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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 8 months ago

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I love how you characterize Aaron Hotchner! Would you please write something for him along with the quote ‘keep your eyes open, sweetheart’? Completely up to you, but was definitely thinking about some heavy angst 🙃🙃

"look at me" - hotch x gn!bau!reader - 985 words

cw: injuries and depictions of violence, general angst, anxiety, hotch literally just being a hero as per freakin usual

why hello my love! thank you sm for this request <3

i don't write a lot of angst, it's certainly something i need practice with! but i really enjoyed writing this and i smooch ur lil forehead

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People always say that in a near-death experience, your whole life flashes before your eyes.

Not yours.

You didn’t see your whole life, no. You saw bits and pieces - learning to ride a bike, walking at your high school graduation, pinning your FBI badge to your blazer. And then you just saw Aaron.

The first time you met, shaking hands as a brazen formality in the middle of a case, feeling his deep, brown eyes scrutinize your every move, watching him watch you. He was testing you back then, seeing if you’d be a good fit for the team.

The first real conversation you shared with him - The Beatles, which song was his favorite? Laughing at him when he said Yellow Submarine.

When he held your hand for the first and only time on a particularly rough case, about four months ago, and promised you that things would get better.

When you comforted him for the first time, about three months ago, after Haley left him. You promised him that everything happens for a reason.

Five minutes ago, when you told him you felt certain the unsubs were going to strike again. You felt it in the pits of your stomach, you told Aaron. And he just nodded and said he trusted your intuition. Then he held the door open for you, and led you out of the police station, into the dead-quiet night of the street.

He clicked the key fob in his hand, and the SUV burst into red-hot flames and sent you both flying. You were immediately knocked unconscious, your body thrust out into the street flippantly, like someone had simply thrown a baseball.

You come to on the concrete, your head pounding. All sound is muffled, but you see Aaron on his knees, hovering over you. His face is covered in dirt and soot and blood, and he keeps cupping his hand over his ear.

“ - hear me?” Sound is restored in the middle of Aaron’s question. It’s abrupt, like someone changing the channel on the TV, but you can hear again. You feel dizzy and disoriented as you prop yourself up on your elbows.

“Stay down,” Aaron instructs, guiding you gently to lay flat on your back once again. Your entire body is throbbing.

“Aaron,” you feel a panicked, whispered sob escape you. He grabs your hand and you feel him squeeze it. Your eyes roll into the back of your head. You feel dizzy, like you might pass out again and Aaron’s grip tightens around your hand. “It hurts.”

“Keep your eyes open for me, sweetheart. Please?” The endearment rolls off of Aaron’s tongue like he’s said it a million times before. He hasn’t. Your relationship with him has been professional-ish up until this point. You’re not sure how he feels about you, exactly, but at this moment, it doesn’t matter.

He doesn’t even acknowledge that he said it. “What hurts?” Aaron’s speaking loudly, like someone who has headphones in. His hand is still pressed against his ear.

“All of it,” you murmur. “Everything.”

You feel tears in your eyes. Your stomach is in knots and you feel like someone is sitting on your chest. You blink a few times, feeling the tears drip down your face and onto your lips, salty and full of dread.

Aaron’s checking you over, you realize, lifting your head gently and quickly to make sure you’re not bleeding. He’s talking to you, telling you what he’s doing so you don’t panic even more. He uses feather-light touches to lift your arm, and pain shocks you, coursing through your wrist. “Shh, hey, I’m sorry,” he says, laying your arm by your side. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Your wrist is broken.”

You blink a few tears away.

“I’m going to pick you up, Y/N,” he tells you. He never calls you by your first name, but you’re in so much pain that you can’t even be jarred by it. “Can you move your other arm?”

It feels laden, but you can. You nod and whimper in confirmation.

“Can you hook it around my neck?” He asks as he slides his hands under you. The crooks of your knees and your back are cradled by Aaron’s arms and you wrap your arm around his neck. Once he determines you’re stable in his arms, he lifts you up. You hear sirens blaring as they get closer, and you see Aaron grimace. You feel his body tense up, his fingers curl around the fabric of your shirt.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him in an unfiltered mumble, sniffling as he carries you towards the nearest ambulance.

“It’s just my ear. I’m fine, Y/N. I’ll be fine,” he promises, but you feel how labored his gait is. It’s taking everything in him to carry you to the ambulance. You want to tell him to stop, to remind him that the paramedics can bring the gurney to you. But you’re so tired, so dizzy. You think maybe if you just rest your eyes a little bit, you might feel better. Your head tilts to rest in the crook of Aaron’s neck. Your eyes flutter shut.

“Y/N, you might have a concussion. You have to stay awake, okay?” Aaron’s voice draws you back. Your eyes are shaky when they open, and you see him looking at you with weighted concern as he sets you onto the gurney.

The paramedics load you shakily up into the ambulance, and you reach your uninjured arm out. “You’re going to the hospital with me, right?” You ask.

Aaron nods, climbing in after the paramedics and sitting beside you. His eyes are piercing and full of consternation as he takes your uninjured hand in both of his. He runs his fingertips over your knuckles, nodding assuredly, though you are certain he is feeling exactly the opposite. “Yeah. Of course. I’m not going to leave you.”

#criminal minds #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner #hotch fic #aaron hotchner imagine #hotchner #hotch #hotchner angst #hotch angst #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x you #hotchner x reader #criminal minds fic

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birdkatze · 10 months ago

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"But werewolves aren't real?" || werewolf! 141 x werewolf! reader Part 2

Future pairings = poly 141 x reader

Chapter pairings = You meet the boys this chapter!

Words = 2.2k

[Chapter 1] --- [Chapter 3]

Summery: After moving out of the big city and into the forest, you meet some men that might have some awners about whats been causing your pain.

Talks of injury and EXPLICIT under the cut

Behind the door was a very handsome man. He was wearing a boonie-hat and a partially unbuttoned red and black flannel shirt. You stood there blue-screening for a moment just staring.

“You alright there love?” The man asked, looking incredibly concerned. He ran a hand over his beard “I heard you fall..”

You snap out of your staring “Yeah I did..” you lift up your wrist, it was already bruising and swelling, “Sorry, I didn’t get any sleep last night…I had a chronic pain flare up…” You say dizzily.

The man stepped into your house, carefully looking at your wrist “I can go run back home and grab a brace…?” He looked at you earnestly.

You nod, “I don’t think I could even drive right now..” blinking back tears as another wave of pain crashes over you, you let out a stuttered gasp and your knees buckle.

The man looks even more concerned “Let’s get you somewhere comfortable, I’ll call one of my boy’s to bring it down..”

Carefully the man picked you up and brought you over to the couch, laying you down with such gentleness it surprised you. He had held you with a shocking amount of care, he was so warm too, like a heated blanket but better. He stepped back quickly typing something on his phone before looking back at you.

“Is there anything I can get you, love?” he crouched down next to your head, moving strands of hair out of your face.

“On my bed there is a heated blanket…” You explain breathlessly, wincing as the pain got worse.

The man nodded and walked upstairs to grab the blanket. He quickly brought it down and plugged it in “What setting?” he asked, holding the controller.

“Four please” You whimper and start crying feeling embarrassed.

The man sets it on level four and sits down next to your head, “Do you have any medication?”

You shake your head “no..not really, I only have muscle relaxers but it’s not gunna help”

The man nodded “I forgot to mention I’m John Price, I was in charge of taking care of the cottage while it was up for sale, I saw you moved in and wanted to give you the key back..” he anxiously checked his phone “The boy’s should be down soon love, can I get you anything else?”

“No thanks” You start crying again as your body feels like it is trying to come apart, “I’m sorry” you gasp out and curl up into a ball on the couch “It’s not usually this bad..”

“You’re okay, Love,” He reassured you, smiling.

You hear a knock on the door before the door creaks open and two men step inside. One had a mohawk and another had a baseball cap on, that's all you could see through your glassy tear filled eyes.

The men speak in hushed tones before Price sits back down next to you and gently grabs your upper forearm, close to your elbow “Gunna fit the brace on alright love..?”

You just groan softly “Okay” and watch hazily.

Price rotates your arm and freezes as he sees the bite scar on your wrist “What happened here?” he asks softly. His touch easing some of the pain.

“Got attacked by a dog, it broke my wrist, the doctor p-put something in there to help with the infection and to set it and so it’s really tender..” you quietly explain.

Price set your arm down “Love, what did the dog look like?” making you whine in pain, Price instantly picked your arm back up and the pain leveled out. Sighing in relief you manage to cobble together some understandable thoughts.

“Uhm, it was oddly really dark out since it was a full moon…it was massive though, the nurses joked it was a werewolf, the doctor got oddly mad at them..it was kinda funny” slurring your words as you feel another wave of pain.

Price looked at your wrist and then at you, “Well I think your body is rejecting it, I can see it starting to come out, can we take it out? Gaz here was a field medic and can take it out, he has his med kit..?” pointing at a small lump on your wrist that had been getting bigger over the years.

“Sure..” you slur out feeling delirious from pain.

The guy with the baseball ca-Gaz slowly gives you some pain pills, making sure you swallow them before he puts on some gloves. You fell asleep before he even started.

When you woke up you felt eons better, nothing felt as sore. Looking at your wrist you realize it wasn’t even bruised or sprained. Groaning softly, you sit up and look around. Rubbing your eyes blearily.

“Good to see you up” Gaz sat on the other side of the couch smiling “You feeling better?”

You nod sleepily “What did you even do? It’s not even bruised anymore?” you ask confused, looking at your wrist surprised.

“That was all you Duck..” Gaz smiled kindly, “Why don’t we get some food in you and talk, yeah?” Gaz gently helps you up, leading you into the kitchen.

Mohawk was heating up soup on your stove top, he was humming softly. Price was sitting at the table looking at his phone with the implant sitting on a paper towel. He looked up, smiling at you.

“Glad to see you up, love!” He looks at you and then the implant “Soap brought down some soup, which is..?”

“Done!” Soap places five bowls on the table “Ghost is on his way down..”

“What kind of name is Soap?” you ask curiously “Did your parents want you to have a unique name?”

“Ach noo, it’s a nickname, my name is John and so is Price’s and apparently everyone else here is named John so it helps us keep everyone apart..” leaning against the counter Soap explains with a smile.

“Ohh..” nodding as you think about it “Most of the men I used to work with were named John and it was a nightmare to distinguish which was which because none of them wanted to go by their last names”

Sitting down you look at the implant curiously, it looked like a small silver ball.

“Makes sense that was messing me up, I’m allergic to silver!” You explain looking a bit surprised “I’m surprised I didn’t keel over and die..”

Suddenly all eyes are on you.

“Did I say something wrong” you ask confused looking between all three men.

“Duck, let’s get some food in you before we go any further…” Gaz spoke softly

You nod nervously “Alright..”

Someone knocked on the door right as you started sitting down. The door opened to reveal a tall, strong but not muscular, blonde. Your mouth dried up instantly, he was just as hot as the other three.

Then it hit you, you had four unknown men who were all extremely attractive were in your house. You had let them perform a procedure while you had been knocked out from pain medication. However, no alarm bells rang out in your mind, if anything you've never felt so safe and content.

“Don’t think too hard, pup” the blonde one who upclose appeared to have eyeliner on. Smirking at you as you realized you were probably staring.

“Sorry..” you flush, feeling a bit embarrassed looking at the table.

“You’re okay Duck, let’s get some food in you..I have a feeling you missed breakfast.” Gaz’s soothing voice pulled you from your embarrassment as he softly brushed his hand over your back.

You nod and watch as Soap serves everyone soup. You anxiously waited for someone to eat first, an odd anxiety created as a child from praying before eating or else you’d be punished.

Price took the first bite and you immediately started eating, you felt famished and half-starved.The soup was potato-bacon soup, it was hearty and delicious. You almost moaned from how good it was.

“Soooo..” Soap started “Where are ya from?” He was looking at you with curious eyes.

“I moved here from the city but uh I grew up in a smaller town north here.” You smile while finishing up your soup. “Some of our property went into the woods and so me and my friends would camp out there, then I got attacked by some dog and we moved almost right after….”

“I assume you guys are from here?” You return the question with a small smile.

“We've been around here for a long time, pup” Scraping his bowl, Ghost responded.

“We live a few miles south of you, love” Price continued for Ghost, also finishing up his soup.

Gaz looked at you quizzically “Did you not go to college? Not to be judgemental but I’m surprised you could afford to move out here so young, Duck..”

Laughing you shake your head “You’re fine, I get this a lot.” setting your bowl to the side you reply “I’m actually 60! Everyone always thinks I’m still in my late teens, I have no clue why I look like how I did as a teenager.. I went to college and now I do freelance accounting work!”

Gaz dropped his spoon in his bowl, his eyes wide staring at you before they darted over to Price. Soap slapped his hand over his mouth with an expression similar to Gaz’s. Price didn’t look super surprised and neither did Ghost.

Sighing Price looks at you sincerely “Love, you're going to think we are crazy but you’re a werewolf.”

You just stare at them blankly.

“What?” You ask incredulously, looking at each of the men. They all had genuine looks on their faces, you could tell none of them were lying. “But werewolves aren’t real..?”

“Let’s head outside and we'll show ya, pup.” Ghost stood up and opened up the sliding glass door, Gaz and Soap quickly walked outside looking excited. You followed hesitantly with Price gently leading you outside.

Gaz and Soap are stripping out of their clothes, it didn’t surprise you that Soap was commando. It was a pleasant surprise to see Gaz wearing lace panties. Your face heated up as you turned away and pinch yourself unsure if this was real. “Um, what are you guys doin?” You ask, blushing.

“Don’t wanna rip the clothes pup” Ghost huffs, while also undressing.

“Oh!” nodding you glance up only to find them all naked, you avert your eyes to the ground immediately.

Soap walked up to you, looking confused “Why aren’t ya..”

“Soap..” Price grabbed Soap’s shoulder “Go over with Gaz.”

Gently lifting your chin up, Price held your face so you were looking at Gaz and Soap. Price chuffed at the boys and motioned for them to get on with it.

Soap grinned at you as you watched as his body transformed into an actual wolf. Gaz did the same, it was an odd mix of animorph-type transformation and something out of a horror flick.

Gaz and Soap trotted up to you licking your hands and brushing against your legs. Lifting your hand you hesitantly brush your hand over Soap’s head, much like you would a dog, it seemed like he had a ‘mohawk’ even in wolf form. Gaz just sat next to you leaning against you.

“Love,” Price grabbed your attention as he spoke. “Now they can just do a regular wolf form, however, there is another form which I’ll show you now…”

Price stepped a few steps back before he shifted, it was an interesting mix of human and wolf, it vaguely reminded you of a furry but more wolf-like. He could stand on his back legs but also could easily run on all fours, then he shifted all the way to a wolf form.

Clasping your hand over your mouth you look at them in awe. You pinched yourself to make sure this wasn’t some insane dream. Maybe they were right?

Ghost clasped a hand over your shoulder, startling you from your awe. “Wanna try? It’ll feel good, ease that ache?”

You look at Ghost a bit confused on how he knew about the ache…

“I um, don’t know how to...” you look at Ghost curiously.

“I’ll help ya’ pup” sighing Ghost tightened his grip on you.

It was an odd feeling shifting, it was quite painful but it was over fast. You have a shocked look on your face looking between everyone. You huff once you realize that you're smaller than Soap, Ghost, and Price. You and Gaz are roughly the same size which eases the frustration quite a bit.

You walk around a bit getting used to walking on all fours. It felt odd and wrong- but also right? Feeling conflicted you look up at everyone else, Soap and Gaz are play wrestling, Ghost and Price are sunning themselves pressed up against each other.

It was clear the pack(?) was very close with one another. It made you feel oddly left out…sitting off to the side you watch the men-wolves? It was a really nice day out and for once in the past few decades you felt no pain. It was relaxing and so incredibly soothing. Resting your head on your paws you doze off, still quite exhausted from the past few days.

#call of duty #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz x reader #john price x reader #john price #captain john price #werewolves #werewold au #mw2

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hurriane23456 · 3 months ago

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Under the Wolf's Skin

Inside Zach Harper’s trailer, the small space buzzed with the sound of the movie set just beyond the walls. The stuntman sat on the edge of the narrow couch, fully suited in his werewolf costume. He rolled his ankle gingerly, testing the range of motion. The costume’s padded claws made it look like a menacing creature was flexing its paw, but behind the mask, Zach’s face was tense with discomfort.

Ethan stood by the door, watching his boss in silence. The costume was elaborate—dark grey fur streaked with black, muscles exaggerated by layers of foam padding, sharp claws extending from the gloves. The werewolf mask, with its snarling expression and glowing yellow eyes, completed the terrifying look. But Zach’s injury wasn’tsomething they’d planned for.

"I’m not gonna be able to do this, man," Zach finally said, breaking the silence. "I twisted my ankle coming out of the trailer. Not enough to sideline me, but enough that the flip off the building isn’t happening."

Ethan blinked, taking in the situation. "Wait, you mean…"

"You’re gonna have to wear it." Zach stood up, favoring his good ankle. "No one can know I’m hurt. We’ve got too much riding on this shot, and the crew’s already set. I need you to take my place. Now."

Ethan’s heart dropped. He had seen Zach putting on the gear earlier that day, piece by piece, transforming into the fierce werewolf. A part of Ethan had wondered then what it would feel like—what it would be like to step into that monstrous costume..

Zach looked at him steadily. "You’ve seen me do it enough times. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you could. But we’ve got to move fast. We’ll switch here, in the trailer."

Ethan exhaled deeply and nodded. There was no way out. He’d have to suit up. Ethan realized what this meant—he was about to slide into gear that Zach had been sweating in all day.

First, though, Ethan had to get out of his own clothes. As nonchalantly as possible, he pulled off his baseball cap, tossing it onto the counter. Then came his work polo, neatly tucked into his dress pants. Each item of clothing landed in a pile until he stood there in just his undershirt and boxers.

“Your turn,” Ethan said, his voice even.

Zach sighed as he removed the werewolf mask. The wet, sticky sound as it came off made Ethan cringe outwardly, but inside, he was wondering what it would feel like to wear. As Zach peeled off the costume next, Ethan's eyes flickered to the bodysuit—heavy with the day’s heat and effort. It was big, imposing, and everything about it screamed the physicality of the job.

Zach finally handed Ethan the first piece of gear, starting with the padded vest. It was still warm, slightly damp from Zach’s sweat, and though Ethan made a face as he pulled it over his shoulders, inside, he felt an odd thrill. The vest fit snugly, and with every strap he fastened, the reality of stepping into Zach’s shoes hit him—literally. The elbow and knee pads came next, and each one snapped into place with a satisfying click. Every layer made him feel more like the werewolf he was about to become, but he had to hide his excitement behind a mask of professionalism.

“How’s it feel?” Zach asked, watching Ethan as he fastened the gear.

“Warm,” Ethan muttered, keeping his tone light. “Definitely feels like a workout.”

In truth, he was buzzing with anticipation. The weight of the gear, the way it pressed into his body, made him feel more connected to the character than he expected. Finally, the costume itself came into play. Zach handed him the fur-covered suit, still slightly damp, and Ethan hesitated, trying to keep his enthusiasm in check.

Sliding into the werewolf costume, Ethan felt the weight settle on his shoulders, and it felt even better than he imagined. The bulk of it made him feel powerful, like a different person entirely. He zipped it up, hiding his expression behind the matted fur as he adjusted to the feel of it against his skin. The padding, the warmth, the heaviness—it all felt strangely satisfying.

Finally, Zach handed him the mask. It was drenched from earlier, but Ethan barely cared. He played it off with a groan, “Oh man, this thing’s soaked.”

But inside, he was buzzing. He slid it over his head, the foam padding clinging to his skin. The transformation was complete. Ethan flexed his fingers inside the massive clawed gloves and stood up straight, fully immersed in the role, even though he acted like he was doing a favor.

Meanwhile, Zach, left in just his boxers, sighed and glanced at Ethan’s clothes. “Guess I’m stuck with these.” He grabbed the polo and pants, grumbling as he put them on, though secretly, there was something amusing about it. The polo was snug, and the dress pants were a little too neat for his usual style, but as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he didn’t mind as much as he pretended.

“Man, I look like such a dork,” Zach said, tugging at the collar. He couldn’t help but smirk slightly, secretly enjoying how the clothes felt. “I’m blaming you if I trip in these shoes.”

Ethan, now fully suited in the werewolf costume, just chuckled, trying to keep his cool. “You’ll survive.”

But inside, he was thrilled. He had always wondered what it would feel like to step into Zach’s world, and now, fully suited and padded up, he couldn’t wait to hit the set and live out his secret excitement.

With a final nod, Ethan followed Zach’s lead and stepped out of the trailer. The bustling set was just ahead, and no one gave a second glance to the werewolf figure walking toward the rooftop. In the eyes of the crew, it was just another day for Zach, ready to execute another flawless stunt.

But under the layers of fur and padding, Ethan could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him—literally and figuratively. The heat inside the suit was overwhelming, and the gear still radiated with Zach’s warmth. His breath echoed inside the mask as he approached the set, nerves jangling beneath the werewolf exterior.

The director shouted for action. Ethan took his place at the edge of the rooftop, the wire attached to his harness. His hands, hidden inside the massive clawed gloves, flexed involuntarily. He could feel the ground shift beneath him as he got into position, his body tensing for the leap.

"Action!" came the call.

Ethan ran forward, the heavy paws of the costume thudding against the roof. With each step, the protective padding reminded him he was safe. He reached the edge, flung his arms wide in a terrifying lunge, and leaped. For a moment, he was airborne, the wire pulling taut as it guided his body into a perfect backflip.

Time slowed as he twisted in mid-air, the weight of the suit helping him complete the flip. He tucked his knees in just as Zach had taught him, then unfurled his arms and legs, bracing for the landing. The thick, padded feet of the werewolf costume hit the ground solidly, absorbing the shock of the impact.

He staggered slightly, but recovered in time to let out a fierce growl, throwing his arms wide as the werewolf. The crew applauded, none the wiser that it wasn’t Zach beneath the mask.

As Ethan stepped off the set, his heart still racing, Zach was waiting nearby, a proud smile on his face. "You pulled it off," Zach said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Not a single person knew."

Ethan pulled off the mask, gulping fresh air as sweat dripped down his face. "Yeah, but next time, I’m getting my own gear."

#male body suit #male costume switch #male bodysuit #malebodyswap #body switch #male transformation

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srirax619 · 3 months ago

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Can't stop thinking about during Weirdmageddon:

Stan with his brass knuckles and a barbed wire covered baseball bat looking around for survivors and seeing a scared and crying Pacifica. She's panicked and covered in dirt and possibly blood, trying to shelter in some debris.

He stands tall and walks as if it's a normal day, knowing the weird things should be more afraid of him than he is of them. He hears her gasping pants in her panic, walks over and calls out. "Hey, somebody there?" She claps a hand over her mouth and tries to be even smaller. The only thing he can see is a tiny amount of blonde hair. "If you need help, I can," he offers.

He approaches slowly and she sees his fez. She immediately yelps and jumps out, trying to get to her feet, disregarding grace. He sees who it is, "You're the Northwest kid, right?" She runs over to him and stops short of hugging him. She doesn't really know him, but she knows that Dipper and Mabel trusted him. She decides she will too. "Yea, that's me." She isn't sure what else to say. He gives her a small smile. "Where's your folks?" Her eyes dart around and then she stares at the ground. She knows. She doesn't want to say. He reaches out a hand for her to hold, his other hand leaning the bat against that shoulder. "c'mon, kiddo. Let's get you to the Shack."

She takes his hand and walks with him. At some point she asks "Are Mabel and Dipper there?" Stan gets stiff and his jaw sets. He doesn't say anything for a few beats. "Not yet. Not... Sure where they were when everything went..." She gets it. She is thinking of her father's face, when Bill rearranged it. She's thinking of their surroundings. She's thinking about how much worse it's gonna get. She's hoping the young twins have a plan. If anyone is gonna have a plan, it must be them, right?

"Did you get hurt? Have any injuries?" he asks. She just shakes her head. A scraped knee and elbow is nothing compared to what others have. They finally get to the Shack and there are others, the old crazy man, one of the Sheriff's, some of the other townsfolk, a few mythical creatures. Stan announces her arrival and offers her some food and water. Others look like they are nursing injuries and are equally miserable. Everyone here has lost people. The old crazy man eventually sits next to her and puts a hand on her shoulder. For the first time in a long time Pacifica knows she doesn't have to put on any fake air.

Stan turns away so no one can see his tears. He can't find his kids. He doesn't know how to. He picks his bat back up and heads to the door. He will find every kid he possibly can. He has to.

#gravity falls #stanley pines #weirdmageddon #pacifica northwest #grunkle stan #girl dad

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oh-stars · 10 months ago

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Doodles

Hurt

a Stobin Month 2024 prompt | 539 words | CW: off-screen injury | Rating: G

“Does this make me old now?”

Robin rolls her eyes as she sits down beside Steve. She sets her markers down in the crease of her thigh as she twists to face him on the couch. “You’re not old.”

“Me five years ago would never fumble this hard,” Steve huffs. He goes to cross his arms, but the big, bulky cast on his left hand stops him. He glares hard at it before offering it back to Robin.

She hums a thankful noise and uncaps the first marker.

“Just no dicks, please,” Steve sighs, leaning his head back. “I cannot go to work with dicks on my arm.”

“Who do you think I am? Eddie?” Robin rolls her eyes again . “I would never draw a dick on your arm.” Boobies, however, are a different story. She makes them small and at the top part of his cast where it’s most likely going to be obscured by his shirts and jackets.

Steve pouts. “I just cannot believe I fell so hard I broke my arm during a game with a bunch of old men.”

“Aren’t they all under forty?”

“Yeah, but this,” he gestures to the cast, “proves that I, the youngest of the group, is old and therefore, so are they.”

“Come back to me when you get your first gray hair, then we can talk.”

“Why would you put that on me? Do you want me to die young? Jesus Christ, Robs,” Steve practically screeches, running his free hand through his hair.

She just smiles and starts drawing little flowers randomly on the plaster, trading out colors every now and then. He got a bright neon green, so the darker colors are really popping against the plaster.

For about thirty minutes, Steve just watches the ceiling fan as she doodles on his arm. She’s not leaving room for anyone else to sign, and maybe that’s selfish but Steve’s hers so she’ll do as she pleases, thank you.

Robin looks down at the mostly covered work and sighs. She decides to leave two openings for Dustin and Eddie to sign – the only two of the party who live in Chicago with them right now – but covers the rest. If she left any more openings, Eddie would doodle dicks and nerd shit while Dustin would use Steve’s arm to write equations or something. At least she’s drawing stuff he actually likes.

There’s baseballs and basketballs (which she realizes may be a sore subject right now, so she put those where they were least visible) among the flowers and little music notes sprinkled in. She even drew a bottle of hairspray in the crease of his elbow. There’s a symbol for every job they’ve worked together: an icecream cone for Scoops Ahoy, a VHS tape for Family Video, a book for that bookstore they love, coffee mug from the brief time they tried to be baristas, a donut from the bakery that Steve still works at full-time and Robin helps out on the weekends, a pawprint for the pet store Robin convinced him to try, and a bone for the museum where Robin was a tour guide (and now does research at full-time) and Steve worked in the gift shop.

And in big letters, going down his arm, she’s signed, “I love you dingus ❤ Robin.”

“How’s that look?”

Steve looks over it with a fond smile, the first since he reluctantly called her from the gym this morning. “It’s perfect.”

Thank you @lady-lostmind for beta reading!

Ao3 Link

#ohstars fic #steve harrington #stranger things #robin buckley #stobin month 2024 #ohstars posting challenge #platonic soulmates stobin #platonic stobin #stobin

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abarbaricyalp · 8 months ago

Note

For the Sambucky romance asks, I'd love to see your take on, "🚪 Roommates"!

Roommates is one of my favorite tropes for them! 😌 Keep an eye out for extra scenes attached to this on AO3 soon 👀

Bucky had to assume Sam was always wondering what he'd done to get stuck with a shitty roommate situation. He knew Sam had other friends on the team and that no one wanted to share a hotel room with the major leaguer who'd been sent back down to the organization’s minor league team for injury recovery. Baseball players were superstitious. Bucky's impending firing was as good as contagious to them. With such a road-game heavy line-up, he and Sam had spent more than enough time for Sam to catch whatever was tailing Bucky.

Still, he liked to think he'd made it up to Sam a few dozen times over by now, two months into the season.

He let Sam take his left arm from his chest, tucking his right under his head as he turned a little and watched Sam trace the scars from his latest rounds of surgery. One long, thin one up his forearm, the deeper circular one around his elbow, the thin one up his bicep, and then the circle around his shoulder. Like an artist had sketched out the bare-bones beginning of a human body on his. Then a cruel woodworker had gone in and twisted all of his inner workings until he was almost a puppet back on its strings again.

But with Sam's warm hands on him, he didn't much care about the surgeries or their impossible recoveries. "You thinkin' 'bout anything specific?" he asked.

"I can feel my heartbeat in the hickey you put on my throat," Sam answered, then frowned and ticked his head to the side a little. "That's not what I meant to say. That's just what I was actually thinking in the moment."

Bucky laughed, freed his hand, and touched one of the barely there bruises. Mostly just irritation marks on Sam's skin. "So what were you really thinkin’ about?"

Sam shrugged. "The game mostly. The guys out at dinner right now. Sitting here doing this while we waited for appetizers." His fingers kept tracing up and down the scar on Bucky's forearm.

During games, Bucky wore a compression sleeve. It was about impossible to hide from everyone else in the locker room, but he usually kept the evidence of his surgeries out of everyone's eyesight otherwise. His compression sleeve during the games, a jacket at all other times. He couldn’t bear people staring, or the non-stop game coverage about his injury. The less they saw, they less they reacted.

Sam had been the first one to really see all of the scars, on virtue of them practically living together now. Sam was something of a hot-shot, as far as Bucky was concerned. Young and ready to prove himself without a lot of high level gameplay behind him. He'd played one year of college ball, then tried for a walk-on tryout with their major league affiliation. By some miracle, someone took notice of him and stuck him on the minor league team to grow a little. He'd only been around for a season and a half--and Bucky hadn't been around for a bit of it thanks to his surgery--but he was still hungry and eager.

Bucky had expected some kind of revulsion from the kid. Bucky would've been freaked out at his age. Marks like these usually spelled the end of the road for pitchers like Bucky. Superstitions. But Sam had just scoffed a little and told Bucky to use Vitamin E oil instead of just letting them get dried out. Then again, Sam wasn't a pitcher, so there was that at least.

Bucky liked laying in bed with Sam. He was warm and real and he always smelled good, even after a game when Bucky hadn't let him back into the shower yet. He leaned over to press his nose against Sam's temple and heard Sam snicker and then sigh below him.

"You're so weird, Barnes," he said softly. He finished trailing his fingers up Bucky's arm, across his shoulder, and into his hair. He guided Bucky back against the bed and turned over him, settling his weight against Bucky's body as he buried his face in Bucky's neck. "Why do I even put up with you?"

"I dunno," Bucky said. "'Cause you think sleepin' with me'll get you a fast track to the majors?" he suggested sarcastically.

Sam hummed an 'mhm' against the soft skin of the bottom of his jaw.

"'Cause you got the shit travel buddy assignment and can't argue about it?" Bucky added as Sam started to work a bruise to the surface of Bucky's skin.

Sam nodded and pressed his tongue against the non-mark before moving back to his neck so he could trace a dried line of sweat as it snaked from the back of Bucky's ear to his shoulder.

"'Cause I'm super hot and a really good lay?" he finished.

Sam groaned exaggeratedly and hugged his arms around Bucky's waist, going boneless and drawing a breathless groan from Bucky at the sudden extra weight. "That's probably a lot of it," he admitted. "Everything else started it, but that one keeps you around," he admitted. Bucky could feel Sam's grin against his skin and it was the best feeling in the world.

Bucky gently brushed his fingers over the short crop of Sam's hair idly and let Sam trace nonsense patterns over his ribs. "You think about holding my hand at dinner?" he eventually couldn't help but tease.

"Nope," Sam lied against his shoulder. "The moment passed."

Bucky laughed quietly and pulled Sam's hand away from his chest when he got too close to his nipples and could really get to be a tease. He twined their fingers together and examined their hands quite seriously in the dim light of the hotel lamps. The first serendipitous thing about this roommate assignment was that they both preferred the soft light of lamps to the overhead light. Should've known it was fate, Bucky figured. Superstitions and all that.

Sam shifted around so he was laying beside Bucky again, looking up at their hands too. "We should really head out to dinner," he said as he brushed his thumb over the back of Bucky's hand.

"Yeah," Bucky agreed. "I'm s'posed to be makin' friends."

"Ha," Sam huffed. Turned his face against Bucky's so now it was his nose pressed to Bucky's cheek. "What happened to 'I'm only gonna be here long enough to recover. I don't needa know anyone's names,'" he teased in a rough approximation of Bucky's surly pout.

"Yeah, well, it's not so bad down here," he admitted, turning so their noses were pressed together now. "Just takes one good roommate to change my mind, I guess."

Sam rolled his eyes. It was a move that Bucky largely missed being so close to each other like this, features already a blur. "We should shower before we go to dinner."

"We should absolutely shower," Bucky agreed. He brought his hand up to cup Sam's face, kissed him deeply until Sam opened up beneath him and went pliant.

Dinner was the last thing on his mind.

#sambucky #bucky barnes #sam wilson #captain america #sambucky fanfic #the falcon and the winter soldier #writing #i answer things

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steddieunderdogfics · 9 months ago

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rounding third, sliding home. by througheden

@thefreakandthehair

Rating: Explicit

68,869 words, 12/12 chapters

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Tags: Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Alternate Universe - Baseball, Baseball Player Steve Harrington, Massage Therapist Eddie Munson, POV Alternating, Sports-Typical Injuries, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Bisexual Eddie Munson, Lesbian Robin Buckley, Lesbian Chrissy Cunningham, mall fire, (steve has a lot of scars from the aforementioned mall fire), Getting Together, sort of a slow burn but not really?, Mutual Pining, Casual Recreational Marijuana and Alcohol Use, Idiots in Love, SMUT TAGS:, Blowjobs, Face-Fucking, (it's light), Dry Humping, Sex on a Roof, holding hands during sex, Anal Sex, (more to be added as needed), Steddie Big Bang 2023 (Stranger Things), Podfic Welcome, art included, Demisexual Steve Harrington, (if you squint), Happy ending guaranteed!, Good Friend Tommy Hagan

Summary:

“Well, they can still win, right? There’s a lot of time left. I think?” “That’s rule number one, Ed,” Steve nods and stares at the screen, focused and distant— the kind of stare that tells Eddie he’s not talking about just the game. “Always assume the game you’re planning can be won. If you go into it thinking that losing is a possibility, then you’re gonna lose. Even if you’ve gotta rewrite the rules of the game yourself, you gotta convince yourself you can win.” The commentator seems to respond to Steve directly. “And that’s three strikes for Tommy Hagan for the fourth at-bat in a row. If this Dodgers team has a prayer of making the playoffs, it rests solely on Steve Harrington making it back in time.” Eddie feels Steve squeeze his hand tighter. Or, Professional Baseball Shortstop Steve Harrington injures his UCL and returns home to Indiana for treatment. Cue massage therapist Eddie Munson whose tender, practiced touch heals much more than Steve's elbow.

Thanks for the rec! This recommendation is apart of our Writer's Wednesday! All of the recs today are written by @thefreakandthehair. Want to nominate an author? Fill out this form!

You can submit fic recs to our asks or the submission box!

#writer's spotlight #steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #Sports AU #no upside down #Mutual Pining

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multifacetic · 2 months ago

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afternoon, everyone! or morning, evening, depending on wherever you are on beyonce’s green earth. please call me anwar (not hadid, s/th, est), and i bring to you ansong’s favorite yuppie, nagano shunsuke, who is also not beating the unc allegations. under the cut is a surplus of biographical information and as always, feel free to like and i’ll contact you! 🤞

alrighttttyyy so some bg information: nagano shunsuke’s a fourth gen zainichi born korean from japan’s kansai region! meaning that the catalyst to rightfully blame was jp’s colonial occupation of the korean peninsula which drove his familial predecessors to migrate forcefully as laborers. i’d say that shun’s great grandparents on his father’s side were 1st gen migrants but they didn’t live long enough for him to know them growing up so…… in seo yeongju we trust (dearest halmeoni)

as a result of worker’s + economic exploitation and various social matters concerning the zainichi korean community in japan, shun basically grew up poor. lower class to lower middle (on a good year). it was very difficult to move up in one’s career due to ethnic discrimination and the work environment was often shitty and hazardous. so that paired with his father’s alcoholism (likely a physically + emotionally abusive father who cheated on his wife Btw) which stemmed from the fragility/stress/turmoil of his maintenance mechanic job including rearing a family with a woman he no longer loves because she’s not attractive to him after bearing his children is… uh.. Something.

and of course to make matters worse, after ww2, the japanese gov snatched jp citizenships from the zainichi community and made them foreigners/aliens to the country and later as stateless individuals (so anywhere from 1947-52) :-) imagine the stress shun’s fam had and Now they’ve been declared as 100000% displaced peoples. the naganos were outed after years of quietly assimilating with the japanese gov outing them alien registration statuses which made life even harder. so it’s safe to say that shun’s developmental growth lacked as he was often singled out, left behind, or neglected as a minority child growing up and slowly began to resent his own identity

seo yeongju, shun’s grandma dies and that shit hurt him so much ‘cause she was basically his mother and performed most of the emotional support if not childrearing because his actual mother is too occupied with trying to save her loveless marriage. yeongju is p important to him in that maternal aspect, but also she migrated from seosan, korean peninsula to shikoku as a young girl so again, more nagano family ancestral lore

but ofc things end up looking somewhat positive when shun gets into baseball mostly to avoid his abusive father at home lol being in the same room with that man sent him into a deep ballistic rage that no kid should be subjected but Anyways. pops saw potential with son so he began training with shun and their bond.. sort of.. got better and closer between father and son. wallahi not that playing fucking baseball is gonna answer the question of abuse but there’s that

shun ends up enrolling to osaka university on an athlete’s scholarship because otherwise his ass has no money to go to school, neither does his family and even now higher education for most zainichi koreans is basically almost unthought of???? so YEAHH shunsuke goes to school majoring in finance and economics but who gives a damn bc he’s trying to make it in the major league with drafts coming up. unfortunately tho bro gets a Really Bad elbow injury that he got 2 surgical operations for so… he’s cooked. he’s done for. just put the fries in the bag lil bro

haha jus’ kidding but yeah his dream is fucking cooked but it’s fine (not really) / shun ends up becoming his family’s 1st gen university graduate which is a big fucking deal because zainichi koreans were typically denied access to education. but even after graduation, shun had a hard time getting a job due to stigmatized discrimination, competitive job markets/outlets, etc.. and his official transcripts (lmao in case of hiring managers of companies decided to request them but they wouldn’t ask japanese applicants now would they?) were ass because he was greatly depressed working thru 3rd-4th yr of uni after the shitty injury. it seems that he just can’t win: works 7488548 crappy jobs and kept the restaurant dishwashing + hotel receptionist gig for a minute until…….. mizuho trust & bank gives him a call back for an interview!! and he gets an entry level investment banker job!! WE ALL CHEERED

life is looking a lot more positively: got a great paying job, the economy was flourishing in 80s japan, his (then) girlfriend and him are looking to move in together—it seems like nagano shunsuke is on top of the world fr. but allah’s timing is always strange and unrelenting as shunsuke unfortunately dies in a plane crash in fall of ‘88 with his gf on the way to yeosu for the week of chuseok. it was the first time traveling outside the country, let alone the first time visiting the homeland

so what’s next?

well 4 starters: he remembers absolutely nothing in regards to his past life. he’s your friendly bilingual financial advisor that lives on floor 8/unit 6. he lives a comfortable life of routine and prioritizes balance in his life. he’d look at you crazy if you told him his entire life story which is ^ above when he was alive. but surely…. something has got to be explained here. as in what’s going on and is he fr dead or like. not. u know

personality

i did mention that shun’s rather friendly! is always looking giving people and things a benefit of a doubt but once he’s been proven otherwise then yeah, there’s no going back. a bit of a yapper from time to time but it needs to be with the right person, otherwise why would he be yapping to someone who’s just gonna give him the lead paint stare….. also a lot more sensitive than he lets on (read: pisces moon) and is awfully in tune to his emotions + sensitivity but that’s none of your business. quick to get pissed off if something rubs him the wrong way too??? as in don’t underestimate his kindness and generosity among other things that’ll piss him off for reasons idk yet?? all crass and smart ass behavior, loves inoffensive banter, sometimes is too quick to say what’s on his mind before giving it a Good Thought (read: gemini sun, gemini mercury), u know the vibessss

connections

ok my bad for not thinking of relationship plots but i do have this wanted connection here in case if somebody’s looking to take up a 2nd/3rd chara. otherwise i love brainstorming!

#ansong:intro #i think i covered errythang.. if not i’ll likely yap away on d*scord

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infoblogify · 1 year ago

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Preventing and Treating Baseball Elbow Injuries in Freehold

The crack of the bat, the rush of adrenaline, and the thrill of the game – baseball holds a special place in the hearts of many. But along with the excitement comes the risk of injuries, and one of the most common among baseball players is the dreaded "Baseball Elbow." As the name suggests, this injury can strike both pitchers and fielders, potentially sidelining them for weeks or even months. Fortunately, Freehold athletes have a trusted ally in their journey to recovery: HF Rehab NJ. With a dedicated focus on preventing and treating baseball elbow injuries Freehold, HF Rehab NJ is poised to keep players in the game and thriving.

Understanding Baseball Elbow: A Common Woe

Baseball elbow, scientifically known as medial epicondylitis or "golfer's elbow," is an overuse injury that primarily affects the inner side of the elbow. While it's commonly associated with golfers due to the swinging motion, baseball players – particularly pitchers and those who repeatedly throw or grip the ball – are also at risk.

This injury occurs when the tendons that attach to the bony bump on the inside of the elbow become inflamed and irritated. Over time, the repetitive stress of throwing or swinging can lead to microtears in the tendons, causing pain, stiffness, and reduced mobility.

Preventing Baseball Elbow: A Proactive Approach

Prevention is often the best strategy when it comes to injuries, and HF Rehab NJ understands the importance of a proactive approach. Here are some key measures to help prevent baseball elbow:

Proper Warm-up: Before hitting the field, players should engage in a thorough warm-up routine that includes stretching and light exercises. This helps increase blood flow to the muscles and prepares the body for the demands of the game.

Strength and Conditioning: Building strength in the muscles that support the elbow joint can help reduce the strain on the tendons. HF Rehab NJ offers personalized strength and conditioning programs tailored to each player's needs.

Proper Technique: Coaches and trainers play a vital role in teaching players proper throwing and swinging techniques. Maintaining good form can significantly reduce the risk of injury.

Rest and Recovery: Overuse is a leading cause of baseball elbow. Players should prioritize rest days and avoid excessive throwing or swinging to allow the muscles and tendons to recover.

Regular Check-ins: Regular assessments and screenings at HF Rehab NJ can identify early warning signs of potential issues. Catching problems early allows for timely interventions to prevent injuries from worsening.

Treating Baseball Elbow: The Road to Recovery

For those already grappling with baseball elbow, HF Rehab NJ offers a comprehensive approach to treatment and recovery:

Physical Therapy: HF Rehab NJ's skilled physical therapists design personalized rehabilitation programs to address the specific needs of each player. These programs focus on strengthening the affected muscles, improving mobility, and reducing pain.

Modalities and Techniques: From manual therapy and joint mobilization to therapeutic exercises and electrical stimulation, HF Rehab NJ employs a range of cutting-edge techniques to accelerate healing and restore function.

Pain Management: Effective pain management is crucial during the recovery process. HF Rehab NJ utilizes a combination of techniques to alleviate pain and inflammation, allowing players to focus on their rehabilitation.

Gradual Return to Play: Returning to the field after an injury requires careful planning. HF Rehab NJ guides players through a structured return-to-play program, ensuring they're ready to perform at their best while minimizing the risk of re-injury.

Education and Lifestyle Modification: Empowering players with knowledge about injury prevention and proper self-care techniques is a cornerstone of HF Rehab NJ's approach. Lifestyle modifications and ergonomic adjustments can make a significant difference in preventing future injuries.

A Stronger, Healthier Future on the Diamond

In Freehold, baseball isn't just a sport; it's a way of life. HF Rehab NJ recognizes the passion and dedication that players bring to the game, and they're committed to being a supportive partner in their journey to recovery and success. With a focus on prevention, treatment, and education, HF Rehab NJ is rewriting the playbook on baseball elbow injuries Freehold. By ensuring that athletes have the tools they need to stay in peak condition, HF Rehab NJ is shaping a stronger, healthier future on the diamond for players in Freehold and beyond.

#Baseball Elbow Injuries #Freehold #HF Rehab NJ #pain management

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ardent-heretic · 4 months ago

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So I was at the Mall for mall type shit.

There was a demonstration so I had to stop. A Traveling Martial Arts team was there in the hopes of wooing people to join them. I have never seen this in person before.

There were teens breaking multiple boards with strikes. Instructors had stacked numerous things around the area to break. Boards, paver stones were exploding everywhere. The entire group went one at a time running, jumped and kicked off a wall, spun, and split a board. There were choreographed routines using weapons and a fan. At one point 6 children jumped and curb stomped 6 boards to break them. This whole show was very entertaining.

Then they brought out the big guy. This guy was 6’6-6’10. Burly motherfucker. There were paver stones stacked. I don’t know the terminology so forgive me. He did a Karate chop strike that broke multiple pavers. Then he walked over and used his shin to strike and break a baseball bat. I was right there, it was not precut to make it easier. Then another instructor held a bat at a 45 degree angle. One end against his thigh. The other end pointing away. Gigantor kicked it and broke it. Hella impressive since person holding it wasn’t motionless so some force was lost.

Then came his final strike. Stack of paver stones as high as my collarbones. A shit ton of pieces. He psyched himself up and BAM. Elbow strike downward broke all but the last two. He was disappointed he didn’t break them all. With his bare foot he kicked the debris clear to the final two. Then he stomped them like balsa wood. I didn’t count how many pavers he broke with the elbow strike. But it was over 10. Each one like 4 inches thick with spacers leaving about a centimeter between each stone.

I don’t know how much force that was. But I do know if I tried I would have a cast and most of them would be intact. It was a crushing blow.

Now I know they travel through the state, and they practice these specific moves consistently. But this was still impressive as hell.

None of it was fake. I stuck around after and noticed 4 were nursing injuries. Two bleeding, one hurt forearm, and one had a foot injury.

It was a fantastic display. If I wasn’t an old fucker,that was dying I might look into doing this. Their home is about 20 minutes from my house. Their YouTube channel has posts back until 2009. There were none of Gigantor. If they post him I will share the video.

I might eyeball their social media and if they do another show, bring Spawn and Spawnette and see if they are interested.

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steddie-fanfic-recs · 1 year ago

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rounding third, sliding home.

by througheden

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Chrissy Cunningham, Corroded Coffin (Stranger Things), Jim "Chief" Hopper, Tommy Hagan Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Alternate Universe - Baseball, Baseball Player Steve Harrington, Massage Therapist Eddie Munson, POV Alternating, Sports-Typical Injuries, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Bisexual Eddie Munson, Lesbian Robin Buckley, Lesbian Chrissy Cunningham, mall fire, (steve has a lot of scars from the aforementioned mall fire), Getting Together, sort of a slow burn but not really?, Mutual Pining, Casual Recreational Marijuana and Alcohol Use, Idiots in Love, SMUT TAGS:, Blowjobs, Face-Fucking, (it's light), Dry Humping, Sex on a Roof, holding hands during sex, Anal Sex, (more to be added as needed), Steddie Big Bang 2023 (Stranger Things), Podfic Welcome, art included, Demisexual Steve Harrington, (if you squint), Happy ending guaranteed!, Good Friend Tommy Hagan Words: 68,869 Chapters: 12/12

Summary

#steddie #steddie fic rec #multi-chaptered #50-100k #au no upside down #getting together #mutual pining

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goose-duck · 5 months ago

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♡Our World♡ (Pt. 5)

Killer x Reader

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Killer from One Piece x reader

Killer is in our world and meets you!! :D

Pt 4 Pt 6

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Y/N expirencing health problems and Killer helps

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•Physical/mental health problems

•Self harm/Suicide talked about

•Slight NSFW but not too explicit

•Comfort!!

He'd been living with me for a few days now and it was starting to feel normal, like he was always meant to be in my life. Thinking about it makes my anxieties spike..I have no idea how long he'll he here or if there will even be a warning before he leaves. I sigh to myself, trying to find something else to think about. Killer looks over hearing my sigh and gives me a worried and confused look. I look over at him and make a small gesture indicating that I'm okay. He nods at me and returns to watching the TV. We're both in the den, he's got his elbow rested on the arm of the couch and I'm leaning against his shoulder. We're watching a cooking show, he seems to like it a lot. I'm happy he's enjoying himself here.

While watching the TV I notice my vision blurring a bit. I squint my eyes a bit then try blinking quickly, trying to make my vision come back but my eyes start watering. Lucky everything is subtle enough Killer hasn't noticed. He's seen me struggle with my health already but I try to avoid making it something he needs to worry about. I start to feel dizzy and I can't take it anymore, groaning and covering my eyes with my hands as the headache sets in. Killer looks over at me, “what's wrong?” He asks sternly, making sure he has my attention and I can lie my way out of this. “It's fine…just a headache” I whine out through my pain knowing it's not just a headache. “It's obviously not okay. What's going on? Is there anything I can do?” He asks softly, putting a hand on my thigh. “Turn the TV off.” I say while groaning, it sounds a lot more aggressive than I'd intended but it gets the point across.

Killer quickly turns the TV off, flicking the lights off too and closing the curtains quickly figuring out I'm having a migraine or something along those lines. My body relaxes a little as the room gets darker and quieter, however I still keep my hands Iver my eyes, putting pressure on the point of pain just above my left eyebrow. I'd been hit with a baseball a few years ago and my doctor refuses to take it seriously so the problem only got worse until I got a new doctor who informed me my brain was damaged and my skull had been cracked and has since healed wrong. It's miserable, the pain I get sometimes. I haven't told many people, I feel dramatic when this happens and all I can do is whine and cry and wait for it to end. I feel so pathetic.

Killer kneels in front of me putting his hands on my thighs and rubbing them a little, he whispers, “please tell me what's wrong. Is it a migraine..?” He sounds more distressed than I'd expected. I've had many people be a little concerned but ultimately move on when I brush it off but he's persistent. I let out a strained sigh, “I don't know…it's…nerve damage around there…” I weakly point just above my left eyebrow where the pain is centered at. Killer takes my shaky hands in his own to move them out of the way so he can get a better look at my forehead. He doesn't see anything, it's not a visible injury, not anymore. This seems to worry him more, it's not something he can fix easily if it's internal. He lets out an irritated sigh as he realizes there's not much he can do. “What can I do help?” He concedes, not knowing how to help me. I'll be the first to admit I'd never learned how to properly deal with this, usually opting to just suffer in silence until it goes away. I whine at him, in to much pain to really use my words anymore, pulling my hands away from his and putting pressure back on my forehead.

Killer quickly goes to stop me, understanding why I'm doing this but knowing it's not really fixing anything. He gently grabs my hands again, trying to be gentle as he pulls them away from my forehead but I put up a fight. He continues trying to be gentle but is getting annoyed with me and end up just roughly pulling my hands away from head causing me to let out a gasp. He panics a little and rubs my hands, “Are you okay? I didn't hurt you did I? Did I hurt you? Y/N?” I groan at him in slight annoyance but nod to tell him I'm fine, I just wasnt expecting him to do that. He lets out a shaky breath, relived he didn't make things worse. I sit there shaking in pain and squirming as he holds my hands on my lap. He whispers comforting words to me, occasionally kissing my hands.

Soon it's over and I calm down, breathing a bit heavily from the intense pain i was in. I feel the wetness around my eyes, I must have started crying at some point. Killer looks up at my exhausted form once I sto writhing around. He gently sets a hand on my cheek and wipes some of my tears, giving me a soft look, “you okay..?” He asks softly, still caressing my cheek. I lean into his touch and nod. He smiles at me a bit before looking down at my still shaky hands in my lap. He rubs the hand he's still holding, “Do you know what that was..?” “Some sort of nerve damage…untreated head injury…” he nods silently.

He moves his hand up my forearm a bit, holding it gently and pressing a kiss to the inner side. I'm a little shocked and confused, “what was that for?” I question the blonde. He just kisses my forearm a few more times not saying anything. I get progressively more confused before it hits me and I freeze up a bit. “Is…is it my scars..?” I ask hesitantly. He nods, still gently pressing kisses to my arm. I awkwardly hid my face in his hand still on my cheek, my face heating up as I'm embarrassed of my past actions towards myself. I kiss the palm of his hand before using my free hand to move his hand away from my face, rubbing it softly. “I don't do it anymore…so…don't worry about it…okay..?” I whisper to him as if someone else would hear me. He stops kissing my scars for a second and gives me a look. I quickly return the look, squinting at him quizzically, “don't belive me?” I ask with a snarky tone. He rolls his eyes at me, “Y/N…I did see your thighs in the tub earlier.” He says in an obvious tone. I shut my mouth immediately rembering he'd cleaned me earlier. “Ohhh…haha….right…..” I trail off, avoiding eye contact.

He glares at me like a disappointed mother before sighing and dropping his head, “Y/N…please…” he sounds so done with me and my playing off everything as normal. I make a strange face as I realize I've been caught with my problems, “uhhhhh…I probably won't stop, I'm not gonna lie to you.” He looks up, glaring at me again before relaxing his face again, “fine, I can't force you I guess…just…don't take it too far…” he asks me nervously, giving me a desperate look. I put a hand on his head and rub it a bit, much like what he does to comfort me sometimes. “I tried it once…it was such an embarrassing failure I don't think I could dare try again..” I admit softly to him, knowing it probably won't help much but it's the truth. He looks very concerned at the idea I've tried to end my life before but he trusts that I'm not lying about being too embarrassed to ever try again.

“Can you…uh..” he starts to ask me something before giving up, deciding it might not be worth asking. I already know what he wanted to ask, “you wanna see it…the scar from when I…uh…there's a scar…um…other arm…” I mumble out, I want him to see, I don't want to try to hide myself from him, that doesn't make this any less of a tough subject though. He turns his head to look at my other arm, holding it gently in his hand and brushing his fingers over the large scar. He does something I really should have been expecting from him by now but was still shocked by, he kisses the scar…the scar from when I'd tried to end myself…he kissed it like any other scar…like any other part of me. I feel myself tearing up again but manage to hold back from crying again. “why'd you do it..? If you're okay with telling me…” he mumbles against my scar.

I tell him why I did it, what pushed me to the point of finding now value in life, what was the final step to me wanting to fall off the earth. He pays close attention, nodding when I'm done, “I'm happy you failed…even if it's something you're embarrassed by…if you weren't here…I suppose I wouldn't know…but…I feel like I'd know something's wrong anyway.” his words are soft and kind, I think it's a bit odd to think he'd know I'm gone even without prior knowledge of my existence but I accept the sweet words anyway, happy I'm here to be with him now. “have you ever…” I whisper, not having it in me to finish my question. Killer shakes his head, “I haven't…but…I understand kinda…I have a friend who…um..he..” Killer’s breath gets shaky as he stops talking and pushes his face into my hand. I know from my own behaviour he's holding back tears. I pet his head, running my fingers through his soft hair, “it's okay if you wanna cry…if you don't though…I understand…I'll be here either way.” I quietly say to him. He nods into my hand, letting a few tears fall before they stop soon after.

Killer sits upright, his eyes red like mine from crying. He looks at me, his eyes looking sad. It my turn to comfort him now, giving him a soft smile. “I'll be here whenever you want me, okay..? I'm here for you…just ask…” I whisper to him. He looks down, seeming thoughtful, “you always say ‘want’ never ‘need’, is there a reason for that?” he asks me, curios to my specific wording. I answer him to the best of my ability, “if I'm wanted it's a choice to have me around, to have me help you…of I'm needed it doesn't exactly mean its a choice, it means I'm the best option and when I'm no longer usefull you'll leave me…” he nods in understanding, “well then…I want you in my life…things have been better since meeting you but I would have been fine without you…so, just know, I want you here, okay?” “I know you want me with you…you'd have left if you didn't…I want you in my life too.” he smiles at my reciprocation of his feelings. I smile back at him and hug him in teh slightly awkward position we're in for a hug. He hugs me back.

As Killer pulls away he holds my face in his hands, squishing my cheeks a bit and giving me a bright smile, it may not visibly be different from the one he can't remove from his face but it feels different, it's all in his beautiful blue eyes. It's love, that look, it's something I've never seen before, but I know what it's meant to be. In that moment I'm so tempted to lean in and kiss him but I hold myself back, afraid I'm wrong. He must see it on my face, this desperation to express my feelings, yet the hesitation, the fear of getting hurt. He doesn't move to kiss me either, he knows I need to do it myself or it'll never feel right to me.

He pulls his hands away from my face and stand up, patting me on the head and messing up my hair a little. He takes his earlier spot on yhe couch beside me and puts me in his lap. I let out a small shocked noise but relax against him. He holds me gently, a hand around my mid section and a hand on my thigh. I rest my hands on his, both on the hand on my stomach. I feel him kiss the back of my head before resting his chin on top of my head. I look up at him and stick my tongue out. He hesitates for a second before doing the same. My eyes widen as I notice a tongue piercing. He gives me a confused look before realizing what my shocked look is for. He chuckles, “like it?” my face turns red, I nod at him, “love it.” he smiles at me, squeezing my thigh and putting his head on my shoulding rather than my head. I look at him out of the corner of my eye and smile. He smiles back.

I turn the TV back on and we both sit like this for a while before I feel something on my neck. It's wet, squishy and has a metal bit…this this man licking me!? I feel my whole body heat up as I get flustered. He seems to notice I've noticed what he's doing and he chuckles against my neck making this feeling worse. I turn my head away from him knowing he'll know immediately from that stupid look on my face that I'm embarrassed. He nibbles my neck a little and I squeal. He laughs again, “look at me…” he teases. I look at him, my face giving away everything. He smirks at me, kissing my jaw before going back to watching the TV, playing innocent. I huff and poke his nose, “don't stop now, asshole..” I encourage him to continue, it felt nice, but strange, I'd never experienced this before…not in this way at least…it's nice when it's with someone you love. Love? Do I love him? Noooo…huh uh…this is..uh…fuck. I feel like I'm about to overheat as I realize my feelings fully. I'd known the feelings were there but I refused to acknowledge them…now I can't deny it…I'd just asked this man to continue is sweet assault on my neck.

He continues as I'd requested. He seems to know what he's doing, trying to find what'll make me happy. I do a lot of giggling, it's how I always react to these kinds of things, I'm not sure how else to express myself. He seems happy with the laughter coming from me as I enjoy myself. I know it's probably not the typical reaction to this, but it's how I show I'm enjoying myself. “you know, it's cute you laugh when feeling this sensation…it's so different, but it's so you..” he smiles against my neck, sticking his tongue out and running the ball of his tongue piercing against it gently. I find myself snickering at this, “I'm glad you like it haha!” I tear up a bit at the funny and pleasant feeling.

He holds my head gently, leaning it away from him so he can get at my neck a bit better. I let him do this, giggling more. I feel him bite me a few times and suck on my neck a bit, he'll definitely leave marks but at this point I don't mind. It's him, he could leave any mark on me and I'd be okay with it. He rubs the side of my head a little with his thumb and he holds my head away from him, it's sweet. He pulls away for a second, “tell me if I'm hurting you, okay?” I nod at him, he glares, “verbal answer.” he demands. “I'll tell you if I'm not okay with something.” I answer quickly, wanting him to continue. “Good.” he then goes back to my neck and I lean into his hand holding my head.

He starts to move down to my collar bones and as he nears my chest I tap his shoulder. He stops and looks up at me. I shake my head at him, signaling not to go any further down. He nods at me, “thanks for being gentle, but you don't have to be gentle, if I'm doing something you don't like you can yell at me to stop.” I give him a small nod and he pulls my hair I bit. I yelp, “what was that for!?” I yell at him. He does it again and I tear up, “Stop!!” I yell at him again, hitting his shoulder. He stops immediately, “good. I want you to do that if I do something you don't like. Understand?” I give him a shaky nod, “I understand…”

He sees the tears in my eyes and gently rubs my head, “sorry for that…I was just worried you might not do it… can I make it up to you?” I'm a bit shocked by the apology, not because it's him, but because people have done much worse without apology. “oh..uh…hm…” I think about how he can make it up to me that he pulled my hair like that. While I think he brushes some tears from my eyes, giving me a patient look. I put my hands on his cheeks and give him a determined look, “can I kiss you?” I ask with confidence that surprises myself. “is that how you'd like your apology?” he jokes with me. I snicker, “I'd want this anyway, but we can call it your apology.” he leans into my hold on his face a little, “I'll do something else for you after, I want this kiss as much as you.”

I get a little nervous shaking a bit…I close my eyes and sigh then open them with a more sure look on my face. I lean into him and just before I kiss him I stop. Looking him in the yes for any hint of doubt but I see none. He puts a hand on my cheek, signaling me to do what I desire. I nod and kiss him, my lips pressing against his. He kisses me back, softly. I quickly pull away, not really knowing what to do with everything i was feeling. He seems a little shocked I was so quick but let's out a small giggle and smiles at me, finding it cute, “good job.” he praises my terrible kiss. I give him a joking glare before letting go of his face and pushing my head into his chest embarrassed, “it was not!! You did great but I felt like I sucked!” he rubs my back a little, “was that your first kiss?” I shake my head, embarrassed I've done this before yet I kissed him like some kid who's just had their first kiss. He smiles at me realizing I probably kissed him like that because of the emotions behind it, like a kid having their first crush I was embarrassed and excited and overwhelmed with unfamiliar emotions. My kiss reflected every thought and feeling. Though Killer wishes the kiss could have been longer he's happy he got to kiss me how I felt was right in the moment.

I look at him with a dumb lovestruck look. He looks back at me, a loving look in his eyes, “you did great…that was perfect..” he whispers. “really..?” I mumble back, unsure if he's just being nice or if he really thinks I did well. He nods, “yeah, it was you.” My eyes widen at that, he liked it because it was me..? He follows up, “it was your emotions, that kiss, it was everything you felt in that moment.” I smile at him, “you're not disappointed?” he shakes his head, “if your kisses are always like that I'm okay with it. If your kisses change I'm okay with that too…I just want them to always be honest.” he kisses my forehead as he finishes off his sentence. I hide my face again, this time in the crook of his neck. He giggles at this action, finding it sweet that I get so flustered at his sweet words.

I see a great opertunity with this and decide to try to do what he'd done earlier. I awkwardly pick his neck which prompts him to giggle. I get even more embarrassed, “was it bad? I'm sorry-” he cuts me off, outright laughing a bit and reasuring me, “it's perfect, I just didn't expect you to do it.” he plays with my hair a bit, calming his laughing, “continue, it was great.” I feel him kiss the top of my head as I continue. Unlike my earlier laughter he’s doing his best to stifle some less family friendly sounds. I get embarrassed after a while and stop by kissing his collar bone and pulling away. I look up at his bright red face and giggle a bit, “looking good, Kill.” his face turns more red and he hides behind his hand. I laugh a bit more, “don't hide, it's cute!” I try to encourage him to look at me but he hides his ever reddening face more. I feel the heat on my face too, knowing I got him like this is a feeling I can't express.

I lay my head on his chest and relax against him. He looks down at me and wraps his arms around me, holding me close. He seems to calm down a little as he rests his head on top of mine once again. We stay like this, cuddling on the couch, the TV playing quietly in the background. It feels nice, like this is where I'm supposed to be. Maybe that's why I screwed up so long ago…so I could be here for this…so I could learn to be alive. So I could feel love. So we could meet. I'm so happy. Killer…I want to be live…I want to be alive…please be alive with me. I smile to myself, face buried in his chest, I'm safe and I'm alive..he's alive…we're safe. This is what it's like to be loved. I'm happy he's here. I'm happy I'm here.

“Killer?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“Does it matter?”

“If you don't wanna tell me that's okay.”

“Thanks.”

“You're welcome.”

“I'll stop…”

“Huh? Oh..good.”

“Mhm…”

“I'm happy you decided to…I'll be here if you want help.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“I'm here for you too.”

“huh?”

“If you want my help..with..anything.”

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome, Kill.”

“Love you…Y/N.”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

“I-...I love you too, Killer.”

#one piece #op killer #killer one piece #massacre soldier killer #one piece killer #killer x reader #one piece x reader

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yansimstorythatiwillnotworkon · 5 months ago

Text

#12 (1)

Tuesday

Part of Ayano wanted to test if Info-Chan was still open to favors, so she decided to do so under the guise of doing a task.

Yan-Chan: Can you find out why Lori is so adamant on beating up Frankie?

Info-Chan: Wellll…

Info-Chan: I could, but I’d still need payment.

Yan-Chan: In what form?

Info-Chan: I need Raibaru’s phone.

Info-Chan: Can you do it?

Yan-Chan: I’ll figure something out.

Ayano turns off her phone, but her gaze lingers on her reflection of the blank screen. That worked, it seemed. Info-Chan wasn’t willing to cut ties with Ayano, or at least not yet. That was good.

At the moment, she was in the locker rooms. Not under any sort of scheme, but to look at the bruise that Lori had left on her stomach. Or more precisely the upper abdomen. The gross mark Lori’s ‘shove’ had left on her body is what reminded Ayano about the Frankie situation in the first place.

A loud clear of the throat alerted Ayano that someone else was coming into the locker room. Tokuko walks in with her hand on her throat and her phone in her other hand. She nods and gives a dry ‘hey’ as she walks in and behind Ayano to reach her locker. She grabs some sort of bag and walks back over to Ayano with it in hand.

As she looks through it, her gaze wanders to the mirror, and Ayano’s clear bruise catches her attention. “Damn, girl–” Tokuko coughs into her arm and clears her throat before speaking again, “--what happened?” She asks, motioning to the bruise with her elbow.

“Uh, I just bumped into something.” Ayano shrugged, rubbing the spot where the bruise was left. It was worse during the past weekend, so she was glad that it’d dulled down a bit. “I got it a couple days ago. It’s gotten better, so there’s nothing to be concerned about.”

Tokuko lifted an eyebrow her way. “I think it’s concerning that it was worse than that. It looks as big as a baseball!” She claimed, although she was clearly being dramatic with that comparison.

Ayano shook her head dismissively, before deciding to get the conversation off of her injury. “What happened to you?” She asks. Tokuko had been clearing her throat even before the conversation, and despite her efforts, her voice hadn’t been as upbeat as she probably wanted it to be.

Tokuko huffs at her question, quickly popping some medicine into her mouth and using her hands to cup water from the sink and drink it quickly. “I honestly don’t know.” She says, clearing her throat a couple times as she puts her medicine away. “My throat’s been like this for the last two weeks, so I’ve been missing voice practice.”

After putting her medicine back in her locker, she comments. “Well, actually, it could be because my mother’s such a heavy smoker.” She sighs, shaking her head. “She says she can’t stop because it’s the best way to ‘relieve stress’ and… whatever.” She mumbles, pulling out her phone. She coughs into her arm and waves briefly to Ayano.

“I’m gonna go ask the nurse if she knows anything- ahem. Hope your bruise gets better, Aya.” Tokuko says half-heartedly, coughing a bit on her way out.

“Thanks..” Ayano watches as Tokuko leaves before buttoning her shirt back up. It was a bit hot today, so she decided against the jacket this time.

Now that Ayano had properly sticken a deal with Info-Chan and had checked on her injury again, she needed to find Raibaru. Considering how Raibaru was, she was likely just being a third party to Osana and Kyuji.

Unlike Ayano had thought, Raibaru was actually wandering around the halls on her own. She stayed around the club rooms, looking each of them down and chatting with the members if they happened to be nearby. When Ayano finally caught up to Raibaru, she was standing in front of the Martial Arts club.

Seeing Ayano approach, Raibaru smiled. “Hey, there, Ayano. How’s your day going?” She asks, smiling sweetly at the taller girl.

“About the same as every day, I suppose.” Ayano replies casually, placing a hand on her hip. “I was wondering where you were, actually. I didn’t see you with Osana and I was wondering what you were doing if not hanging around her.”

Raibaru chuckles lightly. “Well, I can’t spend all my time around her anymore.” She folds her arms with a light hum in thought. “You know, now that Osana has a… well, now that she’s taken interest in someone, I can’t really hog up all her space. I’d just be a bad third wheel at that point.” She rationalizes, mainly to herself.

Holding a hand up to the club room in front of her, Raibaru continues. “I figured that since Osana’s busier now, I should find something to do in my spare time. I’m sort of debating on joining a club, but…” Raibaru sighs. “I’m not sure… even if Osana’s busy now, I still feel kinda paranoid about not being around her.”

“Really?” Ayano tilts her head to the side. “Are you worried that Kyuji might do something? He seems like a good guy.” She comments, holding a hand up to her chin in thought.

Raibaru immediately puts her hands in front of her with a nervous expression. “Not at all! Sorry, I’m just a bit paranoid from an incident in middle school.” She shakes her head with a wry smile. “I don’t really want to go into detail but… that incident has carried up until now, unfortunately. I’m certain that I just need a way to distract myself, though.”

Ayano nods at Raibaru’s brief explanation. “I understand. I could help you out in some way if you want.” She offers. “We can talk about your likes and dislikes and rationalize which club might fit you, maybe.”

“Aw, would you really do that, Ayano?” Raibaru beams, folding her hands together with a grateful bow of the head. “That’s so sweet of you. I’d really appreciate it!” She says.

For what seemed like the hundredth time, Ayano was once again repeating the same club-visiting pattern. Starting with the cooking club, which could pass as being closed had Kenko not been seen inside. Ayano peeks in and knocks on the door of the dim club room.

Kenko lifts his head from the cabinets and stands up with a smile. “Hey, Ayano. Raibaru.” He nods to each of them, “I didn’t expect anyone to visit today. What can I do for you two?”

“I’m showing Raibaru around each club room.” Ayano explains, nodding to the shorter girl. Raibaru smiles and gives a small wave. “She’s thinking of joining a club but she’s still unsure about it at the moment.”

Kenko gives a brief smile and nods in an understanding manner. “I see. Have you ever baked or cooked anything before, Raibaru?” He starts off, placing the bowl in his hands on the counter. He closes the cabinet door and turns to fetch something from beneath the counter.

“Uh, no, not really..” Raibaru responds, raising a hand to her chin with a shy smile. “A lot of the meals I eat are cold and cut rather than cooked- like a salad. My mother usually makes hot meals for me. In fact, all I did was cut food for Ajia last week as well.”

“I see. Well, we’ll definitely..” Kenko pauses in thought. “...our function as the Cooking Club is to teach you how to cook and bake whatever is possible with the ingredients we have. At the end of the day it can just be a hobby, practice for a proper culinary school, or a job you have in mind.”

Crossing his arms, Kenko gives a small, sad smile. “I admit, as lovely as it would be to have you, our club’s, er…. state.. is a bit rocky at the moment. Realistically speaking, even if you were interested, we’d have to hold off on letting you join until after Shoku gets back in contact with us.”

Raibaru raises her hand up to her cheek with a frown. “Oh. Right, I understand.” She nods and allows a smile to spread across her face. “There’s always next time. I’ll check in some other time.” She responds kindly.

“Much appreciated.” Kenko smiles and nods at Raibaru, before turning his attention to Ayano. “And how are you doing this morning? I’m glad you’ve stopped by, regardless of the reason.”

Ayano was a bit surprised at the comment made her way. Really, she expected this process to be as quick as her first time doing this. It was probably best if she socialized, regardless of how she felt about it. “I’m alright. I don’t often have any plans so helping Raibaru is my number one priority at the moment. I hope to finish before class starts.”

“Ooh, how efficient!” The green-haired boy smiles. “I guess I shouldn’t hold you up, then.” He looks to Raibaru, “I hope you enjoy whatever club you join. I’ll see you two later.”

Bidding the cook farewell, Ayano and Raibaru head to the gymnasium. With the funeral items out of the way, it was likely that the club had moved back there.

“Sorry, Ayano. Tsuruzo and Kizana didn’t come today.” Riku smiles briefly at her and Raibaru. “Kokona is also at home right now, and Tokuko is in the nurse’s office. It’s just Shozo and I here at the moment.” He points to the stairs that lead to the balcony above the gymnasium. “We’re just working on technical things for now.”

Ayano lifts a hand to her chin in thought. “I see… Well, Raibaru is here to decide if she wants to join. We’re looking at each of the clubs to figure out which one fits her best.”

Shozo chuckles from his seat, a book of American culture on his lap and the script in his hand. “Definitely isn’t any good that neither our club leader or substitute leader are here right now.” He comments, holding his pen between his teeth in order to tear a page of the draft script. After crumpling up the page and tossing it in a nearby bin, he smiles at Raibaru briefly to be polite. “Not to downplay the situation of course. I’m sure that Riku can give you some information about us. Since I’m busy.”

Riku huffs lightly at Shozo’s emphasis on the word ‘busy’. He understood that that was Shozo saying that if Raibaru was going to hear anything, it was going to be from him. “Right..” He sighs and stands up with a smile. “...well, I’ll be happy to help.”

The shorter student leads Raibaru and Ayano out of the backstage area and to the main area. “Well, this is where we usually do short performances. Last year, the club’s most popular act was a comedy called “Good Script, Bad Actors”. It was very short compared to the original play due to the limited number of actors, of course, but we made it work.”

“Ah, I remember that one!” Raibaru recalls with a grin. “It was pretty funny, hehe.. How did your club manage to change your outfits so efficiently?” She asks, folding her hands together with a curious smile.

“We had some help from a few volunteers. Kashiko, Enpitsu… and a few others. They helped us keep the outfits ready and change up the hairstyles whenever it was needed.” Riku explains briefly. “While we all have our own talents within the club. Shozo with his accuracy research, Kokona with her passionate narrating… We all contribute by knowing how to act, but we contribute even more by having specific skills to help with the play in general!”

Riku holds his hand out to Raibaru with a smile. “Would you happen to have something like that? Or perhaps something you’re interested in learning like that?” He asks.

“Well…” Raibaru thinks for a moment, “...I’m not entirely sure what I could do that would be of any help.” She admits. “The only significant skill I have is martial arts. I guess I could make some pretty realistic fighting scenes if the play ever comes for that?” Despite Raibaru not having a particular interest in the Drama Club, she tried her best to be optimistic.

“That could be pretty helpful. But then that leaves acting skills.” Riku holds a hand to his chin with a kind smile. “It’s one thing to be experienced in martial arts, but it’s another thing to know how to execute the moves via how it’s required in the play. And of course there is the act of acting itself that requires experience.”

Raibaru gives a small smile. “Yeah, I understand that. I don’t think I’ve ever thought of myself as an actor, to be honest…” She mumbles, tapping her lip in thought.

“That’s alright. If you’re ever interested, we’ll be able to teach you the basics.” Riku offered, “And if things escalate from there, you could officially join us in plays!”

Bowing her head politely, Raibaru chirps, “Thank you! I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Are you ready to go?” Ayano asks, to which Raibaru nodded in response.

Riku waves the two girls off and returns to the backstage area. As they leave, Raibaru comments. “Riku and Kokona seem pretty sweet..” She starts, “...but I also know that they’re the nicest and least problematic of the whole club.”

Ayano nods. “Yes, generally speaking. Tsuruzo is very nice as well, albeit..”

“..Overzealous, hehe.” Raibaru finishes Ayano’s sentence. As Ayano nods again in agreement, Raibaru giggles. “I’d be more willing to join if I didn’t think that my inexperience would cause some riffraff in the club.”

“I understand.” Ayano replies. “A lot of people say that. I feel like the Drama Club will have to be its own little family for a while.”

Raibaru laughs again, clearly enjoying their mission as they head back to the school building.

“Ayano.” Daku briefly looked up from his book to look at her and Raibaru, but his attention immediately went back to his book, as if equally attempting to ignore their existence.

Ayano had approached Daku because he was the first person she saw. However, considering that his girlfriend was currently “missing”, it probably didn’t end up being the best idea. The look of Daku now that Saki was missing from his life was almost chilling. Ayano somewhat regretted approaching him.

“Ahem. Ayano?” Kokuma tapped on Ayano’s shoulders, stiffening up as the taller girl turned back to look at her. She paused for a second before waving a little, “..hi. Um, Daku’s sort of busy right now, and Oka should be walking around the school somewhere. I-If you need anything club related you could go find Oka or speak to me. An..And Shin isn’t here right now.” She adds the last bit awkwardly, but still smiles.

Raibaru speaks up with a sweet smile. “We’re touring each of the clubs to see if I’ll be interested at all in joining.” She explains, “I admit, the Occult Club was never on my list, though.”

Kokuma laughs a bit nervously and brushes her palms against her skirt. “Yeah..! Yeah, no, people usually say that. I’m surprised you came here at all, honestly, hehe… It’s really cool that you’re actually trying out all of your options, though! So, erm..” She blushes as she stutters a bit. She clearly wasn’t the best at conversation. “...wha… uh, what would you like to know?”

“Well…” Raibaru looks around the room, and Ayano does the same. She notices that Daku actually left, and was nowhere to be found in the room. Raibaru looks at the strange sigils all over the room. “..I, uh… know your cult- er- occult club… is known for doing rituals and stuff, but… what do you plan on doing after you summon a demon? Hypothetically speaking, that is.”

Laughing a bit nervously, Kokuma quietly explains. “Well- uh, there are several possible outcomes… a-according to our… our books, that is, hehe… And because there are tons of different demons, there are tons of different outcomes.. You know?”

“Right, so…” Raibaru lifts a hand to her mouth in thought, “...I’ve heard about a ‘flame demon’, I think. If you, erm… summoned it wrong, would it burn the whole school down, perchance?”

Kokuma pressed her lips together, clearly hesitant about answering her question. “...in theory… yes. I-It’s a possibility..”

Raibaru huffed out a laugh, crossing her arms and giving Kokuma a smile, as if waiting for her to defend her club.

“...um, but…” Kokuma inhales deeply and then sighs. “..okay, my club would hate to hear me say this, but the fact of the matter is that… while we all believe in the supernatural, we don’t believe in it enough to not try dangerous things.” She admits, looking around, as if expecting her club mates to be nearby to hear her. “...if you want, you can just imagine this as some ghost-hunting club. At this point, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind such a name.”

“Well, that does sound a little more fun.” Raibaru laughs lightly, smiling sweetly at Kokuma. “Although… I admit I’ve never been good with… horror. Ghost stories and whatnot.” She confesses, a light blush brushing her cheeks.

Kokuma smiles a bit at Raibaru’s confession. “Not many are, especially when scary things actually start happening. Which I’ve witnessed a lot since I joined this club…” She trails off a bit, before clearing her throat. “It’s alright if you don’t think that the Occult Club fits you. There are plenty more clubs out there.”

Raibaru nods in agreement, and Ayano speaks up this time. “Thank you for standing in for your club leaders, Kokuma.” She says, bowing her head respectfully.

Blushing bashfully, Kokuma quickly dips her head down as well. “O-Of course! I’m glad I could be of help…” She waves her hand with a happy expression. “..s…stop by again!”

Despite Ayano explaining her and Raibaru’s situation, Gema was clearly struggling to answer. Or perhaps struggling to notice them was more accurate, since he was still furiously pressing the buttons on the controller in his hand. It seemed like the whole club was pretty busy with whatever it was that had come up, since they were all playing the same game.

“Uuuugh!!” Pippi suddenly groans, flopping back in her chair. “I hate how he’s programmed to go after the healer! It’s so smart, though!!” She sighs, spinning around in her chair before noticing the two girls there. “Oh, hey, Ayano! And Raibaru! I didn’t expect to see you here.” Pippi smiles at the two, kicking her feet and hanging her head back to look at the two. “Sorry the ‘boss’ is busy right now. He’s in the middle of a super-important tournament right now, and he’s gotten pretty high up the ranks with our help!”

Before either of them could respond, Pippi waves her hand dismissively with a cute smile. “Not that you guys care about that, though. What brings you two here?” She asks, turning around to sit backwards on the chair. She folds her legs beneath her and leans her face on the head rest of the chair.

“Raibaru’s trying to find a club to possibly join.” Ayano explains, turning her head to the monitors, each of them flashing different colors. “Are there any aspects of the club that are more…”

Pippi smiles, “...less brain-rotting than sitting hunched back and being unable to respond to human life?” She asks, giggling at her own dramatic explanation of Gema’s current state. Part of Gema seemed to hear Pippi, though, as he straightened his posture immediately at her comment.

Ryuto exhales, looking defeated as he slumps into his chair. “If you’re looking for something that doesn’t include sitting down you could always try that DDR rip-off over there.” He points over to the dance machine on the opposite side of the room. “That’s definitely a workout.”

“Agreed.” Pippi giggles. “I think the best thing about video games is that there are so many of them!” She explains, “Even people who dislike games have a favorite. Like, sometimes they’ll say ‘I hate video games but this game is actually educational’ or ‘this game has great taste in music!’ you know?”

“I… think I understand.” Raibaru nods slowly. “Cooking-related or roleplay games sound nice. Realistic ones, of course, hehe… I think the only thing I dislike about video games is how unrealistic they are.”

Ryuto hums in thought before commenting. “Ironically, you’d probably hate fighting games, then.” He rationalizes. “Fighting games usually depend on unrealistic body types and fighting moves- especially adding magic and powers- in order to reel in their players. Since you used to do martial arts, I can see you wanting something that is related to what you trained.”

“Exactly! Good thinking.” Pippi compliments quickly, although based on Ryuto’s red face, he seems to dwell on the small compliment more than Pippi does. “Not everyone is really a gaming-club person. Especially since there aren’t any legitimate benefits.”

Raibaru nods as she thinks. “Right, right.. Well, I guess in that case I should look for something a bit more my speed, right?” She wonders aloud, to which Pippi nods to enthusiastically.

“Good luck with that. Have a nice–” Pippi’s attention is immediately snatched by a certain sound effect that seemed to signal that Gema had won. “-Holy crap, you did it alone?! Good job!!” She cheers.

As Gema begins explaining in detail his thought process and plan throughout the whole event, Raibaru and Ayano take that as their chance to leave.

Mina and Frankie were the two sparring today, and it seemed like Mina was winning this one- which wasn’t an inherent surprise. What was a surprise is that Raibaru was unaware that Frankie had recently joined the club.

“She joined just last week.” Budo said, his voice low since Ayano was right next to him. He looked to Raibaru, who seemed happy to see another member. “She’s making great progress, but… well, she’s lost a couple of nails.” He says, referring to the fake nails Frankie wore. “Still, she’s pretty adamant on keeping them on. Says she’ll have them on anyway if she has to defend herself, so she might as well get used to it, haha.”

Frankie usually adopted the almost infamous gyaru style. Hence why she was currently the most bedazzled Martial Arts member with blonde curly hair and all sorts of makeup still on her face. It’s worth noting that whenever she’s done training she has to reapply her makeup.

As Frankie and Mina finish up, the blonde exhales heavily and fans her face as Mina gives her a reassuring pat on the back. She spots Raibaru and walks over with a knowing, albeit tired, smile. “Hey, aren’t you the old club leader?”

“That’s right. It’s nice seeing that people are still joining the Martial Arts club!” Raibaru beams, folding her hands together happily.

As Raibaru and Frankie chat up a storm, Budo nudges Ayano softly. “You really seem pretty task-happy, huh?” He comments nodding to Raibaru. “Every time I see you you’re busy helping someone.”

“Hm, well..” Ayano folds her hands in front of her lap. “I don’t see a reason not to. She seemed to need help and I had the time on my hands.”

“It’s very admirable. I think you’ll be pretty well-liked in due time. Which would be a pretty big change from last year.” Budo says, crossing his arms and keeping his back straight, as per usual. It seemed like the polar opposite of Gema.

Ayano lifted an eyebrow, her arms also crossed. “Last year?”

“Yeah, last year. You were pretty quiet and didn’t talk to anyone, let alone actively do favors.” He explains.

Truthfully, Ayano didn’t realize that anyone noticed her last year. She always, always kept to herself because she didn’t see any value in socializing. She studied a lot, but even today has to look at Info-Chan’s information to decide which of her peers she’s speaking to sometimes.

“I’m.. surprised you noticed. Me, I mean.” Ayano mumbles, looking away. “I probably assumed that if I ignored everyone else I’d be ignored in return.”

Budo smiles, “Well, I like to think I noticed everyone so long as they weren’t skulking in the shadows or something. Heh. Even last year you were one of the more appropriate ones. Whenever someone invited you somewhere you refused, whenever someone suggested accessories or hairstyles you refused.” He shrugs. “If anything, I think you’re a pretty nostalgic image.”

“Nostalgic is… a way to put it.” Ayano tilts her head to the side with a questioning look. “Do you mean like I’m a typical sight to see?”

“Typical seems like a stiff way to put it. I mean since you’re nearly the same as you were last year, it feels normal to see you. Even if you didn’t start interacting with others. You’d be a nice normal somewhere in the background. You know?” Budo explains, although Ayano couldn’t say for sure that she understood entirely.

“I… suppose.” Ayano pauses for a minute. “Thanks.” She wondered if Taro saw her as that in some way, since she struggled so much to speak to him. Was her nervousness something he expected from her? Was that a good or bad thing?

“I sort of feel obligated to thank you for always being around, now, haha.” Budo chuckles, “But you’re welcome.”

Raibaru obviously didn’t want to return to the Martial Arts club, but she did enjoy catching up with them.

Kiba nods at Ayano as a greeting as the two enter the Light Music Club. “Hey, ladies! Miyuji didn’t come to school today if you’re looking for her.” She explains briefly, laxly tapping on the keys of her keytar to something that sounds like Der Flohwalzer.

“Yeah. Some club leader, am I right?” Gita jokes, to which Beshi immediately adds onto.

“For context, Gita constantly forgot that she was the club leader last year.” She reveals with a grin. “She was the latest to every one of our club activities.”

“Time is relative.” Gita says with a shrug, eliciting a giggle from Raibaru.

Ayano holds a hand up to Raibaru. “We’re looking around the clubs to see if Raibaru likes the look of any of them.” She explains briefly.

“Right.” Raibaru nods. “I know you all focus on rock, but would you happen to have any other kinds of instruments?” She asks, tapping her finger tips together with a smile.

Beshi points to a corner of the room, where a couple of forgotten instruments sat. “We have a couple of classical instruments if that’s more your taste. Piano, violin, simple stuff like that. Nothing too fancy.” She explains.

“If you’re into anything other than rock, we could probably set aside a bit of our budget to getting you what you want. It’ll just take a little longer than anything else since it’s not the number one priority.” Gita explains. “Despite the name this is a rock club for a rock band. So anything other than those necessities comes second.”

Raibaru hums in thought. “So, hypothetically, if I were to join the club would I automatically be part of the band and be required to play?”

“Nope. The band and club are two different things.” Kiba explains laxly, having to raise her usually low voice a bit to be heard from the other side of the club room. “In fact, if our club was big enough and we were split in half on the type of music we’d play, we could even have two separate bands in one club. That’d be cool.” She comments, returning to her keytar.

“Well, I am more interested in classical music…” Raibaru mumbles, holding a hand up to her mouth in thought. “...then again, I might be more interested in listening to it..” She wonders aloud.

Beshi smiles at her, “It’s good to know that difference. We’ve had a couple of members who joined for like a day when they realized that they’d actually have to play instruments.” She said with a light laugh.

“We probably just need to do little mini-interviews before we actually let them join.” Gita comments. “Instead of ‘you like music? Me too! You’re a part of the club now!’ You know?”

Raibaru nods in agreement. “That would probably help a lot, actually.” She bows her head a bit, “Thanks for your time!”

“Totes! Bubye!” Kiba waves as the two girls leave for the art club.

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goldenraeofsun · 8 months ago

Text

A Case for Defenestration

Also on AO3!

At noon, Dick moves the glass of orange juice to the crook of his elbow and uses his free hand to knock on Damian’s door. In his other hand, he carries a plate with an egg salad sandwich. “Hey, can I come in?”

Bedsheets rustle and Damian’s bed creaks, but Damian says nothing.

Dick squares his shoulders. He isn’t the best big brother in the world because he gives up easily. “It’s me,” he tries again. “Can I come in?”

A noise comes from the other side of the door, and Dick freezes. Did Damian just… blow a raspberry?

Maybe the lawnmower backfired. It is the first nice Spring day in a few months, so Alfred headed outside an hour ago to tend the back garden and trim the lawn.

“Enter, if you must, Grayson.”

Dick winces at the use of his last name. He gamely pushes Damian’s door open anyway. Hopefully, the kid’s just cranky from his injuries and being stuck in his room all morning. “Hey,” he says, pitching his voice low. “How’re you feeling?”

Damian scowls and doesn’t meet his eyes, his face reddening. Despite the warm weather and wide open, Damian has the sheets pulled up to his chest. “I am fine,” he says stiffly, “as you can see. You may go now.”

Dick sets down the plate and glass on Damian’s nightstand.

“You took quite a beating last night,” Dick says gently. “Of course, you gave as good as you got,” and Damian must really be out of it, since the compliment barely registers with him. Dick forces his smile to widen. “And on your thirteenth birthday of all days too.”

“Tt. I still do not see the point of commemorating the day of one’s birth when there are so many more momentous occasions to celebrate. The mastery of a new technique, for example or…” he drifts off, his voice going deadly quiet, “spilling of first blood.”

Dick stares. Damian sounds… off, even for him. More stilted. Formal. He’s retreating, and Dick cannot let that happen. Not after all the progress they’ve made. “Hey, Dami,” he says, consciously trying not to talk down to Damian because he hates that. “Is everything OK? Really? You don’t seem like yourself.”

“I – I – ” Damian stutters, hunching down further into the bed.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me,” Dick says, fighting to keep his concern from showing too much because it makes Damian defensive. “You know that, right?”

Damian’s face screws up as his fingers twist in his sheets. “He was special,” he says, his breath hitching to Dick’s utter horror; Damian never lets himself get this visibly emotional, “and I defenestrated him.”

“Hey, hey,” Dick says, and there goes his commitment to holding himself back. He reaches out to grasp Damian’s good shoulder. Damian shudders under his touch, and Dick’s heart breaks. But if Damian killed someone, Dick needs to tell Bruce the whole story. “Did you,” he swallows and restarts, “Did you throw someone out of a window last night?”

Dick didn’t have eyes on Damian throughout the whole fight; Arkham breakouts mean the Bats are spread thin, and it was all hands on deck. They started out the night in teams. Bruce, Damian, Dick, and Cass took on the Joker. Tim and Steph got the Riddler. Duke and Jason went after Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy.

By the time they trooped back to the Manor, they had switched targets several times over, when Jason got a face full of Harley’s baseball bat, when Bruce fractured two bones in his right leg in a bear trap, and, of course, when the Joker shot Damian in the shoulder and dislocated his left hip.

Damian blinks rapidly. “I did the deed this morning.”

Dick blinks in surprise as Damian looks away.

Because that makes no sense. Damian’s been bedridden since they came in from patrol last night.

Unless… an intruder snuck into the Manor and ambushed Damian in his room? Damian is good, but the kid was wiped after running around until four am in his condition.

But that also doesn’t make sense because someone would have heard. Jason and Tim even had an argument outside Damian’s room at half past ten, and Alfred had to chivvy them away to keep them from waking Damian up.

“Okay,” Dick says, “I think I’m missing something here. What exactly happened, Dames? From the beginning, if you can.”

Damian inhales a sharp breath. “He flew into my room, no doubt scared off from Pennyworth’s actions in the garden,” he says in a rush. “And I tried to provide an attractive, safe haven,” he gestures to his ocean blue bedsheet, “as I know beetles prefer bright colors –”

By sheer force of will, Dick does not facepalm.

Damian was all riled up about a beetle.

Dick bites his tongue as Damian narrates the whole saga: of the beetle settling on the blanket, Damian getting startled by a noise outside his room, Damian twisting under the blanket to hear better, and the beetle getting launched out of the window as a result.

“Damian,” Dick says as he stares at Damian’s huge green eyes, slightly more shiny than usual, “beetles can fly. I’m sure he’s fine.”

“You do not know that, Grayson!”

Dick does not snort, but it is a close goddamn call.

“Just because he wasn’t very big does not make him any less important,” Damian insists nonsensically.

“Of course not,” Dick soothes. “Hey,” he leans in, “I think you need a hug.”

“I do not –” Damian squawks, but too late.

Dick’s arms wrap around his ridiculous littlest brother, squeezing tightly, careful of Damian’s injured shoulder. “I can’t stop you worrying, but you do know that beetles belong outside, right? He wouldn’t have been happy cooped up in here.”

Damian nods. “I suppose you are right,” he huffs against Dick’s cheek.

Dick freezes as he inhales a pungent, smokey scent he’s never associated with Damian. “What the...?” He glances over his shoulder, like he might find Jason hovering outside the window, splashing the good scotch on the gardenias just to piss Bruce off.

“Richard?”

“Have you been drinking?” Dick pulls back to stare at Damian, noting the flush to his cheeks that Dick initially attributed to the warm weather and the way Damian’s eyes don’t quite focus on him, which Dick had written off first from pain, and then from embarrassment. But no, Damian was just showing classic signs of alcohol consumption.

Damian fiddles with the edge of his blanket. He nods once.

“Oh my god,” Dick groans. “What the hell, Damian? Why – how? ”

Damian scowls. “It was not my idea.”

“Fine,” Dick says as he grabs the sandwich and forces it into Damian’s hands. Damian needs to fill his stomach with something other than alcohol, stat. “Then whose idea was it?”

“Todd,” Damian says, entirely unsurprisingly. “No, I misspoke. It was Drake.”

“What.”

Damian wrinkles his nose in distaste. “Drake apologized for not celebrating my birthday properly. He said he first sampled alcohol on his thirteenth birthday, when he became a man, and he wanted to carry on the tradition, so to speak.”

Dick’s jaw drops open. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. Exactly how much did he give you?”

Damian lifts his chin in the air. “The same amount that Father occasionally imbibes.”

Dick runs a hand down his face. “Great,” he mutters. Bruce usually sticks to doubles, but after a rough patrol he’ll pour himself a triple. Damian doesn’t seem like he’s on the verge of alcohol poisoning, just good and tipsy, based on his emotional reaction to a beetle, so hopefully Damian only had two shots’ worth.

“And then, about ten minutes later, Todd visited me.”

Ah, damn.

“So it was Tim and Jason?”

“I just said that,” Damian says disdainfully. “Richard, keep up.”

“Right, right.” Dick nods along. “And what did Jason do? Never mind, I know exactly what he did.” He points to the sandwich. “Eat. Now.”

Damian obediently takes a bite.

“What I want to know,” Dick continues, “is why he gave alcohol to a thirteen-year-old.”

Damian swallows. “He said it was a reward for facing the Joker by myself during the fight.” He pauses, contemplating his sandwich. “He gave me slightly more alcohol than Drake.”

“Of course he did,” Dick despairs. He runs a hand through his hair, planning his next steps. Bruce can’t know about this. He would hit the ceiling if he heard Tim and Jason plied his youngest with enough booze to make Damian tear up over an insect. Dick is so going to have words with them. And then a drink or two for himself.

Damian picks up his sandwich. “I understand your concern. However, it is unfounded. No doubt due to my superior genetics,” he announces with a proud little smile, “I am capable of holding my liquor.”

“Mm hm,” Dick hums as he violently tries to keep it together without dying of laughter. He inhales a deep breath and lets it out before saying, “I’m just glad to see you’re OK, Dami.”

“Of course I am,” Damian sniffs.

Dick grins and squeezes his shoulder again. “Eat up. You’ll thank me later.”

#rae writes fic #batfam #batfam fanfic #fanfic #dick grayson #damian wayne #hurt damian wayne

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