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#something about new beginnings when you don't fully recognize yourself anymore
summertimemusician · 7 months
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Linktober Shadow Day 3
Twilight
Definitely self indulgent, just a small thing I managed to throw together after a sleep deprivation filled day.
My Twilight Princess lover side definitely comes out on this one, as well as some vague headcanons in a short drabble, as always can be read as platonic or romantic.
There was something special, you think, about the way autumn came in a howling moonson of glory into the Era of Twilight, heralding the coming of the temperate strokes over the woods in flowering tones of russet, bronze, maple and amethyst in gilding gold over the evergreen of Hyrule’s eternity in warmth even as the weather turned ever colder, the late afternoon sunset fleeting in it’s mercurial transition into the hour of twilight, only matched in honor to the abandoned forests of the Era of Sky, the enduring wealds of the Era of time and the untamed thickets of the Era of Wilds. Oh so contrasting to it’s hero but no less lovely for it was a perfect balance, when you first met Twilight (or well, got properly acquainted, really, but that’s a story for another day), it was clear he was no less captivating than his homeland, as steady as the oaks and pines stretching towards the heavens and with the kindness of it’s people, was it any wonder then, that you found it easy to love the man with the loyalty and eyes of wolf to match the divine beast in his soul?
So it was why through a long, long period of trying to make the true extent of your feelings as unseen as a dream after waking hours and trying to hide just how enamored you had slowly become, that you became well acquainted with the tells that showed something weighted on his mind as you left Ordon’s Spring after washing Epona for the long road ahead tomorrow. The way his head hang just a little, ears lowering to match the way Wolfie’s would when he gently nudged one of the members of the Chain into holding him after a nightmare as his walls attempt to come back up, as solemn as a wolf in mourning.
Ever so responsible, ever steady. Trying to take the world onto his shoulders as any hero would.
He should have know it wouldn’t work on you, not after all you’ve been through.
“Rupee for your thoughts?” Your tone gently broke through the stillness of the stream as you fed Epona an apple, Twilight’s ears twitch as he turns towards you, softening as he notes the way the twilit enchanted sunlight lingered upon your visage in a most ephemeral way, shadows holding affectionately and brightening the stars of your eyes and the liminal nature of this moment and how Epona neighs, gently nudging the side of your hand for more rubs or maybe apples he knew you loved sneaking to her when he wasn’t looking, making your airy, fae like laughter free to be taken by the breeze.
“Reminiscing, is all.” He answer you, tone a low rumbling of the fall winds and like handling mirror shards into something new and beautiful as he privately holds onto the memory of your smile, holding it with claws and teeth for he can never quite be sure for how long he’ll have it, “It feels like a lifetime ago since...”
Since the start of his journey, since the beginning of his new one in the throes of attempting to settle in Ordon to lick his wounds after the lingering shaded reality of another realm settled into the crevices of his soul and marrow after grabbing the neck of the beast inside his being and biting down onto the hackles had left the injury open to bleed again.
Since losing Midna shattered his heart and killed him all at once, leaving him to live a life of haunting his own existence until you looked at him, all of him, and guided him back to life. Picking the shards of his heart and slowly putting them back together with the care of someone he’d seen mourn for an unfortunate nightingale on the road even as you cut yourself when he attempted to push you away.
You nod, gently resting your head on his shoulder, your gaze flicking to the Shadow Crystal, you don’t press about Midna and Twilight feels so, so warm, breathing out, you were both working on it, slowly but surely. Midna may not be dead, but he knew her absence left you haunted too, “Does it still hurt?” The twisting of reality upon his form, drawing from a well of ambition from long gone spirits who’d attempted to grab at the Goddesses throat, and the way the darkness so fiercely claimed any part of his he could touch. Making both of your shadows darker as the veil between worlds thinned, refusing to allow anything else to attempt a claim.
He shakes his head, gently putting his chin atop yours, “No, not anymore.”
You hum, gently nudging his chin in a sweet, adoring nuzzle, “I’m glad, then.”
You both remain on the spring until night falls, basking into one another’s presence and soaking into the timeless moment of learning to love one another as you can.
Twilight silently wishes that, just this once, he’s allowed to keep this the same way the Twilight Realm still keeps the old him.
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444tsumu · 3 years
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title Not His Type
rating ★ ★ ☆ nsfw content
word count 4,800+
warnings timeskip!mattsun, yes i’m writing that he still practices w the s4, anyways explicit content, matsukawa calls you a bitch, spitting, rough sex, spanking, mattsun fucks you in his car, oral sex (f!reader giving), don't be silly wrap your willy folks
author’s note thanks to @kansroji for forcing me encouraging me to write this self-indulgent mattsun fic, send her her flowers everyone bc this was just muah :*
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summary Issei teaches you that the meaning behind the words ‘I hate you’ is a lot different from what you’re used to.
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“God, do you ever shut the fuck up?”
“How could someone be such a bitch?”
“I don’t know Mattsun, you tell me.”
There are two things necessary to keep the world spinning on its axis: inertia, and the insatiable hatred between you and Issei Matsukawa.
No one quite knows where it came from. Maybe it was your lack of regard for his permanently disinterested personality, or maybe it was the insufferable habit you had of making a comment every time Matsukawa did as much as make a noise— whatever it was, it was a never ending cycle of pure repugnance.
His tone was light, yet knowing Iwaizumi, you knew it was wavering on a more strict tone you really didn’t want to hear today.
Oikawa watched the interaction between the three of you, eyes narrowing as he did something nobody appreciates from him: he started plotting.
Oikawa watched the interaction between the three of you, eyes narrowing as he did something nobody appreciates from him: he started plotting.
To you and Issei, the nature of your relationship was that there wasn’t one at all. There was nothing but an indescribable hatred that will never go away because you guys just physically can’t stand the other.
To everyone else though? In Hanamaki’s words, “you guys just needed to fuck and get it over with already.” Sexual tension couldn’t fill half of the void the storm you and Mattsun left after every exchanged word. It nearly swallowed the room, the only two not able to see it being yourself and the middle blocker.
With an inquisitive look on his face, Oikawa decided the only way to get rid of this long lasting rivalry being now or never. “My dear Y/L/N, bad news.”
The words brought you back down to Earth, making you bite down a glare at the bored man in front of you and turning towards the setter.
“As much as I’d love to be the one to take you home,” he winks at you, long arm reaching out to lightly press itself against your cheek and you already see where this is going, “I just can’t—”
“Tooru..” Your voice wavered the same way Iwaizumi infamously did.
“Seriously Y/N-Chan, I hate being the bearer of bad news..” The sparkle in his eyes made you clench your jaw to prevent the scream from slipping through your lips. “But I had almost promised Iwa-chan and Makki a ride today.”
You could hear the slick in his voice, and you absolutely hated it. You hated how you knew exactly what was being planned. You knew in Oikawa’s stupid little head, he was formulating a stupid little plan thinking things would work out in his own stupid little way.
“I’m not getting into that fucking asshole’s car—”
“Oikawa I will purposely crash if she as much as steps foot in my car—”
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“Get your fucking feet off my dashboard.” You hear his voice growl, long fingers reaching in front of him to press the Start-Stop button on his car and get the engine running.
You didn’t mean to press a sock-covered foot onto it, it’s just that you needed to adjust the anklet resting against your skin. You hadn’t caught when his eyes glanced over at the diamonds either, remaining for a second too long to be appropriate and quickly force it’s way in front of him.
With a slightly exaggerated roll of your eyes, you threw your head against the headrest and stared through the window to your side. You were wishing there was an awkward silence to torture Matsukawa’s ears, but instead, his phone automatically connected to its Bluetooth and began to play a song you surprisingly recognized.
He drove faster than you were sure he was supposed to. As soon as you blinked, he had already backed out of Seijoh’s parking lot and sped through the secluded roads and towards the city you inhabited.
Unwillingly, of course, you managed to steal a few glances at the brown-haired man next to you. His face was (surprise) as uninterested as ever, eyebrows resting dully above his hooded lids and lips turned just slightly down enough to look like a frown. Every now and then, his lips would go along with the song and his tongue would swipe across his bottom lip and into the corner of his cheek.
Matsukawa wasn’t an ugly guy. There wasn’t enough hatred in your soul to even try to lie against the idea. He was extremely tall, extremely fit, had a nice smile, and his voice matched his looks. If he wasn’t such a stuck up, emotionless asshole, he’d probably be one of the hottest guys you’ve ever seen. If and probably, of course.
“Gotta staring problem?” He muttered, head bobbing to the song in the background and that in itself just brought your cholesterol an unhealthy amount higher.
“Shut the fuck up.”
“I see you have a lack of vocabulary too..” The banter between the two of you went back and forth, an awkward silence retching the car’s air after he sadly had the last word.
“I can’t believe there was a time you weren’t such a nuisance.” You nearly mouthed, words quiet enough to get lost within the lyrics of Kanye West, yet loud enough to get into Mattsun’s earshot and cause the car to abruptly park on the side of the nearly secluded road ahead of you.
“Hey, what the fu—”
“What’s your problem with me?” Matsukawa’s words haunted the air, and if you weren’t already awaiting his words, you might have actually been scared of the harshness in his tone.
“Me?” You questioned, using a hand to dramatically smack against your chest and glare at him in disbelief. “What’s your problem with me?”
He didn’t respond, only staring at you blankly and gripping on the steering wheel with enough aggression to taint the knuckles of his large hands white.
“Stop acting like a toddler,” the annoyance looked weird on him, and his usual nonchalant attitude disappeared with a mask of pure frustration that you’d be lying about if you said was ugly on him, “just tell me what the issue is so we can both stop whatever the fuck it is we have going on.”
“We,” you pointed between the two of you, “do not have anything going on, for your information.” You stubbornly crossed your arms across your chest, staring at him blankly and watching his large hand run across his face.
“You wouldn’t even be my type, you know damn well that isn’t what—”
Every word after the first half of the sentence drowned out as you continued to repeat it in your head. You wouldn’t even be my type. You wouldn’t even be my type. You wouldn’t even be my type…
“Earth to Y/N.” Mattsun snapped, glaring over at you and leaning his body back lazily against his driver’s seat. It was slightly reclined back, the comfortability of his position insinuating he didn’t plan on leaving until this conversation got somewhere.
“What do you mean I wouldn’t be your type?”
The words came out faster than you could acknowledge them. You didn’t regret speaking them, but you knew that they only worsened your situation. He would use this as if it was fuel to his never-ending out of fire of an ego and you hated it. The cold air in the car suddenly became more noticeable, goosebumps raising onto your exposed skin and making you feel as if all your senses were being ambushed.
“Well, well, well…” He begins to tease as if he was never angry, his large arms resting behind his head and that stupid smirk back onto his pink lips, “you feel some type of way about what I said?” His voice echoed into your ears as you did nothing but watch him in disbelief.
“You never stood a chance with me anyways.” You bit back at him.
Something in the air changed, but neither of you decided to acknowledge it. It was dark, the light from the dashboard doing nothing but illuminating your features and making Issei smirk to himself in the lack of lighting.
“How so?” He was antagonizing you, itching for you to continue to play his little game back with him because he had a plan. You could see it from the way he lazily blinked over at you, smirk still against his glowing face with nothing but arrogance and faux oblivion.
“You wouldn’t be able to handle me if you tried.”
Those words changed the aura within the car all in itself. You knew the double entendres of a statement could go any way with him. Deep down, you both knew exactly what you meant. Your words remained solid though, eyes staring at him like a fox refusing to glance away from his brown irises.
“Wanna try me?”
You were playing a dangerous game, you knew that. Something about you didn’t care though. There were many ways this conversation could’ve went, but you wouldn’t expect it to go in this direction.
The air in the room was thick, Issei’s brown irises watching you nothing short of predator like. No one spoke after those three words, and faintly, the change in mood also affected the change in genre of music as R&B began to slowly play through his speakers. You wanted to scoff.
His large ring covered hand suddenly inched towards your chin, gripping your jaw and forcing your eyesight on his own face. You weren’t one to blush, but the roughness to his calloused fingers brought a small tinge between your slightly exposed thighs.
“You gonna get in the back or I gotta force you back there?” His words commanded you, the strictness laced within the confines of his voice leaving you no option to do as he told.
Doing what Matsukawa said as if you were following his orders was something foreign to you. The temptation of doing as you pleased crossed the back of your mind, but the curiosity of seeing what he had in store filled you with much more satisfaction.
Without a word and instead settling for a simple eye roll, you kicked your shoes off and found your way between the two front seats and into the cold leather seats of the back of his car. It was cramped, surprisingly cleaner than you'd imagine, and smelt of nothing but Issei.
You would have enjoyed it if the circumstances were different.
Your body sat with your feet resting behind you, leaving a space open for him. The sound of his car door opening and shutting was the cause of the goosebumps rising against your skin.
Subconsciously, you knew were supposed to hate him. You were supposed to despise him for always being such an asshole to you, and you were never supposed to forgive him for anything he’s ever said to you out of his stupid smirking mouth.
You weren't supposed to be hopping into the backseat of his car after challenging him into sleeping with you. You weren’t supposed to be enjoying the feeling of his presence as it finally found its way next to you, the dark tints of his windows hiding his expression but not doing a good job at hiding the bulge hiding in the confinements of his sweatpants.
Your eyes glanced over his, quickly switching between the tent and his irises with an innocent smile on your face. “You gonna take those off or am I gonna have to force them off you?’
Mattsun had never laughed at anything you’d ever said. At least, never to your face. For the first time though, a soft chuckle left his lips as he hunched his body over and rolled his sweats down. You’d be lying if you said you never wanted to provoke that sound out of him again.
He wore Supreme black briefs, a smirk on his lips as he watched your eyes trail over to the excessively large print. His dick was long, curving deliciously to the left and making you fear for your own safety. The thought of that nearly made you drool.
Mattsun made a show of pulling his briefs down, his erection springing to life and showing you that he wasn't even fully hard yet. Maybe you would’ve felt some type of way about not arousing him as much as he was you, and you could thank the pool inside your panties for that, but something about it brought a glimmer to your eye Issei couldn’t ignore.
“Eager to suck my dick, huh?” His words ring against your ears, and you do nothing but give him a glare while getting on all fours across the backseat.
His long torso leaned against the car door, eyes boring onto your frame with a blank expression that drove you insane. You knew this was all an act, he had to have been pretending just to get a rise out of you. There was no way you could’ve missed the way his dick twitched when you got up to take your shorts off.
Your frame was left in a white t-shirt and a seamless green pair of panties known for their cheekster style. He would’ve told you that you looked absolutely delectable, but he'd never let you sit within that satisfaction.
You lowered yourself on all fours once again, holding your hair back with one hand and lowering yourself down between his long limbs. Your eyes just couldn't look away, the large veins running up and down his perfect looking length in a way that made you embarrassingly ready to shove it down your throat already.
And without another word, you opened your lips and allowed a trail of saliva to sliver down the underside of his dick. His thighs tensed up, but as you watched him through your lashes while lowering your lips onto his tip, his bored and expressionless face remained the same.
He couldn't take his eyes off the sight in front of him, as much as he'd hate to admit it. Your ass was up in the air, back arched in a way that nearly made him release a groan as your pretty little mouth left sloppy kisses along his throbbing tip. You used a free hand to run down his cock slowly, hands landing underneath his thick balls and holding them alongside the bottom half of his dick.
He tried to hold the hiss you took out of him, but you used that as an excuse to make him suffer even more. Almost as if it were a competition, you sucked your cheeks in while taking the rest him that fit into your mouth agonizingly slow.
Matsukawa was too big, not that you were complaining. You didn’t have much of a gag reflex, but his size goes beyond that. So in order to accommodate to the situation at hand, you lolled your tongue out across your bottom lip and easily slipped a bit more than half of him down your throat until he felt his tip tickle the back of it.
“Holy fuck..” He breathed out, words stopping as he bit his lip and tilted his head to get a better look at you.
Your eyes began to water, but you ignored the sensation to take a deep breath as you began to massage his balls and lower half with your saliva covered hands. You began to move your mouth in the opposite direction of your hands, touching just enough of his balls with your tongue to get him to grip a chunk of your hair from within your own hand.
“Fuck, just like that.” You never took your eyes off him, and Matsukawa found it even harder to control himself with the way you took so much of him with so much ease.
You hollowed your cheeks as you slipped his now fully-hard dick out your mouth. Trails of saliva followed, the explicit view of your teary eyes and sloppy lips making him groan within his throat.
“Fuck my throat.”
The words were harsh, your expression being just as blank as his once was, and Issei realized he wasn’t really the one in control here. Not if all it took was for you to tell him what to do and he was scrambling to do it like second nature.
His lips revealed that lazy smirk you wanted to fuck off his face, the large hand gripping your hair nearly shoving his dick back into your fresh, wet mouth. “Don’t mind if I do, princess.”
The nickname he called you didn't even have time to register in your mind, the sensation of Matsukawa forcing your head up and down his dick as much as he could being the only thing on your brain. You couldn't help the tears from slipping down your cheeks, eyes opening once again to hazily look over to the ones burning a hole into your face.
Matsukawa couldn’t find it in himself to look away from you. He wasn't sure if it was the tears, or the way you allowed him to fuck your throat so easily, or the drool leaking down into the balls you fondled at the same time, or even the way the hand once gripping your own hair found its way between your legs as he watched you play with yourself, but Issei decided this image was going to ruin everyone else for him.
He already decided he couldn't get enough of you. The sound of your gags filled with car in a nearly pornographic way, yet not once did you ask him to stop and he took note of that. 
“Fuck,” he broke out, eyes struggling to watch yours as his lips parted open, “you’re gonna make me cum,” his words were interrupted by a load groan. Your tongue found its way back onto his balls as his tip rammed into the back of your throat and Issei felt his toes curl. “Fuck, fuck, fuck..”
Right on time, you went against his strong grip and popped his dick out of your mouth with saliva drooling down in a way that looked so forbidden, Issei was sure he would’ve came at that sight alone.
“That was...”
“Not your type?” You bit at him, a mocking smile on your lips as you bit your lip and found your way onto the comfort of his lap.
It was weird, the way you felt like you fit perfectly within his frame as if it was a piece of a puzzle. Matsukawa would agree if he could, hands nearly instinctively finding its way onto the globed of your ass and pulling the fabric of your panties over and over again.
“Never in a million years.”
His smirk haunted you, lidded eyes staring at you once again and you realize Issei Matsukawa is a really hard guy to get a reaction out of. So taking the challenge yet again, you stared at him just as emotionless. Your fingers lifted the patch stuck to your folds, and the trail of wetness that dripped over onto both you and his own thighs was nearly sinful to the sore eyes.
It was hard to imagine taking a dick you were sure you could see in your stomach with such an expression, and you wouldn’t wish that suffering on your worst enemy. You couldn’t believe how much just half of him stretched your insides out, your walls sucking him in and barely being able to hold it in together.
“Don't worry, take your time.” Matsukawa’s tone was beyond condescending, the taunt behind his words bringing an anger within you enough to cloud your mind of all common sense. It was unexpected, the way your body just shoved the rest of him inside of your tight, pulsating hole and rested all your body weight on top of him.
“Fuck!” Both of you yelped out, your hands clawing at his chest while his gripped your ass cheeks apart in nothing but a burning sensation.
He filled you up to the brim, the sureness of him hitting your cervix causing your eyes to flutter at the feeling. You bit your lip, adjusting your body to where your feet were on either side of him on the backseat and your body was more able to move.
His eyes widened in surprise at your actions, the sound of both of your pants alongside the music that was long forgotten struggling to keep you attentive. Without warning, you lifted your body up and slammed back down onto him. The action brought a pretty little gasp out your lips, mouth parted and eyes clenched at just how fucking amazing the curve and thickness of his cock was.
“C’mon baby,” he whispered into your ears, hands reaching over to intertwine themselves with your own so you got better balance, “fuck me like you mean it.”
“You’re such an asshole.” You breathed out, beginning to bounce your body up and down his dick perfect enough to hear the squelching sounds of your wetness after every impact. Issei groaned, eyes glued to the sight of where your pussy swallowed him whole and spit him back out over and over again.
“Mm, what else baby?”
Issei’s bored resolve started to crack, groans slipping through his lips in a way that made you tighten up against him even more if it were possible. Your hands gripped his intertwined ones, bouncing up and down faster than you could probably handle. The sensation of his dick hitting your cervix over and over causing you to arch your back closer into his body as you bounced.
The sound of your body slamming into his began to quicken, the strength of your legs giving up as you realized his started to fuck you back from the bottom and drill his length into you.
“Fuck, Issei…” You moaned out embarrassingly loud, Mattsun’s eyes watching you with curiosity in his irises from the way he wanted to figure out how to get you to moan out like that again.
“Don’t be shy now,” he teased, the strain in his voice telling you that even if he was torturing you with the pounding of his dick, he was enjoying it just as much as you, “where’d all that mouth go, pretty?”
You felt yourself clench at the nickname, head leaning back and leaving your neck open for him to lick a trail over towards your jaw and softly bite the plush skin. The windows began to fog up, the sensation of your poor pussy taking him in and out and quick pace causing the car to jump up and down with each stroke.
“F-fuck,” you stuttered out, nearly crying out when his hands found it’s way towards under your ass to support you as he drilled all of this thickness into your throbbing pussy.
The familiar knot began to grow within your stomach, and your hand found it’s way between his messy locks only to grab it and tilt his head roughly back against the window. A surprised groan left his lips, eyes staring up at you widely with a smirk endured from straight pleasure shot up his lips.
“You gonna cum all on daddy’s dick?”
Usually the words would have made you cringe, and you wanted to bite a snarky remark at him for the name. Yet something in you grew feral at the sentence, beginning to rub your clit against him each time you harshly dropped down as you roughened your grip on his hair.
“Fuck yes, daddy, make me cum,” your words tickled his ears, the moans at the end of each word bringing Matsukawa into a state of euphoria. He could hear you say that to him for the rest of his life, if he could.
“Come on baby,” he groaned out harshly, smacking your ass enough to leave a sting that made you cry out into his neck, “give it to me!”
His words echoed in your ears, your loud cries like music to his ears as he watched you fuck him back just as rough as he was being with you. Your hand pulled his head back once again, his scalp hitting the window harshly but he didn’t care once your lips came crashing onto his.
It was nothing but teeth and tongue, sucking on each other’s muscles and making out as if nothing in this world could ever be right again without it. His hands gripped your ass once again, spreading them harshly apart and spanking them with as much toughness that went into spiking a volleyball.
You screamed into his mouth, words being unable to come out as he began to drill into you even rougher and faster than you knew was possible. Your legs had long given out at this point, simply being tossed up and down like a rag doll by Issei’s strong arms and cocky attitude. You were in heaven, even if you’d never admit it.
“I— I hate you,” you fought to yelp out, pussy beginning to squeeze at the feeling you knew all too well as you stared into his eyes and made him look at you as if he was seeing God, “but you fuck me— fuck, you fuck me so good..”
Your words became faint whispers, stars beginning to formulate instead of his once brown irises and bring you into a state of euphoria.
“Daddy I’m gonna—” The words were stolen from your lips as Matsukawa slammed your lips against his own and gripped your back close to his chest.
“Cum baby,” he groaned into your lips, your own sounds preventing you from being able to kiss him back as your covered tits bounced into the confinement of his chest, “cum on daddy’s big dick.”
The words brought a vibration within you, a mantra of the words daddy and please slipping as you felt the euphoria take over your body and leave you with nearly nothing inside you. Issei could practically feel you cum, his own resolve giving out as his shot his thick cum into your throbbing pussy and bringing another scream from between your swollen lips.
“Take it, good girl— fuck yes..” Words slipped from his mouth without his own permission, the sensation of your pussy holding him within you as if it never wanted to let him go and he really wouldn’t mind.
Nothing but your struggles to catch your own breath filled the car, his own haunting the ghost of your ear as you laid out across his chest with saliva threatening to slip from your lips and cum leaking down both of your thighs. It was absolutely disgusting if you really thought about it, but the idea of knowing you had just slutted each other out so sinfully brought your toes to curl one last time.
No one said a word, and as much as you wanted to comment on how he was still gripping your chest against his own, you decided to go against it and try to find reality from the solitude of his wide chest. You could hear Brent Faiyaz on the radio, the view of just how foggy the windows were making you giggle to yourself.
“What’s funny?” The rumble of the words against his chest caused your pussy to throb once again, and you had almost forgotten he was still lodged inside of you with a load of cum threatening to spill out.
“Nothing.” Your voice was gone, and as embarrassing as it was, Issei mentally found himself obsessing over how raspy it got.
The silence was calm, yet the awkward conversation of what next lingered within the air between the two of you. You knew it was going to come soon, and you weren’t really sure of what could possibly happen afterwards. There was no going back from this, Issei Matsukawa had fucked you so good, you never wanted to fuck anyone else again.
The first to break it was Mattsun, which took you by surprise. His large hands found their way towards you cheek, caressing your head as his pushed you back far enough to face him with fucked out eyes and swollen lips and Issei convinces himself you’re one of the seven wonders of the world.
“We should do that again sometime.” He suggests, bored eyes staring into yours as you noticed the small smile lifting amongst the corner of his lips. You wanted to smile back, but the idea of having some more fun with him seemed quite better.
“Eh,” you replied, lifting your weakened body back into his straddling state and biting your lips as you placed both hands across his broad chest. You notice the way his cock twitches hungrily within you, and you realize you were gonna enjoy this a bit too much.
He’s seeing stars, thinking the hottest thing he’s ever seen is a fucked out you staring at him this way and you realize you’ve finally won. You stare at him, bored eyes and a lazy smirk on your lips mimicking the face he spent all his life mastering.
“You’re not really my type.”
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                             © 444TSUMU 2021
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bookishofalder · 3 years
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The Bet
Hotch x Fem!Reader
Request: @honeyshelley - ‘Hiii, I just discovered you and I hope to read soon your work ! And i hope you are safe and healthly ❤ i wondered if you could write something for Hotchner, the reader can be a police officer who call the bau for help to catch a serial killer or something, a bit of angst maybe and write only of you are inspired ! Don't force yourself, 🤗’
Warnings: Panic attack description, mild CM content. 
A/N: Man, I love Hotch. They did him DIRTY on CM because he stood up for his cast mates and I’ll never forgive CBS for it. 
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Hotch was annoyed.
Though a regularly occurring emotion for him, it was rarely so focused upon himself. Today he stood in the conference room of the D.C. FBI Field Office, where they were assisting on a local case. And he was irritated with only himself.
Because of you.
He didn’t blame you in the least, of course. He wasn’t irrational, wasn’t one to deflect or project his emotions onto others-least of all someone entirely innocent and unaware. It was just exhausting, though, working this case. You were a new addition to the field office, having just transferred from Seattle in hopes of further advancing your already impressive career within the FBI. Hotch had heard of you before, details of your more prolific cases and intense work ethic were often relayed by Spencer Reid, who was one to stay up on fellow agents that might one day suit the BAU team.
And while Hotch had been impressed, mildly interested, happy to get a chance to work with you, he had not expected the woman who walked through the front lobby and extended her hand to him three days prior. No, you had caught him entirely off guard, and he was still reeling. He hadn’t felt this way about a woman in...probably ever if he was honest with himself. Hailey and he were high school sweethearts-that kind of love was different, steady and safe and expected. Beth had caught his attention, her kindness and overall different lifestyle an alluring escape from the realities of his day to day. But things never really took off with her, despite their mutual respect.
But you, well you had him captivated the moment he met your friendly gaze, your eyes wide in clear excitement for getting a chance to work with the BAU. Your hand grasped his and he’d felt like time had slowed, just enough that he could take in every single detail as he introduced himself. The way your hair fell, the curve of your hips, the small pout of your lips. Your posture, head held high to convey the message that you were a leader, not one to be overlooked. It all struck him at the moment, and when you repeated his name in your breathy voice, he knew he was done for.
Three days later the case was going well, though there was an uphill battle, progress was progress. Hotch was happy with how his team was performing. They’d worked plenty of cases with the staff of the D.C. field office. With different sections, and even interacted with many of the agents in social settings and workplace functions, given the proximity to Quantico. But Hotch felt he wasn’t working at his best, behaving entirely unlike himself as he was completely distracted by you every time you stepped into the room.
It had been three days of variable torture, his mind continually informing him of the why not’s-the age gap, that you probably already had a partner, that Hotch was damaged and cursed and certainly didn’t deserve a woman like you. And then you’d bring him a coffee, or stand closely next to him as you both surveyed a map provided by Reid, or tuck your hair behind your ear with a little smile when the conversation turned away from work, and Hotch would feel hot and bothered and not at all like himself.
“Agent Hotchner?” Your voice pulled him from his thoughts, his gaze lifting from the tablet he’d been pretending to read, and meeting yours. You smiled down at Hotch, leaning against the table where he sat. The scent of fresh linens and honeysuckle wafted toward him, delighting his senses further.
Hotch returned your smile automatically, something he was aware was rare for him. He hadn’t needed Derek mentioning it last night as they made their way out the doors, calling attention to his sudden eagerness to smile around the beautiful, strong new agent. But Derek had always enjoyed teasing him when he could get away with it.
“I’m sorry, Agent (Y/L/N), did you say something?” Could you hear his heart right now, as it beat against his chest? The thrum, thrum, thrum signalling just how you affected every cell within his body-could you sense it?
You smirked, extending a coffee you’d been clutching toward him with a small shrug, “I think you need this more than I do, sir.” You giggled, and Hotch’s cheeks flushed in response. His fingers brushed yours when he gratefully took the proffered beverage and he felt a shiver of electricity across his skin.
Hotch nodded in thanks, “Cases like this always seem to require extra coffee.” He admitted, taking a sip and noting how you enjoyed your coffee much sweeter than he did, but at that moment he didn’t mind. It was quality coffee, hot and given by you.
Sighing, you crossed your arms and Hotch kept his gaze level with yours despite the captivating way your breasts pushed out. Inwardly, he chastised himself for his train of thought. You were his colleague. His colleague. His very beautiful, disarmingly charming colleague.
“I agree, though they come along often enough that it’s starting to become a poor excuse for overindulging.”
Hotch glanced down at his mug as he laughed, then back up. When he met your eyes, he noticed they widened slightly, a faint flush dusting your cheeks. This captured his attention fully, but before he could begin to consider how to move forward, how to find out what your blushing meant, Derek and Emily walked into the conference room, heads low.
Another victim had been found.
+
“I really hate alleyways. I think society needs to eliminate them entirely,” You said, your hand clapped over your nose and mouth to ease the intensity of the scent of rotting flesh from the victim that you, Hotch and Reid were staring down upon. “After this case, I’m petitioning for it here-at least within my jurisdiction.”
Hotch laughed aloud. Reid glanced up from the victim, brows furrowed and opened his mouth to no doubt educate you on everything and anything he knew about alleyways. Which you assumed was a lot, because you’d known the genius a few days now and already understood there was little he didn’t know. But you shook your head, resting a hand on his arm as you laughed.
“She’s joking,” Hotch supplied, giving you a warm smile as Reid nodded in understanding. Your knees trembled every time this man looked at you, and you were surprised you didn’t just collapse the moment he flashed you that gorgeous grin. Fuck, you had it bad.
You’d always had a thing for older men, though you hadn’t dated any. You had had a few previous relationships with men your age, either fellow students in college or agents at the academy, but they were all short-lived. You counted some of those men amongst your closest friends. But you focused instead on your career and hoped one day a suitable partner would appear.
You hadn’t expected Agent Aaron Hotchner to tick every single box on your list the moment he introduced himself and those dark, warm eyes searched your face, as though he was seeing something unexpected. You’d spent the last few days finding any excuse to work with or near him, even going so far as to join him and Reid at this most recent crime scene despite how much you really, truly hated alleys.
Nothing good ever happened in an alley, as far as you were concerned, and though you tried to hide your discomfort behind humour, you were eager to assess the scene and get the hell out of the narrow, stifling gap carved between two old buildings.
It was a short while later, when the crime scene photographer was following your instructions, you and the two men on either side of you discussing the case from the vantage of the latest victim, that the discomfort began to fester. It evolved, so slowly you hadn’t realized until suddenly your spine felt tight and your level-headedness seemed to disintegrate. You swallowed, setting your jaw and working to disassociate yourself from your surroundings, hopeful the renowned BAU agents were too focused on their work to recognize your sudden internal struggle for composure.
Though, it seemed that Agent Hotchner had been paying attention, and you couldn’t fathom why. At first, you saw his eyes sweep over you from the corner of his own, taking in your stiff posture, the way your hands clenched at your sides. You thought he would leave it alone, be embarrassed for you when suddenly his large hand was slowly pressing into your lower back. Your shirt pressed to your skin and it was then that you realized the layer of sweat that had broken out over your body as your panic attack raged within.
You closed your eyes briefly, focusing on that hand, but it wasn’t enough. The alley was too narrow, too damp and hot, the odour in the air foul and suffocating. “Come with me.” He suddenly murmured in your ear, and you didn’t hesitate to comply, moving with Hotch as his hand remained on your back, guiding you to the mouth of the alley. Once you were on the street, he moved toward the SUV that you’d all driven over in.
Using the keys, he opened the trunk and gestured for you to take a seat. Again, you followed his instructions, lifting yourself, legs dangling slightly. You still couldn’t breathe, even though the air out here in the open was moving, fresh, a soft breeze dancing across your skin.
You felt like the air wasn’t meant for you anymore, your lungs incapable of pulling it in.
Hotch leaned in front of you, his warm eyes full of concern, “Can I touch you?” He asked you, voice low. You nodded, and his hands found your shoulders, grasping gently. After a moment, during which he gauged your reaction to his touch, his grip tightened and his hands slide up and down your upper arms, grounding you somewhat. “Close your eyes, breath with me, sweet girl.”
His words sent a shiver down your spine, but you followed his suggestion and began to take deep breaths as your eyes closed. Your hands lay flat on your thighs, applying your own slight pressure. He took exaggerated breaths to ensure you could hear him and match your own.
You weren’t sure how long you and Hotch stayed like this, but his movements never ceased, and you could feel his eyes watching you. When your breathing evened out, you focused instead on the cool air, the strength behind his hands on you. Slowly, you opened your eyes and met his. “I’m sorry, I-“
Hotch shook his head, “You have nothing to apologize for. We’ve all been there.”
You smiled shyly at his words, nodding. “Well, thank you. This...it really helped.” You watched as he returned your smile, his right hand releasing your arm to brush falling strands of your hair over your shoulder. The gesture alone was enough to make you shiver again, your mind and body reconnecting as your panic attack diminished.
He seemed to notice your reaction this time, and pulled his hands back, appearing surprised. He didn’t move away, though, for which you were grateful. You weren’t ready for the moment to end.
“I hope I didn’t overstep, Agent.” He muttered, his serious frown returning. You shook your head quickly, eager for him to understand just how much you appreciated what he’d just done for you.
“You can call me (Y/N),” You replied quietly, considering your next words carefully. “Although...I didn’t mind sweet girl if I’m being honest.”
You had held his gaze as you spoke, which allowed you to bear witness to the emotions that played across the usually stoic man's face. Shock morphed into a small smile that met his butterscotch eyes, a blush creeping across his skin and his right hand moved to rub the back of his neck nervously. After a few moments, which you could see he was using to come up with a reply, he sat down next to you, your sides touching. He sighed with a smile.
“Could I take you to dinner once this case wraps up, (Y/N)?”
A grin spread across your face at his words, and, feeling bold, you took his hand into yours as you looked up at the handsome man. “I’d love that, Aaron.” You squeezed.
His eyes lit up at your reply and he returned your pressure as he smiled down at you. You stayed like that for a long while, grinning at one another like lovesick kids, so enamoured that you both missed Reid pulling out his phone to snap a picture.
He sent the photo to the team, conceding defeat to Derek and Emily, who had both bet it would take only three days for Hotch to ask you out. Spencer had bet on four days, JJ on a week, and Garcia on a week after the case would wrap up.
Now he was out forty bucks, but it was worth it to see the smiles lighting you both up as you gazed at one another. The rest of the world was background noise.  
Did you enjoy this story? Please consider reblogging or commenting to ease my inner turmoil as a writer. Likes are basically just a bookmark!
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dumbikawa · 3 years
Text
Being Stressed About Exams & HQ Boys Comforting You
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GN!Reader | Comfort/Fluff | Warnings: stressed reader
Characters: Atsumu, Oikawa
A/n: This is extremely self-indulgent as school has been kicking my butt and the future post-graduation is very terrifying lol
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ATSUMU
You stare at the computer in front of you, the text you’re supposed to read for class beginning to swim together as your eyes fill with tears. Everything is happening too fast and you feel completely unprepared to take any of it on. What if you spent all of this time and money on schooling only to fail so close to the end? What if you finally do finish, but then can’t find a job in your field? Should you have studied something else? The questions become more exhausting and constant the closer it gets to exams. 
Small droplets roll off your cheeks and begin to pool on your keyboard. You haphazardly wipe them away before powering off the computer and tucking it back in your bag. Out of sight, out of mind, you figure. It’s not like there’s any use in trying to finish it tonight when you can already feel another wave of stress induced tears coming on. Those have also become a regular thing.
You click the volume button on your phone so that the sounds of music fill the room before leaning back in the desk chair, testing the limits of how far you can recline before gravity takes over. Atsumu had made this study playlist for you when he first noticed how stressed you were. It contained a mixture of your favorite songs, his favorite songs, and a few ‘motivational’ songs he pulled from his work-out playlists. It was a bit of a weird Frankenstein mash up with the large variety of genres, but it quickly became one of your studying must haves.
Over the sound of the music, you couldn’t hear the shower click off and the door to the bathroom swinging open. When Atsumu steps out, he sees you sitting where he’d left you, although, in a more dangerous position than you’d been in before as he notices the way the desk char teeters back and forth. His attention is quickly caught by the music choice, though, recognizing one of the songs playing as a favorite of his he added to the playlist he made for you a couple weeks ago. A smile breaks through his face as he hurriedly jumps into a pair of sweatpants before approaching your quiet figure.
As he comes up behind you, though, he notices a slight glisten upon your cheeks and a few fresh tears that tumble from your closed eyes. His upturned lips quickly sink as worry floods through him. Exams had been taking a toll on you, it wasn’t hard to tell, but he would never get used to seeing you cry.
“Baby,” he whispers, gently wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “What can I do for ya? Food? Cuddles? Cry it out?” You nod, resting the chair back on the ground and practically launching yourself into his arms.
Atsumu catches you with ease, his strong arms holding you against his chest. His hand rubs up and down your spine, sending shivers racing down you back, but there's no ulterior motive to his gentle touches. He continues the soft touches as he guides you to the bed, only letting you go for a second before allowing you to bury yourself in his side again.
“What if I can’t do it?” you whisper, trailing your fingers across Atsumu's toned chest. “I’ve studied for so long, but what if it doesn’t work out? What if--What if I don’t actually know anything and I crash and burn and--”
Atsumu shushes you gently, placing a few comforting kisses to your forehead. He notices your breathing beginning to grow heavier as your anxiety takes over. There's a few moments of silence as you try to match your breathing to his, the two of you taking slow, deep breaths in sync.
“The future might be unsure and stressful, but I know you’re going to do your best and make it work. All you can do is continue to work towards your goals and handle everything as it comes. Not to mention, I’m always going to be here to remind you of how strong you are even if you don’t see it.”
A new wave of tears begins as his words echo through your ears. You bury your face in his chest as your arms wrap around his waist in an attempt to pull yourself as close to him as you physically can be. Somehow he knew exactly what you needed to hear and a part of you wonders if he’s ever repeated those sentiments to himself when things felt unsure.
He continues to whisper reassurances as you fully relax against him, your tears finally beginning to dry up. You lift your head and offer him a weak smile.
“Thanks for letting me cry on your abs,” you sniffle, allowing yourself to truly laugh.
Atsumu feels lighter as he watches you smile and joke, hopefully being able to forget about the more stressful parts of life for a while as he holds you close. There’s been countless times where you eased his worries about the future, so he’s just happy that he can return the favor and create a safe space where you’re allowed to simply be.
OIKAWA
The cup in your hand is warm and comforting as you trudge towards your bedroom, a sense of dread washing over you as soon as your eyes land upon the laptop you left sitting open on the bed. With finals coming up, you thought it would be a good idea to transfer the notes you had written down during lectures onto your computer, figuring it would make them easier to access and that the process of going back through the information would be a good way to ensure you remember the material.
What you didn’t realize, however, is how absolutely time consuming and exhausting it was going to be. Your neck hurts from constantly looking back and forth between the paper and computer screen, your back hurts because somewhere along the way you abandoned any semblance of healthy posture and decided to go full cave gremlin in the way you hunched over your work, and instead of absorbing the information for a second time it seemed as if your brain had completely abandoned you and gone on autopilot. Shoving the computer off the bed and taking a nap feels like the best course of action right now, but you know if you stop now there’s no way you’re going to want to finish later.
Begrudgingly, you settle back onto the bed and take a large swig of coffee before stretching your fingers and placing them back on the keyboard. It couldn’t take that much longer right? All you have to do is push through and get it done.
And, for the next few hours, that’s what you do. You jump back in where you left off and race through the next few, gruelingly long chapters. The daylight outside quickly dwindles away until you’re forced to turn on the bedside lamp when you realize the sun has sunk far below the horizon and is beginning to cast bizarre shadows around the room. It was no bother, though, because you’re so close to being done. The issue is that neither your brain nor your body could keep up anymore.
Your fingers keep hitting the wrong keys, typing made up words that have you constantly backspacing and starting sentences over again for a third of even a fourth time. The breaking point comes when you go to take a sip of your now cold coffee and look back at the screen after attempting to type an entire paragraph from your notes in one go. Little did you know your finger placement was off, yet again, and the entire paragraph is an unreadable mess that even spell check doesn’t want to touch.
The tears that sting your eyes make you feel stupid. It was entirely too dumb to cry over something as superficial as misspellings that could be easily fixed and cold coffee. But once the tears start they won’t stop. Suddenly, you’re not crying over the notes or even school work in general. You’re crying about the crushing weight of change that's soon to come once you finish with classes and how impossible everything has begun to feel.
You’re too exhausted to focus on anything anymore, letting the hot tears run down your cheeks freely, which is why you don’t hear the rushed footsteps of your boyfriend who could hear your hiccuping breaths from down the hall. 
He doesn’t say anything when he sees you curled up on the bed, your face buried in your arms. Oikawa sits on the ground closest to you and lays his head near yours as he begins to run his slender fingers through your hair. It doesn't take a psychic to tell you've been stressed with the quickly approaching exams, and from the collection of notes littered all around to the half closed computer the dots practically connect themselves.
The slight dip on the bed near your head alerts you to his presence, but you don't move. His hands guiding themselves over your scalp is quick to relax your body, but your mind feels like it's about to burst any moment as the thoughts continue to race.
“You’re doing so good,” he whispers against your temple, planting soft kisses after every word, “and you deserve to take a break. Remember when you used to have to tell me that all the time?" The feeling of his quiet laughter against your skin makes you smile, along with the memories of simpler times before either of you had barely begun to grasp how harsh the world could be.
"I picked up dinner for us, it was an apology for coming home late," he admits, kissing the top of your head. "But let's go heat it up and you can either tell me everything you're worried about or we can try to forget all about it for now and watch a movie. I'd really like it if you talked about it eventually, though. I know I'm not going to be able to fix it all, but that doesn't mean I can't try."
You turn your head to the side, exposing your tear stained cheeks that are quickly wiped away by Oikawa's calloused thumbs.
"I will," you say, voice heavy. "For now could you just hold me?" There isn't a second of hesitation as Oikawa slips his arms beneath your figure and presses you tightly against him.
"Movie it is," he announces, laying you on the couch with the remotes so that you could put on whatever you want. Your brain would never stop the constant anxious thoughts, but losing yourself in those chocolate brown eyes made it easy to imagine a future where it all works out somehow. Little do you know, Oikawa sees the same thing reflected in your eyes as he wonders about the right time, perhaps a couple years from now when you've both settled down in your careers, when he can finally buy that ring he's been looking at.
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headinthestaticsky · 3 years
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Extras for The Dusk Calls for me.
Authors Note: While I plan out the next few chapters of my story, enjoy these memories I did for the re-write I did on Wattpad.
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TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions and a attempt of SA
Time: This Takes place a year before the beginning of The Dusk Calls for me.
"Makes me feel like flying
Top-down backstreet driving Dusty road all alone
Tip my hat Puff of smoke, smoke
Makes me feel like flying
I just run ."
American Gurl by: Kilo Kish
I was finally out, those words of bile my mother and sister spew toward me finally pushed me over the edge. Yet those words finally got me back with my father in Forks, where I always belonged.
Flashback: One Week Ago.
"FLEUR! GET DOWN HERE NOW!" My erratic mother Renee yelled from downstairs.
My heart started beating out of my chest, what did I do this time? I walked into the dining room, Renee and Isabella were sitting at the table across from where I was sitting. Bella had a smirk on her face relishing in the tension between Renee and I.
"Yes?" I asked.
"You always have to cause trouble don't you?' She replied back, malice laced her voice.
"What? What are you even talking about?"
"Bella told me you've been saving money to go see your father in Forks." She spat at me.
My rapidly beating heart sunk down into my stomach, I had been trying to see my dad in Forks for a year now. My mother refused to get me a plane ticket herself, she always told me I reminded her too much of my father and that I didn't need to be around him anymore than I already was which wasn't often.
"Mother, it's my money I can do with it as I please," I said calmly though I could feel the rage beginning to boil in my blood.
"YOU AREN'T GOING!" She yelled demandingly.
I couldn't control myself, it was as if someone else had entered my body.
"WHAT IN THE HELL IS SO WRONG FOR WANTING TO SEE MY FATHER!?"
"I'M NOT GOING TO WASTE THAT KIND OF MONEY ON YOU!"
"Well you aren't now aren't you? It's my own money and I will use it however the hell I want to!"
"Oh don't you..." Renee started.
"Are you going to tell me you would be doing the same thing if Bella was the one wanting to go see dad?"
"She isn't a trouble maker." She snapped back.
"How am I a trouble maker? For wanting my mother to be kind and considerate? For wanting my mother to treat me with respect? To get an ounce of love from the frozen, undead heart inside your chest?" I asked, my face heated up it felt like it was burning.
"If you can't stand to be around us so much why don't you just move down there to Forks?"
"I will, just give me the rest of the money for the plane ticket and I swear to god the second I walk out that door I will NEVER come back!"
"Fine..." I turned away from her before she could say anything else. Before I reached the stairs I turned around again, looking directly at Bella.
"Get away from her while you can Isabella, or you're going to end up being just as toxic as she is." I then left before they could say anything else.
Flashback over: 2 years before the Original story begins.
I looked to the side, staring out the window. The desert plains had disappeared while I slept and now the lush green forests overtook the view. The fog wasn't heavy but the skies were covered with dark grey clouds and a downpour of rain. The cold weather was a lot more favorable in my opinion, the sun couldn't burn my skin much here. The plane had begun to shake signaling that the plane was beginning to land. I couldn't wait to see my father again, I hadn't seen him since my 12th birthday. When I got off the plane I stretched, being cramped in a small plane for an almost 3-hour flight wasn't exactly the most comfortable.
I walked through the crowded airport, scanning the area for my father. I bumped into some disgruntled couples and quickly left before I was caught in the crossfires of their mood.
"Petal?" I heard from behind me. I turned around quickly recognizing that voice, it could calm me down before I got into trouble.
"Dad..." I said fondly before running up to hug him.
My heartfelt I little more full, and the pain my mother inflicted on me was healed for the time being. We walked out together, each of us was carrying a bag. The wind was strong today and my hair was flying all of the places. Its cooling touch raised goosebumps on my skin, mom didn't buy any warmer clothes for me so I was stuck in the typical Arizona tank tops and shorts. Luckily for me, the car was already warmed up so I dethawed quickly. We drove for a few minutes in silence, the roar of the engine and other passing cars were the only sounds filling the space.
"So, how have you been? I feel like I haven't seen you in a while." Dad said.
"I've been better, you know how mom is," I mumbled.
"I don't know what happened to her, she wasn't like that in high school. If she was I wouldn't have even wasted a second on her."
"I know you would've dad...she's cruel for sure. She's just good at hiding it from people she wants to impress."
"Yeah, she is."
The drive was a giant wave of nostalgia, being 16 now and seeing all of the familiar sites and views brought back fond memories. The old ice cream shop dad use to take me to, the reservation that Sam and Leah lived on, it all brought me back. It also fueled anger, however, as my mother constantly kept me under the brutal radiation of the sun.  Dad must've seen the look on my face and put his hand on my shoulder.
"It's going to be okay Petal, you're away from her now." He comforted.
"It's not just her dad... Bella's acting like her too."
"That's a shame... it really is."
"Yeah... it is." I sighed.
"I just can't wait to get back home, the attic is calling for me."
Dad chuckled before speaking again.
"You know... I heard you just got your license... So I got you an older car."
"You did not have to do that dad."
"It doesn't get in until next week, so I'll have to drive you to school until then," Dad said as if that would balance out the fact he got me a car.
"That's fine dad. What is it?"
"It's an old Mustang, a Fastback."
"Thank you, dad..."
"No problem Petal.
When we pulled into the driveway of our small but beautiful home the nostalgia fully set in. The colors were exactly the same, and the grass was just as muddy and dead as before.
"Well I cleared off some shelves for you in the bathroom, your room was a bit dusty so I just cleaned it for you," Dad explained as he helped me take my luggage upstairs.
"Sounds good, thank you again, dad, I love you."
"Love you too Petal." He kissed my head before closing the door behind me. The room was bare, I would have to fix it later on. I collapsed on my bed, facing the ceiling.
"I'm home."
September 17th, 2004.
"Dad I have to go, I don't want to be late on my first day!" I exclaimed throwing on a leather jacket.
"Petal I am almost ready, I never knew you were so much of a bookworm." He joked, ruffling my hair.
"Dad I am an entire school year ahead of where I should be... I take my education very seriously." I said, trying to hide the growing smirk on my face.
"Alright alright let's go," Dad said, taking my arm and pulling me out the door.
We were only driving for a little bit when I decided to roll the window down, I placed my arms on where the window used to be and rested my head on them. My hair blew out of my face and the cool mist of Forks hit me. When we arrived at the school dad was scanning the parking lot looking for a place to park when he passed right by a group of people. They were all gorgeous, their faces seemingly perfectly sculpted, and they all had the same colored eyes, golden. My eyes locked with one however, they were filled with pain for a second before melting into shock. something strange filled my chest and my heart began to race. As we drove past them I gave him a smile, hoping to ease his shock.
Timeskip: September 30th, 2004
Something was up, the boy I saw outside that window, Jasper Hale was more than what he seemed. He was freezing cold all the time, and I swore I saw his eyes turn black for a split second when he saw a boy from another make a gesture toward me. It was strange really, we had been friends for a few weeks but he seemingly had a protective...energy over me. But at the same time, I still felt something... I couldn't explain it. It was as if we were connected to each other in some way. My dad had to take my car to the shop and he couldn't pick me up today so I decided to take a trip to the library, hoping to find some new material to read.
I didn't realize how long I had been in the library until I looked out of the small windows of the building. The sky was darkened and daylight was running out, I checked out a few books and left not wanting to be stuck walking in the night. I was a few blocks home when I heard 3 men talking behind me.
"Oh looks at this one..."
"She seems perfect for us."
"Come here girly... we just want to talk."
My heart raced and my pace quickened, speed walking home. I tried taking weird turns and cuts but they wouldn't fall for the bait. I decided to run for it hoping my legs would be quick enough to evade them all. I was then pushed against the wall 2 minutes into my escape again, the smell of alcohol made me want to retch.
"You aren't very good at listening to orders." One murmured, his face was inches away from me, he breathed in my scent and began to chuckle.
"Don't be too hard on her... I like ones that fight." Another said
"Make this easy on yourself girl..."
One reached down to take off my clothes when he was suddenly thrown back a few feet into the air. I just stood against the wall shocked, I saw Jasper standing over the man before making his way over to the other two men. They both took off leaving their "friend" behind but Jasper zoomed toward them. His speed was inhuman and his strength was unprecedented yet I couldn't stop myself from moving from my spot. The other two men were flown into the air and scream on impact. Jasper grabbed them both by the throats.
"If you EVER try to touch her or any woman for that matter like that again... I. will. kill. you!" He growled before releasing them down on the ground. They gasped and ran again, babbling in terror toward one another.
Jasper walked toward me with a guilty look on his face, his hand reached out for mine and I took it without even thinking.
"Come with me Darlin' I have a lot to explain to you." He said softly, his mood had completely changed with me.
We walked for a few moments in silence, I side-eyed him for any shift in behavior, when it didn't I decided to interrogate him.
"How did you do that?" My voice trembled.
He sighed before replying.
"I'm a vampire." He said blatantly.
I looked at him and laughed thinking it was a joke... when he didn't join I stopped and looked at him with shock.
"You're serious?" I said, my eyes widening again.
"Yes I am, I've been 17 for...141 years. I got changed during the Civil War."
"Damn... you're old... wait were you in the Civil War?"
"Yes, I was drafted to the Confederate Army when I was 17..."
"Yikes..."
"You're telling me, I ran away the first chance I got... I wasn't going to fight in some war that was fueled by warped and disgusting ideas just because I was forced to. I never thought the way they did... I never understood why someone could think so low of a human being just because of his skin."
"That's very brave of you."
"I had just made it to Galveston when I decided to take a break... I ended up on a beach... that's when I ran into an immortal named Maria. She was creating an army and decided that I would be a good fit for it."
"She changed you against your will?"
"I didn't even know what she was doing until I felt searing pains from my arms all the way up to my neck." He explained rolling up his sleeves and showing me his scars."
I traced the teeth marks on his forearm before looking up at him again.
"I'm sorry that happened to you..."
He looked up at me in shock.
"You... you feel sympathy for something like me? I'm a monster..." He said sincerely.
"It wasn't even your choice as to what you became... and I don't think a monster would've saved me back there. Face it, Jasper, you're a big softie who's had bad experiences in his long... long life."
He chuckled before glancing at me, we made it back to the house, dad still wasn't home yet. We walked into the backyard, sitting in patio chairs and looking up at the stars.
"There's something else I have to tell you." Jasper admitted in the darkness.
I looked at him in confusion, what else did he have to tell me? He's a werewolf too?
"You're..." He hesitated. "You're my mate." He said quickly.
"What? How... vampires have mates?" I asked in shock.
"Yes we do, and we instantly know when we've met them. Didn't you feel it, when you looked out that window at me? It was enamour... love, something I have never experienced before."
"I haven't either... but I have to admit I felt something too. I just didn't know what it was, I felt connected to you somehow though. But... I'm 16... falling deeply in love isn't exactly something I planned."
"I understand completely. I won't force you to do anything you don't want to do. I understand I am a vampire... this is a lot to take in." Jasper said lowering his head in shame, his curls covered his eyes.
I sat up and turned to him.
"Hey, hey it's not just because you're a vampire honest! I just need to think things through... we can still talk in and out of school I won't push you out." I said a bit faced-paced. I didn't want to hurt his feelings he did just save me after all.
He looked and me and grabbed my hand.
"Take all the time you need Fleur, I will accept your answer no matter what is it." He said sincerely.
"Thank you... Jasper."
"It's not any trouble." His face lit up all of the sudden, car headlights entered my line of view. I felt my hand by dropped by his cold one and a whoosh of wind flew my hair forward. I turned back around and he was gone.
Timeskip: October 16th, 2004.
It was hard, weighing the pros and cons of being with Jasper.
Pros: We were soulmates... destined to be with each other, He knew my limits and respected my boundaries, he gave me a choice, not forcing me into something I might not want to do, and he was a kind and gentle soul. We understood each other, our hearts and souls were connected and I would never find someone else I would be so close to.
Cons: He was a creature who thirsted for blood... a thirst he didn't always have the best control over, Being in a serious relationship at such a young age was a huge commitment I didn't even fully know who I was... would I ever be able to find out who I am being so committed to someone If I did become involved in a relationship two things would happen... I would die and leave him lonely for eternity, or I would be turned into a vampire... leaving my family behind.
My mulling over of the pros and cons was interrupted, a girl had cleared her throat. I looked up realizing I was still in the school library, standing in the back of the constant isles of books. I turned to the voice and my eyes were shocked to see Rosalie Hale looking at me.
"Rosalie? Is there something you need?" I asked.
"Let's go for a walk, I need to talk to you in private." She said she seemed tense about something.
I checked out the books I got before following her to the outside, we walked near the edge of the woods. The dead leaves and grass crunched underneath our feet.
"I know Jasper told you about us... and he told me that you wanted to think somethings over with him." She started.
"Hey... I just wanted to let you know I would never tell anyone about you guys... And I'm not trying to hurt Jasper with me thinking our relationship over. It's just a lot of process." By the time I finished that statement she laughed and patted my shoulder.
"Don't worry Fleur I completely understand why you want to think over some things... I would too if I were in your shoes. Besides, I trust you... I get a good vibe off of you." Rosalie replied smiling at me.
"I want to get into a relationship with Jasper I do but... I don't want to leave my father... he's all I got right now and I'm all he's got."
"Hey, I promise no one would force you into becoming a vampire in our family... I especially wouldn't force you to."
"Really?"
"Yes of course... It's nice to meet someone with a respect for mortality."
"It's just... I always to do certain things... like going to that art school in Cayon City Oregon... the Art Museums down there are amazing... and I always wanted to kid when I was older... a little boy." I explained smiling fondly at the thought.
"I did too... I always wanted a son."
"But at the same time... I wouldn't want to spend all my time with Jasper... only to leave him alone for eternity you know?" I asked her hoping she would get my point of view.
"Of course... I can tell you've been conflicted these past few weeks about it. But I wanted to vouch for Jasper... he's willing to do anything for you, and his thirst for blood has never been more controlled than when he's been with you. He won't take you away from your family either... he would never want to hurt you in any way possible." She explains turning toward me to look me in the eyes so the message could really sink in.
"Thanks, Rosalie..."
"Of course...give Jasper a chance, I promise it'll be worth it." She said.
"I will... I'll talk to him tonight, thanks for the guidance."
"No problem."
Timeskip: October 16th, 2004: 10:12 PM
Dad was gone, he had to work late down at the station tonight. My palms and legs shook nervous to tell Jasper my decision. I was sitting in the same spot I was in when Jasper told me I was his soulmate... the cool air calmed my nerves slightly before I closed my eyes and sighed.
"Fleur? You said you wanted to talk to me... are you okay?" Jasper's voice asked worryingly behind my closed lids.
"Yeah, I'm fine... I just wanted to give you an answer about... everything."
He sat down adjacent to me and nodded, wanting me to continue.
"I will get into a relationship with you... thank you for giving me the time to think about things."
He smiled before asking me if he could kiss my cheek. I said yes of course and it seemed my body melted in bliss and content. All the past weeks' tensions and worrying left me and it was replaced with love... and a sense of stability. We looked up at the stars and I pointed toward the largest one in the sky.
"You see that one?" I said.
"Yes, I do Darlin'."
"That is the star of the path I started with you..."
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summonerscenarios · 3 years
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Hey I submitted a request earlier that I don't think went through (sorry, new to tumblr). In case it didn't, I asked if you could do an angst scenario of the MC being wounded in a real fight and getting hospitalized, hanging onto life. How would Shiro, Kengo, Ryota, Toji, Moritaka, and Agyo take it? (Ignore this the post went through) Thanks!
Me? Going overboard on a request and writing way too much filler at the beginning for the sake of a plot? MORE LIKELY THAN YOU THINK. 8000 words later and this is made~! Thank you sm to @husbandomail for proofreading this! -------------
None of the Summoners are there when you get ambushed, it’s a twisted kind of irony really - the one person who’s almost always hanging around with someone being attacked the moment they get caught on their own. You’re used to the fights by this point, you’ve been involved in conflict from the moment you first arrived in Tokyo from fighting enemies to fighting future allies, so when you first get jumped by another group who think they’ve got what it takes to take you down, you don’t even bat an eye at the confrontation, thinking it should be over soon. You were right, but not in the way you’d thought.
You don’t know when it happens, you were just preparing to call forth your sacred artifact when a wave of searing heat blossoms from your side. At first you don’t even recognize it as pain, it feels just like burning, as though you’ve gotten too close to a fire, and you look down just in time to see the knife buried in your side as the stranger rips the blade back out. The the pain hits you, and you stumble over yourself trying to make as much distance as possible from the one who stabbed you, cursing as you bring a hand to clutch at the wound - it must have been serrated, as there’s far more damage than a regular knife could cause, and the blood is already seeping through your shirt and onto your fingers as you try to keep pressure on it. It’s a moment of weakness, one your attackers are eager to take advantage of, but you aren’t going down without a fight; weapon or no, you’ll fight tooth and nail if you have to to get out of this.
And that’s exactly what happens - your attackers swarm in, some armed with knives and pipes, others bare handed like yourself, and the ensuing fight is awash with blood, tearing and screaming. Every hit you get in you’re taking three, knocking you back and slicing at your clothes and body as you have one too many close calls with weapons getting too close. Your fists are torn up and bleeding, and your arms are shredded from blocking blow after blow as you focus on a repetitive rhythm - swerve, jab, dodge, kick, swerve, jab, dodge, hit - you’re getting exhausted, movements growing sloppy with each moment spent constantly evading. You put up a good fight, at least three of them are limping from where you’ve struck them in the legs, and another is clutching his arm nursing the spot where you’d sunk your teeth in when it had wrapped around your neck. They’re wounded, but the more you hurt them the more you piss them off, and you’re struggling to keep up.
It’s brutal, and in the split second it takes you to kick away the stranger going for your throat there’s a crack and your vision goes white as your body gives out and you crumple to the floor - you’ve been struck in the back of the head, that much you know, but you can’t will your body to get back up. You’ve reached your limit, you can’t move anymore and your vision is swimming in and out of darkness, with blackspots clouding your already messy thoughts as you fight to focus on the group who are closing back in. They’re approaching you slowly, whether it’s because they’re so sure they’ve won, or if they assume you’re just faking (which would have been a smart move, in hindsight) you don’t know, all you know is that their weapons are still raised, wet and dripping from what you can only assume is your blood. They’re not done with you yet, you think to yourself, head laying slack against the floor as you glare up at your attackers with bared teeth. 
Shit, you might actually die here.
But then the walkway is flooded by lights, a passing car driving close to the pavement as it goes past. It must be too close for comfort, as at the sight of the headlights momentarily blinding your vision the group scampers off, as though terrified at the thought of being caught - it’s enough to make you laugh, if breathing didn’t feel like you were rubbing sandpaper against your throat. Instead you try to call out to the passing car, ignoring the metallic taste that floods your mouth as you try to make your voice as loud as possible. For a moment you think you catch the driver’s attention, as the car slows down just a fraction, lights trailing over the path so close to spotting you, but then you watch as it continues moving, the lights sliding out of view and basking you in darkness once again as you drop your head back to the ground. You don’t know how long you lay there - a few minutes at least - but eventually you slowly pull yourself up into a sitting position, no longer trusting your legs to support your weight as you drag yourself over to the closest wall, slumping against it with a wheeze as your body protests moving so soon. If you’re gonna pass out, it’s not gonna be face down on the floor you’re making sure of that, but you know you can’t stay here and just hope someone will come find you, not when there’s a chance of your attackers coming back. 
Yet you can’t walk, and you doubt dragging your bloody body out into the street is going to do anything other than get you hit by a car. Instead, you shove your hand into your pocket, cursing the fabric as it catches and pulls on the slices etched into your skin as you fish around for your phone, hoping that it wasn’t too damaged in the scuffle. Fortunately, it looks untouched when you pull it out, and when you turn it on the flash lights up the area around you, where you can see dark red streaks spattering the pavement like something out of a horror movie. Biting back a wince, you clumsily open your phone, fingers sliding over the screen and leaving smears as you slide through your contacts, looking for someone who can pick up your call. You don’t know who you end up calling, but the moment you hear the dial you bring the mobile up to your ear and wait, trying to keep yourself focused enough to stay awake long enough to tell someone what’s happened. You hear a voice as someone picks up on the other end - you can’t make out who but they sound happy as they say your name, recognizing the caller ID; you feel almost bad that you’re about to ruin their night with an impromptu near-death call.
You wheeze something out - maybe cracking a joke in the face of death, maybe a serious rundown on what’s happened, or hell maybe even a garble of gibberish with how your tongue feels like solid lead in your mouth as you talk. As soon as you speak the call goes silent, and you wonder for a moment if they’ve hung up, but then they’re back on the line again, saying something about holding on and asking where you are, what you can see, and questions along those lines. You do your best to answer them all, but sometimes their voice is drowned out by white noise, as though a static is clouding your head and trying to force its way out of your ears getting increasingly more persistent the longer the call lasts; eventually you can barely make out anything other than a few words, and your entire weight is pressed against the wall now hands struggling to keep a hold on the phone as your fingers go lax and lose any strength they had. Eventually the phone slips from your hands altogether and you can’t even reach down to pick it up, so you try to keep speaking as loud as you can as you stare up at the sky, looking for something to keep you awake. But you don’t find it - instead you find the stars looking back at you, sparsely dotted across the sky as the only other witnesses to the sight of you in this moment. They look so small and you have to squint to see them, noticing that their initial shine is fading, growing duller; it takes too long for your brain to register that it’s because you’re passing out, eyes fluttering open and closed. The last thing you can hear is the voice on the other end of the call, telling you to stay awake, not to close your eyes - you’ve never been too good at listening to people though…
Shiro is the one who you’d called. When he’d seen your name flash on his screen, he fully expected to hear that you were on your way back to the dorms since you were cutting close to missing curfew. His tone is chipper when he answers the call, bringing it up to his ear, but then he hears the wheeze on the other end, a hollow sounding rattle of words that makes his world freeze in the spot. Shiro would recognize your voice from anywhere, but it sounds so hoarse and pained that he goes silent at the sound, listening to the sound of you breathing as you wait for him to respond. All thoughts screech to a halt - there’s so many questions that hit him at once, all fighting for the forefront of his mind, but the red flags force their way forward. Something’s wrong, something’s happened. A wince on the other line snaps him out of his thoughts, and all at once he’s trying to get as much information as he possibly can - where are you? How far from the dorms? Can you get back? What can you see? They rattle off faster than they should be, but the panic is beginning to well up in his chest as he begins to realize the gravity of the situation and that you aren’t okay. The moment he’s able to get an address, he’s out of the room and looking for someone, anyone who can help him get to where you are and get you the help you desperately need as soon as possible - it’s a stroke of luck that there’s teachers still doing their rounds when Shiro makes it outside, as he would scoured the whole place looking for help as he didn’t want to hang up on you. 
He’s part way through trying his best to explain the situation when your phone hits the floor and he stills, eyes wide as he listens to your voice, loud but groggy and disoriented as your words filter in and out of coherency. The only thing he can think to say is begging you to stay awake, to listen to his voice in the vain hope that it will give you something to focus on, and by the time your answers begin filtering off into long silences Shiro’s clutching his phone hard enough that it hurts and yelling even though it doesn’t make a difference. He’s got a sinking feeling in his stomach that if you pass out this might very well be the last time he hears your voice, but he shakes the thought away violently as his attention whips back to the teacher, watching anxiously as they make a call to someone - he’s hoping its emergency services - and try to fill in the gaps on what’s happened. In the time that Shiro’s attention has turned from the teacher back to the phone the call’s gone quiet, he’s hoping it’s just that the calls dropped but when he checks the screen his heart drops into his stomach upon seeing the call time display. 
You’re gone - and he prays it’s not for good.
Shiro’s not allowed to go with them to the scene, but when he’s not calling the other Summoners to get them to convene he’s glued to Mr. Triton’s side, the teacher being updated on the situation as things progress. He can tell something’s wrong when Triton receives news that they’ve found you, as the momentary sigh of relief is replaced by an expression of dread which is poorly masked as he looks over at the Summoners who have all arrived. You’re alive, the teacher assures them that much, but as soon as he hears the word ‘hospital’, Shiro is struck with the reality that this is really happening. There is no worry over wounds that disappear, no grins as he’s waved off for being so concerned over temporary injuries - you won’t be coming back tonight. Going to the hospital isn’t an option, even though for once Shiro is tempted to side with Kengo about going anyway just to see if you’re gonna be okay, but it’s clear the teachers are on alert as all students are directed right back to their dorms to stay put for the rest of the night, with promises that you’re going to be okay even though he knows they don’t know that for sure. 
Shiro can’t sleep, and spends most of the night looking through his phone. Videos, pictures taken together - he keeps rereading the last message you’d sent him over and over again, getting more choked up every time he goes back to it. ‘Be back soon’, if only you knew how wrong you were, but how could you have known? How could he? He didn’t get around to responding, figuring that he could speak to you when you got back at the time, and now he regrets it, he regrets it so much that it hurts and he can’t do anything about it. He doesn’t know when he falls asleep, but when he wakes up Shiro’s head is throbbing and his eyes sting, and he feels sick when he looks at his phone and last night's events catch up to him.
It takes a while before anybody is allowed to actually see you. Your condition was worse than they had thought when you were first brought in, so you weren’t allowed visitation until the doctors knew you weren’t at immediate risk anymore, but those days of waiting are agony. Shrio can’t stand still - if he stands still then he thinks about it, and immediately jumps to the worst case scenario - so he’s always up and trying to keep his mind occupied with tasks, hand constantly hovering over his pocket to make sure he’s got his phone on him. He’s so scared that he’s going to get a call of the worst, that you’ve taken a turn and aren’t going to make it, to the point that he keeps checking it throughout the days, keeping it close even though realistically he knows that he wouldn’t be the one getting that call if something happened. 
Once the visits start you’re not allowed more than a few people in your room so the Summoners have to visit in pairs. Shiro is the first to visit with Kengo, and it takes a lot of running between floors and Kengo being too stubborn to ask the reception for directions before they’re finally directed to your room, and though they’re warned beforehand that you won’t be awake Kengo storms inside with Shiro hot on his heels. At the sight of you Shiro’s chest tightens. There’s bruises, cuts and tears everywhere he can see, the majority of them bandaged up and sterilized yet still painful to look at; he can’t imagine how much they must have hurt, how much they still hurt, and he has to tear himself away and focus on your face so his mind doesn’t immediately dip back into those worst case scenarios. Despite your injuries your face looks relatively peaceful, though the neutral expression on your face marred by scrapes and gauze makes it hard to just pretend that you’re sleeping and going to wake at any moment. He leaves flowers and a card signed by your classmates and guild members at your bedside before taking a seat right beside you, hesitant to even touch your hand whilst Kengo leans against the wall directly facing your bed. They’re only allowed to stay for a few hours, and when it’s time to leave Shiro reaches out and gives your hand a comforting squeeze, muttering words of confidence under his breath hoping that they’ll at least reach you before he leaves. It hurts to see you in the hospital, but being able to see you still living and breathing, no matter how battered and beaten, gives him hope, a hope that he desperately clings to like it’s a lifeline as he comes to terms with the fact that this isn’t over yet. You’ve got a long way to go - and Shiro hopes above all else that you’ll wake up...right?
Kengo, upon getting the call from Shiro, doesn’t really register the seriousness of the situation - Shiro wanted to explain it to everybody in person rather than over the phone, and most of the time his ‘emergencies’ are usually just some easy to fix problems with some elbow grease and a couple bruised knuckles. It’s because of this that he doesn’t rush over right away, arriving at the meetup point by the time everyone else has convened in a small cluster of concerned faces, and it’s upon seeing their expressions on top of spotting a teacher with them sets of alarm bells in his head. Those are only confirmed once Kengo hears about what happened to you, about the attack and the events that followed. It can’t be real, right? Most people who want to get revenge or get violent need only to open the app so they don't have to worry about real world damage, so unless someone was actually trying to kill you this doesn’t make sense. And if someone was trying to kill you? There’s gonna be hell to pay, and he’s not gonna sit by and let someone else take care of it for him. 
He knows that obviously they’re not going to be allowed to see you, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least argue it - what if something happens to you again?! He wasn’t there the first time he’s sure as hell going to be there the next time! He can’t just go back to his dorm knowing that you’re out there, even if you’re somewhere safe like the hospital, so it’s no surprise that he tries to sneak out anyway. Of course he doesn’t get far, as the teachers are already on alert in light of what’s just happened and so he gets confronted by Mr. Jinn before he even makes it out of the dorms. He can’t convince Kengo to go back to his dorm room, so Mr Jinn instead offers for him to come walk with him as he does his rounds through the dorm building checking in on the other students - Kengo still feels antsy about not being able to leave, but knowing that he won’t be able to think clearly if he’s stuck in his room by himself, he takes him up on the offer, even if the whole time his mind can’t stop thinking about where you are and how you’re doing. 
Once people are able to visit you in the hospital Kengo’s adamant of seeing you as soon as possible, not being able to see that you’re going to be okay for himself has been driving him nuts. It takes some convincing before they settle on visiting you in pairs, and Kengo ends up tagging along with Shiro when he makes the trip to come and visit you for the first time. He’s gotta admit, he gets ahead of himself and doesn’t think to ask for directions, going off of the room number alone to try and find your room; however, after more than a few minutes wasted going between floors with Shiro right behind him trying to get him to slow down, they finally get directed to the right place. He doesn’t hesitate to swing the door open without a second thought, only half listening to the warning that you won’t be awake when he enters the room and spots you. Now, Kengo has seen you hurt - the two of you have gotten into too many scuffles together to count, both inside and outside of battle zones - he’s seen you so hurt that you’ve had to use your sword to stand, so hurt that when you smiled he could see the blood in your teeth and smearing your lips as you wiped it away. This isn’t the same. You look beat down, weak and frail, surrounded by wires, tubes and machines and it just looks wrong. You’re his partner, guildmaster of the Summoners, one hell of a fighter and friend to just about anyone you meet, you shouldn’t be here, with the doctors still not knowing if you’re going to fully recover or not, let alone wake up at all. 
It makes his blood boil, thinking about how someone went out of their way to actively hurt you, maybe even try to kill you. He doesn’t care if they sought you out deliberately or if you were in the wrong place at the wrong time, but the moment he sees you in that hospital bed it already solidifies the resolve that he had to track down the people responsible and give them a dose of their own medicine - maybe if they’re lucky they’ll still be able to walk by the time he drags them to whoever handles this whole investigation mess. That can be handled later, for now Kengo takes a spot leaning against the wall right next to the window, arms crossed whilst Shiro sits down directly by your bedside. At least you’ll have a nice view to wake up to when you’re finally conscious - he’s not even humoring the alternative, you will wake up. The time passes by too quickly for his liking, and all too soon there’s a knock on the door as one of the floor staff informs them that visiting hours will be concluding soon. A part of him wants to argue staying for a little longer, reluctant to leave your side now that he can finally see you again, but he doesn’t wanna cause even more stress to the people responsible for keeping you alive so the two of them take their leave, with Kengo taking a moment to run his hand along the end board of your bed as he gives you one last glance. Kengo hangs around outside of the hospital for a little longer after that, giving the area a couple rounds. He’s pretty sure those thugs aren’t stupid enough to take another go at you here, they probably don’t even know who you are, but the idea of just leaving you there doesn’t settle right with him. So he stays a while, finding a wall to sit on that gives him a good enough view of your room, just one light amongst many that light the hospital, and he waits - he doesn’t know for what, but the whole time he’s there he’s wordlessly cheering you on, cause he knows that you’re gonna come out of this in one piece. You’ve beat the odds before, and you’ll do it again, he just hopes he’s around long enough to see it happen.
Ryota doesn’t immediately clock on to something being wrong, as Shiro never specified over the phone what the meeting was about, but he’d still rushed to get there nonetheless because most of the time Shiro’s meetings were about something important, or, at the very least, meant that everyone was going to show up. However, he arrives just in time to catch part of the conversation between Moritaka and Shiro, where upon hearing the word ‘hospital’ immediately asks why they’d brought it up. Ryota can’t imagine anyone being able to take you down, especially because you’ve joked about it so many times, so he’s shaken to his very core to learn that you’d been found collapsed, so badly injured that you’ve been immediately transported to the closest hospital for treatment. There’s a few minutes where he hopes that they’ll spin around and say it’s a joke while you sidle up to the group and laugh at how he fell for it, but you’d never been one to play that cruel of a prank and it’s more wishful thinking on his part, one that slowly dies as Toji, Kengo and Agyo show up to receive similar confirmations. He wants to cry, and he does once the situation fully registers. You were out there, badly hurt all alone for who knows how long - how many people had walked past and not noticed? How many hadn’t even heard what was going on until they saw lights flashing as you were carted off? The thought of you alone and in pain brings Ryota to tears, only made worse when the Summoners try to comfort him even though none of them know what could happen to you.
He’s a little bummed that he isn’t able to go along with Shiro when visitations first open up, as he wanted to be the first one to see you; however, with how wound up Kengo’s been, Ryota reasons that it’s probably for the best to let the two of them go, making sure that Shiro takes the ‘get well soon’ card that everyone had signed with him so that you can see how many people are here to support you. When Shiro returns to the guild everyone can see that it was a difficult experience, his expression one of serious distress as he takes a moment to himself before talking to the others about how you’re holding up. The fact that you still aren’t awake worries him the most, as you’ve been kicked down plenty of times and still get back to your feet, never one to stay down for long - it’s been a while since the day you were attacked however, and very little word on your progress is something that sticks him with a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. When Ryota is able to come visit he’s practically dragging Toji along with him to get there as quickly as possible, something the swordsman takes notice of as he too picks up the pace on the journey there.
Having received directions from Shiro from their last visit, it doesn’t take long for Ryota and Toji to find the room you’re staying in, and even though the window is small he can make out your shape lying down on the bed when he peeks in through the door and he feels hope welling up in his chest at the sight of you. You look truly beaten down but you’re still here, and Ryota knows that it’s something to be lucky for as he looks over the injuries that he can see. From the minute that he sits down his hand never leaves yours, holding it close and squeezing it as though expecting you to return the gesture; he tries to keep his spirits up, and talks to you even though he doesn’t know if you can hear him. From filling you in on things that have been happening since you were gone to telling you about all the things you all will be able to do together once you wake up Ryota tells you about them, rattling off how excited everyone will be to see you come home and how many gifts people are making for you to enjoy when you’re in a good enough condition to see them all - if you weren’t the life of the party before you’ll definitely be now! The atmosphere shifts a little every time he mentions you getting out of the hospital, and Ryota can see Toji’s gaze flickering over to your monitor with a carefully neutral expression as though checking to see that it’s still going, that you’re still going, but Ryota’s not gonna give up on you, no matter how long it takes for you to come home.
Ryota ends up staying a little longer than he should have, as visiting hours are over by the time he finally realizes what time it is - the nurses on the floor had allowed him to stay since he didn’t cause any trouble during his visit, or maybe they just felt sympathetic and were moved upon seeing him crying over his beloved friend. He panics a little and apologizes for staying past visiting hours, but even so he still feels reluctant to leave you, being slow to collect his things and taking the time neaten up the gifts decorating your bedside just so he can have a few more moments at your side. 
Toji takes any guild meetings seriously, so it comes as a surprise to no one that he starts heading to the meeting location as soon as he gets word from Shiro. However he knows something is wrong before he even gets there - Shiro’s voice was notably shaken even as he’d attempted to keep himself calm over the phone, pausing at points to recompose himself and continue the call. That was all he needed to begin suspecting that things were amiss, and yet he had no way of gauging just how serious the situation was until he’d arrived to find the Summoners already there, talking amongst themselves with high-strung emotions. The sight of the teacher with them only solidifies his suspicions, and when he approaches he can see that Ryota’s on the verge of tears when the two make eye contact, and the other two Summoners are faring just as poorly. Toji is reduced to silence when he figures out what’s happened in his absence, and he can suddenly understand why everyone looks so pained - their very own guild master, closest friend and ally to many, was viciously brought to their knees, reduced to a bloody mess that left everyone wondering if they were going to even survive the night. Just hearing it paints a violent picture that would make just about anyone sick to their stomach that another being would be capable of inflicting such brutal harm, and that very image keeps Toji awake even as they’re ushered back to their rooms and ordered to stay put until more light is shed on the situation.. 
He keeps himself busy during your first few days in hospital, but that's namely because he’s throwing himself into scouring the streets for any traces of your attackers he can find, following leads and piecing the puzzles of your attack together to get a better picture of what exactly went down. He wasn’t allowed at the scene, given that it at least had to be cleaned before people could use it again, but he’d gotten close enough to see the remains of your blood stubbornly clinging to the gaps in the concrete as it was hosed down, a particularly large pool of it collected close to the wall where you must have been sitting that night. Toji’s seen crime scenes before, quite a few of them stumbled upon by chance, but there’s something different when you’re looking at the exact spot where one of your closest allies was struck down and left for dead, and Toji has to force himself to stop coming back to the scene before the sight’s ingrained into his mind for the rest of his days. It’s no surprise that Toji’s out for blood, Kengo is much the same as the boy wants to see some form of justice against the ones responsible; however as the days pass he’s run into just about every dead end he’s been able to pry to the surface. He’s angry at himself for not having found the culprits by the time he’s able to finally visit - he wanted to be able to inform you that you could rest easy knowing those responsible were brought to justice, whether that was by his own hands or by other means, so the fact that he can’t frustrates him to no end.
Ryota’s all too eager to get there and see you, practically dragging him along by the arm and telling him to hurry up with a smile on his face as though he’s trying to reassure the swordsman that everything’s going to be okay. Yet Toji knows that Ryota’s taking this situation as seriously as the rest of them, regardless of how well he hides it behind a smile and words of comfort. He has to admit that he’s eager to check in on your condition as well, but doesn’t fool himself with hopes that you’ll be up and awake when they arrive; it’s still far too soon to tell, and he’d rather see it for himself before he comes to any conclusions about your current state. Upon arriving at the hospital Ryota takes the lead to guide the two of them up to the floor you’re staying on, and upon checking that it’s your room by looking through the door window, Ryota opens the door and the two of them step inside. It pains him to see you in such a state, and upon seeing your face he is only reminded of the past, when you’d rush headfirst into fights without another thought for the consequences, taking every hit and wound in stride like not even the world itself could touch you. He’d told you back then that one day your recklessness would prove to be your downfall, but he could have never predicted that his words would have been such a painful foreshadowing of where you are now. 
Taking a seat by your side, he can’t find the right words to say - what do you say to someone who could be lying on their deathbed days from now? To someone who might not even hear the words in the first place? Toji starts when Ryota begins to speak to you, clutching your hand in his as he talks as though you’re awake and well, like nothing’s wrong. He has to admit, seeing Ryota talking to you in such a way, entertaining ideas of all the people waiting for you to return back to school, makes him feel a little more at ease as he imagines those scenarios that he talks about coming true. Every once in a while his attention wanes from you as he glances at the vitals monitor beside him, watching the lines on the screen as they dip and rise in what for the moment is a steady rhythm. How bizarre that such a thin line is the lifeline proving you’re still alive, Toji finds himself looking at the monitor for longer than he should, as when he looks away Ryota gives him a comforting smile, worry clear on his face before turning his attention back to talking to you. For the first visit Toji doesn’t stay for too long, and leaves you in the care of Ryota after a few hours. However, before he leaves, Toji brings a hand to rest against your arm, careful to avoid your bandages and wounds as much as possible as he brushes your hair from your face, pausing for a moment before whispering something under his breath and pulling away. He’ll come back, once things have cleared up and he can calm the thoughts already pushing at the corners of his mind, but for now his search for the culprits begins anew the moment he steps out of the hospital doors, hands  gripping the hilts of his swords tight as his expression twists into one of grim determination. He’s going to get you justice - hopefully you’ll live to see it come to fruition.
Moritaka was the first one to arrive when he’d gotten the call from Shiro, being closer to the area in question than all of the rest as he was already on his way there. When he first receives the call there is no reason to suggest that something’s amiss, after all word spreads fast when things go wrong, especially when it involves a certain guild master. And yet when he answers the call Shiro’s tone immediately gives him pause, and he stops walking to listen; all Shiro does is tell him that something has happened and that he needs to get there as soon as possible, but that’s more than enough for Moritaka to pick up the pace, rushing to arrive at the destination in question. When he arrives he greets Shiro and the teacher, resting a hand upon his friend’s shoulder when he sees how openly frazzled and shaken up he is by the situation - rarely does he see Shiro reduced to such a state, and as that same level of concern is evident in Mr. Triton’s face Moritaka realizes that this is far more serious than he had initially thought. When Moritaka gets filled in on what happened while you were out he recognizes the gravity of the situation - app wounds are easy to heal, but wounds procured in actual combat? Especially those that are severe enough to warrant being taken directly to the hospital? Just the thought of your current condition has concern bubbling up to the surface, even more so as the other Summoners begin to show up.
Once you’re allowed people to come and visit the Summoners end up visiting you in pairs, with Shiro and Kengo going first, then Ryota and Toji, and then Agyo and himself. They were fortunate to be able to come and see you so soon after they started up visitation, as the moment words got around there were many people who wanted to come and check up on you for themselves, each one a testament to how many friends you’d brought together during your brief stay in Tokyo. The mood is somber the entire trip there, and upon seeing the entrance to the hospital Moritaka can feel the unease seeping from his small companion, an unease that he’s sure he’s radiating himself. He’s been to the hospital before - nothing major, but the therian has had his fair share of visits for various reasons, both visiting allies as well as checkups - but now? This is different, and he can feel it hanging in the air as he takes the initiative and steps inside, moving over to the reception for directions to your room. One of the nurses is kind enough to escort the two of them there, expression one of understanding when she realizes exactly which room she’s taking them to, and for a moment he could swear there’s also a look of pity that crosses her face before she turns away and starts walking. 
Before they enter the room, Moritaka turns to Agyo and warns him about what he expects to see in there - whilst Shiro assured you were making slow but sure progress, you were still in a far worse state than the last time either transient had seen you, so Moritaka feels responsible for letting the lion dog know that should he need to step out at any time to process it he can. Agyo assures that he understands, and makes the first move to reach for the handle and step into the room, where Moritaka notices he immediately freezes at the sight of you. He can see you too, laid up in bed covered in enough gauze, stitches and bruises to cover the majority of your arms and torso, and even Moritaka has to take a moment to steel himself before softly calling out to Agyo, asking if he’s still okay to step inside. The two of them enter the room, both taking their place at either side of your bed and Moritaka steals a glance at your injuries - Shiro was right about how you were on the way to recovery, as up close like this Mori can see some of your superficial wounds are well on their way to healing. But the deeper wounds are another story, and even covered up it’s clear to see that when you wake up you’re going to be bed bound for a long while so that they can properly heal.
Throughout their visit, nurses and doctors alike filter in and out of the room, most of them stopping by to check on your condition whilst a few take the time to come in and ask how they’re holding up. Moritaka keeps up a light conversation with them, assuring them that they’re fine whilst Agyo mostly keeps to himself - from his reaction Moritaka can understand why the staff might worry, he’s worried too. As the time finally arrives for them to take their leave Moritaka stands up and pats the bed beside your arm, unsure if it’s a good idea to touch you lest he end up hurting you in some way. However, when Agyo hops from his seat he turns to the warrior dog and asks for a few more minutes alone - Moritaka is surprised but offers an understanding nod, resting a hand on the young boy’s shoulder as he leaves. He doesn’t stray far, resting by the wall just outside the room waiting for Agyo to join him; he can’t hear much of what’s being said inside, not wanting to intrude on what is understandably a rough time for Agyo, however his ears pick up on the sound of crying, starting off quiet but growing loud enough for Moritaka to hear outside. His heart breaks at the noise, understanding too well the rush of emotions and uncertainty that hang in the air like a vice, and Moritaka finds himself tearing up as well as the weight of the situation settles within his mind, so much so that he ends up grabbing a fistful of his uniform and staring hard at the floor willing himself not to cry as the sound of crying continues to seep from the other side of the door.
Agyo sensed something was wrong the moment he was called to meet with the Summoners - he doesn’t know why but at the sound of Shiro’s voice the lion dog feels something weird in the pit of his stomach, leaving him uneasy as he goes to meet up with the other members. Normally, if something happened there would be a meeting at the guild, where Shiro would explain the details while the others joked about and tried to lighten the mood, but this time is different. And then, when Agyo arrives, he notices something else is different. Everyone is there, even a teacher he’s never seen before - everyone but you. Agyo asks where you are without thinking, expecting one of the Summoners to say that you’re on your way, but when he’s told that you’re not coming he’s confused. It’s a guild meeting, right? So why won’t you be there? Maybe you’re slacking off and hanging out with Tsathoggua to avoid coming to the meeting - you’d done it before - and he fully prepares to spin on his heel and march right on over there when Kengo stops him, expression grim enough that Agyo pauses on the spot. When Agyo hears your hurt he’s worried that it was some kind of accident, however he’s at a loss for words when they inform him that you were hurt enough to be put in the hospital, where you’ll be for a while. They try to tell him that you’re going to be okay, but he sees it on their faces when they cast each other nervous glances that they have no idea if that’s true; they know just as much as he does, and he suddenly feels sick at the thought of you stuck in a hospital, all alone. The first day passes and there’s no word on your improvement, then the second, then the third, and by that point Agyo’s beside himself, cleaning and re-cleaning and re-cleaning trying to stop himself from thinking about it. Every day he thinks the same thing, ‘you’re going to come back’ and every day that doesn’t happen, leaving a sinking feeling that hangs around the air right up until the day you’re finally allowed visitors.
Originally, the Summoners suggested to Agyo that it would be best for him to hold back on visiting until you’re in a better state - they’d be lying if they said that you were okay, especially once they’d seen how badly you were hurt for themselves. But the lion dog persists; Agyo wants to see you for himself, he wants to see that you’re okay and he’s relentless in assuring that he’s fully prepared for whatever ends up happening when he gets there, even if he’s not entirely sure what to expect. Even before they go in Moritaka has a heart to heart with the younger transient, placing a hand on his shoulder as he informs Agyo that he can leave at any time if he’s not prepared for what he’s going to see - it’s never easy seeing the ones you care about hurt, much less hurt enough to be placed in the hospital, so he wants to give Agyo a serious talk before he decides on whether or not he wants to go in. Honestly, he is kind of irked at first, not wanting to be babied, but he knows the situation is serious from the expressions of everyone since the news first reached him - the Summoners, his friends, even the nurses have been casting the two of them sympathetic looks the whole time they were being led to your room. So he listens to what Moritaka has to say, and, once he’s finished, Agyo’s the first one to reach for the door, trying to steel himself for what’s behind the door.
He’s not as prepared as he’d proclaimed he was, as the moment he opens the door it hits him all at once. It doesn’t feel real, not really, as though it’s a dream he’s about to wake up from at any moment, but the dull beep of your monitor is the only thing that feels real, and he fixates on it. He watches it as it moves, a stable rhythm for now, and he stands in the doorway until he hears Moritaka’s voice behind him, asking if he’s okay. Putting on a brave face, Agyo moves out of the way and sits down at your side while Moritaka takes a seat at the other side, and Agyo finally looks at you. You look in better condition than what he’d first thought, with the way he’d listened to Shiro describe your appearance he was expecting something scary, but now? You just look like you’re hurting, even though your expression is neutral. He tries to imagine what would happen when you woke up - the lion dog hopes that he’s here when it happens - he’s got a few choice words about how much you worried everyone, though he’s sure that scolding would just get waved off with a laugh as you lean over in your bed and give him head pats. 
When he closes his eyes he can almost feel your hand on his head, and he tries his best to hold onto that when he opens them and faces you again. The two don’t stay for long, as they’ve got to return back to the guild soon, but as Agyo hops off of his chair to leave he pauses, blurting out a request for a few more minutes alone before he leaves. Moritaka gives him a look, one of understanding, and takes his leave, and as soon as the door closes the room feels quieter, only the sound of that monitor beeping as he looks at you. He doesn’t know what to do, or what to say, but after a moment of looking at your face he reaches out a paw and holds your hand, clutching it tight even though he knows you probably won’t feel it. Agyo whispers something, more to himself than to you, but it’s a plea for you to come back; it’s so quiet, but those words are like a catalyst as his vision blurs with tears as they roll down his cheeks and soak into his fur, and he cries, choking out those same words again and again as he wipes desperately at his eyes. He just wants you to come back, please, come back.
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