his music carer after more or less calling it quits as a digi destined, after barely keeping Tokyo from being blown up by a rouge digimon. This was actually his 6th audition, his young age and well, not exactly stellar skills on the guitar meant that he was told thanks for trying out, but he wasn't right for any of the bands till now. The leaping lizards had gushed over the raw talent being there, and had welcomed him on board, even pouring him a couple drinks of sake despite him being underage to celebrate. The last thing Matt recalled before waking up five hours later was them laughing at how stupid he was and.. Giving up the search, he had to finally admit the truth. they hadn't ever been serious about their offer to join the band and had just wanted to steal his guitar, a newer model and worth at least 300 bucks even being pawned. 'I suppose I should feel lucky I woke up with both kidneys.' Matt thought to himself. 'But how the fuck am I suppose to try out for the lone wolfs in two days with no instrument?' There was NO way he'd be able to get his parents to get him anther guitar, he'd had to basically break out the water works and plead on his knees for a month to get the last one. His antics had earned him the nick name of cry baby around both his dad's house and his mom's, and TK still wasn't letting it go and would ask if baby wanted his ba-ba. That left asking the others for a few loans, and most of them weren't too pleased he'd given up the hero game for fortune. Joe was blowing all his money on his studies anyways, Izzy on computer junk.. Sora and Mimi had been giving him the cold shoulder and he knew neither Kari nor TK would have the cash. '...I wonder if Tai's still hella gay?' Matt though, a Cheshire grin coming across his face. the always needy boy kisser had been good for getting a few video games before and junk, it was like 20 minutes of gay stuff like smooching and cuddling and then a little shopping spree AND Tai had just come into a fat wad of cash after a uncle that adored him had left him a big hefty inheritance. 'I can gay out for like, a hour for this.' Matt thought and getting his bag (and of course finding his wallet dry) he headed towards home, thinking about getting a even better guitar then before.

Tai was shocked when Matt called him the next morning, asking if he could meet up. After Matt had ditched the team only Tai and TK made any real efforts to hang with him, and TK only because they were brothers. In truth Izzy was giving Tai a hard time about it, but since Izzy was being a little bitch about a lot of things lately Tai just ignored his on and off again boyfriend. 'I mean, I was willing to get him that new computer he wanted and he couldn't rock a pamper butt for me? RUDE!' Tai thought and huffed. It was Tai's new fetish, and one he'd discovered by mistake when googling more on that Willis kid and finding out the little cutie had a website set up to show him modeling in diapers. Naturally seeing that Tai had begged and pleaded with Izzy to try out diapers but apparently Izzy had been a late bloomer and had only recently gotten out of daytime diapers before their whole adventure started. Naturally this had only made Tai wanna diaper him more, but again, Izzy was being a little pecker head about it. (at least from Tai's point of view.) 'heh. if Matt is expecting a little shopping spree today..he's in for a surprise. the boy is gonna earn it.' Tai thought, and went and checked on the supplies he kept under his bed on the off chance he lucked into a diaper boy. there they were, 2 packs of the diaper brand Willis recommended on his site, nice and thick, and a few onesies along with a changing pad and pacifiers and a baby bottle. 'Oh yeah..come onnn Matt..be desperate for money~'

Matt made sure to wear a nice tight sleeveless top and a pair of tight jeans (So tight he'd needed TK's help getting into them.) and made sure to spike his hair just the way that Tai liked it. TK wasn't dumb though, and knew what Matt was doing. "Looking good for your sugar daddy Cry baby." He teased and winked. "Your lucky Tai's expecting me, or I'd give you the noogie to end all noogies." Matt said, raising a eyebrow. it was just the two of them at their mothers apartment at the moment and TK used to know better then to push his luck when it was just them. "Mmhhhhmm.. your dadddy calls and cry baby Matt comes running. maybe HE'S gonna give ya yer ba-ba~" TK giggled. the giggles died off as TK saw the look on Matt's face, and when their mom would get back she'd find TK hanging by his undies from a nail on the wall. "...pushed cry baby too far again huh?" she asked, smirking and taking off her jacket. "Y-Yeah..uh..a little help?"TK squeaked. "Righttt after I put the groceries away.. think of this as time to reflect on watching your mouth." mom said and walked away. "B-But my undies are so far up my crack i can taste themmm!" TK whined. "then I don't need to worry about lunch." came the reply. "...Funny fucker aren't you." TK huffed under his breath, crossing his arms. "I hear that!"

Making his way to Tai's Matt got more then a few looks from both guys and girls, and likewise, a few wolf whistles. He ignored them for the most part, but had a smirk on his face knowing just how sexy he looked and soon was knocking on Tai's door. Tai gave him a once over as he opened the door and Matt smirked, he was almost drooling. "So, Like what you see?" Matt asked, and flexed a arm. "heh, Oh yeah. so gonna stand out there and look hot, or come inside and tell me what you want?" Tai asked, standing aside and gesturing into the apartment. "Don' worry, Kari had a school thing out of town and mom and dad are with her.I have you allll to myself." Tai added, slapping Matt's ass as he walked past, making Matt yelp and blush. Still, Matt knew what was expected of him for the most part and just flashed Tai a grin and blew a kiss. 'fucking bastard! he knows i hate spanking stuff!' Matt fumed. Matt went to sit down on the couch by Tai had closed the door and taken a seat in a arm chair, then patted his lap. '..He's totally getting me the latest guitar if he keeps this shit up.' Matt fumed, but walked over and sat on Tai's lap,putting his arms around the bigger boy. Matt might of been taller, but with all the sports that Tai played he had a bulked up look and was pound for pound much stronger. "So, You normally only get THIS dressed up if you want something, so what's my little Mattie need?" Tai asked, cradling Matt in a way that Matt recognized as using back when TK was toddler. "I..I uh..I have a band audition coming up..but some jerk's stole my guitar..and um.." Matt swallowed and then batted his eyes at Tai. "I was wondering, hoping if maybe you'd get me a new one.I've been practicing my kissing and we can cuddle and stuff for like, 2 hours even!" "heh. Well that IS a tempting offer. doubly so when your cute ass is in my lap. but I have a boyfriend if I just wanted to make out with a cutie. and Izzy is willing to go all the way." Tai chuckled. "O-Oh..but..I uh..I'm not..you...know..I'm.." Matt stammered. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna make you suck dick or take it up the poop chute. and I WILL get you whatever kinda guitar you want for your silly little audition which by the way is when?" Tai asked, kissing Matt's forehead and making alarm bells go off in the blond mind. "I-It's tomorrow at 3 pm sharp. And..what do you want then?" Matt asked, a nervous twitch to his voice. "Oh nothing too much. something really easy actually." Tai said and smiled. 'Bullshit' Matt thought but kept the smile on his face. "and that is?..." "For every say.. 20 dollars I spend on your little guitar I get one hour with you being my darling little diaper boy." "..What?!"

Tai smirked as he got ready to put Matt back into padding. the blond was looking huffy as fuck, but was keeping his mouth shut all the same, likely trying not to blow his semi good deal. Tai of course fully understood WHY Matt wouldn't be happy with the deal, but couldn't help but tease the impending little uy a little bit. "Awww come on widdle Mattie, can't you give daddy a smile? Your making daddy think you don't wanna do our widdle deal." He he teased, reaching over and tickling mat''s chin while the blond sat cross legged next to him. "...Your a sick man, you know that?" Matt asked, but he was grinning all the same, though whether it was from the chin tickles or humoring him Tai couldn't be sure. "Flattery will get you everywhere." Tai said with a wink, and as he finished getting the changing pad (with a adorable teddy bear print) set up and the changing supplies ready, he looked over Matt's jeans as he tugged out 3 of the thick puffy diapers. "So, are gonna be able to get out of those by yourself? they almost look spray painted on." Tai asked. "I can totally undress myself!" Matt huffed and stood up, unbuttoning the jeans and sliding his thumbs into the belt loops and tugging. And tugging some more. and then more tugging as they didn't budge. "You were saying?" Tai asked, in a clearly delighted tone. "..Shut up and help me get these things off." Matt huffed.

Matt was crimson after they FINALLY got his jeans off, partly due to the fact it had taken 10 minutes of effort, and well, needing Tai's help to undress. Not helping matters was the fact that Matt had chosen to go commando and well, liked to keep it shaved down there. "Awww somebody was a good boy and knew what was coming and saved daddy some time!" Tai teased. 'oh shut the fuck up!' Matt thought. "Yeah, let's go with that." was his sulky reply. Tai had oddly grabbed a razor blade all the same and cut silts in the back and front of two of the three massive diapers he was planing on putting on Matt, making the blond give his impending 'daddy' a weird look. "It's so when you go tinkle, the wetness is shared and you can go longer in your diapies. Same for when you go boom boom." Tai said cheerfully. THAT had caused the blush to leave Matt's face, at least for a little bit as he paled. "W-Wait.. you mean..you want me to.. uh.. go.." Matt stammered, and the blush returned as he struggled to say the words, then hissed and blew a raspberry. "in my diapers!?!" "..Ok that was hella cute. and Yup, I'm even gonna be nice and let you use them all on your own for today, though if I don't like the results I'm seeing I'll be sure to get you some potty med's to help." Tai said and winked, then patting the changing mat. "come on Little guy, let's get your diapies on and then you can sit in daddies lap while we order you a guitar so you can make music for daddy." "But..I thought we were going and getting one today!" Matt whined. "Oh, does somebody wanna go out shopping in his diapers? So bold!" Tai teased. "NO! I just..uh.." mental images of Matt waddling around in the big bulky diapers, holding Tai's hand and sucking his thumb flooded his mind and he started to squirm lots even as he laid down on the changing pad. "Don't worry. I'll pay for rush delivery. if we get it in town it'll be here by this afternoon. Maybe I'll let my little exhibitionist answer the door." Tai teased, and grabbed the first diaper. '...I could really go for anther glass of sake right now.' Matt thought and lifted up his butt like a good boy.

Back at the apartment TK was having pain fueled day dreams of all the times his undies hadn't of been lodged up his crack and wished his mom would hurry up and come and get him down. Not helping the whole situation was the fact that he had a growing bladder issue and any attempt's to shift around and relive the pressure there only made the undies ride up more. His mom had gone from putting things away to excuse herself to the bathroom, an like she was the worlds greatest comedian she'd told him not to move, and to hang in there. TK had wisely kept his opinions of her humor to himself as he had a sneaking suspicion that his earlier comments had helped extend his wedgie time. Still as the need to tinkle grew more and more TK couldn't keep quiet. "MOMMY! I hafa go pee! if you don't wanna clean up a puddle you needa get me down NOW!" He called. the bathroom door opened and Nancy walked out, smirking. "Why didn't you say something sooner wedgie boy?" she asked, taping a finger on his nose. "...You were just waiting in there!?!" TK shouted and huffed, crossing his arms and glaring. Sadly as his attention was focused on his mom and being mad at her, it was diverted from where it needed to be. "Well you were being a little brat an-" She started, then looked down as a hissing noise was heard and looked at the growing wet patch on the front of TK's undies, and the puddle that was starting to form on the floor. "Really?" "T-This is your fault!" TK huffed even as she grabbed him under the arms and lifted him down, though holding him away from her so she didn't get any pee on her. The flow was weakling and stopping as she got him on his feet, turning him so he could add to the puddle while not standing in it since he was in socks. (not that they weren't already wet) "Mhmm.. Well go and finish in the bathroom and clean up." She said, rolling her eyes then noticed a super guilty look on TK's face. "The..flow DID stop because you got it under control right?" She asked, a smirk tugging on her face. "Er..well..see.." TK said, rubbing the back of his head and chuckling nervously. "Go grab a shower pee pants, and meet mommy in your room. you know the rule for pant's wetters in this house." She said and turned away to go and get the mop and bucket as TK whined. "MOOOM! NOT THE PULL UPS!"

Back at Tai's and Matt was powdered and tapped in his triple thick white diapers, and squirming like crazy as he looked at himself in the mirror. Tai had tugged off his shirt so at the moment Matt was JUST in his white socks and white diapers, and he couldn't even close his legs! and as bad as it looked from the front, once he turned around and looked over his shoulder it was WAY worse in the back! He hadn't of even been able to get to his feet without Tai's help (well, he was gonna use Tai's bed to pull himself up but Tai had insisted daddy was here to help) and to say he was waddling was a massive understatement. "So what do you think little guy?" Tai asked, coming up behind him and making Matt look front ward in the mirror again, kissing Matt's cheek as he patted Matt's fat diapered bottom. "...I feel like I'm gonna knock lamps off of end tables, and there should be a beeping noise when i back up!" Matt whined. "heh, cute idea. I'll see what i can rig up for your next diaper day with daddy." Tai chuckled and kissed Matt's cheek. 'I need to stop giving him ideas.' Matt mentally groaned. "Can I at least put my shirt back on or something? or you have some shorts I can put over these? I wanna try and cover the diapers up!" Matt whined. "oh, You're just in luck little guy! Daddy DOES have something to go over your adorable huggies." Tai said. The old familiar warning bells were going off in Matt's head as Tai went and reached under the bed, and pulled out two onesie's, or as Matt called them, diaper shirts. One was light blue with a yellow trim on the sleeves, neck and leg hole, and had a yellow star on the front, that had a smiling face and said 'daddies little star' under it in yellow text. the second one was a white one with a dinosaur print all over it, and Matt fought the urge to facepalm. 'I really need to start watching my goddamn mouth.' he thought. "So buddy, what do you thin? wanna be my widdle star, or a dino boy?" Tai asked. "Gee, they're BOTH so tempting." Matt said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. If Tai noticed though he didn't show it and just nodded instead. "You're right, I'll pick for you." '...REALLY need to just keep my effing mouth shut!'

In the end Tai went with the little star onesie, though he'd over estimated just how thick he could go and still use them as it was a bit of a fight to get the crotch snaps to close. "I think after we get you your little guitar, we'll go shopping and get more cute outfits for my widdle musician." Tai said. He could tell Matt was less then pleased, but the boy forced a smile on his face and nodded. "whatever you want ta-" he started to say. "ah ah ah, when your butt is in diapers, it's DADDY. Got it?" Tai said, wagging a finger and smirking. "..Yeah OK." Matt replied, rolling his eyes. "yeah OK what?" Tai questioned, the grin getting bigger. "...Yeah OK daddy." Matt said, smiling but clenching his teeth. Tugging Matt over/ helping the padded cutie keep his balance, Tai sat down in his big comfy computer chair and tugged Matt into his lap, giving the big baby's neck a kiss. "Now did you have a certain store in mind, or just want me to google and shop around?" Tai asked.

11 notes · View notes

powerdragonmoon · 4 years

Text

Claws and Effect

Chapter 1 - No Touch Me

Kacchakoweek2020 - Day 1: Villian AU

Bakugou Katsuki has a second quirk but no one knows. He’s determined to keep it that way. Bakugou Cat-suki AU

I’m dipping into the BNHA fandom with Kacchako week! Wish me luck!! I have two stories I’m going to try to write snippets for using the prompts (this first one is a pretty loose interpretation of Villain AU, but bear with me!)

(ao3 link)

Uraraka yawned as she shuffled down the stairs, making her way towards the common room. She reached a tired hand up to her disheveled hair in an attempt to clear it from her face and quickly gave up. It was either very late at night … or very early morning. Uraraka wasn’t too sure but she was awake now and hoped a quick stroll to the downstairs kitchen for a glass of water would help put her back to sleep.

She paused at the threshold to the common area, noticing a light of the television flickering across the room.

There was a cat on the couch.

Uraraka blinked.

It was the cutest cat she had ever seen.

The cat’s eyes met hers. Its wide eyes narrowed and it looked almost offended to be interrupted. Was it watching the TV? she wondered as she turned to the television. It was playing a cooking show. On the screen a chef skillfully cut through the body of a red snapper, expertly butchering the fish.

She was either dreaming or just really really tired. Whichever it was she burst out laughing, bringing her hands up to cover her mouth—pinkies up so as to not add to the absurdity of the scene and float to the ceiling. Of course a cat would be watching a show about sushi.

When she glanced back at the cat, it was now definitely glaring at her. Uraraka’s eyebrows rose in shock.

Had Koda brought in another pet? She didn’t recall hearing about it, but she thought about his cute little bunny made her wonder if a bunny and cat would be able to get along. Just the thought alone made her squee to herself just imagining how adorable the interactions could be!

Collecting herself with a wide smile, she slowly approached the couch and the cat immediately hissed. Uraraka balked at the tiny creature. It was so small, it seemed more appropriate to call it a kitten if anything. It’s pale fur was long and wispy, and it looked so soft, despite the way it spiked chaotically in clumps along its small frame. It must’ve been about seventy-five percent fur; a little cloud of fluff. She wanted to pet it so bad.

Uraraka wasn’t too well versed with the various types of cat breeds. She had friends back home with pet cats but she never had one. When she was younger she had asked her parents over and over for a pet, a cat being at the top of that list, but it was always something that they ever got around to, most likely due to their financial situation and Uraraka eventually stopped asking.

Not wanting to spook the little kitten, that looked so small on the large green couch, Uraraka tip-toed her way towards the kitchen. With the light of the television and the brightness of the moon shining through the window, she was able to make her way through the dark room. Still, the cat kept its eyes on her, tracking her movement. Its pupils were so wide and dilated, Uraraka couldn’t even make out their colour.

She couldn’t help herself, even with the intimidating look on the cat’s face, she just had to pet it. Her hand reached forward gently, hoping it was welcoming as she made her way back to the couch.

“Pspspspspspsps” she whispered. “Here kitty, kitty.”

The cat stood up, hackles rising. It’s little tail puffed out behind it as she inched closer and closer.

Perhaps she was testing her luck. The poor little kitten was probably acting out of fear. It was just so teeny tiny. Of course it would be frightened by some stranger approaching it.

So it shouldn’t have been a surprise when the kitten swatted at her. Its sharp little claws scratched across her palm.

“Oh you little—!” Uraraka jumped back. This was definitely not a dream as a sting of pain tingled against her skin. She let out a string of curses, not having to hold back as no one but that damn cat was there to witness her unfiltered language of profanities. Perhaps it was a habit she had picked up on the many visits she had taken to her parents construction sites or maybe she had been hanging out around Bakugou too much and had somehow managed to have absorbed the violent boy’s choice expletives without even noticing.

Either way, the cat seemed absolutely ecstatic at her reaction or it was just preparing to bite her as it bared its teeth at her in a way that looked like a rueful grin.

“Little fucker,” Uraraka glared at it, muttering under her breath as she moved to the kitchen. “You’re lucky you’re so damn cute!” she said over her shoulder. She turned on the lights and went to the sink to run her hand under some water.

The scratch wasn’t very deep in the end, just a superficial wound that looked more painful than it actually was. The cat was just skittish, maybe it was just a stray that had somehow found shelter in their dorms. Poor thing.

Feeling a little (a lot) guilty, Uraraka opened the fridge, trying to think of an appropriate peace offering for her new acquaintance. She poured some milk out into a bowl before grabbing herself a glass of water.

When she turned back towards the living area of the common room she realized the TV was off now. Had she imagined it being on?

“Kitty,” she whispered, looking at the empty couch. “Cute kitty! Where’d you go?”

She continued pspspsps-ing around the common area, bowl in hand but the cat must have left or was just really good at hiding. Sighing, Uraraka eventually gave up, yawning as she stood up from looking under the dining tables.

“Okay kitty,” she called once more, placing the bowl on the floor. “I’ll leave this here for you! Good night!”

Uraraka made her way back up to her room, pausing before she reached the hall to the stairs. She glanced down at her hand and the little cuts running perpendicular to the lines of her palm, sprinkled with small beads of blood.

She closed her hand into a fist to stop the bleeding, it would be easy enough to clean up once she got to her room. The memory of the cute, little kitten still fresh in her head, she wondered where it had gone. Was it scared and lonely? Was it lost? Even as tired as she was, she felt a sudden flow of determination run through her. She was going to try her best to figure it out (after a few hours of sleep). But paramount above all else she had one main goal in mind.

Next time she saw that cat, she was going to pet the hell out of it.

-------------------------------------------------------

Bakugou waited, counting out the minutes after he had heard the stairwell door finally close. Once he was sure she was gone, he stretched, leaping out from behind the TV and resettling himself on his spot on the couch.

As he moved, the crack and shift of his bones echoed with an unbearable itch under his skin. All he knew was that in this form it was minutely easier to deal with, especially late at night, when sleep evaded him.

His mistake was thinking that he would be the only one up at this hour to come down to their dorm’s common area. He could only hope that Uraraka would wake up in the morning with no memory of their encounter. But with his luck, it would have been more appropriate for his shitty secondary quirk to transform him into a black cat at this point, but no he couldn’t even have that. Instead his quirk allowed him the power to shift into a small as fuck, shitty, little kitten. How lame.

His stupid tail flicked in annoyance and he glared at it. In this form his sweat wasn’t even the same, completely negating his explosion quirk. It was awful. He lifted up a stupid paw, hating the stupid little toe beans that faced him. He groaned, but it came out as a pathetic mewl, further adding salt to the wounds on his ego.

Finally deciding he wasn’t going to stay in the common room any longer, Bakugou stood up on his four legs, jumping lithely from the couch. When he rose back up, he was on two legs: two human legs. He rolled his neck, flexing his shoulders as he tried to feel at home in his own body. The odd itch in his bones that had manifested within him along with this lame secondary quirk just years ago had only increased day by day. Nothing he did—short of transforming into his kitten form—seemed to quell the ache. And he refused to have to rely on being a cat for hours every day. He had more important shit to do, especially if he wanted to be the next Number One Hero.

But it didn’t matter, the pain was manageable for now. He was just being a weak little bitch tonight and had given in despite his better judgement. No matter how bad it got there was no way he was going to let anyone know about his shitty, kitty powers. The embarrassment alone would ruin him and becoming Number One Hero with kitten powers? Villains would laugh their asses off. No one would be able to take him seriously.

He walked over to the bowl of milk Uraraka had left on the floor. She was such a slob. Granted he may have gone too far in scratching her, but he had warned her with his hissing. It was her fault if she didn’t know when to back off.

What was she expecting? For him to suddenly warm up to her with the offer of milk? To lap at the bowl like some common house pet? Fuck that. Besides, he tried to avoid eating while in his cat form anyways, he didn’t want to risk any dietary limitations in this puny body and he sure as fuck wasn’t about to eat cat food or some shit.

Whatever.

He just needed to stop using this quirk. Just ignore it until he forgot about it. And luckily Uraraka would forget about this whole night too.

Grumbling to himself, he poured out the milk into the sink, washing the bowl quickly. Once his hands were dry, his palms started sparking out of irritation. Bakugou made his way back to his room, knowing he had a few hours of rolling around restlessly in his bed until dawn.

Surprisingly, that night, sleep wasn’t as difficult to reach as he had expected. In those few short hours, he dreamt of soft hands and padded fingers running through his fur and for a moment, the ache in his bones was gone …

Only for it to come back tenfold in the morning when he awoke.

#kacchakoweek #bnha #kacchako #kacchakoweek2020 #bakugou katsuki #uraraka ochako #bnha fanfic #boku no hero academia #bakugou cat-suki #mha #moon writes #villian au cause catboy is rood and scratched round face bean #powder writes #mywriting #my writing

24 notes · View notes

justimajin · 5 years

Text

A Lone Wolf’s Howl ☾ Part 10

⇾ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

⇾ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Action, Eventual Smut

↳ Werewolf AU

⇾ Words: 5.4k

⇾ Warnings: graphical descriptions of violence and blood, some elements of horror for this part

⇾ Summary: Jungkook and you have been like two peas in a pod for the majority of your lives; whether it was going through the ups of downs of the horrid teenage change, to transitioning to the racing world of attempting to be adults. Simply put, you’ve been inseparable and glued to each other’s sides longer than you can remember. But one fateful day seems to completely change everything you had faith in and you begin to wonder if there was ever a time where you and your best friend even knew each other’s true colors.

⇾ Moodboard Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11(M)

The firm strings in your hands are crossed, tightly looped together against the leather of your black boot. With a low grunt, you lower your foot onto the ground roughly and steal a quick glance from the mirror.

Save for the sliver in your eyes and the golden sword gleaming in your hands, your reflection only projects pitch black to you. Satisfied, you take a delicate step outside your room, eyes hastily flickering in opposite directions.

“What would it take to destroy an entire clan?”

Jungkook immediately gets up, a collection of alarming words ready to spew out from the tip of his tongue. On the contrary though, Namjoon raises a silent hand.

“A tremendous amount of energy,” His eyes stare at you with sharp intent, “and something we shouldn’t think towards. Without proof, we can’t take a step forward in the wrong direction.”

“It’s not in the wrong direction though.” You counteract, voice raised, “All the clues are leading up there!”

Namjoon lowers his voice, his eyes turning soft, “Proof is always key Y/N. It would be disastrous to fight against Crimson blinded.”

He sighs, noting down your resistance, “Putting down any lingering feelings isn’t easy, but it has to be done. We need to be careful with every step we take.”

Although there’s a layer of defeat inside your eyes, Namjoon is pleased to see a slight nod from both you and Jungkook with the matter.

You huff a breath, the grip on your sword increasing.

“I will be careful.”

Taking a swift glance behind you, the steps you take down the stairs are careful, walking down the loose wood boards with short breaths. The dark path before you is illuminated with your sword, waving it slowly around as to not trip and fall down.

You let out a sigh of relief once you luckily reach the bottom, silver eyes glowing when they trail around the several rooms in cautious silence. Thankfully, soft snores greet you back from each and every one, but then your eyes latch onto a particular room – one that you know wouldn’t settle down easy with you if you had simply left.

The door to Jungkook’s room creaks when you push against it, stepping in right away as the slight noise is to your advantage. Your eyes trace over every corner of the room, contorting in puzzlement when his bed is completely empty.

“What...?”

“Looking for someone?”

The scream that’s prepared to leave your throat is unruly when his voice is only mere centimetres away from behind your ear, thick with sleep. You instantly spin around and he covers your mouth once he recognizes the familiar wide-eyed expression on your face. He offers you a sheepish grin, black hair tousled and eyes drooping, as if he was sleeping just moments ago.

Staring at him with those same wide eyes, you wrench off his hand from your mouth and place a hand against your racing heart, “You scared me Jungkook!”

“I scared you?” He scoffs, glancing at you bewildered, “If you keep screaming like that, my ears are going to end up being permanently damaged one day!”

Rolling your eyes, his eyes trail up and down on you, his face only lit from the faint glow of your sword.

His voice drops into a playful tone, “Why are you walking around like a silent ninja in the middle of the night?”

“It’s not a silent ninja!” You harshly whisper, offended, “I’m dressed in my slayer clothes!”

“That’s what you’re carrying this guy around?” He points to your glowing sword and chuckles, before the realization sinks in and his eyes are suddenly widening, “Where are you going Y/N?”

You lower your sword with a sigh, “Out. I just came by to say goodbye.”

As you turn around, he latches onto your arm, “Wait.”

You meet eyes with him, and he gives you a serious gaze, “You’re not planning on going to Crimson…are you?”

You don’t say anything back and that’s all he needs for confirmation, “Y/N, Namjoon said not to!”

“I know!” Your voice spikes up and Jungkook looks at you startled, still gripping onto your arm. Glancing at him with regret swirling in your eyes, you let out a deep sigh, “I have to go Jungkook…I need to see what’s going on with my own eyes.”

Jungkook grows silent for a moment and you suspect he’s going to speak up again, form any type of reasoning as to why he believes this is a horrible decision on your part. Unexpectedly though, Jungkook eyes hold sympathy in them and his next words send you in for a surprise, “It’s not letting you sleep, is it?”

You furiously nod, hoping he would understand. He slowly releases your arm and you’re relieved you didn’t need to explain much to him, however, that’s when his following words settle in, “I won’t stop you, but I’m not letting you go alone either.”

Words of protest are ready to escape you, prepared to let him know that he didn’t need to come with you at all for his, but he gets dressed in a flash and all of the remains of sleep left in his eyes disappear.

Reaching out for your hand, a warm smile spreads on his lip, “Come on.”

You take it with hesitance and his eyes flash gold.

“We’ve got a slayer base to infiltrate.”

***

Once the two of you leave the wolf quarters, the number one concern you had was how you were possibly going to get all the way to the Crimson Clan’s base. Luckily, Jungkook was quick to dispel all of your worries, shifting into his wolf form and offering you a front-row seat on his back. You were hesitant at first, thinking it seemed strange and not accustomed to interacting with your best friend when he’s morphed into his larger wolf counterpart, but you trust Jungkook and you’re glad you did.

His human form is fast, but his wolf form is ridiculously fast, running at such a speed that has you tightening your hands around his neck and bracing for dear impact. However, along the way, you find yourself enjoying the ride, liking how the breeze was weaving through your locks and how you were speeding by everything within seconds.

He eventually comes to a halt, stopping a shy couple of metres away from the large fields. You slip off his back, carefully strolling forward to examine the place.

Nothing has seemed to change, the same oak homes surrounding the small grounds, the very grounds you used to once train upon. The air is quiet but it's warm, just like you had remembered it.

You turn back to Jungkook, whose wolf expectantly peers at you as a way for you to answer if he had followed your directions accordingly. With a nod, he instantly shifts, standing up as he straightens out his back.

“Have you put on some weight Y/N?” He questions, tensing up his shoulders and rocking his head side to side. Your mouth drops open, not expecting the first thing for him to say after shifting to be that.

Shaking your head, you let a small smirk grace your lips, “I was staying with wolves, did you expect me to be in shape?”

Jungkook side-eyes you at that, before he stands next to you and takes in the building. Thankfully he had listened to your advice and dressed in all black as well, as it was easier to camouflage yourselves and not get caught so easily.

You cautiously walk closer to the oak homes, gesturing behind you for Jungkook to silently follow. Slayer guards are surrounding the entrance, searching around with their swords out in case of any intruders but you smile when you effortlessly navigate Jungkook into the hidden passageway only a handful of slayers knew about.

You drop down onto the ground roughly and Jungkook tumbles in as well, quickly rising on his knees as his golden eyes search around. The room is pitch dark and you recognize it immediately as a simple storage room, where the majority of your clothes and weapons were kept.

Jungkook walks closer to some of the swords, inspecting them, “Those are craved swords.” You explain, “The Elder makes them herself and then gives each slayer their own.”

He hums, before turning to you and you slowly tread over to the door, opening it to view only a small crack and seeing a group of other slayer guards coming into sight. Jungkook kneels down, whispering in a low tone, “So what’s the plan?”

“I need to see the Elder somehow.” You explain, eyes still locked on the opening as you patiently wait for them to move into the next hallway, “But I can’t reveal myself before her.”

Jungkook frowns, “Why not?”

You quickly glance at him with a somber smile, “I’m part wolf now, welcoming me back with open arms isn’t going to be a thing.”

His brows furrow, “That’s awful.”

“That’s how slayers operate.” You say with a sigh, “Coming back dead is better than coming back as a wolf. At least you’ll be honoured.”

Jungkook grows silent at that but you hurriedly turn to him, “The one part I wasn’t able to pinpoint was how I was going to talk to the Elder without revealing myself. I can’t get proof if she can’t speak to me.”

“Oh,” Jungkook says, racking through his mind for an idea. “I don’t know Y/N, Namjoon’s usually the one that does all of our planning before we do attack.”

“You all sure trust him a lot.” You state, eyes latching back onto the opening.

“We do.” Jungkook sincerely says, pushing forward when you raise an eyebrow at that, “When I first transformed into a wolf, I was terrified with my new powers and couldn’t control them as well, but then Namjoon accepted me into his pack and trained me. He’s taught me everything I know.”

You hum, a little surprised that Namjoon would do so much for him, “When did you turn into a wolf?”

Jungkook sheepishly looks down, “I kind of went through the whole process during the time I met you…I didn’t want you to be hurt because of what I am, so I kept it a secret.”

There’s a trace of surprise in your eyes, yet they warm up to his words with a light chuckle, “I guess we both had our own secrets to hide.”

Jungkook laughs, “Yeah but your secret involved a giant sword with it.” He clasps his hands together, staring at them before he moves to observe yours, “How does that thing even come out from here?”

You take your hand away with a playful frown and his eyes are still clueless, until you finally catch sight of the empty hallway and quickly usher him to follow. There seems to be no one around you, so you quickly spin over to Jungkook to fuel some of his curiosity.

“This is how I do it.” A smile is in your voice when you mumble the repeated words and light pierces through your hands, causing Jungkook to walk closer in awe. The golden sword emerges for a moment, before it fades with a mere whisk away of your hands.

“That isso cool.” Jungkook whispers, but then he pouts, “I wish wolves had something like that.”

You’re close to mentioning how his powers had honestly amazed you even more, however that’s when your mind travels to where you’re exactly standing at the moment and you decide to keep moving forward in the ghostly hallway.

The air starts to grow heavy and thick with every passing minute, an eerie feeling to the hall that causes your heart to pound faster. There are occasional creaks from the oak floor and some howls from the wind outside, along with the small lamps lit along the tiled walls being your only source of light.

It’s just as you remember it, but the daunting atmosphere and icy chill weren’t present before.

“Y/N…” Jungkook whispers behind you, echoing the same thoughts in your mind, “I don’t mean to be rude but…this is kind of creepy.”

You faintly smile at that, reaching out to lightly trace the tiles with your fingertips as you walk, “It’s supposed to be home.”

But it doesn’t feel like it.

There are no fascinating intricate designs that the packhouse has, no spirals of staircases that branch off into cozy rooms and no voices softly murmuring from door to door. There’s no vast library with an expanse of books to choose from and there’s no broad field that you can freely train at, only a place that feels closer to prison and supposed fellow slayers that always fall short from a humble greeting with one another.

It should be home to you.

And yet, it feels much farther away than you can grasp.

A narrow opening comes into view and you widen your eyes, notices the faint lines on the oak right away like the back of your palm. Suddenly a flood of faded memories hit you – a smaller girl with a rather big sword by her side, waving it around to impress with a smile on her lips when a hand pats her on the head. A girl that holds onto that sword for dear life, learning that it would one day help her destroy the same group of people that took her parents away, that the sword would act as an extension of herself and make her stronger so she can face them with full control.

The same girl that had been given false hopes so that one day she could fight.

With a sigh, you glance at Jungkook over your shoulder, “The Elder’s Room. I figured we could find some answers here.”

Jungkook nods and you carefully enter the confines, searching for anything that could help you. As Jungkook goes through a stack of books kept to the side, you rummage through the closet and search around the clothing.

You don’t seem to find anything useful, only a mere handful of old torn slayer scrolls and some discarded knives. Reaching farther though, your fingers meet with glass and you frown for a split second, opening up your palm to grasp onto the solid object. You pull it out, only to view an old frame containing a picture of two women.

Jungkook notices you inspecting the frame and glances over, “Who is it?”

“I’m not too sure…” You whisper, tracing over their faces when you feel a wave of déjà vu hit you, “I think–“

The floor rattles beneath you, causing you to quirk an eyebrow and to kneel down to faintly touch it. It doesn’t move and you frown, standing up and wondering if you should just brush it off. However, that’s when it shakes again, the volume only raising until it turns thunderous and it completely opens, sucking you right in.

“JUNGKOOK!” You shoot your hand out and he instantly chucks a book out of his hands, dropping down onto his knees and grasping onto your hand before you can fall down.

“What the…” He whispers, looking down to the see the large dark hole that your body was being encased in. Gritting his teeth, he tightens his hold on you, but his hand begins to strain, “Y/N…I-I can’t…”

You start to slip out of his hands, and he knows he won’t be able to hold you for long, so he quickly makes the decision of grasping onto your shoulders and letting himself sink down with you.

***

The first thing you see is complete darkness; cracking open your eyes only to be greeted with no sight. Turning your head slightly upwards, you can see a familiar opening to the closet that leads to your current path and you shift to get a better view, only to hear a groan from beneath you.

“Jungkook?” You whisper, attempting to get off of him but he keeps a firm hold on your hands.

He lets out a small cough, his chest rapidly falling and rising before he tugs himself up and shakes the dust away from his hair. Suddenly a low scream pierces through the air and you instantly cling onto him, gripping his shirt as he encases his arms around you.

“W-Where are we?”

“I don’t know Y/N.” He says, having the same confusion in his voice as you. Glancing up at him, you see his eyes morph into gold, scanning the area around you until the colour flickers away with a sigh. “I can’t see anything either…”

“Hold on.” Tangled words spill out of you when there’s a flash of light between your hands, yet it fades out just as fast as it resurfaced.

“What?” You grit out, attempting again only for the light to vanish once more. Although you can’t see him through the dark, Jungkook stiffens beside you and reaches out to wrap his arms around you.

Carefully holding onto you, he rises from his feet and you stay close to him, taking cautious steps as you attempt to figure your way around the place.

“Y/N?” Jungkook quietly questions, placing his hand on your trembling ones that you don’t even realize were shaking.

“Sorry.” You hate how the mere presence of the room is already terrifying you so much, but its something Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind at all.

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure this out.” You know you can’t see his face, but you can already tell he’s smiling, “I guess coming here alone doesn’t seem like such a great idea now, does it?”

He chuckles and a small laugh bubbles out from you too despite the hollow circumstance. “Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

“Thank you, for coming,” You stop in your tracks, “Really, I wouldn’t want to be in here by myself.”

The words are genuine, laced with a layer of pure honesty when you had originally thought you could handle all this. Although you and Jungkook had been through a lot, a part of you is so incredibly relieved that he came with you within a heartbeat and you know just having him around makes you feel safer by tenfold.

He doesn’t say anything back, instead, he reaches down to interlace your hands. Tightening his hold on you, he tugs you in closer to him, “Come on.”

Jungkook leads you forward as he tries his best to navigate around the room, padding his hands against the wall for some sense of direction. You stick behind him, occasionally wincing whenever a distinct scream is heard and flinching when the room begins to drop down in an eerie icy temperature.

To your own much-needed relief, you come across an exit that Jungkook inspects, before he tugs you along with him. It thankfully leads to many more lights, but it leads to a spiral of tunnels in multiple directions that has your head twisting and turning.

Unconsciously, you slip your fingers out Jungkook’s hand and start stepping towards one of them. You stop for a split second, narrowing your eyes.

“What is it?” Jungkook catches up to you, vision landing in the same direction.

“There’s something…” You whisper, “Something about this one.” You take another step forward and then keep going as Jungkook trails behind you.

You soon begin to hear small mumbles, voice intermingling in a language you can very clearly understand, and it only causes the pace of your walking to speed up. It leads you into a similar-looking room you and Jungkook had stumbled into, hollow and dark.

“Here?” Jungkook questions and you nod, wondering if perhaps you had accidentally gone in the wrong direction.

“I thought I was hearing voices from here...I- “Suddenly, Jungkook breaks out into a cluster of coughs, staggering down onto his knees.

“Jungkook!” He covers his nose, the violent coughs only escalating as his eyes begin to water.

“The s-smell…” He chokes out, his voice coming out as a growl and causing you to be in unease.

“Smell?” You wonder, sniffing to see if there was anything strange in the sorts by coming up with nothing instead.

Jungkook suddenly lets out a ragged breath, causing you to whirl around and your breath instantly hitches.

His eyes are completely feral, twisted with gold as his sharp canines poke out from his mouth. Your eyes look down to see his hands have entirely morphed into claws and how one of them still tries to cover his scrunched-up nose.

“J-Jungkook…” You whisper, slowly drawing closer to him when you’re not even sure how to react seeing him like this. You’ve seen him as a full wolf before, but you’ve never seen him like this – an odd combination of his human and wolf traits.

Jungkook heaves out a breath, water still escaping his eyes, “I-I’m fine…” His voice comes out much deeper and raspier, “Let’s just keep going.”

You nod, carefully holding onto his arm that is slowly being covered with his caramel brown fur by the second and searching for a way to get out of the room. You had honestly wanted to look around once before you had left, but with the sudden reaction Jungkook’s just had, you’re not really sure if that’s such a good idea.

Before you do, the same voice you heard emerge again and a crease forms in your brows, searching around until you land upon a small window-like opening in the far corner of the room.

You glance over to Jungkook, who’s also noticed it despite dealing with the smell and he gestures for you to check it out. Bringing him alongside you, you attempt to catch a peek at what was possibly going on, the conclusion only leaving for your eyes to be twisted up in horror and for your breath to get caught in your throat.

It might have been that your sense of smell isn’t as great as Jungkook’s wolf, but now that you do finally catch a whiff of it, you can understand why Jungkook reacted in such a way. The stench is similar to something decaying, the flesh rotting piece by piece as you cover your nose and mouth when the need to gag starts to emerge.

Getting past the horrid and putrid smell, the unsettling image before you cause your chest to tighten even more – taking in the multiple wolf bodies on the ground. Their black lifeless corpses, unmoving and deformed, all contributing to spelling out one very simple message for you.

“Rogues.” Jungkook whispers, his voice getting stuck between utter horror at what his eyes were seeing and yet understanding that you had truly stumbled upon something that you were originally doubtful of.

You want to look away, the imprinted image of the decreased beings and the ever-growing stench telling you that remaining there wasn’t going to make it any better. However, now you have proof on your hands that both you and Namjoon had desired, it's enough to inform you that there was something deeper and darker settling behind the scenes of your precious home and clan.

Turning to Jungkook, who quietly observes the wolves next to you, you cast away your eyes from the corpses when the need to leave erupts from you. Before you even get the chance to do so though, a familiar language begins to enter your ears and to your own shock, a hooded figure steps in the centre of all the decreased wolves.

It’s a mantra you’ve never heard of before, only being taught a handful of them during your slayer training. The words are distinctive, making them feel familiar but each syllable being contorted to the extent that it sounds like rubbish and yet makes sense at the same time. You don’t dwell on it for long though, because suddenly your eyes are widening even more than before when the corpse’s eyes begin to light up, slowly getting consumed with black smoke.

Your heart begins to drum viciously in your chest and when one of the wolf’s eye sockets roll over to look directly at you, your hand instinctively shoots out to grab onto Jungkook. “We need to get out of here.”

Jungkook nods, eyes hurriedly searching around as you take slow steps backwards, eyes still latched onto the way the wolf’s eyes shine like coals and how each one of their limbs slowly being to tug upward as the life spreads through them. You squeeze your eyes shut as you shake your head, moving away from the window completely to follow after Jungkook. However, much to your own dismay, you soon discover that Jungkook is nowhere to be found.

“Jungkook.” You quietly whisper, tracing your footsteps back out of the room and thankfully away from the horrible smell, only to see him completely gone. You suppose he’s left to find a way out, but a part of you wishes he didn’t leave you alone there, wanting nothing more but to get away from the impending words being recited in the nearby room.

With a slight huff, you make your way back through the hallway, recalling how you had chosen the path out of instinct and although you now have solid proof of your clan’s ways, you wish you didn’t figure out the discovery like how you had done. Within all this, you continuously call out for Jungkook, growing more and more worried by the minute.

Eventually you do stumble upon him, luckily in the spiral of halls and far from the room as you return. His back is facing you, gazing at the several other rooms and you wonder if he’s searching for the way out.

“Jungkook!” You exclaim, jogging faster over to him.

Your fingertips faintly brush over his wrist, but you don’t grab on right away. You simply stand there, eyes flickering in brief shock until you take slow steps away, retracting your hand away completely.

Your wide silver eyes become cold, and when he turns around you fist your palms, demanding for an answer.

“Who are you?” You sharply grit out, watching how your best friend’s eyes are no longer the warm human brown or the brimming wolf gold you’re accustomed to, instead swirling with black clouded smoke.

You, quite frankly, don’t expect an answer, which is why your hands begin to brim with a bright flash and suddenly he’s lunging for you.

Your back harshly hits the wall, the air supply to your lungs getting cut off when his hand tightens around your neck. Harshly gasping for air, tears well up in your eyes and you squeeze them shut, putting as much force as you can into your leg as you kick him right in the shin.

A string of coughs leave your throat once you meet with impact against the ground and you slowly look up, eyes tracing over the being that is Jungkook right now when he gets back up again. With trembling hands, you know you can’t conjure up your sword if you even wanted to, so instead you opt-out on using the orange mist that radiates out from your palms.

His hands are entirely morphed into claws when they come after you again and all you can is a blur when he tries to rip your throat out or when he tries to bind your hands together. Although you’re able to do enough to block all of his impending attacks, you wince when his claws graze against your shoulder, leaving trickles of blood to roll down.

You will your hands to glow brighter and you continue to defend yourself, attempting to keep the mist within your hands as a way to not injure him. Suddenly a familiar door comes into view and your eyes widen, quickly pushing him away as you hurl yourself towards it.

The door creaks and multiple pieces of woven metal are strung along the walls when you reach out to grab one. Much to your own dismay, it doesn’t swirl with the same energy your own sword does, but when the door comes flying open, you know you don’t have a choice at the moment.

He trudges in, having the same sick, dark feral look twisted in the innocent, warm eyes you were too used to peering into. Fisting the carved metal tightly in your hands, you raise it up high and grit your teeth.

“Who are you and what have you done to Jungkook?”

Jungkook, no, this being, smirks. He tilts his head to the side and gives you perhaps one of the most devilish grins you’ve ever seen. It only serves to send shivers down your spine, and when it looks back directly at you, it lunges forward with a growl.

Sucking in a deep breath, you swing the sword’s hilt down and hit his arm, only for him to grab your leg and pull you down to slam against the ground. The sword slides away from you in an instant and when you try to push yourself off the ground, a firm hold on your leg doesn’t allow you to.

With a grunt, you whisper, “I’m sorry Jungkook.”

A hard kick lands right against his arm, freeing you entirely and letting you glide over to the sword. The being comes after you again, but it receives a flash of orange against its legs, causing it to stagger down.

“You didn’t answer my question.” You rise up, ignoring the way those cold black eyes made your heart sink to your stomach, “Who are you and what have you done to my Jungkook?”

For a split second, you could have sworn you caught a glimmer of gold in his eyes, a call for help trying to desperately reach out when your eyes flicker and you instinctively take a step forward. That’s when it catches you off guard, his eyes stinking back into the black and letting you pay an irreversible cost when a pool of your own blood begins to collect on the ground.

You let out a harsh gasp, eyes blown up when you can only stare at him as your hand reaches over to your scarlet stained stomach. Tears begin to form in the corner of your eyes when you see the trickles of red run down his arm, a wolfish grin on his features.

This is not Jungkook. You remind yourself, eyes latched onto him when he stands right in front of you, This is not your Jungkook.

Your bottom lip trembles and you scrunch up your eyes, feeling every pang of pain radiate throughout your body. You feel yourself being lifted up in that moment, a hand slowly digging in your throat when you start to lose air by the minute.

“Don’t make me do this…” You quietly say, hot tears streaming down your eyes as your voice cracks, “Please, don’t make me do this Jungkook…”

His hold tightens, only a mere inch away from the mark he’s created on you.

Your cheeks are entirely drenched when your hands spark orange and for a moment, you just remember.

Jeon Jungkook.

Lord of meme faces.

Ruler of the infamous white shirt and jeans combo.

And undeniably,

The best friend you had fallen in love with.

Before you stop breathing, before you fall into darkness, you whisper the words you’re afraid will be left unsaid with a soft smile.

“I love you.”

A hue of orange flashes and your eyes fall shut.

240 notes · View notes