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baku-bowl · 3 years

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broke 1,000 followers (the fuck? I don't even make content people), so decided to write up a list of some (but not all, I'll make other lists later) of my favorite Bakugou-centric fic recs. my tastes run towards hurt/comfort, as you'll probably figure from the list. if there are some Baku-centric fics that you've enjoyed that aren't on here, please add them - this is definitely not a complete list of the ones I've read and love, but I'm always up for some recs. <3

fair warning, most of these are wips.

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Social Media 101 by WindsChild8178

Part 1: Survival Guide to Fucking Up

[Solely Bakugou’s point of view]

Katsuki Bakugou doesn’t have a gentle bone in his body. He’s aggressive in everything he does and does everything with 100% of his heart in it. After the Sport’s Festival, Katsuki starts to get harassed by strangers for his unheroic demeanor. It starts with letters but it doesn’t end there. The moment Katsuki realizes the harassment has entered dangerous territory and he needs to tell someone, it’s already too late.

Part 2: Post Traumatic Life Disorder

[Point of View opens up to Bakugou, teachers and classmates]

When the Dorms are finally built, everyone is settling in well, but things become tense as people begin to realize something isn’t right with the recently rescued Bakugou.

[Cannon compliant right up to after the License Exam]

hands down my favorite fic in the fandom right now. it’s the one that converted me into a Bakugou lover. if you have any fondness for Bakugou as a character then it’s likely you’ve read this one already, but if not, I can’t recommend it enough. incredibly depressing, but with the hope that comfort is coming soon in the next few chapters.

The Kids Will Be Alright, Eventually by NotWithThatAttitude

Bakugou is spiraling in the aftermath of Kamino and his friends are starting to notice. He's stubborn, aggressively independent, and less than willing to dig into his past, but after a breakdown that ends with a painful secret revealed, he starts to get help.

Whether he likes it or not.

Meanwhile, a new kind of villain threatens an uneasy peace following the loss of Allmight. Whispers build as a new narrative slowly takes shape:

Hero society needs to change.

Feat. Therapy, Dadzawa, best boy Kirishima, dysfunctional families, healing, growing up, and the mortifying ordeal of being known

guys.. the medical accuracy of this fic is just... *chef’s kiss*

I rarely see mental health genuinely handled well in fics, but this one goes above and beyond. kudos to the author for doing such excellent research into psychology, and making the application of it in here not-boring. also, while this one does have abusive!Mitsuki, it’s done in a way that feels realistic, and how I usually will see it occur in real life, rather than just for the hurt/comfort feels.

fair warning, the fic can be incredibly triggering (themes of severe depression, PTSD, panic attacks, rape survival, abuse survival, suicidal ideation/attempted suicide, among other things), so be safe and heed the tw’s if you decide to read. legitimately one of my Top Favorite fics in this fandom.

Lock and Key by autochorystalize

Bakugou made a choked, gravelly noise before croaking out a low, “You can’t be serious.” His fingers ached to blow up everything in the room.

“I’m sorry, young man, but you can’t change reality! This sometimes happens.” Recovery Girl clicked through his file, adding a new symbol in a previously empty slot.

- - -

A pair of eyes discreetly locked on to an explosive blond plowing his way forward, parting people in his path. He recognized the kid, of course. Anyone in the underbelly of society would recognize him, after the publicity of both UA’s Sports Festival and the events leading up to All Might’s fall. The uniform he was wearing cast away any doubts about the young man’s identity.

It was a bit of a surprise that the little firecracker presented as an omega.

- - - - - - - - -

Or: there are certain types of evil that seemed too distant, archaic violations and perversions that would never actually threaten bright-eyed heroes-in-training in the clean, modern world...but sometimes those evils aren't as distant as one might think.

remember when I said that I love a/b/o fics that are full of plot and world-building and gender-induced tension? that’s this one. the OC’s are fabulous and you love to hate ‘em. also, it’s the fic that made me fall head-over-heels for the TodoBaku dynamic, so it’s got a special place in my cold, dead heart.

be warned, there are rather explicit non-con scenes between an adult (OC) and a minor (Bakugou) in this one, but the author warns for them in advance, and you could likely skip those parts without missing too much if you need to.

Never and Always, Eventually by Wawa_Boonliang

"Katsuki can remember the exact moment that he and Deku…that he and Midoriya Izuku became friends. He can also remember the moment he and Izuku became fierce rivals, a time when they were almost enemies.

However, what he remembers most clearly about their relationship is the moment that they moved passed rivals and became something more close than mere friends. Something more like brotherhood, something forged in fire and secured in the middle of a battlefield or in the midst of natural disaster where the number of the dead was climbing ever higher. And then it was torn from him."

Katsuki is given a second chance. A chance to save everyone. A chance to change everything.

But should he?

y’all. I’m a slutty, slutty whore for time travel fics. a time travel fic with autistic!coded Bakugou? it was love at first read.

Lessons Learned by Sif (Rosae)

Rather than the police station, Katsuki's friends bring him to a hospital after rescuing him from the villains. His wounds were minor, but it didn't make having them treated any less important. As it would so happen, Best Jeanist was also brought to this hospital after the attack.

Sometimes, small choices have a big impact on how a story plays out.

classic Bakugou hurt/comfort. this fic opened me up to the potential that could be a genuinely good Best Jeanist & Katsuki mentor-mentee relationship, and I kind of dig it and search ravenously for it in other fics now. I’m also a huge fan of the behind-the-scences Pro Hero Chat group.

Slope by sunfleurmoon

“I’m not a hero. Or a good person,” Katsuki says, giving Aizawa a pointed look, “So leave me alone. I don’t care about the League or UA, or you—” The two years he’s been away have been fine, more than fine, fucking fantastic actually if you ignore the bi-monthly near-death experiences. He doesn’t need this place. He doesn’t miss this place.

And yet, longing, a childish desire to tear up, or maybe blow something to bits, they all twist in his chest like a band of traitors regardless. “—I just want to go home.”

Or: the one where Katsuki and Izuku fail the first term exam, Aizawa discovers their pasts, and Katsuki is booted from UA. Featuring questionable descriptions of villain organizations, a slightly illegal moving shop, and your favorite emotionally constipated badass in distress with a newly discovered penchant for collecting strays.

paaaaaaiiiiiiiin. the hurt is ALIVE in this one. lots of tortured, angsty exploding child goodness. the OC’s are excellently crafted, and the Bakugou & Eri relationship? beautiful. definitely deserves a read.

Ground Zero by WindsChild8178

In the wake of Kamino, Katsuki is tested more than anyone could imagine. Bound by a villain’s quirk to keep his silence or die, he lives each day knowing it might very well be his last. He continues to work towards becoming a hero, keeping his secret from his classmates and teachers, focusing on making it through each day and trying not to allow the panic or depression to get the best of him. When the villain finally corners him with demands in exchange for his life, there is really only one answer Katsuki Bakugou can give.

honestly don't know which I want updated more - social media 101 or ground zero. this author's fics are amazing, and I really wasn't expecting the twist in this one. can't wait for windschild to come back to this fic some day.

The Defect by LadyGreenFrisbee

"Why do you want to win the Sports Festival so badly?"

Because I want to see if the defect could usurp the masterpiece.

(In which Endeavor holds a terrible secret and Bakugo has to suffer since childhood for it.)

a great concept, and I adore the shouto and Katsuki sibling interaction here. hoping the author will come back to this one some day.

A Name That You'll Remember by Heronfem

Kirishima Eijirou is a Hero. Bakugou Katsuki... is not. Trapped in his toxic workplace and increasingly desperate to get out, Red Riot's days are only brightened by a new villain known as Caution, who's not exactly villainous and keeps accidentally doing good deeds. But when a real villain appears, a threat from the past that demands that Red Riot make the ultimate sacrifice to keep the public safe, Bakugou is forced into saving the day... and eventually, Red Riot himself.

sob story good guy villains are my weakness, this fic is a gem, and I'd kill for the sequel.

Our Hero by AnonymousTwit

He felt everything jerk to the side and throw his balance off before he saw anything, dust clouding his vision and irritating his lungs as the earth itself opened up to swallow them whole. For a single moment, in a millisecond's time, his wild eyes locked with Raccoon Eyes', hers alight with fear and adrenaline-fueled desperation. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized that it was the first time she'd looked at him with something other than long-deserved hatred in days.

And then he was free falling.

After a particularly nasty encounter between childhood friends, the class learns about Bakugou and Midoriya's dark history and practically ostracizes Bakugou while trying to defend Midoriya. An earthquake during an outing has all sides regretting their decisions.

just fucking tear apart my self-sacrificing faves in every way imaginable while their loved ones watch on in terror. 💖🥰💖 this one is heavy on the Bakusquad and Class-1A feels, and VERY heavy on the Mina & Bakugou relationship (platonic).

Running back the tape, watching it replay by Faralyne

For someone ripped from their time, ripped from the few but strong relationships built by time and personal development, by self-reflection and swallowed pride, ripped from the one thing that made him feel worthwhile and needed and put-together, and forced to forge everything over again—Katsuki thinks he is handling it pretty fucking well.

A villain’s quirk sends a 29-year-old Bakugou back in time to his middle school days.

am I a sucker for time travel? yes. am I a sucker for vigilante!bakugou? also yes. am I a sucker for this fic? literally refreshing the page in wait for an update as we speak.

Liability by sandelf

After All-Might dies rescuing Bakugou from the League, Bakugou is determined to prove it wasn't for nothing.

But the world is against him, his grief is overwhelming, and his stability is splitting at the edges.

very self-indulgent bakugou angst. tw for harassment, severe depression, and suicidality.

Special Mentions:

How To Win The Sport Festival: A Step By Step Guide by mhwright

Short re-imagining of the Sports Festival Arc if Shinso had planned a little better and worked a little harder to win the Sports Festival and if the match-ups had been slightly different. Self-indulgent fic of watching him succeed.

this is completely Shinsou-centric, not Bakugou-centric, but I love and adore it and am dying for a sequel. Shinsou is Best Boy here and you'll be rooting for him the whole time.

#fic rec #katsuki bakugou #bakugou #seriously though if you have a rec for me please always assume i will be unbearably grateful for it #and hit me up with it in the comments or through messaging #thanks for the follows y'all!

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suicidalslasher · 3 years

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𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒍𝒚 𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒍𝒚 ➤ 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒆

Here's one of three Carrie White fics!! :D This is honestly short and sweet, plus simple... compared to the other two. But.... it's here and I'm very much happy with the way it came out. I hope you all enjoy it, as well.

Although, the gif is of Sissy, you can pretend it's either version of Carrie.

(Chloe or Angela's. I, personally, just prefer Sissy's. Although, I love all three.) And despite it being Sissy, too, I took inspiration from the (2002) adaption with Angela whereas Carrie never died in the accident of her house.

Instead, she lives and runs away. And yadda yadda. Enjoy!! xx

Warnings: None. Unless you count fluff and love confessions UwU.

“I know she was your friend but c’mon, (Y/N). She was nothing more than a piece of shit… Grow up. Move on.”

“She was a monster, (Y/N). Do you really think she wasn’t? After all she had done? She destroyed everything and hurt so many people… she killed several hundred people, too… if that isn’t a cruel, heartless bitch, I don’t know who or what is.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re just like her…. are you a demon in disguise, too, (Y/N)?”

They said the same exact thing. The statements were always said by different people but the topic of the subject remained the same - Carrie White. Carrie White was the devil. So on and so forth…

It was a constant reminder she no longer was here with us - with me.

The tragedy that struck on prom night wasn’t my fault. Nor, was it Carrie’s.

Carrie had so much anger built up within her, she was bound to explode with rage eventually. And that day just so happened to unravel at the dance. All thanks to the students (and some teachers) of Bates High.

They constantly bullied Carrie for no real given reason, they harassed her for things she couldn’t quite control, either. Not me, though.

I’m not crazy, even if there are people that say I am and even if there are those that put words in my mouth I never said to begin with, too -

It’s not true.

None of it is true.

Everything you’ve read about Carrie White is false. Everything you’ve, more than likely, heard about her is furthest from the truth, also.

She’s not a monster. She never was one. She was just an ordinary girl, begging to be loved, to be happy. And I loved her.

I just… I wish more than anything she realized how much I loved her. I was in love with Carrie White, truly, madly, deeply…. in love with her.

And nobody could ever change how I felt - how I feel - towards her.

The night I was going to confess my feelings, believe it or not, was before the dance. Before everything happened.

The moment I arrived to the dance, well…by then, it was too late. I hadn’t known it yet but almost everyone was trapped inside the gymnasium, nails digging through the doors as they tried - and failed - to escape.

Their blood curling whines and agonizing moans were silenced by the music that played out on the speakers which echoed outside of the windows and bounced back and forth from the building to the parking lot.

I didn’t realize something terrible had happened until I smelled an intoxicating scent that caused my eyes to blur over with tears and caused me to grimace as the odor only grew stronger, thicker.

I winced and gazed around the parking lot which still remained full of different colored vehicles. Confusion struck but after a moment or two later, realization hit like a ton of bricks.

From where I had stood, I saw a huge cloud of gray smoke lingering around the building, only growing more and more thicker in the sky.

When I first arrived, the sky was crystal clear. Not a single speck of white was seen from above. Now, that beautiful shade of blue was replaced with dark and haunting clouds of gray.

Even the moon was no longer hanging in the air for the smoke had it hidden.

The odor that swarmed the air, I realized, was people’s flesh burning. One by one, people within the school were dying and suffocating to death.

Call me whatever you wish, as I’ve been called every name in the book, but I mean it when I say that I could care less about the students and teachers of Bates High. If that made me an insensitive bitch, so be it.

The only reason I even attempted to try to get inside the building was because I remembered Carrie had gone to the dance with Tommy Ross. And I’d do anything to save her.

Expect… I couldn’t.

Every area of the school was locked. Every entrance and exit doors were shut tightly. No matter how hard I tried to open them, the damned thing wouldn’t budge.

I even tried to go through the windows but they were shut, too. There was nothing I could do.

Nothing expect fall to the ground and bury my face in my hands as tears began to fall, one by one, a tear dropped and soaked my hands and stained my cheeks.

Everyone said prom was a night to remember… but I doubt anyone wanted to remember their prom like this.

*~*

The following week after the incident, I heard a knock at my door. Slowly making my way out of bed, I walk down my too small and narrow hallway and open the door once I’ve reached the entrance, glancing at the person behind the screen door.

Sue Snell stood there, hands in her pocket and a look of sadness painted across her face.

“(Y/N),” She began. “Can…. can we talk?”

“About what?” I snarled, not caring if I came off as rude or ignorant or any other definition. I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to sleep and never wake up. I already knew where the conversation was going and what the main subject was going to be about. And I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to talk about it.

“It’s about last week… It’s…. it’s about Carrie.”

“I already know. She’s dead, okay? She’s dead and she isn’t going to come back, you don’t have to remind me.” I go to shut the door but Sue sticks her foot out and stops me from doing so. I narrow my eyebrows at her and give her a questioning gaze.

“Please…” She but all begged. “Tonight. Meet me at her headstone, tonight, would you? Midnight. I’m being serious. Trust me on this, would you? I know you have no reason to… but please.. if not for me, for Carrie.”

“Fine. I’ll think about it. Now, I have to go.”

“(Y/N), wait-”

Before she could finish her sentence, I’m closing the door in her face and storming back to my bedroom, falling onto my mattress with an ‘ugh’ leaving my lips.

For the past few days, I didn’t do anything expect cry and scream into my pillow.

The moment I got back under the covers and buried my face under several blankets and two of my pillows, the tears came rushing back down.

I was surprised I still had tears left in me from all the crying I had done, truth be told.

I tried, really, I did… to be strong but it was so hard. Especially when Carrie wasn’t here to make things better.

It was so difficult to live when the one person you kept yourself alive for is no longer around…. it’s hard to live when your heart is no longer beating.

The day Carrie White died was the day a little part of me died, too.

*~*

It was 11:50PM.

The house was eerily silent. The only noise, from where I was at in my bedroom, was the whistle of the wind and the gentle knocking of tree limbs outside on my window.

I glance at the clock by my bedside table. It now read 11:52.

I sigh and sit up, my feet touching the cold hardwood floor. I rub my hands over my face tiredly as I try to come to a decision whether or not I wanted to meet Sue at Carrie’s gravestone.

I came to the decision… yes, I should go. After all, I wanted to make sure nobody wrote any more harsh and ruthless slurs on Carrie’s grave.

Even in death, they wouldn’t let her rest and wouldn’t stop picking on her. Carrie should be able to rest and yet there’s hundreds of people who forbid her from doing so. It was a shame.

People say Carrie White is a monster or the daughter of the Devil himself but in reality, the only monsters are the ones that won’t leave that poor girl alone.

"If you look in the face of evil - evil's going to look right back at you."

*~*

The time I got to the cemetery it had just turned midnight. As I exited out the car, it seemed as if the howl of the wind grew louder upon my arrival.

“Hello?” I call out. My voice seems loud against the empty area and I grimace; I didn’t realize how wobbly it sounded until I had spoken.

(I blamed that on all the off and on crying sessions I’ve done recently.)

“Sue? Are you there? Hello?”

Nothing.

I groan and face palm, shaking my head from side to side. I should’ve known not to come. I should have known better and yet-

“(Y/N).”

My eyes dart forward and I feel my knees begin to buckle out underneath me and all the air in my lungs is snatched away from me.

“(Y/N).” She repeats, walking toward me and gives me a wry smile. “Hi.”

“C-Carrie?” My voice shook and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. There she was, alive, breathing and all.

And she was right in front of me.

“You… I thought you were dead.” I was speechless. I could barely form any sentences without stumbling over my words.

“That’s why I’m here,” Carrie explained, stepping closer to me. She rests the palm of her hand across my cheek, fingers brushing over my skin and I shudder, goose bumps prickling ever so softly across my arms.

“I didn’t know how to tell you….” She continued, sighing as she moves a loose piece of hair back and out from my face, tucking it behind my ear.

“I didn’t want anyone to know but Sue found me on the side of the road when my house collapsed… she took me under her wing and helped me out.” She informed. Carrie looked up and gave me a shy smile, her cheeks turning a bright rosy red.

“She insisted I should tell you, too… I was wanting to tell you, regardless but… I had been so scared. I’ve been terrified recently…. and with everything that happened, I only got more scared and… well, I thought you’d be like them and laugh at me or go on and tell the world where I was at and-”

“Carrie, I love you.” I blurt, unable to stop the words from forming out my mouth.

“I’d never, in any way, hurt you. I’ve loved you for the longest time and I thought…. I thought you were dead, Carrie… and it truly felt like I lost a piece of myself, too.”

The blush on Carrie’s cheeks grows darker, deeper as she nods. Tears swell in the corner of her eyes and she laughs softly, taking her hand away from my cheek as she wipes her eyes, sniffling quietly.

“I know. Sue told me, too… and I didn’t believe her. How could anyone love a freak like me? The laughing stock? Everyone’s personal punching bag..” Carrie smiled sadly as she shook her head.

“Mama told me it was a sin, you know? Love only is shared between a man and a woman. Not two men or two women together but… I realized I’d rather burn in Hell and be with the person I love than to go to Heaven being the person I’m not. I love you, (Y/N).

“I prayed every night for a friend and you came into my life at the time I needed you the most. You’re not only my best friend but my blessing, too.” By the time she’s finished talking, I’m crying and pulling her into my chest, hugging her tightly.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” I repeat. “From the moment I met you in the library and we bonded over our favorite novels together at the start of school, I knew I wanted to be your friend. I could care less what others thought.

And then when we went to the park that Saturday evening and had a picnic, I knew I loved you then…. I knew that no matter what, whether we were friends or more, I always wanted to make you happy, Carrie White.”

“And you do,” she reassured, voice cracking as she buried her head in the crook between my shoulder and neck. “You make me the happiest girl alive. I’ve never known true happiness until you came into the picture, (Y/N).”

I pull a little bit of ways out and take her face, pressing my hands across her cheeks and with little to no hesitation, I press my lips hungrily against hers.

Carrie, almost instantly, kisses back.

“I love you.” I murmur into the kiss, not daring to pull away.

“I love you.” She muttered. Through the kiss, I can feel the corners of her lips curling up into a smile. A grin finds its way across my face, too.

“Let’s go… let’s get out of here.” She said, pulling back as she looks up and into my eyes. “Let’s leave Chamberlain and never look back.”

And so, well, we did.

Carrie White wasn’t your average or your typical ordinary girl. She had powers, as I came to find out. I knew there was something unique, something special about her and now I knew what it was.

Carrie White wasn’t a demon. Or the daughter of the Devil or none of that sort.

Carrie White was simply just a girl, ready to start her own life and accomplish her own goals and seek happiness.

And I, (Y/N) (L/N) would do anything to help her achieve that.

Carrie White deserved better than to live in fear and shame.

Carrie White, just like anybody else, deserved to be happy.

So, whether you believe me or not, I don’t care.

If you still think she is a monster in disguise or whatever; I do not care.

I know the truth. Sue Snell knows the truth, too. Carrie White is anything but a monster.

Carrie White is, and forever will be, my girl.

And that’s just that.

End of story.

#cierra's stories #my writing #my work #carrie x reader #carrie white x reader #carrie white x yn #carrie white x you #carrie white x fem reader #carrie white imagines #girl x girl imagines #girl x girl fics #girl x girl readers #slasher imagines #slasher fics #horror x reader

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amerrierworld · 3 years

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Hands Off

for the request: The world lacks Lou Miller x reader fics!! Can you do one where Lou gets mad and defensive over reader

Summary: Lou’s friendly biker gang always welcomed you with open arms, except one.

Characters: Lou Miller x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,551

Warnings: fluff but defensive & angsty >:( Lou, harassment, swearing and a lil bit of physical violence (all within good reason I promise)

For the longest time, you thought Lou only really hung out with Debbie, some of the Ocean’s crew, and colleagues from her club. But a couple months into dating she casually slipped in how she hadn’t seen much of her biker gang lately.

“What?” you shrieked from the couch, dropping your book in your lap. She jumped and looked at you from the kitchen, nearly spilling her beer.

“You’re in a biker gang?”

“Well, yeah,” she said, rather matter-of-fact like, “I’ve got a bike. It’s only a matter of time until you’re in a group for bikers.”

“Really? What do you guys do, rob stores and terrify regular home-owners?”

“Yes to the second, no to the first,” she laughed, coming over to sit with you. You threw your legs over hers on the couch, still rather flabbergasted at this revelation.

“So you haven’t seen them in a while, you said? Why not invite them around?”

“You don’t know them, baby. They’re a bit intimidating.”

“Uh, yeah, not yet. Come on! I wanna know your friends, please?” you grinned, wiggling your toes. She caught one of your big toes between her fingers and held you still.

“Fine then, but you’ll have to get some proper biking attire.”

So now, after multiple trips and a few drink nights at Lou’s club, you were heartily welcomed into the biker gang even though you didn’t have a bike yourself, and mostly just tagged around with your girlfriend. And even then you didn’t come on all their trips, finding the cramps of sitting on the back of the bike for too long unbearable sometimes.

Mary was an older, chubby-faced biker, with the face of the neighbourhood grandma who bakes, yet covered from the neck down entirely in tattoos. Paul was her husband, with an afro as white as winter snow, and chains hanging from every pocket and belt loop.

The two of them chatted, joked and laughed with you when in slower traffic or making a much-needed burrito pit stop whenever you went out. The rest of the group was around Lou’s age or younger, and though you felt welcomed by them, you kept to the three of them mostly. It felt nice and familial to hang around, and Lou seemed the most comfortable around Mary and Paul as well.

Then there was one member of the club who would come and go, and you didn’t often see him around, but when you did you weren’t the most chuffed at the sight of him. Tommy was a middle-aged balding man who didn’t seem to really like anyone in the group, but was still there for reasons unknown.

Your distaste was clear to Lou, and you managed to successfully avoid him.. most of the time. On one trip you had taken a well-deserved break near Central Park, lounging in the cozy late-evening weather, with Lou donning her iconic all-black leather outfit and heeled boots that made you swoon.

You were wearing a pink leather jacket yourself. Lou had chortled with glee at the sight of you trying it on, so contrasted to her black leathers and jewel-toned fabrics. Perhaps the rosy coloured leather wasn’t something you would’ve bought for yourself, but every time you wore it, Lou would grin to the point where her eyes would shine nonstop. So you wore it almost every time you went out on her bike together. It was a little bit Pink Ladies-esque, but you quite liked the way it looked.

But Tommy had been looking at you quite.. harshly, somehow. But you could tell he wasn’t checking you out, rather just judging you and your look. He seemed set on being around Lou, who couldn’t be bothered to give him the time of day, only having eyes for you and talking to you as you relaxed by the park.

“Lou,” you began, watching him scamper off to the other side of the group. One of the nice things about being in a biker gang is no one seems to want to bother any of you, letting you hang around in peace.

“Hm?” one of her hands was running through your hair.

“Does Tommy like you?”

She slowly blinked at you in baffled amusement, “like me?”

“Yeah.. I mean either he likes you and is sizing me up cause I’m your girlfriend, or he just despises me as a person.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Don’t give him the time of day, love.”

“Why is he in the gang anyways?”

Lou shrugged, “him and Paul go way back. I don’t mind much, he’s usually not around anyways.”

You pursed your lips in worry, so Lou grasped you close in a tight embrace,

“Don’t worry about him, baby. He isn’t bothering you, is he?”

“No, just his annoying face.”

Lou looked over and saw that indeed, Tommy was giving you a repeated once-over, lingering on the small studs of the pink leather jacket, and her expression immediately soured.

“If he comes close again, I’m gonna clock him,” she growled.

“Hey now, don’t say that,” you giggled.

“Hmph.”

The rest of the time spent at the park seemed to be going fine, if it weren’t for the constant tugging at the back of your mind from Tommy’s incessant stares. The silent harassment from his eyes were making you uneasy, and Lou noticed.

“I am definitely going to clock him,” she said to you again.

“Don’t,” you whined, but not very convincingly.

Later on, Mary started a warm conversation with you, helping your nerves a bit.

“You’ll have to tell me where you got your jacket,” she said, “I have never for the life of me found a jacket with a colour like that. Only browns and blacks, and it’s so boring.”

You laughed, enjoying the way Lou absentmindedly rubbed your waist with her thumb.

“We’ll go shopping then,” you said, barely noticing Tommy walking in and joining in on the conversation, “I’m sure we can help you find something, Mary.”

“I don’t think pink is quite your colour, Mary,” Tommy piped up, eyeing you again, openly now that all focus was on you. You blushed, not from shy happiness like when Lou looked at you, but rather from sickening dread.

“Where’d you get this anyway, a cheap community theatre production of Grease?” Tommy grinned, tugging at the buckle of one of your shoulders. Your eyes flashed, and you slapped his hand away, every hair on your body standing up at his toothy smile, the ugly flash of a worn golden tooth growling back at you.

The tough crunch of Lou’s well-jewelled hand landing on Tommy’s cheek caught you by surprise.

He stumbled back into his parked bike, knocking it over as he landed on the ground, letting out a filthy curse as his nose began dripping blood.

“You broke my nose,” he cried out, “you bitch!”

“Wish I had done more than that,” Lou snarled, her hand still clenched in a fist. Mary and Paul had rushed forward to hold her back, but she didn’t seem too interested in punching him again.

She reached out for your hand and looked you up and down, as if he had given you a kick to the stomach rather than just bully and tug at your shoulder.

“Are you alright?” she asked, while your jaw was still a little unhinged.

“Y-yes, I’m fine,” you replied, a bit lost for words, “but what about you?”

She shrugged, but you noticed her tightly clenched fist and the redness of her skin. As you inspected her hand, Tommy had got up, managing to stop the bleed and gave a rude gesture towards Lou who simply glared back.

“Fuck you,” he said, hoisting his bike back up straight. No one else bothered to check on him or lend a helping hand as he clumsily sped off down the street, leaving the rest of your small group to hang around on the street. Paul sighed in disappointment, but didn’t seem bothered by him leaving. Hopefully for good, you thought.

Mary was the first to break the silence, clapping Lou on the shoulder and congratulating her on a job well done.

“I never liked him anyways,” Lou muttered, as you lifted her hand and kissed her reddening knuckles.

“I think we should get some take-away burritos, don’t you, Mary?” Paul suggested, locking down his bike.

“Oh, yes, come on all of you, on the house,” Mary grinned, taking his hand and heading down the street to the nearest burrito place, the rest following.

“Burritos?” you waggled your eyebrows at Lou, and slowly the anger dissipated from her eyes, because you shoved your hands in the pockets of your pink leather jacket, and with your combat boots and jewelled belt, she thought you had never looked more like a biker, while somehow being the cutest thing she’d ever seen.

“Alright,” she hooked here arm through yours, “but maybe don’t get the spicy one again? You didn’t seem to enjoy it much last time.”

You shoved her playfully, “yeah well, you said that I could take it, and I trusted you completely, which I never will again.”

“You wound me,” she gasped in mocked pain. You lifted her hand again and pressed it against your mouth,

“Only when you sucker punch creeps to defend my honour.”

A/N: Defensive girlfriend Lou Miller to the rescue? yes please!

#lou miller #lou x reader #lou #lou miller x reader #lou miller x you #cate blanchett #cate blanchett x reader #ocean's eight #oceans 8 #oceans8 #ocean's 8 #merry writes #oceans 8 fanfic #wlw #bikers

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lokilickedme · 3 years

Text

Somebody help me chill, this is insane.

(under the cut because long and also pretty traumatic, for me at least)

Crazy neighbor, remember her? Her son destroyed a piece of equipment we had attached to one of our trees at the fenceline last week, she denied it and called us insane liars - that’s the most recent craziness in the ongoing saga of the neighbor from hell. I was sitting here reading my dash tonight and happened to glance over at the monitor for the surveillance camera husband got me the other day to watch that exact spot (where the equipment was smashed) and guess who I see bent over looking through the fence peering very closely at that exact spot? Neighbor’s equally insane son, who we know did the actual dirty work. And I, stupid like I am, took a screenshot of him and then immediately jumped up and ran outside in the dark in my pajamas (nearly 9pm, pitch black, their porch light is off because obviously they’re doing something they don’t want to be seen doing) and I ask “Excuse me, what are you doing?”

This lunatic immediately starts SCREAMING at me - I mean top of his lungs SCREAMING abusive threats, calling me a stupid psycho whore bitch, yelling at me to get my ass back in my house and generally just acting completely off his rocker unhinged nuts - and then his mother comes out and comes over to the fence and gets in my face while I’m just standing there and tells me to mind my own business. I say I am minding my business, I saw him looking through the fence at my property right where we had vandalism happen last week so I came out to find out why he’s interested in my property. She laughed in my face and said “No he wasn’t, he was standing right here looking at his phone like this” and she does this little pantomine of someone looking at their phone, which is funny because she wasn’t out there when he was doing it and there are no windows on that side of her house at all. I ignored her and asked “What are you looking for?” He kept screaming incoherent animal noises and insults from behind her so I asked again, “What are you looking for?” And that crazy woman grinned at me and said “We’re just looking to see what kind of new devices you’ve installed!”

OMG. She didn’t even take a breath in between lying and then contradicting her own lie. And she’s grinning smugly at me the entire time, gesturing around pointing at our property cams and mosquito light (it flashes and apparently she thinks it’s watching her) and my bedroom window - which means she’s been snooping. There is a cam sitting in my windowsill, aimed at the spot where the device was smashed. Every bit of this equipment is on our property, some of it behind a privacy fence. I tell her it’s none of her business what kind of devices we’ve got on our property, but she just yammers over me, and of course numbskull is still ranting like a psycho behind her, screaming at me to mind my own business and get back in my house and leave them alone. At this point he’s pulled out his phone and shoved it over her shoulder toward my face and is recording me, which is just...fucking hilarious...because I’m literally doing nothing but standing there in shock and awe at how nuts these people are, and he’s still screaming abusive curses and names at me while he’s recording.

Anyway, for about 4.5 minutes we stood there with them shouting over me (I know the exact time because it was later discovered that our doorbell cam recorded audio of the entire event) and a little ways into it he screams “I WILL TEAR YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF!!”

At this point psycho woman finally turns around and says “Addison Case!” and pushes him back. He lunges at me and she tells him to go call the police (??what?? I mean...I wish he had...my phone was in my hand frozen solid, locked up because of the glitchy surveillance app I had to install to see the camera, or else I would have called them myself - but my god they really thought I was the one the cops needed to come for??). Meanwhile I’m just standing there on my own property in the dark in my pajamas, all 5 feet and 120 lbs of me, while this rabid animal - he’s a 21 year old college boy - is lunging at me and screaming nonstop, calling me a fucking whore bitch loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear it while his phone’s camera light is in my face blinding me. Crazy lady smiles that smug shit eating grin of hers and tells me to get back in my house, leave her alone, and move the hell away so she can live in peace.

Wow. Just...holy shit.

This is the person who has allowed her dog to attack my very small 8 year old son on our property and send him to the hospital with injuries last year, then attempt to attack him again 2 weeks ago (he is now 9 at the time of the second attack) - again on our own property (in our back yard this time, in our front yard the first time), has allowed her dogs (multiple) to bark all night long and keep us awake (she leaves them outside and then goes away for the weekend and they bark the entire time she’s gone), then she had her crazy violent son destroy the BarkBox we put in our tree on our side of the fence last week (we put it up as a humane way to get the barking to stop without having to listen to her call us insane liars every time we complain about it). Yet...she kept repeating over and over and over for us to leave her alone and stop harassing her.

All I could even do was stand there shaking my head. It was surreal. And frustrating, because they wouldn’t even let me get a word out without screaming over me, and she was doing that infuriating Karen thing where they shove their hand at your face and grin smugly while they’re telling you what you better do or they’ll call someone to make you.

I actually started laughing, it was so ludicrous. She’s committed all those vile offenses against us and we’re the ones that need to leave her alone. We’ve had to file four police reports against her and we’re the ones that are making her life miserable. I just can’t stop thinking about that Liar Liar movie where the repeat offender keeps calling his lawyer to complain that the cops won’t stop arresting him and the lawyer finally yells THEN STOP BREAKING THE LAW ASSHOLE!!

It’s just like that. My god.

SO -

She tells him to call the police again, and this limp dick shoves that phone light right up to my face and says “You think she’s worth calling the cops over? Look at her, she don’t look worth it to me.” And bitch starts laughing. My god, these people are subhuman, I swear. I’ve never seen anyone act like this in my life, over a person doing literally nothing to them.

So she finally orders her rabid son (who is just about foaming at the mouth, I swear he’s making these barking animal noises at me, it’s weird as hell) into the house and they walk away, with him still ranting like a madman until the door closes behind them. I immediately go inside my own house and call my husband, who was way out at the back of our property in our camper (he self quarantines each day after work out there to protect us because there have been a lot of covid cases at his workplace) and he didn’t know anything was happening. He immediately runs up to the house and I tell him I caught neighbor’s thug son messing around at our fence and that when I went out he threatened to kill me.

Tom grabs something - I don’t even know what it was, I think it was this piece of board that was sitting by the door, we’ve done a shelving project recently and a couple of leftover pieces have been there for a few days - and he stalks outside toward neighbor’s house. I hear him yell COME OUT HERE BOY!!! and I stg you guys, if I wasn’t on the phone calling 911 I might have thought about getting naked right there and then because damn.

So anyway, let’s not go there. This is serious by god lol (look for this to show up in a fic soon though because material like this doesn’t get handed to you for free every day).

I call 911 and say the neighbor’s son just threatened my life and for them to come quick because he’s still over there but I know he’s going to leave any second (this is his mom’s M.O, the two times the police have tried to go talk to her she gets in her car and leaves before they can get from my house to hers, and I know he’ll do the same because COWARDS). Tom comes back and says the little pussywillow wouldn’t come out of the house. He’s breathing fire, you guys. Pure fucking fire. I tell 911 to get somebody out quick before the kid leaves, and just about 2 minutes after I hang up he does just that - we see him blast past our house in his truck and he’s gone, and then the police arrive about 3 minutes after. I’m so mad I can’t see straight. If they’d been able to see him in the state he was in, they’d have arrested him on sight.

Two squad cars (big SUV’s) pull up and block her driveway with full lights flashing, which makes me laugh because suddenly we’ve got neighbors coming outside to see what’s going on. I meet the officers outside, and the crazy bitch next door does the same, yelling “Hello Officer!” and waving to them as they’re coming up to my porch.

They talk to me and Tom for a long time, I tell them everything that happened, they interview Big (he and Little were inside the open door and heard it all), we fill out our statements and talk with them more until one officer goes next door to talk to neighbor. We can hear her dripping her fake sugar and spice while they’re talking on her porch and my husband loses his shit - he heads toward her house and yells “We got the entire thing on recording, don’t even try to lie! Your kid, threatening to kill my wife?!?” (he’s referring to the camera in my bedroom window, which actually only recorded about 2 minutes because I don’t have it set up correctly yet, but they don’t know that). The officer yells at him to get back, which, yeah - he shouldn’t have done that, but for god’s sake the woman’s peckerhead son just literally threatened murder on a member of his family, this is the final fucking straw and he’s mad. And as he’s coming back across the yard the officer that stayed with me points at our new doorbell camera, just freshly installed as of about two weeks ago, and asks if it’s on. We haven’t even really figured out how to use it yet, but yes, as far as we know it’s on. The incident happened around the side of the house, but the doorbell records audio.

God bless technology.

I invite the officer inside the house and Tom gets his phone, pulls up the app for the doorbell, and starts skipping through the recording looking for the right timestamp. Up till this point all they have is me saying the guy screamed a lot of abusive profanities at me and threatened to tear my head off, and they’re taking me serious but probably not that serious, you know? Neighbors fight all the time, wars start over barking dogs, things get exaggerated, we’ve all seen the TV dramas.

Until Tom finds the segment on the footage and starts playing it to them on his phone. It’s kind of quiet because we were a good distance away, but you can hear the guy screaming just like I said he was. The officer asks if we have a speaker we can play it through so he can hear the words more clearly, because he needs proof of threat and that’s entirely in the words.

You guys, I’m tellin’ ya, sometimes you get a chance to fucking SHINE. My husband is a musician and this cop is asking him if he’s got a good speaker. So within minutes Tom’s got this huge venue-style amplifier designed for broadcasting music to the back wall of a freaking stadium pulled out into the livingroom and he’s hooking his phone up to it, and then he hits play and the other officer comes back from next door to join us and I can tell by the annoyed look on his face that neighbor bitch has likely charmed him and shed a plethora of persecuted tears and spewed her lies about how we’ve been harassing her forEVER and I think for a second that it’s a total loss now, he’s made his mind up in her favor.

And then...away we go. Tom cranks the volume on the speaker and they both lean in to listen closely.

Just about a minute into the recording they have their proof - thugnuts screaming I WILL TEAR YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF!!!

Both officers nod, close their notebooks, and the second officer makes a phonecall while the first one turns to me and says “That’s terroristic threatening and it’s a class C felony. You’re going to need to go to the PA’s office with all the reports you’ve filed against them so far and all your evidence from tonight including that recording and hand it all to them. They’re likely going to issue a no-contact so that he can’t interact with you ever again.”

This is a victory, but it’s just the first step, and I feel sickeningly disheartened that it’s all in my lap to do everything. I want them to go demand his whereabouts from his mother and just go get his ass and haul him in. But no, I have a ton of legwork to do now because these horrible people won’t fucking stop.

After several more minutes of me asking questions about what exactly we need to do and where we need to go, etc etc (I’m competent but I’m also fucking rattled, someone threatened to kill me tonight and I’m blanking hard on the instructions he’s giving me) they finally wrap it up and leave. They’ve been in my house for a half hour waiting for me to finish filling out the report (I had to ask for more paper because honey I’m getting ALL the details in there) and I can just imagine how freaked out neighbor is when she sees what time they finally move their cars from in front of her driveway.

And now I’m coming down from the weird calm that I had through the entire event, and my heart feels like it’s going to EXPLODE. I had heart surgery two months ago, do I need this?? The pathetic part is that I know now just how stupid those people are, and I know this won’t be the end from their side by any means. We’ll start finding more stuff broken, or he’ll start climbing over the fence back at the back of the property to steal stuff from husband’s tool shed, or my tires will get slashed. These people are that dumb and hateful, they proved it tonight. He said if we had animals he would kill them, and then he made the same threat against me. How stupid does a person have to be to stand there with his phone out recording himself ranting and making threats against a woman standing in her own yard in her pajamas? Big tough man there. And his mama grinning at me the whole time, telling me I’m crazy and she’s concerned for her own safety because of me, while her son is standing right behind her threatening my life.

I’m just...my god, I don’t even know what to think. I thought people only acted like this in TV dramas, seriously. I’ve seen some shit in my life but this particular brand of stupid has up till now evaded me, but now it’s been in my face and I’m sort of in shock.

I don’t like guns. At ALL. Tom has always had at least one hidden carefully away, safely locked up away from the house, but now there are two inside my house in immediate grabbing range. He insisted that I let him show me how to use them. Rules were laid down for the boys - never touch, never, don’t even get close to them - and now there is a box of shotgun shells on my fireplace mantel and a singleshot rifle by the door. I hate this so damn much.

Don’t pick it up unless you’re ready to use it, he told me. Without even thinking, I said back, “If I touch it it’s getting used.”

I HATE THIS SO FUCKING MUCH

My god. I told the cops that the drug lord that lived over there four years ago was a better neighbor than this woman. They didn’t even laugh.

I guess they’re right, now that I think about it...it isn’t funny.

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nny11writes · 2 years

Note

12, 14, shera. 13 entrapta (because this would be funny to see). 13 catra also. 15 shera. 15 star wars. listen. just tell me your unpopular opinions on everything please

For the salty fandom ask game, which tumblr is not letting me link to but oh well I guess??? SHE RA

12. Is there an unpopular arc that you like that the fandom doesn’t? Why?

This is a hard one because the fandom at large likes every arc, it just evens out across the encampments of shippers lol. I feel like the most unpopular arc is probably Glimmer's descent in season 4 which I enjoyed a lot because, I mean, c'mon, getting to see Glimmer not fight with herself and instead just selfishly choose things was fantastic. She really just started doing what she wanted without actually considering anyone else or any other options, and it was so fascinating to watch her go for it after several seasons of this side of her being hinted at.

14. Unpopular opinion about your fandom?

We can WAAAAAY too much about shipping and want to make it everyone's problem.

"That isn't canon!" "I don't think there was enough subtext!" Blah blah blah, and?????? Shut the fuck up my dude.

Stop tagging your anti-whatever shit with shipping tags, block that tag on your side and move along. I don't care why you think C/A is abusive, I don't care why you think A/G is abusive, seriously shut up or keep it in your corner of the fandom.

I've been in fandoms that break down into smaller fandoms (star wars is by era ususally, zelda is by game, etc) and every fandom I've been in has done a good job of keeping their negative opinions contained to spaces where it's others who share it. She Ra is the first fandom I've been in, and I've been doing this 20 years now, where people really couldn't live and let live because they like this ship and if you don't then you're an awful abusive asshole to fit their narrative of victimhood.

I'm sick of that shit. To death.

You want to know what one of my favorite rarepair crackships is? Catra/Bow. But if I dared to explore it at all, in any fashion, I'd be murdered. The only fic I've ever taken down due to harassment after posting what an explicit Catra/Bow/Glimmer fic where they, as two consenting adults in a poly relationship, agreed to have sex with one another in large part to turn on their girlfriend Glimmer for her birthday. TERFs found that and gave me hell.

Like, you could probably find some of the really awful and explicit shit I posted when I was 13 and had no fucking business writing explicit fic or posting it, but now I'm locked out of my old accounts and can't actually remove them. But no, let's go wild over the C/B/G fic instead!

Ooooooo, you can probably tell that this pisses me off just because I keep rambling on, but god I'm tired. I'm a multi-shipper, ship what you want to, tag it appropriately and post in appropriate spaces kind of person. Don't like, don't read, and fuck off with your purity bullshit.

...This is pervasive enough that I'm actually fully expecting some people will unfollow me for that answer lol.

13. Unpopular opinion about XXX character? (Entrapta and Catra)

I feel like I don't have any unpopular opinions about Entrapta over all? Probably the most controversial thing is that I like that the Princess Alliance was shown mistreating her by leashing her. It's very much portrayed for laughs, but whether they meant to or not think it helped set up another difference between the alliance and the horde. Yeah, at first she's chained up in the Horde as a prisoner and we see how long that lasted, but she is literally given more trust and freedom with the horde. Where's Entrapta? Who knows! As long as she shows up again at some point we don't care. Is she distracted by tech again? Annoying, but alright she IS the tech person. Then Entrapta goes back to the alliance and once again they are just trying to control parts of her because they don't understand. IDK, I like the contrast of it, so even though it wasn't put in respectfully it gets a weird pass from me.

Unpopular but not in the circles I run? Catra did more than enough for a "redemption" on the show. It is amazing how many people hate that take.

Unpopular within the circles I run? Not sure this counts or not, but Catra really is a lot like Shadow Weaver/Light Spinner, and I don't think we lean into that nearly enough (either in the show or fandom tbh). Light Spinner especially really reminds me of Catra in early seasons, and seeing S5 Catra by the end is like seeing what Light Spinner could've been under different circumstances. But Catra is also a lot like Shadow Weaver, she is not wrong or lying when she says she sees herself in Catra. I think we spend too much time trying to justify why Catra is nothing like her, when they are really very similar. And I think that's a big disservice to the narrative of abuse in the show. No one wakes up one day saying, "Well gee golly, today I think I'm going to start being an abuser!" They slide into it and eventually start making justifications to themself for why it's okay/they're allowed/whatever to do what they do. Catra could've been the next Shadow Weaver easily, pretending otherwise lessens the impact of her choices to try and change her own behaviors and thoughts.

15. Unpopular opinion about the manga/show?

The best friend squad is boring. Sorry y'all, S1 and S2 of the BFS are really not that interesting to me. It feels super basic, and the conflict has to be shoved onto them from other sources to have their dynamic work. I think there should've been more infighting and especially with Glimmer jealousy issues. Like, you don't have to go wild with it or anything, but they only start to become interesting to me in S3 when Shadow Weaver starts fucking shit up in the background.

They are cute and fun and I enjoyed their stuff! They just! Are also! Really boring!

(I used to actively filter out any fic that was too focused on the BFS, Glimmer, or Bow. At times I even blocked Adora because I live for the personal conflict drama and that was only even explored with Catra during S1-2)

STAR WARS

15.Unpopular opinion about the manga/show?

I like that TCW never really talks about the way the clones are treated. TCW is mostly set from the perspective of the Jedi Order in some way, and I wish there had actually been more jokes made in show about it to be honest. The way clones are treated is horrifying, objectifying, and disgusting. I wish we could've seen more of how awful they were treated side by side with how no one seems to care.

Yes, the Jedi care about the clones, but they are so busy trying to survive themselves that there's nothing left in the tank to try and help them out in a meaningful way. Some members of the Senate care about the clones, but they are either focused on other peoples lives or are too afraid of losing their army to do anything. I love that. I love how fucked up that is, and I love that there are so many times in TCW that something horrible happens to a clone but then gets overshadowed by something else.

The citadel, of course comes to mind. I really love that there were troopers who died horrifying deaths during that rescue, who's bodies are left behind, who are quickly mourned through a wince and then abandoned. Then a Jedi dies and "Well hang on now, we gotta carry his body and give him a proper farewell!".

It's messed up, and I love it.

#salty ask game #ask game #thanks for playing!#enjoy my horrible opinions! :D

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baby-blossoms · 4 years

Text

Potent

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Word Count: 3,795

Summary/Request: “I don't know if you write for Harry Potter, but can you do a fic about Draco Malfoy if you do? It doesn't have to be anything specific, I just love your writing!” - Reader smells Draco in the Amortentia potion without realizing it’s him.

Warnings: Light cursing

You were exhausted from staying up all night writing an essay for charms class over simple things your father had taught you ages before you had started your sixth year at Hogwarts. You couldn’t say that you were extremely talented in every subject you took at the great school of witchcraft and wizardry, but charms came naturally to you. Your mother was an outstanding Auror, and your father also worked for the Ministry of Magic. You were never fully informed on what exactly he did. His job was clearly out of the ordinary, as he never spoke about it. He was always out at odd hours for work, but you never questioned it. You were just happy that they both came home safe every night.

You couldn’t say that your family was thrilled when they found out you were a Slytherin. The family came from a long line of Ravenclaws on your father’s side and Gryffindors on your mother’s side. They were baffled as to how you found yourself placed among Slytherins. Nevertheless, they were proud of you and how hard you were working toward being one of the top students of your class,

“Another reason I believe you should have been placed in Ravenclaw! Perhaps you could consult with the headmaster about the matter, Y/N?”

Your mother had said once. You rolled your eyes at her all those years ago and simply replied,

“The sorting hat never makes mistakes, mama. You know that. Being a Slytherin may not have been what you wanted or expected, but it is my destiny.”

You withdrew yourself from the memory as you tuned back into your friends chattering away about the latest gossip among the school. Some people you had never heard of were getting back together for the third time this year. It was impressive how often a couple could split and get back together in the span of a few months.

“Y/n, do you fancy anyone?”

Your friend Danny asked, knocking his shoulder together with yours and raising an eyebrow in curiosity. You rolled your eyes and slapped him on the arm lightly with a book you were carrying.

“You know I don’t have time for a relationship, Danny.”

Danny gave a long drawn out sigh and motioned to a girl in blue and bronze robes passing by.

“Honestly, you should’ve been holed up with those stuffy Ravenclaws.”

You shot him an annoyed glance and replied.

“Ravenclaws are not stuffy, Daniel. They value intelligence, I can’t imagine why you weren’t placed there.”

Danny snorted out a laugh,

“There it is! Every time I annoy you, I’m reminded why you were put in Slytherin. It’s the wicked sarcasm alone, I think.”

Another one of your friends chimed in,

“Have you seen her magic in action, Danny? It's the power, not the sarcasm. Salazar Slytherin valued powerful, cunning students with pure blood, and the only family with more pure blood than hers is the Malfoys.”

You didn’t comment, a part of you flattered by your friend's compliment toward your powerful magic. However, the prejudice toward purebloods among the Slytherin house still put you off a bit. Your mind wandered to the Malfoy family after a moment. They truly were a powerful and well-known family, but you knew from your mother’s mixture of anger and disgust when talking about Lucious Malfoy, they were not well known for good reasons. A chill ran up your spine when you thought back to the first and only time you had seen Lucious Malfoy in person.

He towered over you, his eyes practically piercing into your soul when you accidentally bumped into him on Diagon Alley while buying supplies for your first year. Your mother had pulled you away from him as if he was infected with a highly contagious disease, and practically shoved you behind her. She had spoken to him for a moment, her voice friendly to anyone else’s ears, but you knew your mother. You heard how uncomfortable she truly was.

That was the extent of your interactions with the Malfoy family. Your mother had drilled it into your head that you were not to step foot near Draco Malfoy, let alone speak to him. She was terrified of what might come if you befriended, or worse, annoyed the young Malfoy. You had agreed, as if Draco would ever speak to you in the first place. He was far too concerned with himself and harassing Harry Potter for that.

The only thing that made avoiding Draco difficult at this point was not only that you were in Slytherin with him, but you also had almost the same schedule. Speaking of which, you realized you had passed your potions class, and quickly shouted a farewell to your friends as you doubled back and made your way into the room.

You gathered with the rest of the Slytherins. The class stood in front of a table that had four cauldrons upon it. One of the two you could smell from where you stood, and you found it almost intoxicating. Your eyes glazed over as you stared intently at the cauldron, and you were only brought out of your hazy thoughts of how exquisite it smelled when two boys entered the room. Harry Potter and his best friend, Ron Weasly. You scoffed quietly, annoyed that he could just waltz into class late and he seldom got any sort of repercussion for it. The one time you were late to Transfiguration Professor McGonagall made you write an essay on why punctuation is important for a witch or wizard to practice.

You glared at the two fighting over the last clean looking copy of the textbook and glanced to your right, feeling someone’s eyes on you. Your glare dropped immediately and was replaced by surprise and confusion at finding Draco Malfoy eyeing you with a small smirk. You felt a small blush spread across your cheeks. You had never fully looked at Draco before. His eyes were stone grey with flecks of blue toward his pupil, and his features were delicate yet sharp at the same time. But damn you had to admit he looked good in green. You found that you had been staring at him far too long, and abruptly looked away, turning back to Hermoine Granger. She stood in front of the cauldron you had been staring at earlier.

“It’s rumored to smell differently to each person according to what attracts them. For example, I smell freshly mowed grass and parchment, and spearmint toothpaste.”

She said before you were distracted once more. You felt as though he was watching you still. You couldn’t help but give in to your curiosity and steal another glance at Draco. His gaze had not shifted from you, and you felt another wave of heat across your cheeks. You weren’t used to catching the interest of any boy around Hogwarts, let alone the one boy you weren’t supposed to interact with whatsoever.

“Miss Y/l/n?”

You looked back to Professor Slughorn, he looked to you expectantly with an amused smile. Clearly you hadn’t been paying attention, and you felt your cheeks burn even hotter and you replied without hesitation.

“I’m sorry Professor, I was distracted. Could you repeat the question for me?”

Slughorn chuckled and stated,

“I was asking if you would like a turn in smelling the Amortentia potion? I saw that you were particularly transfixed with it earlier.”

You knew that if your cheeks could blush harder, they would. Making your way toward the potion, you tried your best to focus on speaking clearly as the scent practically grabbed a hold of you and begged you to taste the potion.

“I smell-” you paused for a moment, trying to figure out what had intoxicated your senses, “pomade, mint, apples, and...”

You trailed off, there was one more scent, but you couldn't pinpoint what it was.

“Yes, pomade, mint, and apples.”

You finished awkwardly. Slughorn smiled knowingly toward you, and gestured for you to return to where you had been standing earlier. You stalked back to your spot, refusing to let your embarrassment show in front of the class.

Professor Slughorn continued on about Amortentia for a moment, then introduced how the student with the best brewed potion that day would receive a vial of liquid luck. You rolled your eyes, knowing for a fact that you would not be receiving the vial. Potions weren't necessarily difficult for you, but they were by far not your strongest point.

You ended up being right, of course. Though, to your surprise and slight annoyance, it was Harry Potter who received the Liquid Luck. You couldn’t deny that you were jealous, yet couldn't help a heavy eye-roll when he tried to take it from Slughorn’s grasp before he was done speaking. You reluctantly clapped along with the rest of the students after Harry was instructed to use his potion well, but your facial expression showed exactly how you felt. You appreciated all that Harry had done, and what he had been through, but what would he of all people need liquid luck for? He always seemed to manage fairly well without it.

You gathered your books and made your way out of the potions classroom, toward charms class. Breath caught in your throat as you were abruptly tugged into an empty corridor. Turning, and drawing your wand in defense, you were more than surprised to lock eyes with Draco Malfoy once more. You weren’t sure what to say in such an instance, as you never dreamed you’d be alone with him, let alone by Draco’s choice.

“Well, hello then.”

You said. Draco eyed you carefully, his expression neutral as he introduced himself.

“I’m Draco. Draco Malfoy.”

You nodded in response, surprised once more by the fact he assumed anyone in the school didn’t know his name by now.

“Yes, and I’m-”

Draco cut you off,

“Y/n Y/l/n. I know.”

You nodded once more, not entirely sure where to go from there. He was the one pulling you into empty corridors after all.

“Did you need something, Draco?”

Draco didn’t respond for a moment. He just stood silently, staring at you. His skin was practically flawless. It reminded you of a porcelain doll.

“I realized we’ve never spoken before. We’ve been in the same house for six years, and we’ve yet to have a conversation.”

You couldn’t help but feel confused once more.

“Well, not to be rude, but it doesn’t seem that you talk to many people in general, aside from your… usual group.”

Draco quickly replied.

“You don’t either.”

You smiled,

“What, have you been watching me, Draco?”

Draco raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“It's a good habit to observe those around you, Y/n.”

You laughed lightly.

“Well, then I’ll keep that excuse in mind next time I feel like staring at someone in class for a prolonged period of time.” you paused, noting how Draco’s eyes widened ever so slightly. “Speaking of which, I have a class to get you.”

You said, taking your leave from the corridor. Glancing back as you rounded the corner, you found that Draco was indeed still ‘observing’ you. Your thoughts raced as you jogged to charms class. You just couldn’t wrap your head around why Draco chose such an odd way to start conversation with you for the first time. Then your thoughts wandered to your mother, and guilt stabbed at your gut. To be fair, Draco had talked to you first, and realistically he had pulled you into a corridor without your prior knowledge. So, you hadn’t necessarily gone against her wishes. You had to admit you didn’t mind the short conversation with him, though. Draco seemed interesting.

-----

The next few days were seemingly normal, aside from noticing Draco observing you more and more often. He was bold as well, and didn’t bother to look away most of the times you caught him. He was starting to become a true distraction to you. Of course, you couldn’t deny how attractive you found him.

You were making your way to the great hall for dinner, listening to Danny chatter away about the latest quidditch games and news regarding the Ministry. Almost all of your friends were seated by the time you found your way to the Slytherin table. Confusion and annoyance practically slapped you in the face when you found the spot you always sat in was occupied by a first year.

“Not to be rude, but I’ve sat in this spot since my first year. So, if you wouldn’t mind moving, I would really appreciate it.”

The first year turned to you slowly, and you wholeheartedly expected a sarcastic remark, but instead he said meekly,

“I have to sit here.”

You raised an eyebrow,

“Have to?”

You questioned. The boy nodded fervently, his eyes darting behind you. From the look in his eyes, you didn’t have to turn around to know who stood there.

“Why don’t you sit with me, Y/n? It seems every other spot is taken.”

Your suspicions were confirmed at the sound of Draco Malfoy’s voice. Turning, you stared at him in disbelief.

“Did you harass this poor kid into sitting in my spot, Malfoy?”

Draco glanced to the boy, then back to you, a smirk creeping across his lips.

“What makes you think I would do such a thing?”

He said, eyeing you in amusement. You smirked back to him playfully.

“I suppose I’m not that hungry either way. I think I’ll just make my way back to the common room to study.”

Draco’s grin vanished, his eyes narrowing as you winked at him and stalked away.

Minutes later, you found yourself sitting in the Slytherin common room, staring out the window into the lake. You watched calmly as creatures of all kinds swam past, finding their fluid movements in the water soothing. The Slytherin common room was freezing as per usual, but you neglected to grab a sweater, instead opting to continue to watch the wildlife through the window. Your attention was drawn away from the lake when you heard another person entering the common room.

“You’re not studying at all.”

You turned to Draco as he made his way next to you, then went back to watching the lake. You shrugged, smiling lightly.

“Are you cold?”

He asked, in almost a whisper. You looked back at him slowly, nodding your head in affirmation.

“It’s always cold in here.”

You sighed, once again turning to the lake. Draco didn’t respond, but moments later, a sweater was set down in your lap.

“That should help.”

He said. You looked at him in shock. You would’ve never expected Draco to be the type to lend out his sweater.

As you put the sweater on warmth engulfed you, but that wasn’t your main concern. What threw you for a loop was how the sweater smelled. It smelled of mint, pomade, apples and cologne. Your mind started racing. There was no way you had been smelling Draco’s cologne in the Amortentia potion.

“Sorry, I suppose I’m just not feeling well.”

You whispered. Promptly standing, you walked quickly to your dormitory and sat on your bed. You spent hours convincing yourself that somehow you were wrong about what you had smelled in the Amortentia potion. However, the sweater that engulfed you in warmth and that same scent was telling you otherwise.

---

Just to your luck, in potions the next day, you had the opportunity to test your theory. Slughorn had brought the Amortentia potion back out for whatever reason. You were too anxious to pay attention to his explanation. He gave each student the opportunity to smell the potion if they’d like to test what scents attracted them. When it came to you, the scent had changed, however, not in a way you expected. The smell of Draco’s cologne was overpowering.

You couldn’t tell whether you were delighted or terrified. Just imagining your mother's face if she found out Draco Malfoy was the first boy you ever had a crush on was enough to make you feel overwhelming guilt. However, when you saw Draco making his way toward the potion to smell it, you couldn’t stop yourself from hoping he would smell you too.

Shaking your head in annoyance at yourself, you looked down to the recipe for the potion you were supposed to be making that day. It seemed easy enough, but knowing yourself, you expected it to blow up in your face at any minute throughout the process. You tensed when you saw Draco walk past in your peripheral vision. Hope was still rearing its little head at the thought of what he might’ve smelled in the Amortentia potion, but you couldn’t let yourself be so distracted by him all the time. You would never get anything done.

Much to your surprise and elation, your potion came out perfectly. Slughorn praised you, as it truly was a rarity your potions came out decent, let alone perfectly. You glanced behind yourself, finding Draco staring at you with a look you had never seen him show before. Quickly turning around, your thoughts raced as to what he might’ve been thinking. You weren’t surprised to hear Slughorn praising a perfect potion from Draco moments later.

The minute class was let out, you practically sprinted out of potions. You had to find Danny and tell him everything. You raced to the Slytherin common room, searching for Danny anywhere within it. He clearly wasn’t in his usual spot, so you went to check his dormitory. When he didn’t answer the door, you sighed in annoyance and defeat. You couldn’t bother running around the entirety of Hogwarts looking for him, so you opted to wait for Dinner.

Making your way back to your own dormitory, you sighed once more, wondering how you should even address such a situation. You knew your mother would insist that you just stay a million miles away from the boy and let the feelings fade, but you knew deep down that you couldn’t force yourself to do so. Nevertheless, Draco was in all of your classes, and he was persistent. If he wanted to talk to you, or see you, there was no avoiding him.

----

You skipped the rest of your classes for the day, knowing it wouldn’t affect your scores too badly, and sat in your dormitory waiting for dinner to roll around. Draco’s sweater sat next to you on your bed, and you stared at it for what must’ve been hours. You never in a million years would have imagined that your thoughts and days would be so taken up by Draco Malfoy of all people. The single person your parents adamantly told you to stay away from. The pure irony of the situation would’ve made you laugh if you didn’t feel so guilty and confused.

When dinner finally came, you went to leave your dormitory, only to almost immediately slam the door again. Draco was leaning against the wall outside of your room, clearly waiting for you. Fuck. You were right, after all. If he wanted to see you or talk to you, he made sure there was absolutely no way to avoid him.

After a moment of you dumbly standing there, holding the handle, there was a firm knock at the door. You leaned your forehead against the hardwood, not knowing what would come from you opening the door. Your mind was practically tearing itself to shreds, battling whether you should ignore him and act like none of this happened, or tempt fate and open the door for the platinum haired boy.

“Y/n, you can’t just pretend you’re not in there!”

Draco called through the door. You cringed, still battling yourself on whether you should open the door or not.

“You’re not even supposed to be in the girls dormitories, Draco!”

You called back.

You heard a muffled laugh through the door.

“All the more reason for you to open the door before I get caught.”

You whispered a silent apology to your mother, and opened the door.

Draco’s grey eyes bore into yours, and he didn’t hesitate to walk into your room, closing the door swiftly behind him. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire as he turned to you. With every step he took toward you, you took a step backward. Finally the back of your knees hit the edge of your bed and gave out from under you. You sat, staring at Draco as he made his way closer. His signature smirk made your blush burn even brighter.

Your heart was racing faster than it ever had as he leaned over you, forcing you to lay back slightly.

“Tell me, Y/n. What was it that you smelled in the Amortentia potion?”

You knew you couldn't hide how flustered you were as Draco asked you the one question you had hoped to avoid. You looked anywhere but him, still conflicted with yourself.

You had to hold in a shaky breath when Draco grabbed your chin, purring,

“Look at me.”

You looked at him with wide eyes.

“Now tell me, what did you smell in the potion, Y/n?”

Your voice was barely above a whisper as you responded.

“You.”

Draco smiled fully for the first time as far as you had ever seen. Soon his lips were pressed firmly against yours. He tasted partially of how smelled, like peppermint and green apples. As he pulled away slightly, you let out a shaky sigh, and felt his breath fan across your face.

“Is it too bold of me to assume what you might’ve smelled in the potion, then?”

You asked in a whisper. Draco chuckled, shifting slightly to grab something behind you. His icy eyes analyzed you for a few more moments before he pulled you into a softer, shorter kiss. You leaned forward, bringing one hand to his hair, running your fingers through it. You had wanted to do that for days now. Draco’s lips quirked up, smiling against yours.

When he pulled away, the sight of him nearly made you choke. His hair was ruffled in a way you found so deliciously attractive, and his lips slightly swollen from the kisses you had shared.

“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about, Y/n. I just wanted my sweater back.”

He lied easily. Bringing it to his nose, he inhaled softly, then continued.

“Your perfume is quite potent, though.”

He winked at you, making your heart flutter, then took his exit.

You didn’t care what your parents would think. There was no way you could stay away from Draco Malfoy.

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seancekitsch · 3 years

Text

Powerplay: a Marko x Reader fic

part 3 of 3, previous part here

Warnings: harassment, vamp typical shit, cursing, death/killing, smut mentions, reference to the book

Marko was a good boyfriend, it turned out, except for when he wasn’t. You liked the sweet little kisses, the teasing way he snaps his jaw at you when you catch him staring, the way he holds you while you’re falling asleep even though he doesn’t have to.You like that he listens, more than your friends do. You rang another friend the other day, and were left waiting with the endless ringing again. You want to be upset, but they weren't as close as you were hoping they’d be. Your close friends were back in New York, three thousand miles and a year of working behind you. And they were Marko and his brothers now.

You love the way he keeps you safe, your protector being probably the deadliest thing you could encounter. You love the way he laughs, always joking and jovial. You always thought his smile hid a joke like some mystery, but now you're in on it too, and it's the funniest thing. There is no secret joke, just Marko seeing the world with eyes full of humor. He sees the little things, and now he shows them to you. You love the way you can speak without speaking. Silence followed by heavy laughter, kisses, and understanding.

You even love that week you were on your period and every night he ate you out until you screamed yourself hoarse.

“Marko,” you’d say, “lets ride.”

And he would obey, letting you hop on the back of his bike, always after work, always too fast. You'd like to imagine him crashing as the wind whips your hair, stings your face. What that would be like, huh. It's what you assume he feels like when he flies, free and wild in the night. He caters to your every whim, makes you feel the happiest, as long as the sun has set.

He was less a good boyfriend when he was hungry, brooding and refusing to get close to you. He would be irritable, pick fights, silent treatment. He would purposely leave you in silence, but he wouldn't ask for a taste, despite your offering. He respected you enough not to try that. Other times, he would make sure that you could hear every thought in his head. His thoughts sounded like shouts, always telling you to get the fuck away, always reminding you how vulnerable you were, how easy to kill you’d be. It's almost maddening. You never knew which nights he would be the silent ones, or which ones would be the loud ones.

“Marko,” you’d say, “This is just temporary.”

You don't even have to think the words for him to know what you mean. Or those moments during the day when it's highlighted just how different he was, would always be. He would always be twenty and handsome and having fun, with a guaranteed group of friends. With a family he belonged with. You would always age, you would have to find something else to do eventually, and you would probably have to leave Santa Carla, because he wouldn't. You could always bore him, with Marko one day realizing you can't keep up anymore. You would always be weaker, and no matter how often Marko puts you first, he always holds the power. You’re only the decision maker because he lets you be. He could always take that power back. Find someone new when you get old and he stays the same age. He will always be this way, and you will always change.

It's those nights you think of pulling away from him, and you hope he never hears those thoughts. You love him, but he’ll always say it's not temporary. It's not true.

You love Marko today.

The jingling of the bell snaps you from your thoughts, head rising only to be face to face with one of the surf nazis. Huh, guess the boys didn’t clear all of them out. This one was tall, a skinhead with an upturned pug-like nose, wearing a lot of denim with eyes alight with mayhem in his agenda. Oh, please don’t fucking break anything.

“Hey Baby,” he sneers. God, his voice was even worse than his looks and his smell.

“Not your baby,” you deadpan, wishing desperately for him and his friends to leave without stealing or breaking anything forcing a sickeningly sweet customer service tone, “But what can I help with?”

Maybe good customer service will get them in-and-out quicker.

“That hot little body of yours could help me out,” his tone is outright mocking. God, is this how dudes like these think they can pull? You can’t even hide your grimace as you flinch at the words. If there was anyone else, just one other person working tonight, this wouldn’t be happening. You know this. Working nights alone practically invited this brand of harassment.

fuckfuckfuck. It’s way too early for Marko to be sniffing around, and if you can get them to leave the next four hours of your shift will be miserable. The man laughs, and it makes your blood run cold. He leans over the counter, past the little curtain of incense haze; breaching your only barrier of safety.

“I bet it could. Couldn’t it, baby?”

His large arms press against the glass of the counter and your eyes immediately flicker from them to the back room, where your knife is. He straightens up.

“Cat got your tongue?”

You frown, meeting his eyes now.

“Do you plan on buying anything we sell?” The Bauhaus record you have playing over the speaker skips, and you almost jump. It's just enough to break the tension, the rising bile in your throat clearing.

“I come in here for you, girlie,” and he affirms what you already know. Now that half of the surf nazis were gone, they were struggling to maintain their turf on the boardwalk. So harassment and torture at their hands were on the rise. Many people over the past few weeks had been dodging them in the stores around here, and now apparently they had caught wise to that. Done with it, you take a step back, leaning yourself against the back shelf to retreat further into the curtain of nag champa.

“You can fuck off,” you offer, gaining confidence as you realize the bong behind your head was more than affordable, and if you broke it over his head, you could cover it.

He opens his mouth to respond, but-

The bell on the door jingles again. A familiar smile fades into a scowl. Marko looks like one of those greek heroes tonight, maybe if only because his presence saves you from the gross comments (or anything worse) of the shaved head across the counter. He immediately distracts the surfer from you.

“Why don’t you get outta here, buddy? Me and the lady were just discussing me trying her out later,” the man spits, and you almost gag at the mental image of that.

Marko laughs, that high pitched full body laugh you love so much.

“That’s funny, buddy,” He throws the man’s nickname back at him, “Cause that’s my old lady right there.”

You loved and hated when he called you that. Technically, you are a year older than the year he turned. The first time you all realized that, Paul gave himself a stomach ache laughing over the ‘older woman’ Marko brought home. Tonight though, the nickname brings the biggest smile to your lips.

“Damn right I am,” you chime in, “and you couldn’t take the hint.”

Marko seals the deal by striding over to where you are and pulling you into a kiss over the counter. It doesn't take much more for the surf nazi to leave, the jingling of the door opening announcing his departure.

“I’m gonna make sure we kill the rest of them before the week is out.”

He waits the three hours it takes for you to be able to lock up behind the counter with you, loosely holding your hips and following you around, only moving away from you to pick out new records when one ends.

Come over tonight, Marko thinks, and you know it isn't a suggestion. You kiss him hard on the mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him to press against you. His arms automatically find themselves around your waist, squeezing you as he eagerly returns the kiss. This wouldn’t be your first time at their dilapidated hotel, with sprawling caves and chandeliers and beautiful spray painted murals on the walls. The first time you were there, he brought you there while the others were hunting. He fucked you on any surface not covered with knick knacks they'd collected or takeout containers, leaving you to sheepishly blush while he proudly talked to the others when they returned, deep red hickies and a bite mark on your collarbone you couldn't hide. The next time, the boys and Star and Laddie welcomed you in with booze and a feast and a fun night where you had to crawl out of the cave at dawn looking like a mess. Either way, he waits for you to agree before he leads you to his motorcycle.

“Star, Why don't you just become one of us already?” Paul whined, holding his half eaten eggroll like a cigar, “You're already living with us, Mama. We just want to be friends forever.”

She scrunches her nose, smoothing the long hair of Laddie’s head in her lap. The boy was tired, their unofficial little brother or not, he was still an eight year old.

“Or maybe,” David starts, dropping down from the rim of the check in counter of the hotel, “Star can just have some fun with them and we don’t even have to do what Max wants.”

The boys all laugh, Dwayne’s shoulders turning inward, while Paul smacks Marko in the chest behind you. Whoever Max was, he was someone that could give the boys orders; something you didnt think possible besides their own little group hierarchy. You'd figured out pretty quickly that David was the leader, Marko was his right hand, Dwayne was the left hand; with Marko enforcing, playful and impulsive, and Dwayne being the level head, logical and the one who often kept the boys from fighting and made them all remember why they loved each other so much. Paul was the baby. Both literally and figuratively. He was the messiest, the most likely to slip up;. He was also the one turned last. So when Star decides to be one of them, she’ll be the new baby. Then Laddie.

“No,” Star affirms, “No, I can’t do that to Michael.”

“Michael,” David tests the name on his lips, tongue darting out to lick them after he says it. The curly haired brunette on the boardwalk had a name. Then his eyes flick to you. There's a sharpness to them that feels so different from Marko’s. David is trying to stare through you, not to look inside of your head, to look past it, to see any weakness. A challenge.

“Who’s Max?” you speak up from your spot on Marko’s lap. You can feel him tense under you, but David smiles.

“You don't know about Max? Marko, you didn’t tell her about Max?”

Marko’s hand wraps around your wrist as David continues.

“Max knows all about you, y/n. There’s a reason you're here.”

Here as in, still alive in a vampire den, or here tonight specifically?

Mind thing? You think, and Marko leans his head down against your shoulder as he nods.

“So he knows Marko and I are X-men? Is he Professor X?”

You hear Dwayne and Paul chuckle from the other side of the circle, and Dwayne mutters, “Yeah something like that,” as he swats his hand at Paul’s mesh-covered chest.

“He sired us,” David clarifies.

“You feel it right?” changing the subject, “You feel like you need to be near Marko?”

Marko squeezes your wrist in encouragement, and you nod.

“He’s my boyfriend.”

“That's not what I mean.”

You know what he means. It's the way you feel Marko before you see him, the way you can never sneak up on him.

You nod again.

“That’s what Max wanted to know. Marko, do you wanna tell her, or should I?”

What does he mean? You think and the man below you perks up.

Come with me. His palms grip your hips and gently push you to stand, and he follows suit before taking the lead.

He leads you towards the mouth of the cave, where you enter and away from any listening ears.

“So you know how David is dating Star?” he asks, voice low and close to you in the shadows.

“If that’s what they’re doing,” you joke, and he laughs along with you.

“Well, he thought they had what we have, and that's why she’s with us.” He reaches for your hands to hold them, dropping any playfulness from before.

“I’m supposed to turn you, Max thinks. He’s a lot older than us, and he says some vampires have mates or something similar to that. Others they have some deep mental connection with. The guys… we can hear each other sometimes if we try hard, because we’re a pack. I don't have to try with you and that's why Max thinks it's different.”

Turn you? Like, capital T- Turn you? Into one of them? If he turned you, you’d never see the sun again; never feel its warmth. You’d have to drink blood, and human blood at that. You’d become a killer, and you’d have to keep killing. While you aren’t innocent, killing kind of seems like it would be a stretch for you. Some of their victims had to be innocent, but would your hunger corrupt your morals one day?

It's like he can see the wheels turning in your head, ability to hear your thoughts or not.

“Y/n, you don't have to. Fuck, this was dumb to bring up. David thought you were ready, but if you don't want to I won't make you…” He trails off, visibly a little more deflated.

But if you did, you would be on the same level as Marko. All of the insecurities you have about your relationship would just… stop existing. Your relationship’s expiration date would disappear, your fears about having to leave him or him leaving you would disappear. You'd have people and a place to belong and lover and guaranteed group of friends to be a new family.

“How does it work, Marko?” your voice surprises him, and in honesty, he brought you to the mouth of the cave to give you an out. If you wanted to leave here, leave him specifically, he was going to let you.

“You gotta drink, uh, vampire blood.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

You shrug.

“Are you sure? There's no take backs for this,” Marko’s voice is stern, unlike you ever heard it before.

Deadly sure, Marko.

He smiles, slowly like the moon rising in the night before it crescendos into the wide toothy grin you're so used to seeing.

Marko leads you back into the den of the cave where the others are hanging out.

Dwayne is the first to approach the two of you.

“Everything okay?”

You nod thankfully, offering him a smile.

Paul swoops in next.

“You better be tellin’ me you're joining the fam, chica!”

He tries to drape his arm around your shoulder, but Marko pushes him away playfully, both of the boys smiling.

“Let’s get this girl a drink!” Marko shouts, and the guys start up hollering and laughing.

Marko leads you back to where you had originally been sitting, his designated folding chair. He gestures to you to sit down, while he looks to David for something. Over his shoulder, you can see Star frowning as she watches on.

“Glad you got to talk it out,” David remarks as he hands a bottle of wine to Marko. Maybe you’ll be able to get used to his mannerisms in half a century. Marko hands off the bottle of wine to you, and your hands dip with the weight of it.

The wine bottle is bejeweled, another do it yourself project that the guys seem to love so much. It's heavy in your hands, dark and unseeing down the neck of it, but full. Marko crouches down between your legs, palms flat against your thighs as everyone waits with bated breath. You uncork the bottle, noticing the dark red staining on the cork, and knowing exactly what’s in it now. Two shaky hands bring the bottle to your lips, tilting your head back as you let the contents flow into your mouth, filling it. The ‘wine’ is thick, warm and salty but feels like it's already intoxicating you from just being in your mouth.

“That’s all Marko’s blood, you know,” David remarks, and you swallow deeply. All Marko. He drained his blood for you, weakened himself for you. Your eyes flicker to him, and he smiles up at you from his spot between your legs.

You smile back at him, widely, teeth stained with blood.

#my work #marko lost boys x reader #marko lost boys #marko x reader

113 notes · View notes

babycharmander · 3 years

Note

4, 5, 7, 17, 23!

4: Tell me about one of your abandoned WIPs. Why did you abandon it?

Ohhh... I mean, I don't really have any on AO3 or anything--these days if I'm not sure I'm going to finish a WIP, I don't post it. But like, with the fics I'm probably not going to finish... Gosh, I have several Coco ones? Like, one where Imelda actually gets arrested for harassing the worker early in the movie, and Héctor also gets locked up, and they wind up from cells across from each other. I have most of it written, but while it was an interesting concept I feel like it was just retreading a lot of ground the movie covered later on, and I couldn't figure out how to end it. (I guess I could just end it abruptly with Héctor getting the shimmering attacks and leave the rest up to the viewer's imagination or something, but I dunno if that would be terribly satisfying.)

I also have parts of a Reverse Curse AU where Héctor gets cursed as he makes it into the Land of the Living without using the bridge, and thus becomes a visible skeleton in the real world. It would lead to Miguel finding him and Héctor working with Miguel to see Coco again while trying to avoid getting caught by other living people, except they don't know they're related, and Miguel is trying to avoid home. Again, it seemed like a fun concept, but I wasn't sure how to make it as interesting as the movie, especially since they wouldn't be able to confront Ernesto this way.

I had several others but those were probably the most developed ideas that I actually started getting anywhere with. I also have other unfinished fics, but they're ones I actually plan on getting back to at some point.

5: Share a snippet that you’re proud of from an upcoming fic/chapter.

Oh, okay! Uhh... let's see. This is from a Psychonauts AU I've been working on, where a somewhat younger Ford (in his 30s at the absolute youngest) rescues tiny!Loboto shortly after the surgery. The fic's currently in a messy state right now, and contains a bunch of characters I made up on the spot. For some context of this scene, Ford is in the med ward with an unconscious Loboto, and the original character seen here is an intern that Ford's taken under his wing.

Sighing, Ford took a seat on the cushion Crista had occupied earlier. When Adriana took the seat opposite, he raised a brow. "You lookin' for extra credit?"

"No, I... just..." She shrugged. "...thought you might want company."

Ford smiled. "I appreciate it, but you should really get home now. You've been here late enough as it is."

The intern stared down at the floor for a moment before standing. Instead of leaving immediately, she approached the bed, looking down at the sleeping boy. Gingerly she brushed away a few hairs that were sticking out from under his bandaged head and had been poking around his eyes. He hummed faintly in his sleep.

"...He's just a kid," she whispered, her voice hitching.

Leaning forward, Ford looked up at her. "So you get why I took him here, then," he said, and she looked back at him. "Took him here without waiting to hear what they'd say. You don't always got time to wait for approval when someone's life is at stake. They don't like it, but..." He shook his head. "Not a snowball's chance I'd leave him there, in the hands of those brain-stabbing butchers."

"I understand, sir," Adriana replied, without a hint of hesitation.

I dunno, I wound up liking this bit of interaction here. (Also I've no idea how accurate any of this story is to how any part of how the Psychonauts operate, which is why I've put working on it on hold until I play the new game once it's out.)

7: Were there any ideas you had for [insert fic] that you couldn’t make work? What were they?

Uhh... you didn't give me a fic for this one. \o/;;

17: What has been the proudest moment for you so far since you started writing?

I've been writing for a long time! But uh... man. I still remember being so happy when I finished that last chapter for A Few Repairs. I think that was the first multichapter fic I'd finished that I felt really, deeply satisfied with. I had several other multichapter fics I'd finished before then, and I did like some of them and was proud of them, but I'll always remember that deep feeling of satisfaction I had upon finishing A Few Repairs (even though that wound up not being the very end of that series, haha).

I feel like since then, I've felt a lot happier with the fics I've been writing? Not that I hated writing fics before that point, or that I was never satisfied with my writing, but I feel like from 2012 onward, I really started to write stuff I can still say I'm proud of.

...I think?

Oh gosh, I hope that doesn't mean I haven't improved in a decade or more. Oo;;

23: What’s one piece of advice you would give to anyone who wants to start writing or posting their writing online?

[insert "JUST DO IT" (or whatever that meme is with the dude screaming about making your dreams come true is) gif here]

Okay, like, but seriously, think of something you really really deeply want to write, or to read. Maybe it's something incredibly goofy or wild. Maybe it's a weird crossover you haven't found a single other person mention the possibility of. Maybe it's something personal. Maybe it's a ship no one else likes. Maybe it's a ship EVERYONE likes. Maybe it's a concept you've been waiting for SOMEONE to write, or maybe it's a concept EVERYONE has covered but you can't shake the urge to write it yourself anyway.

If you hear any voices in your head telling you "no, don't write that, it's too self-indulgent!" or "don't write that, it's stupid and no one else will like it" or "don't write that, everyone else has already written it!" then shove ALL of those voices aside and write it anyway.

Of course your fic idea is self-indulgent--THAT'S THE POINT OF FANFICTION. It's to write stuff YOU want to write. If you want to write it, there's probably someone who wants to read it. If it's been written a ton, chances are there's a bunch of people out there who will want to read it again by a different author!

If it's something that you want to write, just write it. Even if you ultimately decide you don't want to post it, that's okay! Time spent writing something you enjoy is never wasted.

Just make sure it's something you want to write, not something you think others will want to read! Always write for you first.

#bc answers nonsense #writing #coco spoilers

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thequeenkrys15 · 4 years

Text

His Woman

This fic is dedicated to Miss Nadia, aka @flamediel

First off, I would like to apologize to you Queen, because this took much longer than I imagined, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

About a month ago, Miss Nadia underwent a lot of unnecessary hate for no reason. Really all hate is unnecessary, but it was hate nonetheless. I would like to remind everyone who reads this fic that it there is never a good reason to be malicious to someone, and that it is always better to spread positivity. In my eyes, we are all kings and queens and should treat each other as such.

Miss Nadia, please know that to me, you are awesome. You are amazing, and marvelous and every positive word in the dictionary in every language. You are a queen, an empress a GODDESS, and if anyone tells you differently they can kick rocks because they’re peasants and queens don’t have time for peasants. And if no one has said it today, I LOVE YOU! And so does this man right here!

Pairing: Zabdiel de Jesus x Nadia!Reader

Word Count: 2950

Warnings: Slight Angst, Smut, 18+, minors DNI, protected sex (no glove, no love), fondling, fingering, oral (female receiving), fluff, and google translated spanish

Without further adeu, Miss Nadia sweetie, enjoy!

Dating a musician was hard for anyone, especially when that musician was in a famous band like Nadia’s man. CNCO was often doing promo and concerts, sometimes it was hard to find time. And it didn’t help that the two of them were in a long-distance relationship. Some of the guys trying to hit on her in Cairo were so rude. And Nadia could only imagine all the women making themselves look “too available” for Zabdiel. But alas, he always made sure to silence her insecurities. “You’re the only one for me, Nadia, mi amol”, he would say in that thick Puerto Rican accent that always made her swoon. They always Facetimed each other every day and flew out to see each other when they could. They say time apart makes the heart grow fonder, then the two of them must be infatuated, because Nadia and Zabdiel were in love.

Time seemed to align perfectly for Zabdiel and Nadia. CNCO got some vacation time to relax, and Nadia saved up enough sick days and vacation days two get a whole two months of paid leave. How would the two choose to spend this newfound time? Why with each other of course! Zabdiel put everything in motion the second he knew she was coming. He wanted this time off to be stress free and be filled with love and romance for his woman, Nadia. The next two months were about to be the best she has ever had.

After getting off the plane in Miami, Nadia was overrun with happiness and joy, and just in a few moments, she would see the love of her life. As she approached Baggage Claim, it’s like the world stopped. Zabdiel had been searching for Nadia for the past 15 minutes, and once his eyes locked with hers, a huge smile spread across his face. It started as a sprint, and then a full-blown dash as they ran to each other. When the two finally had their arms wrapped around each other, a wash of calm and clarity overcame them both. This felt right, this felt like love.

“Hola mi amol, estoy tan feliz de que estés aqui”, he whispered into her ear.

“I missed you so much, baby”, Nadia cried into his shoulder happily.

Zabdiel and Nadia broke apart after a few more minutes, wiping their eyes and walking hand in hand, grabbing her suitcases, and striding out of the airport. The two headed to his car and put the bags in the trunk. Zabdiel opened the door for his woman, and the two of them climbed in and started their ride home.

“Te amo mi cariño”, he kissed her hand.

“And I love you”, she said sweetly.

Nadia knew that these next two months were going to be a blast.

Time Jump

These two months were going nothing like Nadia thought it would. Don’t get her wrong, Zabdiel was treating her like a queen in every sense of the word, from feeding her fruit, to afternoon massages, to late night lovin! When it came to Zabdiel, Nadia was on cloud nine, but it was something else that was bringing her down more than usual: the fans. Now in the beginning, the CNCOwners were ecstatic about the relationship Nadia had blossomed with Zabdiel, and for the most part, they still are. There are positive messages in her inbox from the fans all the time, and they always lift her spirits when she’s down. But lately, somethings been off with them, or at least some of them. It started when Nadia was giving weekly updates to the fans about what Mr. de Jesús was up to. Even though the band was on break, he still did somethings band-related, like producing music. Sometimes when he’s in his element, she likes to get a video of him because she knows the fans would love the content. Or when you catch him doing something cute like playing with Appa, she knew the fans would swoon. Even though most of the fans were showing her love, some were showing her hate. Like HATE, hate. Like hate to the point where they were telling her to kill herself. Like, who does that? At first, she didn’t pay them any mind, because of course there were always the nay-sayers. But the comments started getting worst, like to the point where they were making her cry. She couldn’t believe there were people like this on the internet. She tried to keep this from Zabdiel as long as she could, this time was supposed to be about them, not some asshats that were trying to bring her spirits down. But of course, Zabdiel knew his woman way too well for her to keep a secret like this.

Zabdiel had just got home from a dinner run when he walked in and noticed the apartment was eerily silent.

“¡Nadia, estoy en casa!” he shouted through the home to place her. She didn’t respond.

He placed the food in the refrigerator and went in search of his girlfriend, finally finding her in the bedroom.

“Nena, ¿me has oído? Why didn’t you respond?”

He turned her around in the bed, just to find she was crying her eyes out.

“¿Por que estás llorando? What happened?”

Still trying to save face, Nadia pushed it aside to change the subject.

“Everything’s fine honey. What did you get to eat?” She was totally lying in his face, and Zabdiel was not having it.

Before Zabdiel could ask again what had her in distress, her phone lit up with a notification, and before she could redirect his attention, he snatched her phone away.

“What is this, Nadia?” he tapped on the notification.

“It’s nothing Zab. Please don’t open---”

But it was too late. He had opened it, and what he saw made him bubble with anger. Countless negative comments on her social media degrading her, berating her, calling her names and how she was worthless. One he scrolled past literally told her to kill herself. Are they serious? He could not believe that his so called “fans” were the ones harassing her like this. Oh, he was going to put a stop to this once and for all.

“¿Por cuánto tiempo ha estado sucediendo esto?” he asked in sorrow.

“Zabdiel, please.” She just wanted to forget about it, but he wouldn’t budge.

“How long, Nadia.” His tone was firmer, and because she knew he wasn’t going to leave it alone, she conceded.

“A few weeks.” She sighed. He huffed in frustration but spoke to her in a soft tone.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked in curiosity, not understanding why she would keep something like this from him.

“Because I didn’t want you to worry, okay? This time together was supposed to be about us, not some mean fans. I just shouldn’t have let it get to me so much.”

At the sound of her blaming herself for this nonsense, Zabdiel wrapped Nadia up in the tightest hug he could muster, quieting her claims.

“Escúchame mi amol. None of this your fault, and I am sorry this has happened. Those are not my fans; they are just evil people with nothing better to do. I’m gonna put a stop to this in the morning.”

Nadia tried to protest, but he shushed her concerns, leaving no room for discussion. He kissed her forehead.

“If this happens again nena, you have to tell me so I can fix it. I can’t help if you don’t let me. Okay?” he held her face in his hands as she nodded, showing she understood.

He kissed her lips tenderly, savoring the taste of her. It started off slow, but the kiss grew hungrier, more primal than anything before. His tongue slid into her mouth, dancing around each other, until Nadia’s tongue gave in to his, accepting his dominance.

“I’m gonna make you forget all about them hermosa” he whispered into her ear.

He laid her down on the bed as he began to kiss under her jaw, moving toward her neck and shoulder juncture, suckling her pulse point. She moaned, knowing that tonight was going to be a long one. His hands held her waist, as he slid her shirt up, exposing her stomach. He kissed and nipped along the sides her tummy, forcing her shirt up. He pulled away for a split second, finally pulling her shirt off, getting frustrated with the fabric. He was mesmerized by the way her breasts looked in her black bra; he was practically salivating at the mouth.

“Eres exquisita” he leaned down to kiss her neckline, traveling to her cleavage, nipping at the rise of her left boob, and then the right.

“You have too many clothes on” Nadia said as she slid her hands under his shirt, desperate to feel him as he was feeling her.

He pulled away to get his shirt off, as Nadia threw her bra across the room. Zabdiel was back on her in seconds, sucking her left nipple into his mouth while he fondled the right breast in his huge hand. His warm mouth was doing wonders for her body, and all the pleasure she felt was shot straight to her core. He kissed the valley in between her breasts and down her stomach, knowing exactly where he was headed. Undoing her zipper, he worked her pants off her body and tossed them to the side of the bed, leaving her in her black underwear. He sniffed between her legs, nuzzling her nub which sent a jolt up her spine.

“Hueles dulce” he sighed as he pulled her panties off her body, leaving her bare.

He pulled her legs over his shoulders, gripped her thighs, and licked a long stripe up from her slit to her pearl, making her gasp.

“But you taste even sweeter.” Zabdiel was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

If there was one thing people knew about Zabdiel, it was that he had an oral fixation. He always had something in his mouth, whether it was gum, a lollipop, or in this case, her pussy. And he was an expert with his tongue, knowing just where to lick to get his woman stimulated. He licked in between her lips, just so she could get a feel for him. He then licked at her clit, drawing her favorite star pattern, sending her to another galaxy. Nadia was a moaning mess, her hand flew to where his head was, physically telling him not to move an inch. But Zabdiel wouldn’t dare, he was enjoying this just as much as she was. Knowing that it was him causing his woman so much pleasure, made him painfully hard in his pants. But his woman had to cum first.

“Do you want more, my love?” Nadia was gasping for air, nodding her head frantically, but that wasn’t enough for him.

“Usa tus palabras, hermosa” he breathed into her core as he licked down her slit.

“Yes! Baby please, I need more!” she begged, desperate to chase her high.

Zabdiel inserted his middle finger into her hot channel, and then his index, massaging her inner walls. He found that one spot inside her that made her back arch, hips rising off the bed. This action made Nadia’s eyes roll in the back of her head; she was gripping the sheets for dear life, whining. She was so close, he just needed to say it. And he knew it too.

“It’s okay nena, I got you. Dale” he sucked her pearl into his mouth, hard.

That one word and one action, lit her body on fire. Her orgasm was explosive, mind and body in the clouds, she didn’t think she would ever come down. Zabdiel worked her through her orgasm until she returned to earth, drinking up everything she had to give him. He sat up, and peering at his face he looked like a glazed donut. He hopped off the bed for a split second, getting his pants and boxers off in one push. Nadia would have had to seen it a thousand times, but she will never get tired of seeing just how magnificent Zabdiel’s penis was. She reached out to grasp it, but Zabdiel pushed her hand away, leaning over her.

“No nena, tonight is about you. Relájate” he said as he nestled in between her thighs.

He kissed her first, slow and sensual, pouring out all his emotions in one action. He leaned over to the side to grab a condom out of the night drawer. Once he put the condom on, he lined himself up at her entrance, and ever the gentleman, he peered up at her to make sure she was okay. Holding on to his biceps, she nodded, and he eased the head of his cock into her tight channel, taking the breath out of both of their lungs.

“Carajo nena. Eres tan apretada” he gasped into her ear.

Once fully seated, he took a minute to let her adjust. No matter how many times they’ve had sex together, his girth always took her by surprise. Zabdiel could feel Nadia hips moving slightly against his, signaling him to move. He drew back his hips all the way, leaving only the tip in to tease her, then he slammed himself back in, to the hilt. His thrusts were slow, making love to her through his actions.

“Eres perfecta” he whispered into her ear as he kissed her neck.

She felt euphoric in every sense of the word; not only was he making her feel good physically, he was also making her feel good emotionally. Every stroke he took pulled all the negative comments out of her mind and replaced them with deep and utter bliss. She was on cloud nine, but she needed to get to the moon. She wanted to forget, and Zabdiel was the only way how.

“Faster, Papi” she pleaded, begging him to take her pain away.

It was like a switch flipped inside his head. Nadia knew if she wanted a different side of Zabdiel, a more aggressive side, that was the one word that would do the trick. “Domdiel” appeared in a matter of seconds, gripping her hips harder, and his strokes started matching the speed of a jackhammer. Nadia felt him everywhere, from her neck down to her core. She knew there would be bruises in the morning, but she didn’t care, all that mattered was this moment right now.

“Papi, I’m close!” She held on to him for dear life, nails running down his back so hard they almost broke skin.

Zabdiel was in the same boat, as his thrusts were starting to lose their rhythm. He reached down between her legs, drawing a nice figure eight on her bundle of nerves, sure that it will help her reach a final high.

“Cum for me, Nadia.”

That was all it took. Her body arched and convulsed off the bed. She screamed out in pleasure as her orgasm washed over her. A white-hot light flooded the back of her eyes, leaving her in a state of pure ecstasy. Zabdiel wasn’t far behind, getting three more pumps in before he stilled, spilling himself into the rubber. He collapsed onto her, but she didn’t mind, welcoming the warmth. After a few seconds Zabdiel got up and retreated to the bathroom to throw away the rubber. He returned to Nadia with a washcloth in hand, leaning down to clean her up, being mindful that she was still very sensitive. When he was finished, he tossed the rag into the laundry hamper, and crawled into bed, snuggling up to his woman.

“Te amo, mi vida” he whispered as he drifted off to slumber.

“Te amo, mi cariño” she said back as sleep overcame her.

In that moment, Nadia felt at peace. Not anger, not sadness, just simple peace.

Time Jump

When morning came, Nadia found herself in bed, alone. Finding Zabdiel’s discarded shirt, she slipped it on and made her way to the living room, in search of her boyfriend. The sight that she came across almost made her cry. Zabdiel was on the couch with his phone in hand, going completely off on the fans that were spewing hate towards her. He said that he was disappointed and angry that some of his so-called “fans” would go so far as to hurt his woman intentionally. He also said that true fans would want to see him happy, and that if they were real fans, they would either show you two some love, or just simply be quiet. He saw Nadia out of the corner of his eye and decided to end the video there.

“Ahora si me disculpas, voy a salir con mi mujer.”

He motioned for her to come sit with him, so she did. He placed her on his lap and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know. I could have gotten over it.” She said as she leaned against his chest.

“You shouldn’t have to. Tú eres mi mujer, and I’m not gonna tolerate any disrespect, no matter who it’s from.” He kissed her on her forehead.

The two stayed like that for a moment, just basking in the peaceful silence, until Nadia spoke up.

“So the day has just started, what do you want to do?” She looked into his eyes.

“How about my woman decides for today?” He gave his signature dimple-filled smile.

“Your woman? I like the sound of that!” She cheesed as they hugged each other tightly.

Yeah, their relationship was hard sometimes, but being his woman, makes it all worthwhile.

#cnco #zabdiel de jesus #flamediel #loveoneanother

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nooneelsecomesclose17 · 3 years

Text

I’ll leave what I’m chasing - part 6

This is the part that kind of started the whole fic. I wanted a fic where Sarah went up against Chas. It’s kind of got out of hand, but here it is. I’m the most nervous about this part!

(AO3 link)

“I’ve been thinking.” Sarah announces after their food has arrived.

“Always a worry.” Robert snorts back a laugh at Aaron’s reply, his husband innocently eating his meal as if he hadn’t spoken.

When they’d arrived the pub had fallen into silence and he still felt uncomfortable, as if everyone was watching, judging. Aaron’s hand had been firmly in his until their food had arrived and that had helped, but now he can’t help notice Chas’s glare in his direction from where she’s standing talking to Sam and Lydia. Sam, bless him, had raised the glass he was holding in his direction when they’d walked in but Chas had said something so he’d put his head down and that was it.

A few people had come over to the table and said hello, some he knew, some he didn’t, but he’d plastered on his fake smile and made polite conversation, mind whirling with thoughts of what they thought of him. He wished he didn’t care so much, wished he could ignore the looks, the whispering. Chas had let Bob serve Aaron and he’d seen the look he’d given his Mum, a mix of disappointment mixed with indifference and he’d just felt bad about the whole thing all over again. If it weren’t for Aaron he would’ve left by now.

“Rob, you listening?”

“What? Sorry.”

“I was just saying, your sister is back next week, so I was thinking, how about having Ana christened?”

“Why?” He’s trying not to think about seeing Vic again, they’d not exactly parted on the best terms and he couldn’t help but feel this trip back to their Gran’s villa in Spain for a couple of months had been timed just so she could avoid him despite his Mum’s assurances that it wasn’t

“Because it’s nice, and it’d show everyone that you’re a family.”

“What happened to not caring what everyone thinks?”

“Nothing wrong with showing them you’re settled though is there. Besides, like I said it’ll be nice to have a family occasion, and don’t tell me you won’t like the chance to show her off. You could always have Seb christened too if you wanted as Rebecca never got round to it.”

“Do you get a deal, two for the price of one?”

“Charles might actually offer that.” He looks across at Aaron, who surprisingly looks interested in the whole idea.

“Who’s Charles?”

“The new vicar.”

“New vicar? What happened to Harriet?” He hates this, hates that he doesn’t know the people in the village any more, that’s he’s totally disconnected from everything that’s been happening.

“It’s a long story. Charles is ok though, he and his son lived next door for a couple of months until they found a house in the village. You’ll like them.”

“So, the christening? Shall I talk to him about dates? The weather’s nice, we can have people back to the house after.”

“What’s this?” Robert’s annoyed that he jumps at the sound of Chas’s voice as she appears at the table. She makes a show of clearing their glasses but he’s not convinced, he’s sure she’s just being nosy. He sees Aaron look at Sarah, and he’s willing her not to answer. He knows her better though, there’s a glint in her eye.

“We’re talking about a christening for Ana and Seb.” She tells her and turns right back to them, effectively dismissing Chas and a part of him wants to laugh.

“Nice. Where are they then?”

“With their Grandma. Less likely to hear things they shouldn’t with her.” He can’t help himself, hopes Aaron doesn’t mind, the hand on his knee says he doesn’t.

“Are you going to let him speak to me like that?” He catches his Mum’s look, telling him to leave it to Aaron.

“He’s not saying anything that isn’t true, Mum. What do you think it would’ve done to Seb to hear those things you were saying? It was bad enough that I heard them.”

“I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true and you know it. Maybe I’m not the one that needs keeping away from them.” He’s not quick enough to stop Aaron jumping to his feet.

“Don’t! Those children are loved and safe and that’s all any kid needs.”

“With him as a father?”

“That’s enough.” Aaron’s voice is quiet, almost a whisper. “I told you I won’t have you talking like that. Come on Robert, let’s go home. Sarah, I’m sorry, I know you wanted to try and have a nice dinner but I’m not staying here and listening to this.”

“Of course not love. You go on ahead, I’ll collect the children from Diane and bring them home.”

Robert follows him, almost in a dream, still a little stunned. It’s not like Aaron hasn’t stood up for him before but even so it’s still a surprise to him when it happens.

“Aaron, wait!” Chas’s shrill shout makes him wince and he waits for Aaron to go back like he would have done once upon a time, but he doesn’t, he holds onto his hand a little tighter if anything.

“Ignore her. We’ll get the kids and when they’re sleeping we’ll curl up in front of a film.”

They’re halfway home when he realises he’s left his jacket, assures Aaron he can fetch it himself and tells him to pick the film while he waits. The pub is quieter when he gets inside and as he pushes the door open he can hear why.

“...does whatever he wants. He can’t go around hitting people with shovels and expect to get away with it. I’m just looking out for the children.”

“No you’re not. You’re just holding a grudge you’ve had for years. You never wanted Aaron with Robert, and ok maybe he made mistakes in the past, but not this. They should’ve given him a medal for it, not locked him up.” It makes him feel warm inside hearing his Mum defend him. She always has, but for so long no one else did and now he knows he has Aaron who will always be there.

“He hurt someone!” He winces at how high her voice gets. He should leave, go home to Aaron, but something stops him, something makes him want to hear what she says.

“A rapist who had harassed my daughter for weeks, who taunted Robert to the point of breaking. I’m just sorry I wasn’t holding the shovel myself.” He almost laughs because he knows if she’d been in the village she would’ve done the same as him. It had only been Vic and him assuring her she should stay where she was that stopped her coming back.

“You can’t just take the law into your own hands.”

“Well that’s rich coming from a Dingle! Do I need to point out to you that you sent your brother round to deal with your ex? That you graffitied his car? I always knew you were a hypocrite Chas Dingle, but I never realised quite how much of one you are.”

“You don’t know anything about any of that. You weren’t even here back then!”

“No, I wasn’t, but I still have friends here. It’s really no skin off my nose what you do, but if you don’t want to lose your son and your grandchildren then you’d better do something about your behaviour towards Robert because Aaron’s not going to change his mind”

“Not with you and your son poisoning Aaron against me.”

“Oh Chas, he doesn’t need us to do that, you do a pretty good job yourself. If anything Robert wants you both to make up. This is all Aaron, because despite what you and Paddy think he’s an adult and fully capable of making his own decisions and has been for a very long time.”

“How dare you! You’ve only been here a few months and you think you can come in here and lecture me.”

“Oh I dare. I dare because I’ve talked to him, because unlike you, I’ve been there for him when Ana wouldn’t sleep, when Seb played up because he didn’t understand where his Daddy was, when he just wanted his husband. Where were you?”

“Where was Robert more like. Aaron wouldn’t have been in that state if he’d not cut him off. Left him alone to deal with a newborn baby and his son. In my book you don’t do that to the people you love.”

“Well, I guess you’d know more about that than me. At least when I left my husband my kids knew where I was.”

“Mum.” He’s quiet, but she hears him because the pub is quiet, too interested in the show that’s playing out in front of them. He has to stop them before it turns into something more ugly that they can’t come back from. Not because of him, he can’t handle it. The rest of the customers are agog at them and he’s surprised no one is trying to defend Chas. There’s a couple more Dingles in, but even they’re keeping out of it which surprises him. “Let’s go.”

“I’m sorry love, but it needed saying.” She leaves Chas standing there, fury all over her face and joins him at the door. “Am I in trouble?

He wants to hug her if he’s honest with himself but he doesn’t, just wants to get out of the place. When they’re out on the street he does, holding on that little bit longer. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t say anything that isn’t true.”

“Did leave him though, didn’t I? She was right about that. I left him, and I left Seb.”

“She’s got no room to be lecturing anyone on leaving a child. Or anything else for that matter.”

“How much did I miss out on?” He links his arm in hers as they make their way to pick up the children.

“Oh not much.”

“Oh great. You really went to town didn’t you?”

“I gave as good as I got, yes. Robert, I’m not going to stand by and let her say those things. I’ve not been here all the time I should have been, I’ve a lot to make up for.”

“And you’re doing that by going toe to toe with Chas Dingle? You know, you really don’t have anything to make up for Mum.” He pecks her cheek. “Thank you anyway.”

#robron fic #look away if you love chas #i promise there'll be some actual aaron and robert stuff soon #but sarah has all this stuff to say and she won't be quiet

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deaddovecoterie · 4 years

Text

butterflies

marinette dupain cheng x adrien agreste || ladybug x chat noir

fandom: miraculous ladybug

rating: T (maybe R to be safe for next chp? ahaha jk jk,,, unless?,,,)

word count: 1.8k

genre: angst. just pure angst. maybe fluff if you squint real hard

warning(s): swearing, vaguely unedited, blood mention

a/n: heyyyy :DD im back on my writing bullshit with my favourite personnnn (guess who) @whoseblogsthis cause me and this talented mf co-wrote this :’) ky i just wanna know what it feels like to carry every ff we write together on your back because of my linguistic incompetence. anyway this is my first mlb fic so i hope yall like it i guess !!

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“...Bystanders have not been hurt, although Paris’ superheroes have not made an appearance yet…”

There was unrest among the students of Francoise Dupont High School as Adrien listened to his friends talk quietly amongst one another. Thunder rumbled in the distance as heavy, chilling rain poured down from the skies. There was a gloomy eeriness that clung to the air, a quiet that made the high schoolers feel like they were just waiting for something to shatter the silence. Grey clouds were collecting, casting the city in shadow-like darkness.

Another Akuma attack had been reported yet again. The Parisian superheroes were more than glad to help out, but it was obvious they were tiring: their moves became sloppier, their conversations shorter, and their patience thinner.

Adrien listened to the chatter exchanged between Alya and Nino, while Marinette remained quiet. She looked tired, which really wasn’t that uncommon, but her fatigue seemed to spill into all of her activities. She had less “pep in her step,” as Alya had said, and her eyes weren’t nearly as bright as they used to be. Not that he meant to pay attention to such things, of course, but it was hard to not notice. Even Chloe, who couldn’t give a rat’s ass about anyone but herself, had laid off on the harassment. Adrien chalked up his attentiveness to Marinette as nothing more than being a good, concerned friend, but as of late that excuse was becoming harder to sell, even to himself.

It started about four months ago when they came back from summer break. Everyone had gone back to school and while Adrien was physically there, he was mentally absent. Kagami had just gone abroad for school again after they’d broken things off. He would have liked to say it was a mutual breakup, but she was the one who brought it up. Kagami was wise beyond her years so when she told him that his heart wasn’t in the relationship, he knew she was right. He expected his first heartbreak to be gut-wrenching, but it wasn’t. He felt sad, sure, but not in the way that leaves you paralyzed in bed for weeks on end. At the time, he wondered why that was, but the answer was obvious: Marinette.

When he got to school, it was almost as if she could see the gloomy cloud over his head. She was there for him when no one else seemed to notice, her stuttering and fumbling hardly present in their conversation. In the beginning, he felt almost guilty for confiding in her. It would’ve been ignorant of him to believe she didn’t have problems of her own (who didn’t?), but it was a fact known by many that Marinette Dupain-Chang was one to do whatever she could to help the people she cared for.

It was then that he noticed it: the butterflies. It was like a tsunami of anxiety, excitement, and shyness all rolled into one whenever she did anything: the way her hair moved in the breeze, her clear laugh that dared him to smile, but most of all, her kindness. Marinette was one of those people that you couldn’t hate. She was that person who helped others even when no one was looking. He didn’t want to, but he couldn’t help himself when he started falling for her every move.

She didn’t know, probably never would, but she had him whipped.

The blonde was snapped back into reality when his best friend nudged him: “You coming?” Nino’s brow arched in question.

He looked across the street, where his bodyguard was waiting for him, standing by the driver’s side door of the sleek black Audi. Though it’s been the same car since Adrien was like thirteen, it still looked brand new.

“I forgot my homework,” he said to Nino, calling out to his bodyguard to repeat the same thing. With a barely discernible nod of approval from the bodyguard, Adrien turned back toward the school doors.

Adrien grumbled as he jogged away from his friend group: “Well, Nadia, Paris’ superheroes happen to have vaguely normal lives too if you weren’t aware.”

Plagg floated up from Adrien’s pant pocket and did circles around his owner’s head. “You put too much faith in humans, they don’t think about that kinda stuff. To them, you and Ladybug are untouchable.”

“Yeah, well we’re not,” he mumbled frustratedly. He pressed his palms into his eyes tiredly and took a deep breath before dropping his arms back down to his sides.

“Plagg claws out,” he muttered.

Plagg liked to think he knew his miraculous holder quite well. Despite the kwami’s demeanour and seeming distaste toward anything non-cheese related, he did have feelings. Yes, he loved cheese, but he also loved Adrien. He had spent the last two years with Adrien, and he knew something was terribly wrong with his owner.

He’d ask later. The cat-like kwami entered the ring miraculous, and with that, Adrien Agreste was gone, replaced by Chat Noir.

The leather-clad hero headed toward the disaster zone, the rain not doing anything to help his vision. He landed on a rooftop near the Akuma attack and swiftly surveyed the scene. Upon not seeing Ladybug anywhere, Chat Noir sent a quick message to Ladybug, highlighting the damage, before swooping in to hold off the Akuma.

xXx

To put it simply, Marinette was struggling. It had been the fifth Akuma attack that week and after two years of being Ladybug, her excuses were becoming weaker and weaker as time went on. Adrien’s abrupt exit was odd, but she didn’t have time to think about it as she felt the ground shake slightly. It didn’t matter how exhausted she was, she couldn’t put off her duties any longer.

“I uhm, I forgot I had a question for Miss Bustier. I’m going to go see if she’s still around and I’ll uh just stay here until Ladybug and Chat Noir get everything taken care of!” she flashed her friends a thumbs up and with that, she ran back inside the school, toward the locker room. She opened her tiny purse in order for Tikki to emerge. “This is bullshit,” she muttered to herself.

Tikki gasped in shock. “Marinette!”

“Sorry,” she mumbled half-heartedly, “You wouldn’t happen to care if I maybe just happened to not show up and let Chat handle it?”

The glare that the small kwami sent her way told her otherwise. “Something about this one tells me that you’ll need all the help you can get,” she told her owner.

Her stomach twisted with anxiety, both confusion and shock washing over her face. Tikki had never talked about the dangers of an Akuma before, which alarmed Marinette. Shit.

“Tikki, spots on.”

Ladybug swung with all her might as her trusty yoyo grabbed onto buildings and chimneys, the sounds of destruction nearing. A black blur, undoubtedly Chat, streaked the cloudy, grey sky as an akumatized villain screeched out. Her eyes skimmed over the cobblestone streets in front of her, but nothing could prepare her for the screams of terror and bloodied civilians that scattered the scene below.

Her feet had only touched down on the ground for a second when she heard him.

“Nice of you to drop in,” Chat purred, startling her. “You’re late,” he added, his voice icier than expected.

“Cry about it,” Ladybug responded coldly.

“Meowch m’lady,” he said in mock hurt.

“Sorry,” she muttered to her partner as she took him in. His blonde silky hair was plastered to his head from the pouring rain, the droplets permeating the black leather. If the suit wasn’t skin-tight before, it certainly was now. She had to tear her eyes away from the sight of him, her sensibility screaming at her to focus while her eyes wanted nothing more than to drink in every inch of him.

Literally what the fuck, she said to herself. Now was no time to pine for her partner.

The Akuma that stood before her was physically underwhelming in stature, but her clothing made up for it. The girl in front of them held herself at around 5’3 and couldn’t be more than 18, but her wicked smirk sent a chill through her spine. The girl was clad in an array of green from forest, sage, to mossy shades, the dress that adorned her body looking like that straight from greek mythology. It was made up of grand silks, almost entrancing Ladybug and Chat with the way that the fabric moved like rippling water. It was ethereal, really, but the closer she looked at it the deadlier it became.

From around the waist and shoulders, long strips of silk floated behind her like the snakes on the head of Medusa. They almost seemed to bend to her will, the fabric defying gravity. Not only were pieces of the dress floating, but so was her long dark hair. In her hand was a staff made from tree trunk like material. Resting atop her head was an obsidian black crown with spikes the length of Ladybug’s hand.

After looking around at the already distraught state of the street, their evaluation was over: she was not going to be another walk in the park.

“Shit,” Chat breathed out. It was at that moment that the villain opened her mouth to address both the heroes and bystanders.

“Citizens of Paris, I am Gi Mágissa. I am not here to compromise with your heroes. Others in the past have failed to retrieve what Hawk Moth desires, but I will not: today will be the day that you remember as the fall of Ladybug and Chat Noir.” Her voice resonated as if it was echoing off the walls. She shifted her gaze to the left, her eyes locking with the two of them.

“Give me your miraculous and I may decide to spare you and your city,” she said in a dangerously low voice. Her voice was smooth, yet it cut right through the two partners like a freezing wind in the dead of winter. Under any other circumstances, her words would be humorous, cheesy even, but this was not like anything else they faced.

Chat laughed as his trademarked smirk appeared. “Funny, because I don’t remember agreeing to that,” he said in mock thoughtfulness, almost like he was trying to recall a memory.

“Chat,” Ladybug hissed, “I’m starting to get the feeling that you won’t be able to joke your way out of this one,”

“C’mon m’lady, live a little.”

“Yeah, well I might not be alive to do so if you keep being an idiot.” Ladybug could feel the frustration rising in her as Chat continued to appear so casual and relaxed. How could he not sense that this was so much worse than before?

Chat turned to her and she could finally see his eyes. Despite his outward appearance, she saw the nervousness in his gaze. There was almost a buzz in the air, a metallic smell that made them wrinkle their noses: blood, iron maybe.

“Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

#haley writes #fanfiction #mlb #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fandom #adrein agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ladynoir #adrienette #adrien x marinette #ladybug x chat noir #chat noir #cat noir #mlb fanfic #mlb fanfiction #angst #fluff #fanfic #ky tag

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makeste · 4 years

Note

I was originally going to send this message declaring my undying love for your metas and chapter reviews aND THEN - AND THEN MAKESTE - I READ THE ANSWER WHERE YOU SAID YOU WERE ARO AND THAT MAKES ME SOOOOO HAPPY. I'm aroace and it is SO FRUSTRATING to want to consume platonic or familial interaction between people and CONSTANTLY only get romantic or sexual. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR EVERYTHING YOU CONTRIBUTE

woooo up top! solidarity lol.

for me it’s like... I don’t know if “frustrating” is the word I would use, but I do wish there was more gen out there. and that’s also something I’ve felt awkward about wanting in the past, because my early fandom years took place in a time where slash was much less of an everyday commonplace thing than it is now, and liking it was still a fairly controversial thing. the internet was a much more openly homophobic place than it is now. like, picture the purity police of modern day tumblr, but if they attacked any kind of non-heterosexual relationship as being sick and perverted and wrong. that was pretty much the general vibe. this was before AO3, and people who wrote slash often didn’t post it on ff.net and only posted it to their own private blogs and/or locked and moderated communities instead just so they wouldn’t be harassed. and there was absolutely no canon representation out there at all, or next to none. it was very much a “[rolls eyes] oh the yaoi fangirls are at it again” sort of thing where non-cishet relationships in fiction and fanfiction were at best not taken seriously at all, and at worst were treated with outright scorn and disgust.

and so like, with this being a common attitude at the time, I felt guilty for not always wanting to read slash myself. like, I don’t mind reading about romantic relationships at all, but for me there also has to be some other kind of element in play as well, or else it’s just not going to click for me. if a fic is just romance, just a lot of pining and slow burn stuff without anything else really going on in the plot, I just get bored and disinterested. I almost want to use the word tired, even though I’m not sure that makes much sense. I just can’t connect to the emotions, and so I disengage pretty quickly. and so I tend to steer clear of time-honored fandom staples like coffee shop AUs or And They Were Roommates, just because for me there’s rarely anything there for me to latch onto. I like angst, but I can’t relate to “so and so doesn’t feel the same way about me”, or “I want to be with them so bad but I don’t know how to confess”, or “they’re with someone else and it hurts like crazy every time I see them and know we can’t be together”, because none of those are emotions that I have ever personally felt, and I just can’t make myself feel them. what I can relate to are things like “this person makes me feel safe”, or “I feel a strong connection to this person”, or “I trust this person more than anyone else” because those feelings aren’t exclusively romantic in nature. I can relate to closeness and caring and love and affection and trust, but what I can’t relate to is the feeling of having a single person occupy all of your thoughts all the time, and very badly wanting to be the most important thing in their life as well, and feeling incomplete otherwise.

but anyway I spiraled away from the point I was trying to get to, which is that for a long time I actually felt guilty about feeling this way. because even though it’s rare to find fanworks where gen/platonic relationships are at the center, actual canon is chock full of said relationships. and so it’s like, what right do I even have to complain when I get to read all the time about so and so being friends, but the people who actually want them to be in a relationship in the actual canon so rarely get to see that actually happen. because that much has not changed in the past 20 years, even though society has become far more accepting of LGBTQ+ relationships. most canons are still far more likely to tease a non-hetero ship -- on purpose, even, hence why queerbaiting is a thing -- than actually commit to it. and so I often feel like I have no right to voice my desire for more genfic, because genfic has never faced the same kind of scrutiny as slashfic. gen has always been acceptable, and there is plenty of canon representation of platonic and non-romantic relationships, and so it’s not something I have any business whining about.

and even now I feel fairly uncomfortable voicing this lol. I write almost exclusively genfic myself, and up until very recently, I’ve always defined gen in my head as being just a lack of romantic or sexual content, rather than being its own distinct category. I think that’s one of the reasons it took me so long to realize I was aro (that, and I’d honestly never even come across the term until just a few years ago). for me, my lack of interest in romantic affection always felt more like a lack of identity rather than an identity in and of itself. I always felt like I was missing something. and for a very long time it never occurred to me that this might be a permanent thing; I just figured, okay, I just haven’t had this feeling yet. it just hasn’t happened for me yet. but eventually it would, and I just hadn’t met the right person, or whatever. but it was never anything I particularly wanted, and I never felt like I was missing out on anything by not having it. I never felt any kind of longing for it or felt incomplete without it. I was actually perfectly content!

but because society treats romantic orientation as the norm and places such a huge emphasis on it, I still had the uncomfortable feeling in the back of my head that if I never fell in love with someone and never wound up having a relationship with someone, my life would somehow be less meaningful and whole. like, we’re raised to think that romantic love is basically the pinnacle of the human experience, the purest and truest emotion that anyone can feel. and at the same time, there’s this idea that a life without that kind of love is just sad and unfulfilling and tragic. and so for a very long time my experience with my own aromanticism was characterized by me thinking of it as a lack of something that everyone else said was very important. and it took a long time to realize that that wasn’t the case, and that it was a valid orientation all its own and not just a matter of me being deficient in some way. and that was actually such a relief to finally come to terms with. I can be whole and complete on my own and still have a rich and fulfilling human experience even if I never experience romantic love, and that’s fine. I’m not missing anything. I’m not wrong for feeling like I’m not missing anything. it’s fine to be content with just me as I am. like, holy shit. and that was such a weight off my shoulders to finally get that.

I once wrote a fic which I was and still am very proud of. it was a genfic, and it had a really intricate plot with a big twist at the very end. and there was a ton of emotion in it, and it got very intense at times, because these were two characters who cared a lot about each other and would literally die for each other if they had to, and I’d put them in a situation where that possibility was very much looming over their heads at every turn. and I really put everything I had into trying to convey that kind of bond as strongly as possible. like I poured a ton of my heart and soul into that fic. and the responses were almost universally positive and kind and made me really happy.

there was one response though, that still sticks with me to this day. it was by and large very positive, just like the others. but it ended with a single sentence that, at the time, kind of just lowkey gutted me. Not gonna lie though, would have loved some slash in there.

like, that just cut me. way more than this person actually intended, I think. I’m pretty sure they just meant it as an offhanded comment, not even a concrit or anything. just “haha would have loved it if they’d kissed though lol.” but it stung. because this was something I’d put every ounce of emotion that I could conjure up into. and even though it wasn’t mean to be hurtful in any way, to me that comment read as “this is still missing something.” because there was no romance, the fic was incomplete. the characters’ feelings were incomplete. even though I’d struggled so much to convey all of these complex emotions which to me were so real and powerful, and even though the comment even acknowledged that I had by and large done so effectively, to me the single takeaway that stuck was that the feelings were less meaningful because there was no romance.

and that felt like a failing on my part. I even apologized for it. and here we are, ten years later, and that comment still pops up in my head any time I feel the urge to talk about a popular ship which I support but which I also enjoy as just a friendship. “just” a friendship. I still feel guilt over that. I still feel this urge to overexplain that I’m not trying to invalidate the actual romantic ship. I worry that I’d be perceived as ungrateful and/or a bad ally if I ever just came out and said “I wish there was more gen” like you were able to say so freely, anon. I worry about people getting offended if I were to say “I headcanon so and so as being aroace” because it might be viewed as an attack on their ships, or as latent homophobia, or something. like I have this paranoid fear that people might take it as me being puritanical and all “oh no, icky sex” or whatever, and so I end up just never bringing it up at all.

and that’s the thing about aromanticism, though; it’s so easy to just never talk about it at all, because for so many people it is just defined as a lack of something, rather than a something all on its own. it’s so easy for it to be something you just never bring up, and which just kind of quietly exists as the boring, bland, inoffensive yet uninteresting lack of a relationship; the default blank slate that most everyone is dying to fill in as soon as possible, except for you. and I’ve gone on thinking about it that way myself for so long that I’m still struggling now to sort out how to embrace it as an actual identity. it’s something I still have a lot of work to do on I guess.

anyway! so that all got very long and rambling and personal, far more so than I intended; clearly I have a lot of pent up thoughts and feelings about this lol. I guess I probably could stand to talk about it more, since the evidence would indicate that I clearly want to. but eh, baby steps. but anyways you are super valid anon and thank you so much for the love and comments. <3

#aromanticism #meta #aromanticism in fandom #personal #long post #ask #anon ask #hey um just an addendum this is a pro aroace post NOT an anti-shipping post #just to make that clear #like you can be for one thing without bashing the other #so if you want to reblog this that is awesome and I'm grateful #but please don't use it as a launching pad for any weird toxic 'shipping is bad' takes please and thanks

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that-good-trash · 4 years

Text

Burn Away With Me 3

Shoto Todoroki x reader / Dabi x reader

Warnings: Mentions of death and blood, profanity, kidnap, murder, Angst

Word count: 10K

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: Kidnap and murder usually go hand in hand but not like this. The world thinks your dead and you have to watch them mourn you like a princess locked away in a tower. Except princes don’t look for dead girls. You might just have to rely on the villain who took you.

Comment: Holy Shit, I am so sorry this took so long and that I haven’t been posting anything new. School just started again and I am a full time student and employee. I have a few other fics in progress and there will be a part four to this fic, which will be the conclusion. Thank you all for sticking around still and just bear with me. This chapter is long and I hope there aren’t to many errors with grammar or spelling. I hope you enjoy and please look forward to my next fics which I hope to post this week.

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Endeavor was a clever man with years of getting what he wanted tucked under his belt. He wasn’t intimidated by his son. He thought of his son as a tool not a human being with feelings and emotions that mattered. He had tried to be that guy and failed. His wife wanted nothing to do with him and neither did his oldest son. He showed them that he could change and yet they didn’t forgive him so what was the point of changing. He reverted back to the piece of shit he was so good at being. If he couldn’t be Number 1 and a ‘good’ dad then fine. A hero it is, despite the fact that he wasn’t a good hero either. Just a narcissistic asshole who beats people down with no remorse and would do anything to get what he wanted. Even kill you, even kill his own son. You and Dabi had ‘murdered by Endeavor’ on your personal resumes.

Now Shoto was standing his ground against the man who continues to take the things he loves. His flames dance around his body waiting to be released like hell hounds against his father. The ice cracks when Endeavor lifts his foot. He seems amused, like this is all a game. He wants Shoto to fall apart because it’s easier to control him when he isn’t all there. Shoto won’t let that happen, not when he needed to get revenge, if not for you then himself.

“TALK YOU BASTARD!” Shoto Todoroki was anything but a loud man. He wasn’t overly confrontational so this was a big change in his personality. Endeavor quirked a brow before his booming laugh pushed against the walls of his office. He steps forward knowing that his son will respond defensively. Ice shards jut forward almost striking the flame bearded man. He laughs before grabbing the overgrown frozen stalagmites melting them in seconds. His ice was strong but fire was still fire and couldn’t be overcome by a chill. His own fire pushed against Shoto’s as he approached. Shoto stood his ground, his hair had risen slightly dancing with his flames that were now reflecting in his eyes. His father glowers down at him neither of them willing to end this in a civil manner.

“I didn’t kill her but I am glad she is gone. You will mourn and hurt for now but in time she will be nothing but a painful memory. You can’t waste your time chasing rumors, trying to kill me. If you believe ever rumor out there then you would have to believe that you killed her or that she is actually alive. See how foolish those ideas are. You are just ruining your youth and if you kill me then you will spend the rest of your life behind bars. Would it be worth it Shoto?” He knows what to say to hurt his son. How could he forget about you? He couldn’t forget even if you wanted too. You were the better half of his life. You weren’t sunshine on a stormy day; no, you took him out in the rain and made him dance with you in it. He learned to love and be loved when you came into his life. Walking away now, giving up, was not a choice. He didn’t care about prison bars or the death sentence.

“Killing you, regardless of circumstance, would be worth everything.” The flames burned against each other as Shoto lifted his hand toward his fathers’ face. The flames disappeared at the sound of knocking on the door. Both men, despite having stopped their quirks, still looked at each other with intention to kill. “Come it.”

Midoriya opened the office door flinching slightly due to how hot the knob was. He walked into the room feeling the drastic change in temperature. The hallway was cool but the closer he got to Endeavors office the warmer it was. This however was extreme; he could feel the air stick to him from the increased humidity. He gripped his shirt pulling it in and outward trying to get a cool breeze. Shoto never looked away from his father even when he heard Midoriya clear his throat.

“Um, what’s going on in here.” The green haired boy lifted his foot, his shoes were damp from the puddles accumulating from Shoto’s ice. The walls had a heavy amount of condensation and it seemed like there were char marks on the flooring and parts of the ceiling. Midoriya knew whatever answer he was about to receive it wasn’t going to be the truth. “Pro Hero Deku, you have stumbled across a misunderstanding. My son is just emotional over his girlfriend’s de-”

“Fiancé. She wasn’t just my girlfriend, we were engaged. I was going to marry her and that’s not going to happen because you ki-”

“Because she was murdered by someone whose still out there. You should be hunting that person down instead of harassing me. Deku, if you wouldn’t mind this is over and I have other things to attend to.” Shoto was seething with hatred that scared even Midoriya who never got to see the boy like this. Endeavor turned away from the boys knowing that Shoto wouldn’t attack with Midoriya there. Shoto clenched his fist before turning and storming out of the room. He didn’t blame Midoriya for this interruption but he was upset by it. The rushed footsteps of Midoriya could be heard chasing down the revenge obsessed male.

“What the heck was that?” Midoriya had been trying to get ahold of Shoto, not for business but as a friend. He knew that Shoto was taking your death hard and everyone was worried about his reclusive distant behavior. Hell, even Bakugou was ‘worried’ about your fiancé. “Don’t worry about it, it doesn’t involve you.”

Shoto doesn’t get to take another step as Midoriya grabs him yanking his shoulder around to face him. Midoriya stared at Shoto with a look that he had seen to many times in his life. He had seen this concerned determined face all those years ago at the festival and has continued to see it every time something concerning happens that Shoto doesn’t cope well with.

“Don’t worry about it? How can I not worry when my best friend isn’t answering anyone’s calls? Doesn’t involve me! I don’t know what you were doing or talking about with your dad and maybe that doesn’t involve me but you’re my best friend.” Midoriya is breathing heavy from speaking with no break. He looks down after removing his hand from Shoto’s shoulder. His face goes from determined and concerned to downhearted. When his eyes meet Shoto’s again they both share a common emotion, hopelessness. “Also, this does involve me, I was her friend too. I care about her; everyone cares about her. We all miss her Todoroki! I know your suffering but you aren’t alone. You are isolating yourself and its not good for you. Please Shoto, talk to me.”

Shoto searches Midoriya’s eyes for any emotions other than loss and sorrow. He wants to walk away and pretend like this never happened. He thinks suffering alone is better than relying on the people around him. He hadn’t even been back to your shared home, nor had he returned to his childhood home. Instead he locked himself away in a hotel room surrounding himself with your things and any media that could drive him to kill his father. He watched videos and read articles about the disgusting man’s feats and failures. He waited for the perfect moment while clinging to your fading scent on the clothing you left behind. He was a truly broken man and even though he was a hero his intents match a certain cerulean eyed villain. There were a million things that lingered on Shoto’s tongue, words that would never get to be said. He wanted to talk, hell he wished he could have been like his classmates crying their hearts out while sharing in-depth stories but every time he picked up his phone to call or text, he saw the photo of you he had saved as his background. A picture of you smiling carefree while the sun casts rays of light that shimmer off your skin. Your hair is frozen in a windy mess behind you. Your eyes are staring at him with so much happiness and love that it hurts. It wasn’t taken on some special day or under certain circumstance, it was just a simple photo taken on a simple walk. You didn’t understand why he chose the photo yet he was overly fond of it. When the picture stared at him, he couldn’t call his friends. He just stared into your eyes wishing to see the real ones. He missed your loving gaze, he missed any look you had as long as it was toward him, even if it was anger. He wanted anything but this. Having to seek comfort in a photo was cause for heartache.

Shoto pulls his phone from his pocket, looking at the photo, before looking at Midoriya. The words still sit behind his lips, tingling, willing his to speak.

“I have nothing to say Midoriya.” Midoriya had waited with bated breath for Shoto to tell him something, anything. He could see it in his friend’s eyes, he knew there were many things that needed to be said. The response he was given punched him in the gut. He would have doubled over in pain if the punch wasn’t metaphorical. Midoriya wasn’t the type to let things go and as he watched Shoto turn around, his legs taking him god knows where. Midoriya ran after him, Shoto ignored the chase and left. He ignored the calls of his name as he exited the agency. He had to come up with a new plan. His hands found comfort in his pockets as he tried to blend in with the darkness. He heard his name echo as he turned the corner out of view. What was there to say now. If he told Midoriya what his plan was then he would try to stop him. Midoriya tried to follow but found himself in front of an alleyway of ice. He sighed pushing his hand against it. He imagined that this was the same ice that now lived in Todoroki’s heart. You were the fire that balanced it, but you were gone now.

“I wish you were here Y/n. You would know how to help him.” How ironic to need a dead person’s help when they were technically the cause of the problem. Even more ironic was while this occurred you were very much alive, asleep with your book still clutched in your hand blissfully unaware of Shoto’s unraveling mental state and morals.

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

“Good morning doll.” Usually you’d snap at Dabi for his pet name but you had gotten used to it. By now you were more like roommates, he paid rent and shopped while you did everything else. You’d never admit to being used to this life but somehow another week had passed giving you no other choice. You followed every news cast and read every paper that came out hoping to read that Endeavor had died or been critically injured. It was cruel but necessary to survive and return to Shoto. Except the disappointment had to kick in after a week of nothing. No murder or injuring occurred. You started to think maybe Dabi didn’t have as strong a hold as he thought, worst case you thought Shoto didn’t care anymore. Maybe he had given up on you. A smack to your arm caught your attention as Dabi hit you before thrusting the newest paper toward you. You snatched it up faster than he could blink. He scoffed at your pathetic gesture. He had started hating watching your face fill with hope only to be disappointed by more hero news and never any good old fashion bad news. Your mood would drop and maybe a few tears would slip away. He wasn’t irritated with you, no he hated how you did this to yourself. He knew this wasn’t paradise and that playing dead was draining. He just wished that you could relax more. He had seen your smile and heard you laugh and those moments stayed with him. He watched you now waiting. You never cried, instead you crumpled the paper. You threw it on the ground before leaving the small kitchen table. You fled the room with what seemed like betrayal and anger. The bathroom door slammed shut. This was new, not the usual reaction, now he had to read the paper. It was crumpled and torn slightly in parts but he could read it, however there was really no reason to read it when the front cover was a large candid shot of pro hero Shoto smiling with his arm around some upstart, some young female sidekick. The picture must have hurt you but Dabi knew that it was faked. The smile never reached the heroes eyes. They were dead with you. The girl was all too happy to be getting a photo with Shoto. It was publicity, the media trying to make things interesting again. The article headline read Pro Hero Shoto Mending His Broken Heart With New Love Interest? Dabi actually laughed at how pathetic it was. He continued to read about this new girl and Shoto’s love for her. It mentioned her story about how she always looked up to Shoto, how he made her strive to work harder. Shoto couldn’t be bothered to comment. Dabi leaned back in his chair smirking. This was a part of someone’s plan, whether or not it was Endeavors pathetic attempt at changing the narrative or Shoto’s attempt at distracting the media while he goes after his true goal. Either way someone was pulling the strings with this little media shake up. Dabi chucked the paper onto the table not caring for its fake news. He knew what needed to be done and he didn’t like it.

A knock on the bathroom door brought you away from the storm of thoughts brewing. You had been under the, now cold, faucet for a while now. Two things were prominent in your thoughts, killing your fiancé or the girl who dared claim him. You weren’t stupid, you could put two and two together, they weren’t actually romantic interest. However, that didn’t stop you from imagining showing up at his agency with hells fury behind you. You could imagine the pure fear that people would have watching a dead girl attempt to kill her widow. If you didn’t go after him, you’d find this girl and make her regret the day she thought she could have him. You weren’t dead so watching him potentially move on made your blood boil. He got to live like a normal human while you were trapped. You were stuck enclosed in the same rooms till god knows when. You clenched your fist aware of the missing digit, another thing you lost because of this whole mess that shouldn’t have involved you. Another knock brought your attention to the door. The water stopped as your prune fingers turned the faucet off. You let your back fall against the cold tile before slipping to the tub. You refused to cry because he didn’t deserve your tears right now. No matter the truth, you were pissed at him. No tears or tight chest, just pure unadulterated anger. Dabi finally opened the door not caring if you’d yell at him. He went to pull the curtain aside but was stopped. Your fingers gripped it tightly to prevent it from moving. “What do you want Dabi.”

“I want you doll.” A scoff could be made out behind the curtain. You rolled your eyes but he only heard your sound. He leaned against the warm and slightly damp wall waiting for a witty response or reply of disgust. You remained quiet. “I want you to get off the shower floor and get some clothes on. I got a surprise waiting for you.”

With nothing left to say Dabi left you alone. You had low expectation when it came to a surprise from your kidnapper. Hell at least Belle was given a castle and had company in the form of talking dishware. A literal beast was outdoing Dabi, but that was to be expected since fairy tales were fake and Dabi wasn’t a prince. You didn’t rush to get ready which was fine by Dabi. He sat on the couch waiting with all the necessary parts of his gift. Once you dried off and had clothing on you walked into the living room. You didn’t get to far before a bag was thrown at you. Eyes wide you move quickly to catch it before it could hit you or the ground. In the bag was a strange variety of items, that separate made no sense but together made a brilliant gift. With raised brows you pull out the first item which is a wig, with hair color different then your actual hair color, that looks so real you almost check for scalp pieces. Dabi gestures for you to keep going. With the wig on the table you pull out a small case, in it a pair of contacts that were very different from your actual eye color. The gifts were staring to create more questions and concern than pleasure or happiness. The next few items were miscellaneous pieces of clothing, all dark clothed and plain enough that they would bring attention to you. A scarf and glasses also appeared from the bottom of the bag. The only theory that you could piece together made you laugh at how ridiculous it was. The more you looked at the items on the table together the more you realized that maybe it wasn’t ridiculous. You look at Dabi skeptically as you point to the confusing surprise. “What the hell is this.”

“It’s a disguise.” Your heart stopped for a second. Could this really be happening? You look at him with pleading eyes begging for this to be real and not some kind of sick joke or trick. “You’re gonna need it to leave the apartment.”

There was no way that this was real. You must have died for real. You suck in a breath, holding it in while your chest shakes with your shoulders. You are trying to prevent yourself from crying. You still refused to believe this cruel trick. The costume pieces sat staring at you, this was farfetched. Dabi was expecting more excitement, to be praised, he should have expected that you would be skeptical. Instead of criticizing you he walks up next to before smacking your back. “Go get ready I’m not waiting all day.”

“Yes okay, I’ll be right back. You are not allowed to change your mind!” You had never moved so fast before in your life. Before being kidnapped you would have spent a good amount of time preparing to go out, especially with Shoto but right now you were throwing everything on with haste. You pulled on a pair of black leggings and over those a simple enough deep blue skirt. It was above your knees and for a moment you felt like a high schooler again. The top was long sleeve and didn’t matter because a hoodie went right over it. The hoodie wasn’t bulky and instead was light weight and thinner. The hood was most likely to hide your face if necessary. The wig was most likely the most expensive item because it was definitely not a costume one. You had to giggle since it looked like you were cosplaying. Your contact covered eyes stared back at you in the mirror, your fingers ran through the wig. You didn’t look like you and this made you feel like you were being reborn. You were still Y/n and yet the girl that stared back wasn’t her. You were dead and this girl was alive, it was almost riveting. When you walked out of the bathroom Dabi looked you over, he smirked nodding with a look that told you he was impressed. You pretended like you didn’t care but you did. A little good attention wasn’t bad to want. You were starved for it so it was no shock that you didn’t shy away from his. You walked toward the door but he was faster blocking the exit. Your heart dropped thinking he was going to laugh and tell you this was a joke. Instead he placed the fake glasses onto your face. “There are a few rules your gonna have to follow.”

Relief washed over you as your fingers brushed the cool metal that framed the fake lenses. You listen to ever word. The basic rules were to not speak to or look at anyone long enough to be recognized, you weren’t allowed to use your quirk and if any heroes tried to approach you were to act shy and hide your face. You had a lot of rules about hiding your identity and yet here was the most recognizable villain ever. He smirked knowing you felt he was being hypocritical.

“Don’t worry Doll, I got someone for this.” He motioned toward his own face where his skin was held together by staples. You nodded not knowing exactly what he would do but not really caring. You got to leave and that was the most thrilling thing ever. He opened the door and you felt the cold hallway air hit your exposed skin, which wasn’t much. A giggle escapes as Dabi holds his hand out for you to take. You grab it with vigor ready to be alive again, even if it was just for a moment.

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You had no idea how he did it but Dabi looked like a normal person. Well normal to society. Personally, you didn’t mind how he looked. He took you another apartment in the same building. He walked in and walked out without staples or scars. The quick explanation he gave was that the persons quirk helped change how someone’s appearance looks to others. Sure, enough your fingers touched his face and you could feel the staples even though you couldn’t see them. Amazement, you were amazed at this quirk before you realized the quirk could have been used on you and you wouldn’t have needed to wear the get up. Dabi knew what you were thinking when you side glanced him.

“Don’t look at me like that doll. This was expensive, much more expensive than your get up. You can wear a costume; I can’t really cover this up.” You hadn’t even thought about him having to have paid for the quirk users help. Of course, in an underground world someone gets money any way they can. You laugh at his comment about covering up his face. You walk in front of him turning, your skirt swirls around with you as your fingers brush his cheek. Your eyes hold so much kindness. “You don’t need to cover up. I think your face is perfect.”

Dabi blinks, he doesn’t really know what to say. Mostly because he never mentioned being ashamed of his scars openly. He was though. He hated how he looked but lived with it since it was his choice, technically he was forced into something so dramatic by his abusive father. You didn’t need to compliment him; you didn’t owe him a smile. You were really a peculiar person. His arm slowly lifts before a flick is administered to your forehead. Your hand quickly moves to rub the spot while you face scrunches. “How sweet you think I’m covering up because I’m ashamed when really it’s because I’m a wanted criminal. I do appreciate it sweetheart. Better watch out, I know you’re touch starved but falling for your captor is kind of cliché. No Stockholm syndrome allowed here.”

Your face went from discomfort to embarrassed. You rush after him as he walks away with a cocky grin. You hit his shoulder before walking next to him.

“I would never fall for you.”

“I know because you have your AmaZinG Shoto you love so much.” You hear Shoto’s name and feel angry again. You grab Dabi’s hand, holding it while you both leave the apartment building. He laughs knowing that you had nothing to say because it was a touchy subject. The moment you both felt the cool fall air blow by the anger you feel dissolves replaced with excitement. You are free, this was what a caged bird feels when it gets to spread its wings. You didn’t even care that you had no idea where this was. Your legs moved you off the front steps of the neglected building and you spun around on the sidewalk. Dabi laughed while his hands pushed into his pockets. He walked onto the sidewalk after you. You stopped spinning turning to him with an appreciative smile. He didn’t deserve it but he accepted it. His hand gestures forward and you grab onto him once again. You link arms with him making him raise a brow. You don’t care about his reaction because you aren’t going to let anything take away your happiness. You let him lead the way, walking passed rundown buildings and sketchy people. You don’t want to judge but it definitely wasn’t a part of town you would have been found in prior to dying. The dirty sidewalks, seedy businesses, and rundown buildings soon enough turn to crowded sidewalks and streets, large and small businesses, and hero agencies. Oh god, you looked down as you passed an agency you didn’t recognize. Dabi laughs because most kidnapped people would go screaming the first sign of ‘help’ while you were acting like you were also a wanted criminal. You looked away from the looming agency building and around the street. People walked right by you never even questioning who you were. They didn’t care. You weren’t Y/n right now, just a stranger. Dabi didn’t understand how you felt so content with being around strangers. He didn’t understand because he didn’t like people and they didn’t tend to like him. Watching you intrigued him, you didn’t run away, you hadn’t stopped smiling, and you hadn’t mentioned Shoto.

“Da-Um Dante, can we get something to drink?” You almost said his name but stopped quickly changing it to the first thing you could think of. This fake name amused Dabi causing him to smirk, not only that but he was also smirking because you asked for a drink. He wanted so badly to tease you but for some reason couldn’t find himself doing so. “Sure, doll.”

“Let’s go to that café, I want something warm with whipped cream.” Your arm released his so you could pull him along. The café wasn’t to busy and Dabi was grateful. He watched you look over the menu mouthing the items to yourself. The cashier called you forward asking your order. You ordered a large hot chocolate with extra whipped cream. The cashier smiled at your simple order before looking at Dabi.

“And would your boyfriend like something as well.” Boyfriend? Your face scrunched up like you had just smelled a soiled diaper. Dabi couldn’t hold back the laugh that escaped. The cashier could have thought you were siblings but of course you had to be dating him. Before you could comment about him not being your boyfriend he stepped forward, his arm going around your waist to help pull you to his side. He leans closer to the counter. “I’ll have a black coffee.”

“Da-” Before you could say his real name by accident his grip tightened and he gave you a look that warned you. You pouted before pulling away. He paid as you went off to find a table. You found on in a corner against the window, which was exciting to you because you could watch the people. Dabi found you daydreaming, your head in your hand while your eyes watched some high school students taking pictures together.

“God, they look stupid, poor uninformed youth. Little do they know what the pitiful future holds.” You stared across at him as he looked at the teens with a completely opposite viewpoint. A cream packet hit Dabi prompting him to bring his attention back at you. You were displeased with his commentary. “Really? Because that’s truly how everyone’s life is destined to turn out. I’d like to believe that those kids are going to grow up and enjoy life, they might change the world or make a big difference. I know you have your reasons to not enjoy life but that doesn’t mean everyone is going down the same path. Everyone deserves a chance to be happy.”

“Hit a nerve, did I?” Dabi had almost forgotten that you both came from different worlds. While you believed in hope, he had none. Hope was for children, for fools. You however knew the cruelties of the world and still help onto the sliver of hope you had left. These kids were you. They laughed and you remembered when you were their ages, laughing with your own friends. Now you were trapped, a prisoner of your own accord. Regardless you did not find him funny or charming. “Such a prick.”

“Never said I was anything else.” He was annoying and arrogant but honest. He never pretended he was a gentleman; you chose to believe he could be one. You couldn’t argue with him. It also wasn’t worth ruining your time outside the apartment. This outing was yours not his.

“Your drinks.” You thanked the barista who dropped off your order. You held the cup a gentle smile crossing your lips. Dabi didn’t touch his drink, instead he was watching the people outside. His own thoughts bringing him to think about your future. He wasn’t planning on keeping you around forever but his plan was working slowly. You were now intertwined with his life. He thought about you every time he left the apartment. You could have escaped but you hadn’t even tried. It was like his promise to release you was good enough to calm you, to make you trust him. His eyes watched you through the window, your reflection seen from his angle. The way you licked the whipped cream from your lips caught his attention. He looked beyond your reflection and at the people passing, not wanting to get to invested in watching you. He wondered how long you’d spend running around the city till he’d have to drag you back.

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six hours had come and gone and yet to you it was minutes. You had missed the fresh air, the sunlight dancing on your skin, and the chatter of people around you. You had actually had conversations with strangers, you spoke to people and they spoke with you. It was thrilling and yet as the sun started setting you knew that it would be ending soon. Your face fell with your shoulders at the idea of going back. Dabi would have went back by now but you wanted to stay out and this was all for you. He drank the subpar coffee, walked the crowded stores, ate overpriced food, and even let you get close to people and conversate despite the risk. The streetlights turned on and it seemed even more people were out. Dabi’s phone was vibrating against his leg, his hand reached into his pocket to pick it up. You were watching one of the TV sets that was playing a news station. He hesitated before disappearing down an empty alleyway to answer the call.

“I told you not to call me today.” The irritation was clear in Dabi’s a statement.

“I’m well aware of what you told me it’s just that we have a problem.”

“What problem is to big for pro hero hawks that he has to call a villain to get help from.”

“Shoto.”

There was a brief moment of silence, tension in the air and through the phone. Dabi thought things were moving slowly so now he was sure that the pro’s need for revenge was dwindling. The sidekick in the photo came to mind. Maybe there were to many distractions, maybe he needed a push in the right direction. A reminder of his loss.

“What’s the problem.”

“He hasn’t been coming by endeavors agency and I haven’t seen much of him even in the district. He might be planning something but currently he is avoidant of his father and thus is getting in the way of the plan.”

Dabi was right, but of course he was right, brother’s intuition. This was beyond irritating news but he was already formulating a plan. That plan needed to happen, now. He could hear the phone move away from his informant, hawks, followed by whispering. The person speaking in the background had no idea that their precious hero was helping destroy the current number one. Dabi hung up the call and texted hawks a brief warning. Looked like it was time to send you home. The moment he left the alleyway he found you were gone. Of course, you were gone. He disappeared without telling you where he was going. Hell, he wouldn’t be shocked if you finally gathered the courage and common sense to run away. Before he could even begin to question your whereabouts, he saw you. You were leaning against a clothing store with your hands held in front of you. A stray tear was making its way down your cheek as you looked into the night sky above. The lights and clouds forming made it hard to see any stars. Dabi walked through the crowds of people with only you in his sights. Why were you crying? His hand reached for you but retracted immediately when he watched someone else catch your tear. His body stood frozen amongst a group of business men while his worst fear surfaced.

“Are you okay? I saw you and couldn’t help coming over here. You look so sad, familiar and sad.” Standing in front of you, so close his breath touched your face, was red riot. He was in disguise just like you were but not as intense. He wore a hoodie to cover his hair which was down instead of spiked. A mask hid his rows of shark like teeth and his casual clothing made his build less noticeable. You knew who he was even before you looked at him. His voice laced with concern and care was more familiar than his looks to you. He wasn’t a close friend but if you were friends with Eijiro Kirishima he thought the world of you, would die or kill for you. He was ride of die and right now he was talking to a dead friend with no clue. Your throat tightened and fear pulsed through your veins. Fear of being caught? Dabi taught you that, that being caught was bad, that if this plan didn’t happen then things would end up so much worse. Fear wasn’t the only thing you felt. You wanted to lean into his hand when it caught your tears. You yearned for his attention, for physical contact from a past that seems so far away regardless of how much time it had really been. You look into his kind crimson eyes and realize that maybe he was trying to figure out who you were. He looked curious but there was a hint of confusion. He was wondering why you were familiar and the only thought he had made no sense. If you talked, he would figure it out. You were literally stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“I…” You didn’t have to speak because someone else spoke up instead. Dabi’s hand yanked you away from the wall and into his side. He turned you till your chest was pressed into his own, hiding your familiar features away from the prying heroes’ eyes. He knew that his own self was way more familiar but with this quirk hiding his distinct features he didn’t worry about getting caught. Dabi’s piercing stare causes Kirishima to back up, his hands raised in surrender.

“Are you bothering my girlfriend.” Dabi’s voice was distinct and yet when he spoke, he sounded like someone else. He had spoken with a deep growl that fit his usual tone but something was off. Somehow, he wasn’t Dabi talking. You couldn’t be offended by his words since he was saying them to save the both of you. Yet deep down you weren’t disgusted or offended, instead hearing him growl with a twinge of overprotective jealousy made your heart skip a beat. The way he held onto you in a tight possessive manner made you almost fall for the false title as his girlfriend.

“I didn’t mean any harm. I saw her crying and she seemed sad so I wanted to make sure she was okay… She reminded me of a friend I recently lost.” Kirishima was never the type to make trouble but he did find himself stumbling upon it quite often. He sounded sincere and didn’t want Dabi to get the wrong idea. You knew Dabi didn’t actually believe you were being harassed; he was preventing you both from getting involved in something that would jeopardize everything. The part that really hit you hard was his last sentence. You reminded him of you. He approached you hoping to ease your pain but also because he wished you were the real thing. The harsh reality being that you were the real you and he wasn’t allowed to know that. He was mourning you as well and he wanted to look into your eyes and see the girl that used to go drinking with the Bakusquad. Instead he saw your glossy tear covered contacts. He saw the fake you and was reminded that people don’t just come back from the dead. You had to bite your bottom lip to prevent yourself from running to him, to prevent a slip up just because you wanted to give him reassurance. Dabi’s grip on you tightened, as if he knew what you were contemplating. “She’s fine, just got lost in the crowd. Thanks for the worry but we must get going. Sorry about your friend.”

“Hey!” As Dabi turned away from Kirishima to walk away with you, a voice called out to the red head. Your body got tense and Dabi recognized it as he jolted his head back toward the hero. Bakugou was in his own shitty disguise walking toward his best friend. Kirishima was a good boy, someone who wouldn’t harass strangers, Bakugou wasn’t the same way. If he thought you were familiar, he would interrogate you. Dabi was ready to use his quirk to escape if needed, ideally he would prefer not to. “Come on shitty hair, let’s go.”

“Sorry… I forgot we were supposed to meet up. I saw this girl and she reminded me of Y/n.” Dabi was already pulling you away again the moment he realized Bakugou hadn’t noticed the two of you. The crowd started to swallow you up but you could still make out what Kirishima had sadly spoken, you also heard Bakugou’s response. “Idiot, she’s dead. You gotta stop looking for her, you’re starting to act like Icy Hot.”

You let yourself be dragged down streets and away from the lit-up buildings. Your day had already faded to night and now you knew where you were headed. Dabi was obviously taking you home and surprisingly you didn’t mind. It had been fun but, after hearing your former friends talk about you as if you were a ghost, the fun dissipated into self-loathing. At some point Dabi wasn’t holding your arm anymore, instead you followed slightly behind him as he led you back. He would have told you that it was time to return but he knew that you were well aware. Your mood had soured and he wasn’t going to contribute more than he had. The apartment building was dark when you arrived outside it. You would easily enough deem it an abandoned building had you not been living here. Dabi held the front door open for you allowing you to walk through the doorway and into the hallway with the flickering yellow bulbs. Dabi walked behind you occasionally telling you where to turn, until you got to the apartment. He let you inside and went to apologize but you had already started heading to your bedroom. He planned on leaving immediately but that didn’t happen. He followed you inside, his phone discarded on the table as it attempted to interrupt him.

“Did you have a good day?” You stopped outside the bedroom door and thought about the hours outside these walls. Despite how it ended you did have fun. Hell, you had a blast just being out in the fresh air, surrounded by people and bustling buildings. It was sad that you found satisfaction in freedom but who wouldn’t after living their life locked up for an undetermined amount of time. A small smile graced your lips as you pulled off the wig. You held it in your hand as your hair settled down back against your face. You turned and looked your captor, friend? in the eyes.

“I had a good day, thank you Dabi.” You open the bedroom door before disappearing into the room leaving Dabi a little surprised by your answer. His shoulders shake when he starts laughing. He really had no idea what to think of you. He walked away from the door calling out to you that he was leaving. Without a response from you he left. You didn’t cry once you were alone. Instead you sat on the floor with your head in your hands replaying the boy’s words. Kirishima thought you were familiar, Bakugou had to remind him that you were dead and yet you were pulling a fast one on them. Had it been Shoto would he have known? Would he instantly know despite the layers of disguise? Would Midoriya have known it was you. Would he have chased you down? These words meant nothing because there was no way to test if this would happen. Had Shoto shown himself on the crowded street Dabi would have taken you home immediately. He didn’t find the others a threat, Shoto was a pawn so of course him seeing you was a threat.

Bzzt bzzt bzzt. The sound of vibrating could be heard coming from the living room. An eyebrow raised as you sat up, getting off the floor. Had Dabi not actually left? You dragged yourself down the hall finding that you were alone in the apartment. The only thing out of place was Dabi’s phone sitting on the table. The entire time you had been here Dabi hadn’t let his phone out of his sight. You wondered if this was a trap as you approached it. The screen was lit up and you saw a text waiting to be read. The missed call notification was below the text box. You read the contact name. You didn’t have to decipher the insulting nickname; You knew that the person trying to get ahold of Dabi was Hawks. You unlocked his phone, you had seen the code before when he hadn’t realized you were watching, the text popped up. You tried to ignore snooping through the previous messages and instead opted to read only the ones that had just arrived.

[I know you already have your mind set on this but maybe rethink this. I don’t think it’s going to go the way you want it to.]

[Are you ignoring my calls on purpose?]

[You can’t kill Shoto’s new sidekick. It messes up your plan against Endeavor.]

[Shoto just left the agency…]

The words reflected off your drying eyes as you read through the texts. Your heart had started racing as you read what his intensions were tonight. What had led him to this decision? Had you contributed to his idea to kill her. You didn’t want to be the reason an innocent life was taken even if you held hatred for her that very morning. This couldn’t be happening. Had Dabi had his phone would the texts change his mind. Had you known his plan prior to him leaving would you have been able to stop him. Your grip on his cell tightened as you decided what needed to done. You hadn’t taken off your disguise, it was dark outside, and you had a shit ton of adrenaline coursing through you. You held onto the phone as you ran out the door making sure it locked before you disappeared down the dully lit hallway. The outside world was much darker and colder than it had been earlier. You had no idea where to look for him but you realized that he might have mentioned a location. You checked back through the texts but found no location, instead a lot of conversations about Endeavors demise and Shoto’s involvement. You went to the internet looking for answers to where the sidekick could be. You found a tweet the showed a picture that had been taken ten minutes prior. The photo had the girl posing with a large electric building clock in the background. You knew where this was and the time gave you an idea of how long ago this was actually taken. You hoped you’d make it in time. You were suddenly hit with the fear that Dabi wouldn’t hesitate to hurt you if you tried to stop him. You let the fear settled in your stomach while your legs sent you flying down streets. People looked at you like you were crazy and the funny thing was you were thinking the same thing. You were crazy, this was all insane. The craziest part being your conflict over whether you were doing this to save an innocent girl or because you didn’t want Dabi getting caught. A groan of frustration left you as you found the building the photo was taken in front of. Your legs were throbbing from running. You were curious as to why a sidekick under Endeavor would be so far from their district. You looked around while overthinking everything. You needed to figure out where she would go and where Dabi would ambush her. An alley would be his primary choice and there were plenty of those around. You ran around asking people if they had seen her, using Dabi’s phone to show the picture. People thought you were some crazed fan before pointing you off in different directions. Eventually you felt defeated, like all this was for nothing. What if Dabi had realized his phone was missing and went back to get it. He would definitely be on his way to kill you. The alternative thought was that the girl was already dead. Your feet begged for you to stop walking. You just about gave up when the most putrid smell hit you. Your hands covered your nose and mouth. You gagged. The smell brought you closer and closer to the truth. You followed it knowing what it was. The smell of charred flesh, burning hair, boiling blood. The smell of overcooked organs and crackling bones.

“Dear god.” You found her. You found her the exact way you hoped not to. What was left of her corpse was enough to identify her. Her teeth could be seen since her lips and the skin around them was burned away. Her gums had burns as well, her tongue was nonexistent. Her eyes seemed to have boiled but you could still make out her warped irises. He didn’t burn away all of her hair; you could see slight strands sticking to what skin remained on her scalp. Her body was worse off. You couldn’t look at her any longer. You turned sobbing into the same hands that prevented the smell from invading your nose. You could prevent the smell from getting stuck in your nose. You would remember this smell for the rest of your life, her burnt corpse would live in the darkest recesses of your mind. Your legs were starting to lose their ability to remain standing. You wanted nothing more than to escape this hellscape you had searched for. You glanced back again at her before quickly looking away again. Sobs slipped out as you mourned her, a stranger who this morning you wished didn’t exist. It was ironic really. You could help but blame yourself. “I’m so sorry… I didn’t want this to happen.”

You showered yourself in blame but the reality was that Dabi needed Shoto to remember you, to remember his need for revenge, and in order to achieve that Shoto needed to be reminded what you had supposedly gone through. Except you were actually alive and this girl wasn’t. You finally snapped out of it enough to want to leave. Dabi was obviously gone which meant you were limited on time to get back before he saw you were gone. You pulled out the phone and realized there was another missed call from Hawks. You opened the voicemail and had in playing in your ear.

“Dabi! You have to get the hell out of there. She sent an emergency alert and Shoto is looking for her. He’s on his way there now.”

Fear once again crept over you as you let your arm drop down to your side. The phone light cast a shadow on the wall and revealed someone approaching. Suddenly the alleyway felt warm and yet chills engulfed your body. You turned slowly as you felt the intruder staring at you.

“Shoto…” You whispered his name, a million feelings trying to surface but all you could do was smile sadly. You never thought about the body sitting behind you and the smell no longer existed as you watched him walk closer. You were unaware of what he was thinking, what he was feeling. He was already upset that day, his anger waiting to surface and now it was bubbling out in the form of ice creeping down the alley way ground and heat burning along the walls. The light from the phone had disappeared as the screen blackened. The light was now being cast from the Shoto’s flames. The closer Shoto got the ore he could see. He was staring at a woman in a black hoodie, dark skirt, and black leggings. A woman with unfamiliar hair and eyes. He was staring at a stranger. You were a stranger standing in front of a dead body. The charred disfigured corpse of his newest sidekick. You weren’t a stranger anymore but instead a villain. This wasn’t a case of stumbling upon a dead body, No. To Shoto he had arrived late and you hadn’t left on time. You stepped to the side as if you were expecting him to walk past you. It was a mistake. He was able to see her body, your own demise came flying to the forefront of his mind. You had been a pile of ash and she was still recognizable but the two were far too similar. He looked at you and for a moment you thought he saw the real you. His hand raised and you couldn’t help smiling, imagining his hand cupping your cheek. His arms around you holding you. Instead his eyes held pain, pure unadulterated hatred. His flames danced across his body and you had no time to react as they were sent directly toward you. The alley way was blazing with fire and yet your feet were iced to the ground. There was no escape as you witnessed your fiancé look at you with the need for revenge, he wanted you dead. A sob escaped as the flames finally reached you. They dance lightly against your skin before dissipating. Red flames were now blue as a wall surrounded you. You had closed you eyes while waiting for death. You’d accepted this so easily but someone else wasn’t going to. You hadn’t realized that Dabi had come for you. When he saw Shoto he knew it wasn’t going to go the way your imagination wanted it to. He knew the broken man would try to kill you. His flames burned hotter than Shoto’s which he used to his advantage. He protected you by burning away the flames that attempted to swallow you up. His body emerged from the blue inferno. The quirk that had hid his flaws was gone. His face was back to being graphed and stapled, his eyes burned with as much hatred as Shoto’s. His hatred was conflicted, he hated Shoto for trying to hurt you and he hated himself for ever putting you in this situation. You were sobbing on your knees as you heard Shoto screaming out in frustration. Dabi laughed at his pathetic brother as he walked in front of you. His flames still wildly blazing around you, never actually touching you.

“You killed her… It was you. You killed the love of my life. That girl you’re protecting, I bet you love her. I bet you’d be destroyed of she died. I’ll take her from you. I’ll make you regret ever taking Y/n.” Shoto was fast as he rushed Dabi, but Dabi was faster to defend and retaliate. You couldn’t move as Shoto’s words echoed through you. You could feel how broken he was and all you could think about was how you were the one who did this to him. Regret burned hotter than the flames. You watched Dabi and Shoto move like a well-choreographed dance. Never hitting the other as flames and ice clashed. The wall of ice thrust in front of Dabi was shattered with a sharp punch from the raven-haired boy. Shoto moved forward while droplets of water rained down as his ice was melted. His hands finally reached Dabi as they took ahold of his throat. Dabi lifted his own hand thrusting it against the duel quirked boys face. His quirk activated causing Shoto to release him while yelling out in pain. His face wasn’t burned but it was red, irritation from the heat evident on his skin. Dabi approached him while rubbing his throat which now had hand marks on it. He stood in front of his clueless brother.

“I didn’t kill her. Endeavor killed her, just like he killed your brother. Endeavor is somewhere laughing at you as you spiral out of control. I’m having doubts that you ever loved her because if you had then he’d be dead. Had you really loved her maybe she’s be alive right now.” Dabi was letting his emotions take control as he taunted the pro hero. He wanted Shoto to hurt physically and mentally. He wanted him to suffer even after he killed endeavor and got you back. At this rate he might not even want to give you to a man that he felt didn’t deserve you. Shoto let the words settle, to dig under his skin. He wasn’t about to let Dabi get away with his statement, or any of his actions. He wasn’t going to go for the villain. He was going to go for you. His ice shot him upward giving him an advantage. Dabi was ready for the attack but it never came. Instead he became all to aware of the fact that you hadn’t fled the scene. “Dammit.”

“No hard feelings.” Shoto spoke directly to you as he dropped from his ice wall beyond the blue flames. He landed in front of you so close you could touch him. You looked up at him slowly lifting your hand toward him hoping he would take it. He slapped it away looking at you with disgust. To him you were begging for your life, looking for repentance. He had none to give you. You wanted him to looked past the contacts, through the wig. Why couldn’t he see you? You smiled sadly mouthing an I love you before closing your eyes. Tears dripped down your still burning cheeks. It was as if the next few moments happened in slow motion. Shoto moved his hand hovering above you as the fire engulfed the world around you. You felt the pain set in dragging a scream from deep within your chest. It was searing pain that didn’t fade even as the flames disappeared with the burning of Shoto’s body. The flames burned a blue so bright they were almost white. Dabi’s body burned with his quirk use. The smell of hair and skin burning once again invaded your senses and you had no idea if you were smelling yourself or one of them. Shoto was yelling out in pain while Dabi yelled with anger. The moment returned to normal speed as you heard Hawks yelling above. “SHOTO STOP!!!” Shoto looked up as well had Dabi. Immediately he knew this was his time to get the hell out of there. He ran past his brother, both men in excruciating pain. Shoto reached out to stop him but he hesitated when he heard Hawks screaming for him to back down. He could hear the sirens as he watched Dabi collect you into his arms. He was trying to put as little pressure on your new wounds as he could while carrying you. In your delirious pained state, you reached your left hand out toward him. He had to have been delirious himself because he could have sworn that the villain girl, he had just tried to kill was missing her ring finger, the same finger that was left for him.

“Y/n.” Your name slipped from his lips as you were carried away from the scene. Your eyes closed and you drifted off into a nightmare that resembled the moments that had transpired that night. Dabi brought you home cursing himself and everything around him. He punched the wall cracking it. He growled as his back hit the same wall he just punched. He didn’t understand why he wanted so badly to kill Shoto right now but he knew that it was all because of you. You were supposed to be a small pawn to get the game going, to get it closer to the climax and now you were involved deeper than he wanted. You were never supposed to get hurt, not like this. Looking at your burned skin, relieved that the burns weren’t third degree. He was able to protect you but wished he had done more. You should have been unscathed and yet you lay on the couch marked due to his own family’s mistakes.

“I’m so sorry Y/n.” He moved to the front of the couch his hand brushing your scorched cheek. The wig had basically burned away and the contacts needed to be removed before they caused permanent damage to your eyes. A knock on the door told him that help had arrived.

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Hours had gone by and you remained in a mindscape that resembled hell. Shoto continuously killing you while you felt and watched every moment. He reminded you about how you didn’t matter to him, that he never loved you and yet his eyes said they did. It was a cruel world to be trapped in. Slowly thought that world faded and you could see a dull light behind your heavy lids. You could hear a voice gently speaking to you, apologies and promises. When you finally found the strength to open your eyes you found Dabi staring at you. His eyes looked sad but that quickly changed to shock as he realized you were awake. He smirked, or at least tried to.

“I guess true loves kiss does wake a princess.” You scoffed before attempting to slap him. You body was sore but when you saw your skin you had no burns. There were slight markings that made you think that you had been in much worse shape. Dabi was smiling at you as he sat back sighing in relief. You attempted to sit up and he was quick to move and help you. He held your back pulling you up without hurting you. You thanked him and he nodded before getting you a glass of water. He almost dropped it when he saw that you were crying. The glass was left on the coffee table as his arms reached around you. He hadn’t hugged many people in his life but he knew that it held the power to help. You clung to him sobbing into his shoulder, screaming practically. It was painful for Dabi to hear and t reminded him of his newest hatred for Shoto. His hands held you protectively, comfortingly. You held onto him crying until your throat was raw and your tear ducts dried. Eventually it was just you being gently rocked by Dabi as hiccupped sobs continued to escape.

“What do I do know Dabi. What do I do when I died for him and he tried to kill me? I used to dream of our reunion, it was beautiful and full of tears and love. Now when I close my eyes, I picture the flames, the screaming. I hear his words as he tries to kill me. I can feel the look of disgust and hatred.” You had to cover your mouth to try and stop the oncoming panic attack. You wanted to scream but couldn’t. “What do I do when all that kept me alive was the idea of being free to be me again, but the world doesn’t need me in it. He doesn’t need me. I’m a villain in his eyes and I think he might be one in mine now. What is there left for me now.”

“Stop. Please stop. I need you Y/n.” Dabi pulled you against his chest as his lips crashed into your own. A moment of pure emotion and adrenaline. He promised to himself, as his lips molded to yours, that he would make things right for you even if that meant giving up his plan.

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