#I ain’t gonna get better unless I practice but I’m struggling right now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vixenpen · 4 years ago

Text

Just Relax For Me, OK? (Scumbag! Hawks x (f) Reader)

(Hoevember Day 10 Free Day)

(Trigger warnings: coercion, power dynamics, manipulation)

(Art by: @kadeart)

He requested me specifically. Not ‘his people’ or his management; Hawks requested me out of all the candidates.

The very thought had you shook. You had only answered the ad seeking ‘new talent’ on a total whim not expecting to get it. Yes, You were cute in your opinion, but you didn’t think you were exceptional or exceptionally lucky enough to get the call back. Yet the email lingered at the back of your mind.

Y/n-San, I hope this email finds you well (although I guess the email doesn’t have a choice, now does it? 😂)

I was impressed with your headshots, and I think you would be perfect for the shoot. If interested respond as soon as possible.

Best,

Hawks

The man had sent you a personal email. He had invited you to be his leading lady himself. You nearly fainted when you got the email. Needless to say after an hour of research to ensure it wasn’t a joke or a scam you promptly emailed back to accept.

That was what led you here: Room 1 on the tenth floor. You were about to have a Photoshoot with the number two hero.

It felt surreal when you finally knocked on the door, but you sobered you quickly when a deep, playful voice sang back: “Come innn.”

A pair of lazy golden eyes sparkled at you as you entered. His deep red wings flexed as he gave a slow, smile.

“Hey there, kid.” He stood.

Your eyes widened. You had never seen him in civilian clothes. He had a little bit more muscle on him than you realized. He was by no means a big man, but he was fit and toned. Lithe muscles flexed beneath his Brooks Brother’s button down shirt, and his large hands were stuffed into his khaki trousers.

You were so taken aback by his casual appearance that you didn’t even notice the way his amber gaze caressed your curves, slowly and appreciatively.

“Enjoying the scenery?” He asked, laughter lacing his tone. “I know I sure am.”

The comment snapped you out of your trance.

“Oh! Gosh I’m sorry. I’ve just never seen you outside of your hero costume much, it’s...different. I mean you look amazing! You always do but—“

Shut up, y/n, just shut the fuck up.

So you snapped your mouth shut while the blonde man threw his head back and laughed. He gave you the sexiest smise (smile eyes) you’d ever had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of. Then He stepped closer, closing the space between you two.

“Well, I’m glad my leading lady approves.” He hummed.

Get your thoughts together, girl.

“Of course. But I was wondering, where is everyone else?”

“Well considering I set up this little meeting two days ahead of time I’m going to assume they’re all at their respective houses.”

“Two days?! Wait so the shoot—“

“Is two days from now. Ain’t I little shit?” He laughed. It was a bright, full sound that made the corner of his eyes crinkle, and despite your own confusion, you couldn’t help, but chuckle too.

“I would say; a lovable scamp,” you joked. “But, why would you ask me to come if it was just going to be the two of us.?“

The blonde fought against a smirk. It was cute how naive you were. It was a good thing Hawks had scooped your fine ass up out of the pile of headshots. Clearly, you were going to need his guidance.

“To help ease your mind a little, y/n. You’re new to all this, right?” He gestured around the studio.

“Uhh, yeah, I am.”

“I can’t imagine shooting an ad with a pro hero as your first job is easy on your nerves.” He gave you a little pouty little smile. Jesus this man was pretty.

You giggled nervously. “The number two pro in Japan at that, sir.”

“Eh,” he gave a dismissive little wave. “Whose counting?” Then he reached out to give your arms a gentle squeeze, his eyes pierced yours, fixing you in place, and you gasped a bit. It wasn’t a predatory look, but it was intense and demanding of your full attention.

“The important thing, kid, is that you’re comfortable with me. Understand?”

Flabbergasted, you nodded. It seemed to appease the avian hero because his serious expression melted into a friendly smile.

“Good, besides, I don’t bite...unless you ask me to, that is.” He added in a low voice.

Despite the friendliness in his face, something about the comment made your sex heat up for just a moment. But you didn’t have time to dawdle on that, before Hawks led you to one of the red couches in the room.

“Come on, let’s chat. I just wanna see where your head is at, Little Birdie, make sure you can really handle yourself in front of a camera.”

Your heart hammered at the nick name. “That’s sweet of you, I appreciate it.”

Hawks smiled. “So did you always wanna be a model?”

“No. I wanted to be a university student, but school is expensive and...well...money is hard to keep with the way things cost now a days.” You explained with a shrug. “But Jesus, I’m so excited! I can’t believe I’m getting to meet my idol,” you gushed, “I’ve seriously been a fan of you forever, and—oh, I’m gushing, aren’t I?” You frowned. “I’m so sorry.”

The blonde just chuckled, propping an arm up on the couch around you.

“It’s alright, y/n, I picked you out of all the other girls that entered.” He cocked a brow in a cheeky little smirk. “You could say I’m a fan of you too.” He placed his free hand on your knee and gave it a squeeze. “You’re gonna be amazing at this.” His fingers trailed up your thigh a bit before stopping.

Your wings gave an involuntary twitch at his praise.

“And those,” he nodded towards the appendages, “are going to photograph beautifully.”

“I don’t know about all that,” you shrugged, laughing a little, “but I’m gonna try my best.”

“Uh Uh,” he gave your knee a little shove, “you’re going to be the best. Here, stand up,”

Puzzled, you looked at his outstretched hand before grabbing it. He pulled you to your feet. You heart revved as he pulled you flush against his chest, and kept an arm wrapped around your waist.

“I’m gonna show you what I see when I look at you, y/n, and what the camera is gonna see as well. Are you wearing anything underneath this?” He asked.

“Excuse me?” Your cheeks burned. “Why?!”

He gave you an amused look as if you’d asked something ridiculous.

“Because, this is going to be a lingerie shoot, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable if you’re naked under this.”

“Oh...I—yes I am.”

Of course you knew this shoot called for lingerie. The shoot had specified ‘intimate.’ Why were you so shocked?

Quit being such a head case in front of him!

“Take off your clothes, Little Birdie.” He directed.

You paused.

Hawks must have sensed your hesitation because he let out another breezy laugh and added: “if it makes you feel any better, I’ll do the same, look.”

Once again that arresting look of his held you hostage. He kept his hooded eyes on you as he unbuttoned his shirt, slowly slipping it off. He was definitely more muscular than you had originally realized.

Your eyes slid down to where his hands had begun unfastening his belt. It clanked as it collapsed to the ground. He didn’t take off his pants fully, but they now sat low on his trim hips exposing a dark blonde happy trail, and a v-cut that disappeared into a pair of red boxer briefs.

The avian licked his lips. There was a cocky gleam in his eye as he watched you drink in his body shamelessly.

“Your turn, Little Birdie.” He coaxed.

Well, if Hawks could do it, you could too, right?

So you eased out of your tank top and slipped off your jeans, exposing your barely covered flesh in the strappy black and red silk lingerie.

Hawks let out a satisfied; “Mmm,” as his eyes swept over you. “Perfect. Come on, let me show you something.”

He led you to the white backdrop surrounded by studio lights and camera; guiding you to stand on a black X directly in front of a camera.

He sidled you behind you, keeping his strong arms around your waist, then he gently folded your body forward.

Oh...this is...what is this?

As you struggled to formulate coherent thoughts, you felt the man’s soft lips against your ear. There was amusement in his voice as he mumbled: “I feel that heart of yours going a mile a minute, baby bird,” he chuckled. “Relax mama. I got you, ok?”

Your eyes fluttered shut as his low, soothing voice rolled down your spine. You slowed your breathing.

“I know it’s nerve wracking, baby bird,” he hummed in your ear. “Imma take care of you, though, ok?”

His hands were warm and rough and sliding along your supple skin. He pulled your hips towards his, grinding you into his crotch. Your wings twitched involuntarily. Hawks sighed

“Shit,” you whispered, as your ass pressed into his groin.

He felt so good. So strong and self assured.

“That’s it, Angel.” He practically purred. “Just relax, babe. I wanted you for this,” his fingers trailed up your stomach. From the corner of your eye, you see his red wings wrap around you.

His lips were pressing into your neck now.

“You’re so beautiful. If you‘re not feeling your sexy self by the time we shoot tomorrow I’m gonna make you feel it.”

His fingers were caressing the undersides of your breasts now, teasing at their softness.

“Hawks,” you gulped, “are you sure...it’s ok to be doing this? I don’t know how I feel about this.”

“Aww,” he tilted your face towards his own with a soft touch. “Of course it’s ok, beautiful. We’re just practicing, yeah?”

“But...it doesn’t feel like...like...”

“Like what, baby bird?” His wings fanned the air lazily as they cacooned you both. “Like practice? Oh but it is.”

He clutched your hand and slid it up between your breasts, his much larger one engulfed it. “Feel how your heart beat has slowed? Hm? The way your breath has evened out. You’re so much more relaxed now, aren’t you?”

“Yesss,” you sighed, but honestly it was because you were so turned on.

His clothed knee pried it’s way between your legs slightly, giving your burning sex something to grind on.

“See? I knew you could do it.” He smiled. “If you’re going to be a model, you have to know how to be cool under any circumstance, you know? For example. If the director wants us to get a little more Intimate, like this,” his long fingers dipped below your skimpy panties and brushed just above your clit. “You’ll have to keep calm and let me, won’t you?”

“I—I guess so, but,” you bit your lip and moaned as Hawks suddenly pressed his knee harder against your cunt.

“And when they tell you to touch me, like this,” his other hand reached around to wrap your fingers around the erection poking through his pants. You could feel a damp spot from the Pre that had leaked through.

“Would...would they really expect all this?” You asked. This felt so...wrong? But fuck did it feel good.

“Of course, Baby, it’s all apart of the job. That’s why what we’re doing is so important.”

Without warning, his fingers dipped between the soaked lips of your sex, breaking the quiet intimacy as you moaned with sudden pleasure.

“Fuck,” Hawks groaned. His fingers swam in your tight, wet cunt, flexing for that perfect spot. “Feels good doesn’t it, baby bird?“

Your pussy smacked from the three long digits plunging into it and every time Hawks worked his fingers your round ass grinded against his flexing dick.

“This, Hawksss-ah fuck!—this-we shouldn’t be doing this...”

“Oh, Angel,” he cooed, “it’s alright. You want this job, don’t you?”

“Yesss,” you groaned. “Yes I do.”

“It’s an amazing opportunity isn’t it?”

“It is.” You squeezed his manhood as his thumb began to press your clit. The pleasure spiking through out your body made your wings twitch against his hard, bare chest.

He moaned. “Working with me could lead to many more opportunities, Little Birdie, so long as you learn how to go with the flow. Understand?”

Swallowing hard you nodded.

“Good girl. I’m gonna take care of you, baby bird. Tomorrow and every shoot afterward.”

There was something smug in his heady voice, he spun you to face him, and two vermillion feathers detached from his wings. Your eyes followed them as they hooked into the hem of your panties and slid them down.

“Wait—Hawks. Do you expect me to—“

“I expect you to be professional, Baby bird.” He cut in, hands squeezing and massaging your thick ass. Without warning he scooped your body up and had your thighs around his waist. “You’re going to be a good little leading lady, aren’t you?” He smirked.

You fingers dug into the skin surrounding his wing joints as you held on. Your eyes were wide with surprise and hazy with desire. Fuck! you wanted this man, but this was a lot—even for you.

“I do want to do a good job.” You agreed.

“Oh you will, baby.” He lowered you against his straining dick.

“Fuck...” your head snapped back.

One hand remained on your ass cheek while another slid up below your wings, the pad of his thumb circled the skin there making you coo in satisfaction.

“God damn, Birdie. I promise, this is going to open doors for you.”

He was lowering you again, this time you felt the tip of him press between your folds.

“Wouldn’t you like that? To work for me? To be my go-to girl. My little muse?”

His wings stretched wide, catching the bright studio lights in your periphery. Your gaze, however, remained on those smoldering golden irises with their slitted black pupils.

“I would like that, Hawks.” You whispered back, your fingers stroked his feathery blonde hair.

“Ohhh,” he groaned out as he slipped your juicy pussy down on his length. “I bet you would like that, Birdie.” His wings flapped as you cried out in ecstasy.

The lights became blurred as your eyes screwed shut, and then you were in the air. Hawks held your ass firm in both hands. Every flap of his wings made you bounce along his thick member and sent delicious ecstasy shooting through your body.

Behind you, your own wings were flapping as well, as if trying to match his pace. He was gazing at you with a mix of lust and admiration.

“God, you’re fucking sexy. You’re gonna be my little muse—my little love bird, aren’t you? I’ll mold you into the perfect model. Fuckkk!”

He sighed at the feeling of your walls squeezing him. He knew you would feel amazing. The minute he saw those headshots, he knew he had to have you in more ways than one. His sharp canines found your neck and bit into the flesh.

“H-Hawks!”

“Don’t worry, baby, we’ll cover it tomorrow. I’m going to take care of everything for my little muse. Fuck! Ahh god, you feel fuuucking good.”

His balls smacked against you. The friction of his pelvis brushed against your swollen clit making your cunt convulse in pleasure. Ecstasy kept crashing over you in shock waves.

“Ohh fuck, Hawks, god-ahhh-shii!”

Your pussy creamed around the hard dick pummeling into it.

“Yeah, my little model. Pretty, little birdie.” He praised.

His wings seemed to work faster and harder making you bounce even harder. Hawks caught one of your hard nipples in between his teeth, tongue slipping around the bumpy areolas and flicking the bud.

“Oh my godddd, oh my fuck—“

Your pussy flexed around his dick as your orgasm washed over you.

“Shhh fuccckkk yes, y/n!” The blonde cried out, feeling your nails dig into the skin of his back.

You were no longer forming words as Hawks continued to bounce you on his twitching cock, sinking a finger into your asshole and adding more pressure. Another orgasm exploded over you. He kept bouncing you, his blonde bangs plastered to his sweat slicked forehead.

“I’m gonna fucking cum,” he mumbled against your neck. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

You heard a couple studio lights topple over as his wings worked even harder towards his release, and when he came he came hard and hot and heavy.

His whole body tensed with the action and his head flung back. Christ. He was beautiful.

Slowly, he lowered the pair of you back on to the ground, still holding on to you.

Your mind was still swimming as Hawks pressed kisses up your throat until he reached your lips. Then he smirked.

“My little muse,” he mumbled between kisses, “I’m gonna mold you into the perfect little model. Promise.”

#bnha imagines #my hero academia #bnha #bnha scenarios #scumbag hawks #hawks simp #i simp for this man #hoevember2020 #free day #my hero fanfic #bnha headcanons #hawks smut #n/sfw #n/s/f/w #hawks x reader #yandere hawks #bnha smut

790 notes · View notes

parvulous-writings · 4 years ago

Text

A Final Decision // Jesse McCree x F!Reader

Request: Hey there! Can I request McCree and his SO deciding to leave Overwatch? This S/O would be around since Deadlock and she wants to stay because Overwatch is grounding for her, but McCree is ready to leave it all behind... How do you think that would go? 🤔 thank you for reading! 🥰

Requested by: Anonymous

Summary: McCree and reader discuss leaving Overwatch, and eventually come to a decision.

Warnings: I would say use of tobacco, but Jesse isn’t smoking here. For once.

Words: 1.5k

Notes: Do I now have an almost crippling need for my comfort cowboy? Maybe Also, I did this more from Blackwatch, with a vague awareness of Deadlock, as I’m more confident in that area! I hope that’s okay :)

Not my gif

The day had been exhausting and never-ending for both you and McCree. You hadn’t been out on the field, merely in the training room sparring against one another, but it was still very tiring. Zarya would have probably told you that it was nothing, and that the pair of you needed to toughen up. You both would have probably ignored her remark. Thankfully you had a couple of weeks till your next scheduled mission together. You were grateful for this, and Jesse? He was... Relieved. It gave him time to think over something that had been bugging him for a very long time. Something that always lingered in the back of his mind, but never really voiced due to some uncertainty or insecurity. He didn’t always give something a third thought- but when he did, it was often for good reason.

Tonight, he decided, was the night he’d bring this to your attention, and he wasn’t going to back down this time, he wasn’t going to shy away from this.. Problem. As he returned from his evening shower, towel wrapped around his waist, he ran a hand through his damp hair, trying to soothe his nerves somewhat before the almost dreaded conversation. He quietly slid the door to your shared quarters closed behind him, moving to his dresser to get at least partially dressed before you, too, returned. He had gotten some soft pajama pants on before the door slid open again and you stepped through the gap. He swallowed his fear, glancing over his shoulder at you with a small smile.

“Hey there, cowboy.” You greeted with a small smile of your own. You were already dressed in your pajamas, you usually got dressed immediately after drying off when it came to showering in the main complex. He gave a slight smile, nodding to you. “Hey, sugar.” He replied, quite quietly. You immediately noticed his almost odd behaviour. It was odd for him, at least. “Jesse? You feeling okay?” You asked, your concern showing through your tone and furrowed brow. You tried to reach for his forehead, to check his temperature, but he took it in his larger one before the backs of your fingers touched the tanned skin of his forehead. He pressed a chaste kiss to the digits, before replying, practically humming against your skin. “Fine... Jus’ fine...” He glanced up at you for a moment. He gently started to guide you to sit beside him, placing his hand on your thigh. “I just... I got something on my mind, pumpkin. I need to talk to you about it...” He started.

You felt a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, your mind leaping to the worst scenarios it could imagine. Was he leaving you? No, that can’t be it, you’ve been so close and so strong together, so trusting of one another. Your logical side tried to fight back against your worries. Maybe he’s just lost feelings. But that’s even worse.

Clearly your mental conflict had started to show on your face, as you felt Jesse’s calloused hand rest on the skin of your cheek. “Hey... It’s nothin’ to worry about...” He assured you, his voice calming and soothing to the air. “I just.... Been thinkin’ about leaving the force.” He broke the news to you, and it took you a minute to be able to process what he had said to you. At first you remained motionless, as your brain ticked over McCree’s words, it’s gears turning to try and figure out how to react.

Then you laughed. Surely he as joking, right? “Last time I checked, it’s not April, Jesse.” You shook your head slowly at him, though when you met his dark eyes again, you saw he wasn’t smiling. He was serious. “W-what?” You asked, almost baffled. “Leave Overwatch? Why? Where would we go? This is our home, Jesse, our family is here...” You barraged him with words and questions, still struggling to comprehend why he was saying what he was. He placed his hands carefully on your shoulders to try and keep you at least vaguely calm. “Sweets...” He said slowly, trying to get your attention and pull you out of your momentary spiral. “I’ve been thinkin’ about this a long time, I’ve thought about all of it. I got my eye on a place we could go, we could get permission to leave from Morrison, an’-” “But we’ve been here from the beginning!” You exclaimed. “Not to mention we’re fighting for a better world! We work under a good cause, Jesse. I don’t want to let that go. I can’t just.. Just leave.” You pause for a moment, taking a shaking breath. “You know what Overwatch means to me.” You whisper to him.

Jesse lowered his head for a moment, and his hair fell partially over his face. “I.. I know, sugar. I know. But... We ain’t gonna be young forever. Look at the ol’ crusader. He’s spent his entire life fightin’ for what he thinks is right. I admire it, sure, but... I don’t want to end up like that. We’ve been here for years, done pretty much all we can. I think it’s time we move on, start the rest of our lives,” He told you, calmly. You could still hardly comprehend it. For you, this had come out of nowhere, you had no idea he had been thinking down this route. “But, Jesse....” You couldn’t get your mind off of the bonds you had with others, the friends you had made, the family you had chosen. “I don’t want to leave everyone. I don’t want to stop what we do. It keeps my mind on what we’re aiming for, what we’re fighting to restore.” You insisted, rather firmly.

McCree sighed. Sometimes, your stubbornness could be rather annoying. “I know. I’ve been beside you the entire way. Maybe not in the same way I am now,but still. And that’s the point. We’ve been through the bad an’ the ugly together... With Blackwatch, and so many issues with that team, and then the issues with Talon as well...” He shook his head. “What about the good, pumpkin? I want to see that, with you.” He insisted, taking your hands in his own again and giving them a gentle squeeze. When you looked to his eyes again, to properly examine them and the emotions within, you saw the faint glistening of tears at the corners. Then it really hit you how much he had been thinking about this conversation. How many times he must have thought it over in his mind, played out different scenarios with varying endings. He wanted a more domestic future for the pair of you, and he wanted it badly. You reached out to him, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone to wipe away the stray tear that had now escaped onto his weathered skin.

“Jesse...” You whispered to him, before pulling the man tightly to your chest, feeling his beard gently prick at you through the fabric of your shirt. He wrapped his arms around you just as tightly, as if you may slip away within a heartbeat. You both stay like that for a little while, in a comfortable silence, until your mind resolves it’s inner conflict, and you open your mouths to speak. “Let’s... See what Morrison says..” Your voice is quiet, but audible enough to him to lift his spirits slightly. “Maybe you can show me what you’ve been looking at... But I want to stay until they can find someone to replace us... It’s only fair.” You nuzzle your face into his admittedly luscious hair as you speaking, muffling your words only slightly. Your decision makes McCree smile ever so slightly, and he pulled away a little bit, to see your face and make sure you mean it, that you’re not just saying it to cheer him up. He nodded slowly in agreement with you-he could live with staying a little longer, it would make him appreciate his time with you later even more than he would have done originally. “Alrigh’, sugar... I say we go see him in the mornin’.. I think he’s probably asleep now, and to be fair with ya, I’m pretty beat too.” He told you, pulling you more into the centre of the bed so he could curl up with you and catch some much needed shuteye. You merely hummed your agreement, still partially unsure on how well this would really go for the pair of you, but you’d never truly know unless you made that leap of faith.

You feel him press a soft kiss to your cheek. “Night, sugarcube.” Jesse mumbled, before he moved to nuzzle his face against the fabric of your nightshirt, already tangling his limbs with yours. You smile fondly at him, giving him a goodnight kiss to the forehead. “Night, cowboy...” You whisper in reply, letting your eyes drift to a close so you can find slumber with your beloved.

#jesse mccree #jesse mccree x reader #feminine reader #x reader #x reader requests #requested #requests open #comfort cowboy

65 notes · View notes

makeste · 4 years ago

Note

if there is a timeskip, how far ahead do you think horikoshi will move along the story?

okay, so... I sat here for a while trying to work out how to phrase this less harshly lol, but I think I’m just gonna be blunt: I really, really hope that Horikoshi does not give us any kind of timeskip. there are precious few things that could potentially push me to quit this series, but a timeskip is one of them. I’m not saying that to be dramatic, I’m saying it just as a fact, because it’s happened to me multiple times before. in my experience, nothing else out there ruins a story as easily or effectively as a timeskip.

but let me try to break down and explain my loathing of them a bit more in depth.

1.) they make it so the audience misses out on character development. this is probably the thing I hate the most about timeskips. so here’s the thing; there are two different kinds of shounen timeskips. the type where the characters (mostly) stay together throughout the timeskip (think Naruto), and the type where the characters split apart during the timeskip (think One Piece). and I hate both of them equally, and let me explain.

I am reading the series because I am invested in the characters and their relationships. I want to see these relationships grow and evolve. timeskips make that impossible, because the whole point of a timeskip is that it skips right over everything so the audience doesn’t get to see it. and so, if the characters stay together during the timeskip, that’s a huge chunk of time during which their relationships are continuing to evolve, and the audience is missing out on all of that. that’s like starting a book and then finding that the entire middle section of it is blank. like, sorry about that, we decided this part wasn’t important enough to write down. if you’re lucky we might show you little bits and pieces of what happened during flashbacks, but otherwise you’ll just have to deal with it. boooo.

on the other hand, if the characters all go their separate ways to train on their own during the timeskip, then in a way that’s even worse. like yes, we’re technically not missing out on any relationship development, because no relationship development is even happening. those relationships are just put on hold for the duration of the timeskip. like, to use One Piece as an example, that means that the crew was together for like six months or however long, and then they all split apart for two whole years. they were apart for four times longer than they were ever together as a crew! like, you brought this found family together and bonded them so strongly only to rip them apart again?? for two years?? and for what! so that they could become boringly overpowered?? well, speaking of --

2.) they make fights predictable and/or disappointing. now for me, this one isn’t quite as bad as the character development one, but that’s mostly because I don’t care about fights as much. that said, post-timeskip fights are usually a dime a dozen, and I hate it. because here’s the thing: the whole purpose of the timeskip was to power up the character offscreen, so that they come back ready to kick more ass. which is great in theory, but in practice, post-timeskip fights tend to feature one of two brands of disappointment. either the protagonist character powered up so much that they easily win the fight, or else they still struggle even after all of that training and effort. the latter is just frustrating, because it’s like, so then what even was the point? but meanwhile, the former is also disappointing in its own way, because there’s no challenge anymore. yes it’s cool for like two seconds, but then what? if all I wanted was to watch someone reliably and effortlessly kick ass all day, I’d go become a fan of a bandwagon sports team. for me, the appeal of shounen is that the characters are learning and growing and struggling. if you make it easy for them then where’s the fun in that? if your character no longer faces any real obstacles then it stops being an interesting story.

and last but not least, 3.) they change the tone of the series (usually for the worse). so this one is interesting because this is one of the main reasons why a lot of people advocate for timeskips in the first place. ‘they help to make the series more mature’, or something along those lines. people are interested in seeing what kinds of storylines would open up with an older, more experienced cast of characters.

except that when people say more mature, what they usually mean is one of two things. either more romance, or else darker/grittier story content (read: more character deaths). which, just speaking personally, I have approximately zero interest in either of those things. if I wanted a grimdarker shounen series I’d be reading Attack on Titan instead. if I wanted more romance, I would read... well actually don’t really know what I’d read lol, because that’s kind of the point I’m trying to make here -- I don’t read romance, because I’m not interested in it (insert aromantic disclosure here). as an element of a more complex story, sure, that’s fine. but as a focus, I’d just as soon not. nine times out of ten I will lose interest in it. that’s 100% a personal preference there of course, but yeah.

anyways, but the point is, I started reading this coming of age story about teenagers at a superhero academy because I like coming of age stories! I like reading about younger characters and their adventures, learning about themselves and the world around them, making mistakes and getting stronger and the like. this is a specific genre that has a specific appeal to me. there’s an idealism and an optimism inherent in it, and I really don’t want the series to go changing that up. especially if there’s no need to change it up. which imo there really isn’t. as it stands, BnHA is already an unexpectedly mature story in a lot of ways, and it’s already exploring a lot of darker and more complex themes as it is, and doing an excellent job of it imo. basically, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. most of the time you’ll just end up ruining what was so appealing about the series to begin with.

so yeah! thus concludes my impromptu rant post about timeskips lol, and I’ll just belatedly add in a disclaimer as well that this is just my own opinion of course, and ymmv. but for me personally, I think that shounen series in particular rarely come out better after a timeskip (in fact I can’t think of any off the top of my head to tell the truth). also in BnHA’s case I really don’t think there’s any need for one at all. maybe if we get another short one, like the three-month timeskip that took place just before the start of this arc. but even then, there is just so much going on currently in the manga that it would feel weird to just fast-forward through it. TomurAFO is still on the loose. Dabi just blew up hero society as we know it. All Might is prophesized to die in the near future. the entire Billboard Top Ten was pretty much wiped out. and so on and so forth, and that’s not even getting into all of the character development that recently took place.

it just feels like things are too chaotic right now to skip ahead very far. I want to see what’s going to happen in the immediate aftermath of all this. and I don’t feel like the villains will leave the heroes alone to recover for very long. like, I can’t really figure out where someone would even put a timeskip, I guess is what I’m saying? there’s nowhere that feels natural. I could see them skipping a few weeks ahead maybe, but no more than that. anything more, and one has to assume that Tomura simply comes back to wipe out the rest of the heroes and/or the world lol. unless they shove him into another cryotube or something, I suppose.

so yeah, I think we’ll either get a very short timeskip or none at all. at least I am keeping my fingers crossed for as much. I don’t think it needs to happen or should happen. again, ymmv, but at any rate that’s my answer.

#bnha 295 #bnha meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #asks #anon asks #long post

166 notes · View notes

fictionalabyss · 4 years ago

Text

Doc.

Pairing : Sam x Reader (near the end), Del, Crowley.

Word count : 2,899

Written for : @samwinchesterbingo

Square : Doctor!Sam

Prompt : 'A doctor who lost their license and ability to practice, so they take up a job in organized crime doing surgeries for gang members who get shot/stabbed'

Warnings : Sam's POV, Mafia AU, Alcohol consumption, injuries, blood, bullet wounds, pain meds

A/N : A big ol’ giant thank you to my girls @sorenmarie87 & @iflostreturntosteverogers for their help with this one.

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

Sam Winchester Bingo Masterlist.

Sam was pissed and drunk when he found himself in a bar, hammered beyond belief, but giving a complete stranger medical advice. “They may have taken away my license, but I’m still the best fucking doctor in this state.” he’d muttered, whiskey half way to his mouth.

“You got a number, doc?” The man in the suit asked. “Ya know, in case I need any more medical advice. I can pay in cash.”

“Yeah, why not.” Sam dug out an old business card and slid it over. “Office number is obviously no good, but the cell is.”

“Thanks doc. Hey, James? Doc’s tab is on me.” Sam got a pat on the back before the stranger left, leaving him with his drinks.

“Bring me the bottle.” he ordered, downing the last of his glass.

Sam had forgotten about that night at the bar, it blurred in with all the others, until a call came through. “Hello?”

“Hey, doc. Still need some patients? I got a few, but I need you here quick.”

“Uh.” Sam’s brow furrowed as he thought about it for a second. “Sure, I guess. Where do you need me?” Sam jotted down the address before saying “I can get there in about 30 minutes-”

“You’ve got 20. See ya there, doc.”

The line went dead, and Sam stared at his phone for a minute before he realized he had better get moving if he wanted to get paid.

Sam was confused to find himself at a bar. An empty bar. The only person to be seen was the bartender casually washing a glass. Had he gotten the address wrong? He pulled out the slip of paper from him pocket and checked it again. “Hey, is this-”

“You the doc?” the bartender eyed Sam and the bag he had slung over his shoulder.

“Yeah.” Bartender motioned to a door at the back, just behind the bar. “Thanks.” Sam nodded and headed for it. Opening the door, he was met with a dark stairway, concrete walls and shaky wood that smelled with the start of mold. He made his way down cautiously. It was dark, at first. The musty area he stepped down into made his brow furrow, but hearing a noise coming from the back had him moving deeper into the darkness.

Suddenly, as if they heard him, a door opened and light spilled out, forcing Sam to blink past the blinding light. “You’re late, doc.”

Sam glanced down at his watch and grunted. “And yet, I cut the commute down by 5 minutes. Next time, need me closer.”

“Real fucking comedian, ain’t you.” As soon as Sam was within reach, he was grabbed by his jacket and pulled into the room. “Got three guys here you need to look at.” He motioned to each man, once of who was laying on a table in obvious pain and covered in blood.

Sam froze taking them in. Expensive suits and the occasional gaudy jewelry were a big giveaway on the kind of people these guys were. Weapons scattered around confirmed it. “I don’t-” Sam was cut off by a hand hitting his chest. When he looked to the man he’d first met at the bar, then down to the hand on his chest, his mouth shut.

“That's 10k cash, doc. Just for looking them over and keeping your fucking mouth shut. How’s that sound?”

Sam nodded, taking the cash and pocketing it before stepping further into the room eyeing the guy on the table. “What happened?” No one answered. “If you expect me to help-”

“I’ll pay you an extra 5k not to ask stupid questions.” With a sigh, Sam nodded before pulling off his suit jacket and rolling up his sleeves. “Good.”

Sam felt eyes on him the entire time he worked. He pulled bullets out of holes, and then stitched them up as best he could. Got grumbled thanks before he moved on to the next person, and when he was done, when he was wiping his hands clean, he got a compliment.

“Nice stitch work, doc.”

“Don’t move him unless it’s to a hospital. He had internal bleeding. I stopped it as best I could, but.. I don’t have what I need here.”

“I’ll try and get you what I can for next time.” Sam was handed another wad of cash. “5k as promised.” Sam just took the money and nodded before grabbing his bag, his jacket, and heading out.

Sam had been getting the calls for over a year now. There were times the calls were more frequent than others, and then there were times where he didn’t hear anything for over a month. But they always called, and he always went back to that dank little bar’s basement.

When he saw the familiar number light up his screen, he grabbed his phone and started for his bag, accepting the call and tucking the phone between his ear and shoulder. But this time it was different.

“Doc?”

“Yeah, Del, it’s me.”

“Where are you?”

Sam froze, his usual bag in his hand. “At home. Where do you need me?”

“No time, doc. I’m coming to you. Get ready for company.”

Sam looked down at his phone confused as the line went dead. They never came to him, they never risked anything but that bar basement. How bad could it be if they couldn’t go there? He’d looked the other way for over a year, but now.. Now it was coming into his home. What had he gotten himself into?

When his door burst open, he jumped as 4 guys came in, guns out and eyes all around. He knew them, he’d stitched them up countless times but he’d never seen them like this. “Where can I put her?”

Sam's eyes went back to the door and his eyes went wide. It wasn’t one of the men, it wasn’t some big burly guy with a gun. It was a young woman, her beautiful dress covered in blood and her body limp in Del’s arms. “What the fuck-” he stopped himself from asking, knowing he wouldn’t get an answer. “Uh- upstairs. Any room.” Del nodded and hurried up the stairs and Sam grabbed his bag, ignoring the four other guys patrolling around his house.

Once Sam got up the stairs, he found Del putting her on the bed in the first room he’d found. Sam’s room. Sam hurried in, rolling up his sleeves as he gave her a once over to find the source of her bleeding.

“I uh- I need to call the boss, tell him where we are.. You got her?”

“Yeah.” Del just nodded before heading out of the room, blood covered hands digging the phone out of his pocket. “There’s a bathroom two doors down, and another off the kitchen if you guys need to clean up. Is anyone else hurt?” Sam looked back at him over his shoulder.

“No.. No just her. Everyone else is fine.” Sam gave him a nod and turned back to the girl bleeding out on his bed. “That’s part of the problem.” Del muttered, phone going to his ear.

Sam had carefully cut away a part of her dress to uncover the wound in her right shoulder. He winced when he saw it, he had to be careful. He needed to clean the area, needed to get a good look at what he was dealing with. Turning from her and towards his bag, he started pulling out everything he’d need. He glanced at her as he did, the poor girl had probably passed out in shock, but she was about to get a rude awakening.

He wasn’t wrong. As he poured water over the wound to clean it, she shot up screaming. Del came running back in to find Sam struggling to hold her and clean the wound. “She’s fucking strong.” Sam cursed as Del came to help.

“‘Course she is. She’s the boss's daughter.” Sam’s eyes shot to Del, and he just gave Sam a shrug. “Now you know why we ran to you.”

Her screams died to sobs as they let up, Sam working to get the area clear. “Which direction was she shot from, you know?”

“No.”

“Gonna need to check her back, help me roll her.” She whined as they rolled her and Sam noticed more blood on her back. “Looks like it went right through.”

“It burns.” she whined, and Sam’s eyes shot up to meet hers.

“Yeah, it’s gonna. Can you sit up?”

“I don’t know..”

“It would be easier for me if you can. If you can’t, that’s okay, I’ll make it work but then I’ll have to move you around again.” She looked down, like she was taking in the sight of her torn and bloody dress, and then she glanced to Del.

“He’s the best doctor we got.” Del assured her.

She glanced down again and Sam seemed to understand. “I don’t think that’s what she worried about, Del. I had to cut her dress and her bra strap.” Del looked to Sam, then her and he seemed to almost pale as it hit him.

“Oh shit, yeah, I-” He cleared his throat and stood. “I’ll uh- call if you need me. Your dads on his way, kid.”

Once Del was out of the room and the door was shut, Sam turned his attention to her again. “Do you want a clean shirt? You can borrow one of my buttons ups-”

“No.” she answered quietly, trying to sit up. Sam reached his hand out, and she took it, letting him help her sit on the edge of the bed. “I don’t want to ruin your clothes. Maybe after, though, if the offer still stands.”

“Okay. Looks like the bullet went right through. I’m gonna give it a poke to be sure, but I think you got lucky with this one.”

“Yeah.. lucky.” She was looking down at a hand in her lap while the other clutched at her dress to keep her decent.

“I’ve treated much worse.” She hissed, her body going stiff when he pushed a finger into her wound and felt around to be sure.

She was quiet and stiff until he was done. “You really a doctor?” He nodded. “Why do you work for us? Why not at a hospital?”

He glanced from her wound to her eyes as he reached for the bag and brought it onto his lap. “I made a mistake. Lost my license.”

“What mistake was that?”

Sam sighed, not speaking as he worked, the bag eventually falling back to the floor. She hissed again when he started to stitch up the wound in her back, and that's when he finally answered. “I trusted someone.” She turned to look at him over her shoulder. “I had a relationship with a nurse. We kept it quiet, workplace romance and all, but when it ended.. She took it bad, then made it her mission to take me down.”

“What a bitch.” she spat through teeth clenched in pain.

Sam chuckled softly. “You don’t even know her.”

“Doesn’t make it less bullshit.” she answered. Sam nodded, not that she saw it. “Jesus fuck!” she cried out, body jerking away from him.

“Hold still.” He put a hand on her shoulder to hold her in place.

“Where is my bloody daughter!” came a booming voice from downstairs. “Del!” A moment later, Sam’s bedroom door burst open. “Love?”

“Hi, daddy.” she breathed out.

“Oh, love.” He stepped towards her, taking her face in his hand, making her look up at him. “Are you alright, Darling?”

“I will be. Right?” she asked Sam, not taking her eyes off her father, though she hissed again.

“Yeah, went right through. As long as you keep it clean and take it easy, you should be good.”

The man turned his gaze to Sam. “Who the bloody hell are you and why is my daughter half-”

“Daddy.” she cut him off, and he looked at her again. “He’s the doctor Del’s been using. He’s taking good care of me, I promise.” She shifted again, her shoulder moving as she winced in pain.

“Do you not have anything for the bloody pain?” he snapped.

“You’re going to need to see someone with a license for that.” Sam answered curtly as he finished and wiped the area clean again. “But I might have something leftover in the bag. No promises though. Del knows what to look for. Del?” Sam called out.

“On it, doc.” he answered, rushing in from where he’d been standing outside the door. Del rooted through the bag while Sam bandaged up her back. “Lucky you, three left.” Del held up the prescription bottle and rattled them around. “One or two?”

“One.” Sam finished up with her back and turned his attention to the wound in the front.

“I’ll get you some water.” Del told her after handing her the pill. He left the room and a minute later returned with a bottle of water from Sam’s fridge.

“Nothing stronger, huh?” she teased, taking the bottle.

“Not while on those, no.” Sam shut her down. “Ready for round two?”

Knocking back the pill with a mouthful of water, she took a moment after swallowing to nod at Sam. “Yeah. I think I am.”

Sam was washing his hands in the en suite while the girl in his room changed out of her dress. “Sorry I don’t have anything that fits you better.”

“It’s fine.” she called back. “Not easy getting dressed with this, though.”

“Do you need help?” Sam’s head turned a touch more towards the door, though he remained focused on getting the blood out from under his nails.

“I think I got it..”

Once his hands were clean, Sam waited, his ass leaning on the bathroom counter. It was quiet. “You good?”

“Give me a damn minute.” she snapped. “Buttons are hard when you can barely move your arm.”

Sam chuckled. “I can help with those. You decent enough?”

“I guess.” she muttered, glancing up when the door opened.

When Sam saw her, he did his best not to let it affect him. He tried to keep his face schooled as he crossed the room and reached for the buttons. She’d gotten two in the middle done, but the rest remained open and she did her best to clutch the shirt closed since her bra was now as trash as her dress. He tried to focus on the material between his fingers, and not on the girl staring up at him. Sam licked his lips as he did one button after the other.

“Love.” Her father's voice sounded from behind Sam. “Let’s go, we’re leaving.”

“I think I should stick with the doc, daddy.” she answered, never looking away from Sam.

“Not bloody happening.” he snapped.

“Who better to take care of me and my wound?” she answered, using logic as Sam finished up the buttons. “I mean, if it gets infected, or it gets re-opened, you’re just going to call him in to fix it, right? I might as well stay for a few days. You know, until it’s healed enough for me to do things on my own.” Finally tearing her eyes away from Sam she looked to her father. “Who’s going to help me at home? Del? You want him helping me out of my jammies at night, daddy?” He narrowed his eyes at her. “What about in the shower? Would you like Del to-”

“Enough.” he snapped.

“The doc is profesh, daddy. One hundred percent. Didn’t even try a glance at my tits once.”

“You touch my daughter and-”

“I got it.” Sam answered. “She’ll have her own room and you can visit any time.”

“Like I’d let you bloody stop me.” he growled out at Sam. “You’ll call, love?”

“Like clockwork, daddy.” She smiled innocently at him. With a grunt, the man left, and Sam hoped he took the others with him. He wanted to freely move around his own space again without bumping into some suit with a gun. “Can’t believe he agreed to it.” she chuckled.

“I feel like I know him.. Like I’ve seen him before.” Sam mused as he started stripping his bed of blood soaked linens.

“You are our doctor.” She pointed out, moving to stand aside and watch him.

He shook his head. “I’ve never seen anyone higher than Del.” Sam answered. “I don’t even know who’s above him, who I technically work for. I get paid for no questions.”

“I noticed.” she pointed to his dresser, and when he turned, he saw what he expected to be his usual wad of cash payment. “My father is who you work for, technically.” her eyes were back on Sam again. “His birth name, back in Scotland was Fergus MacLeod.”

Sam’s brow furrowed as he yanked off the fitted sheet to join the rest. “Never heard of him.”

“You might know him by another name. When he came to America, he chose a new one. Crowley.” Sam froze, turning to look at her. That's a name everyone knew, and everyone knew to avoid it. “Welcome to the family.” she gave him a half smile. “Now, are you really going to make me stay in a different room than you?”

“Yes!”

“Bummer.” she pouted before heading out to explore the rest of his home.

*If you like this, please consider supporting my work*

Tagging : Sam - @evyiione

SPN - @sandlee44 @just-another-busy-fangirl @mrswhozeewhatsis @deanandsamsbitch @deans-baby-momma @thebescht @67-chevy-baby @supraveng @musiclovinchic93 @holyfuckloueh @ksgeekgirl @hobby27 @maddiepants @roxyspearing @onethirstyunicorn @fandom-princess-forevermore @kalesrebellion @deanwanddamons

All tags - @sorenmarie87 @artemisthebadger @winchesterprincessbride @iflostreturntosteverogers @akfonkin @rebelminxy @foxyjwls007 @onethirstyunicorn @shaelyn102 @supernaturalenchanted @kazkingdom @babypink224221 @emoryhemsworth @ilovefanfic86 @pie-with-hunters @deanmonandnegansbitch @lazinessisalliknow @feelmyroarrrr @letsdisneythings @cdwmtjb8 @notyourtypicalrose @xostephanie @marvelmenmusicandroses @ilovedeanspie @defenderrosetyler @amandamdiehl

#sam winchester bingo #doctor!sam #sam x reader #sam winchester fic #reader insert #sam #sam fic #sam winchester #au #sam au #spn #spnfic #spn au #supernatural #supernatural fic #superntural au #mob au #doctor au #mafia au

69 notes · View notes

petri808 · 4 years ago

Text

Bakudeku 31 days of winter ice skating prompt

No one is willing to work with rich but hot-headed pairs skater Katsuki Bakugou, but he needs a partner if he wants a second shot at the Olympics. His coach is desperate and finds former hockey player Izuku Midoriya who was injured at the last Olympics and can no longer play who agrees to give it a shot. The journey pushes Katsuki to change his ways so he doesn’t lose the one partner who gives him a second chance.

It’s generally based on the movie The Cutting Edge. Angst & Fluffy AU. 10K Modern AU

“This is ridiculous!” Katsuki snaps at his coach while pointing to Izuku. “He can’t be the best option! He’s not even a figure skater! And what’s with the hair! It’s a fucking mess! Where are you from, the slums?! Baggy flannel, really?! You look like a hobo! What about that Iida guy I told you to get?! Or Kaminari?! Someone that’s at least in the fucking right sport?!”

Coach Eijiro Kirishima pinches his brow and sighs, “no one else is willing to work with you after your behavior at the last competition. So, it’s this or give up your chance at next year’s competition.”

As the two men argued, Izuku Midoriya just stood there confused in the doorway of a large expense home. All he knew, is the coach had contacted him and offered a generous paycheck to skate again with a partner. It wasn’t ideal and he had no experience with figure skating. But the check cleared, and he needed the money badly. After a devastating injury on the ice sidelined his hockey career, life was a struggle. It took six months just to heal and medical bills needed to be paid. He’d assumed Katsuki Bakugou knew what the coach was up to... but apparently not. “Um, Eijiro, if he really doesn’t want me here, I’ll leave.” Just seeing the explosive attitude Katsuki is exhibiting is making him nervous.

“No, no,” Eijiro moves back to Izuku, while glaring at Katsuki, “he does, he just doesn’t realize it yet.”

“Pfft!” Katsuki sneers back.

“O—kay.” This is going to be interesting...

Maybe interesting is the wrong word, hair-pulling is more like it. Katsuki’s parents are rich, hence the mansion he’s now rooming in and to top it all off the guy has a personal ice-skating rink! An ice-skating rink! No wonder Katsuki was such a brat! But— the man is good, like really good on the ice... Katsuki’s skill as a figure skater is breathtaking to watch as he glided across the smooth white surface. Elegant, strong, and very handsome. But then the man opens his mouth, shattering the fantasy, and Izuku remembers who he’s really dealing with.

“Argh! Get it right Deku! Toe pick! Toe pick! Toe pick! Fucking learn how to use it! Two fucking weeks and your still face planting!”

“I’m sorry, okay! We don’t use toe picks in hockey!”

“This is not gonna work Eijiro!” Katsuki snaps at the coach. “I’m done today! Come get me when he fucking learns how to skate!”

The two men watch Katsuki storm out of the building. Izuku flinches at the sound of the door slamming shut. “Sorry Eijiro. I had no idea figure skating is this difficult.”

“You’re doing fine Izuku. Just keep practicing. You’ll get it soon.”

Izuku was never a quitter and no matter how much his hot-headed partner put him down, it only fueled his drive to get better. Early every morning he would wake up and skate until his legs hurt, then he’d ice them down at night, and start the process again in the morning. In hockey, elegant wasn’t necessary and being a little sloppy on the ice didn’t matter because you were too busy keeping from being slammed up against bodies or walls. But if there was one thing, he truly hadn’t anticipated was the physical prowess required for figure skating. When you watch the sport on tv, no offense, but those skinny bodies in tight leotards doesn’t make one think of powerhouses... until you attempt to pull off the technical moves that they do and learn really quickly how hard the ice can be on a human frame. If Izuku thought his injuries from a hockey match were brutal, figure skating is quickly tallying up the bruises and cuts to take the lead.

It’s been six months into the training and Izuku was growing curious as to what had caused Katsuki to lose his former partner. Eijiro was hesitant to tell him but did lead him towards where to find the answer. So, late one evening, Izuku pulls up YouTube and punches in the description the coach had given him. The results were... surprising to say the least and frankly shocked him because the partner he’d grown to know just didn’t fit what he was seeing. He closes the app and tucks the information away for the time being. It wasn’t worth focusing on the past if he wanted to get through the present. He just needed to buckle down and practice so that when the nationals arrive in 5 months, he’ll be ready.

As the smaller of the two, it’s decided that Katsuki would be the base and Izuku would perform the lifts. Such an act requires a lot of skill in balance and trust which wasn’t exactly the partners forte at the moment.

“Kacchan, we need to practice you lifting me up.” Kacchan is his new nickname for Katsuki. He didn’t know if the man really liked it, but he’s never stopped him from using it.

“You’re not ready,” the man replies curtly.

“That’s why we need to practice!”

“And what, break your neck?! Izuku, you ain’t ready yet!”

“Katsuki, he is ready,” Eijiro counters. “And Izuku is right, you both need to practice the moves in order for it to be spot on. If you’re afraid—“

“I’m not fucking afraid! Fine! You wanna practice, well practice, but don’t you tell me I’m afraid of tossing his ass in the air!”

Three more months, that’s all the time they had left to get two routines down perfect. A short program and a long program. Just trying to remember all the moves is hard enough, but having to execute them in synchronized patterns, smooth transitions, with elegant refinement, someone please remind Izuku why he took the job again?! As a partner, Katsuki is such an asshole to work with. There were so many moments when Izuku questioned his sanity in staying. The money was helpful, but is it really worth the abuse? And yet... there were also the moments when Katsuki might say something nice or a random ‘good job’ to Izuku that made him think, maybe Eijiro was right after all. Maybe Katsuki just needed the right partner. One who’s able to handle his outbursts and see through the hardened facade he shows to the world. It might have been lonely growing up as only child... Izuku should know since he’s an only child. But he grew up surrounded by neighborhood kids. Perhaps Katsuki had been isolated in this mansion for most of his life, because that certainly would stunt his social abilities.

The month before the competition was a whirlwind of activities. Grueling practices, costume fittings... Katsuki was monitoring what Izuku ate and how much sleep he was getting, like a paranoid mother. It got so strange, that Katsuki moved Izuku out of the guest room and into his own in order to watch him more carefully. Granted that Katsuki had a California king sized bed with a lot of space, but it was still awkward for Izuku to share it with him! What if he snored or rolled— sometimes he moved in his sleep. Plus, Katsuki was an early sleeper while he was a night owl. They are such opposites in personality and behavior. The first night fried his nerves so badly Izuku barely slept, only to be cussed out the next morning because he couldn’t focus during practice.

“Kacchan, please, I rather sleep in the guest room!”

“I don’t care what you want, this tells me I need to keep a closer eye on you.”

Izuku groaned and pushed away off the ice to get lunch. He knew there was no arguing with Katsuki unless he was ready for a fight. Wasn’t getting a restful night of sleep the better idea if he was so worried?!

Their afternoon practice did nothing to help his frayed nerves. Katsuki was acting so strange lately. When he talked it’s more like screaming at him, but when they trained... Katsuki’s touch was gentle? Intimate. ‘Duh’that’s what pairs skating is! Izuku chides himself. Like a dance of two lovers on a floor of ice. ‘Sex on ice... Stop it!’ Izuku couldn’t stop the heat flooding to his cheeks. ‘Don’t think like that!’ Ugh, he groaned again, now the mental image is going to torture him and if things couldn’t be worse, Katsuki saw him blushing to himself looking like a weirdo. Thankfully, all it gained was a raised eyebrow. Izuku is gay, but Katsuki isn’t the type of guy he normally went for and he swore he saw a photo in the man’s bedroom of a woman.

Putting aside all the crazy thoughts, Izuku finishes the day without invoking anymore of Katsuki’s wrath. They had dinner quietly before he was forced to go to bed at 9pm. Izuku prepared for another sleepless night as he lay there stiff on his side facing away from the other male. There was almost 2 feet between them, so he tried to pretend he was all alone, just him in a strange bed. Like at a hotel on the very first night and you’re still adjusting to its nuances. It was a comfortable bed, probably expensive with soft, silky sheets, and even the pillows were some fancy memory foam type. Perhaps it was sheer exhaustion, for after a short amount of time, Izuku fell asleep while running the choreography through his mind.

‘Wow it’s really hot today...’ Izuku stirred unconsciously from the dream and pushed the blanket down to his torso. ‘Maybe Yagi will let me go home from work early today, cause it’s exhausting to hang drywall on days like this.’ Izuku tries to turn around but he couldn’t. Panic set in the dream, and the walls closed in around him. ‘What’s going on?!’ He was working and now he’s trapped! Izuku pushes the wall with his back only to feel pressure increase around his body. “What the?!” It instantly snaps his mind awake and suddenly the construction site turned into the dark room of Katsuki’s bedroom.

“Stop... f’ing... moving...” the gravelly voice mumbles right next to his ear!

Izuku’s eyes blow wide as he looks down and sees the arm around his torso, registers that the heat he’d experienced in his dream was Katsuki! ‘Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!’ Why was Katsuki spooned up to him?! With every breath from the sleeping man blowing along his neck and down his back, every fiber in his body shivered, sending too many electrical pulses misfiring and blood rushing to the wrong places! Katsuki hadn’t just rolled too close, this was an intimate embrace! This couldn’t be real! Izuku tries to pry the man’s arm away gently without waking him only to have his ass grabbed by Katsuki’s other hand.

“Go the fuck to sleep, Deku.”

Izuku squeals. He can’t take this anymore. They weren’t that kind of partners. “K-Kacchan! Wh-What, why?!

“Can’t you just take the hint and go with it. I don’t do the whole flirting nonsense.”

“Oh, my god.” Izuku breathes out, he’s serious! And though a part of him gravitated to the idea of having this handsome partner in a relationship, Izuku worried mixing business with pleasure would blow up at some point. “Kacchan. I’m flattered, more than you might know, but I think we should just be partners on the ice.”

There was silence for several minutes and Izuku started to wonder if Katsuki had fallen back asleep and didn’t hear what he’d said. But it was the calm before the storm. Without warning, Izuku was pushed so hard from behind, he flew off the bed and landed hard on the ground. “GET OUT!!” Katsuki raged. “Get the fuck out of my room! Get the fuck out of my house!”

Izuku couldn’t see the man on the bed through the darkness but could almost feel the anger on top of the sound. One pillow, two pillow landing close to where he lay on the floor, then a lamp crashes on top of his hip. Izuku screams, scrambling up despite the pain and stumbling for the door.

“I-I’m sorry Kacchan—.”

“Get the fuck out!! I don’t wanna see here you in the morning!”

Izuku wiped away blinding tears as he packed up his few belongings to leave the mansion in the dead of night. He’d paused at Katsuki’s bedroom door on his way out; was the man crying behind it? It was hard to image the hot head crying but those were clearly the sounds of sobbing coming through. Izuku hung his head, fuck! He really messed up this time. But what could he do? Katsuki told him to go, and this was his house. He writes a quick note and slips it under the coaches door before taking a cab to the train station. The competition was only 2 weeks away, what about that? Is Katsuki going to throw away his chance to compete? Then again, people do crazy things because of emotions.

When he arrives at the station, Izuku find out that the next train to his town won’t arrive for another 6 hours. Just great. None of the food stalls were open at 2am, so he drops onto one of the benches and uses his duffle bag as a pillow. He sets the alarm on his phone and tries to get some sleep... that doesn’t come easily. Could he have handled the situation better? Okay, it wasn’t fair to blame him for making Katsuki cry. It’s not like the man gave any indication he was interested in Izuku in a romantic sense. Who does that?! Just forces someone to sleep in their bed and surprises them by spooning up in the middle of the night?! “just take the hint...” “Argh!” Izuku curls to his side and covers his face to block out the light. ‘This is not my fault! Stupid Kacchan!’ Tomorrow will be a new day. He’ll go home and just start over. Who needs Katsuki...........

“Wake up Izuku.”

“Ugh... go away,” Izuku groans and slaps away the hand shaking him.

“Izuku, get up. I’m here to take you back to the mansion.”

Wait, what?! Izuku opens his eyes, this can’t be happening. “Eijiro?!” He sits up, shaking his head and waving his hands to wipe away the man’s statement. “Please no! I don’t wanna go back there.”

“Look, I don’t know what exactly happened, and Katsuki isn’t telling me anything, but if you leave now all that work is for nothing and you don’t strike me as a quitter.”

Izuku shakes his head. “I’m not, but I don’t see how Katsuki would be willing to be partners. It’ll be uncomfortable for both of us.”

“He has no choice. This year’s national’s determines who goes to the Olympics.”

“What?!”

Eijiro grins. “Oh, did I forget to mention that?”

“Um, yeah! I-I signed up to— you know I was already concerned about nationals but now you’re telling me this is for a bid to the Olympics?! No! No! N-O, no way. I-I’m barely hanging on as is keeping up with figure skating!”

“Izuku think about it this way. You’ve both had a shot at the Olympics that were dashed. This is your second chance.”

“What do you mean both? Katsuki’s competed in the Olympics?”

“Yeah, the same year as you. I was surprised you didn’t recognize him.”

“I didn’t pay attention to the other sports because I was too busy worrying about my team.”

“Well,” Eijiro asks again. “Don’t you wanna have a second shot at gold?”

“Pfft,” Izuku sighs, “let’s just see if I can survive nationals.”

“Wonderful! Come on,” Eijiro grabs Izuku’s bag, “breakfasts on me.”

When they arrive at the mansion and walk into the house, Katsuki is standing in the living room with his arms crossed just glaring death daggers. Izuku gulps hard as he stands behind Eijiro who’d told him to let him handle Katsuki when they arrived. He was ready for the cursing, but the man just stood there.

“A-Are you sure it’ll be okay?” Izuku quietly questioned the coach. “He’s not gonna kill me in my sleep?”

“Well, at least not until after nationals.” Eijiro stared at Katsuki as he spoke. “Because he knows he has no choice.”

“Tch,” Katsuki stomps away.

‘This is gonna be a lo—ng 3 weeks!’

Excruciating to be exact. If there’s something that became brutally clear through this year to Izuku, is that in pairs skating, the chemistry between the skaters plays a role in how well they are received. They could be as technically perfect as required, but they won’t win over the audience and possibly even the judges if you can’t ‘feel’ their routine.

Their practices became mundane and performances, robotic. Katsuki didn’t touch Izuku in the same ways he had before, and he was noticing it more than ever. He realized the night Katsuki had made a move wasn’t the first time after all. Katsuki had been flirting with Izuku in his own subtle way, but he’d never caught on to it. That made Izuku feel even worse, but he also couldn’t go back on what he’d said because he meant it. Risking a relationship meant risking their careers. If they could just get through nationals and make the top 2 spots, they’ll get into the Olympics next year. So, despite the emotionless aspect of their routine, it was as good as they were going to get it to, and they were ready to take the risk...

But it still hurt.

The backstage area of the skating arena was a mad house with all the competing singles and pairs skaters cordoned off in their own dressing areas. Katsuki’s parents spared no expense on a team to get them ready. Perfect outfits, hair, and makeup to make them pop for the cameras. They looked amazing in their complimentary outfits, a perfect couple by design in every way except reality.

Ever since the night of the fight, Katsuki only spoke to Izuku as necessary in gruff tones. He would even look in his direction and never made eye contact during the practices. Eijiro tried so hard to talk to him. ‘You need to sell the illusion Katsuki. No one’s gonna buy your routine if you won’t even look at the man!’ But the hot head was unflinching in his stubbornness. His face would be towards Izuku, but his eyes looked elsewhere, and smiles were non-existent.

They were next in line, so the runners called them to the waiting area. As the pair stood and watched the performance going on before them, Izuku noticed Katsuki’s expressions growing angrier and angrier. It was his old partner with a new partner doing an amazing routine. Izuku recognized the man from the YouTube video as Shouto Todoroki and his female partner was fairly new to this level of the sport, named Momo Yaoyorozu. Had they been a couple, Izuku started to wonder, is that why Katsuki was so angry? Shouto and Momo’s scores elevated them straight to the number one position.

As they walked off the ice, both skaters smiled and nodded to Izuku, who returned the gesture with a bright smile. He had nothing against them even though they were rivals.

“No hard feelings Katsuki,” Shouto stuck out a hand.

But Katsuki slapped it away, “fuck off ice boy.”

Izuku immediately steps between them. “Sorry, K-Kacchan is just stressed.”

“Don’t talk to them Deku!” Katsuki grabs his hand and pulls him towards the ice.

As Izuku does as he’s told, he sees Shouto shaking his head in pity and he couldn’t blame the guy. Shouto seemed genuine, but it was Katsuki being the asshole. Needless to say, going into a routine angry was not the best idea.

“Kacchan, please,” speaking softly, Izuku begged one last time as they took up their positions. “Because you look too angry.”

“Don’t worry about me and just make sure you don’t screw up!”

‘Argh!’ “Got it.”

If there was one good thing, he could say about Katsuki, is the man is a machine and once the music starts, he’s all business, executing each step with precision like nothing was bothering him. Izuku too, stayed on track, meeting and exceeding his own expectations. He had been so worried that when the pressure really hit, he’d freeze up, make mistakes, and cost them this opportunity. The routine ends right on point to the wild sounds of clapping in the audience. It takes them a few moments to catch their breath before breaking apart. He tries and is rebuffed by Katsuki to hold hands as they bowed. Nevertheless, Izuku catches himself and plays it off, not wanting to appear unhappy for the judges. He thought they’d done an amazing job! At no point can he remember either making a mistake. Everything was right on point, especially the moves that carried the highest point values. They had to get 1st place! But when they stepped into the waiting box as the scores are tallied and posted, it wasn’t to be. The technical points were flawless, but the judges ranked them lower in components score... clearly the judges saw well and clear this pair was not a matching pair at all.

Katsuki storms away to the backstage area livid.

“This is all your fault Izuku!”

“My fault!” Oh, that’s it, Izuku wasn’t gonna hold back anymore. “I warned you, Eijiro warned you! You’re fucking attitude is what killed us! Every—body sees what an asshole you are except you!” He flails his arms in contempt. “A spoiled brat that can’t handle being told no!”

“You fucking take that back!” Katsuki lunges at Izuku who counters and pushes him away.

“I’m done!” Izuku screams and starts to walk away but turns back. “Oh, and for the record. I saw your last skate and Shouto did nothing wrong. You screwed up, you! Your hand slipped in the lift. No wonder you can’t keep a partner!”

Katsuki is so shocked, his mouth slams shut.

Eijiro tries to keep Izuku from leaving, but he’s done. They were in 3rd place and the odds of the last pair screwing up was slim to none because they were also former Olympic level skaters. But just as Izuku steps away they hear it over the PA, “oh, no! She fell!”

Their coach turns excitedly to the two men, “we are in!”

“No, we are not,” Izuku states matter of fact and walks away. This time he really is done. Done with all the fights and uncomfortable, complicated emotions. Going back to the Olympics would have been... the tears well up, but he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, before continuing his stride out of the room. It would have been amazing, but he’s not turning around this time. He can hear Eijiro calling his name. He can hear the sound of something smashing against the wall... it won’t change his mind. If Katsuki can’t change his attitude, then why should he have to put up with it? It’s not fair to him. A part of him once gave the man the benefit of doubt, but perhaps Izuku should have taken a hint from all the partners of his past. Katsuki Bakugou will never change. His arrogance destroys all of his relationships, and that’s not the kind of man Izuku wants anything to do with.

He grabs his belonging from the hotel room, checks out and goes straight to the airport without looking back. The whole ride home, Izuku sat in first class with his cap kept down low to avoid human interaction. It was a four-hour flight back to the mansion and his plans were to grab all of his stuff and leave before Katsuki and Eijiro could get home too. A whole year wasted... Izuku cried softly to himself in the darkened cab of the plane. Now he’ll just go back home to Minnesota and pick up where he’d left off. Going back to working with his brother in construction wasn’t the worst thing. At least he wouldn’t have to put up with being yelled at all the time or being treated like shit. And hey, he could figure skate now! Maybe he’ll find a new partner like Shouto had done. Oh, that would piss Katsuki off so bad! Izuku snorts a small laugh. He never considered himself the vindictive type, but the thought made him laugh at least.

Back home, Katsuki stood in the empty doorway to the room Izuku was using, quiet, his head lowered, not listening to the words Eijiro was saying to him. They’d arrived at the silent mansion and deep down he knew Izuku wouldn’t be there, but that didn’t make the pain hurt any less. They’d hidden the fight from the media and Olympics committee, so as far as the world knew, they would be representing the United States in pairs skating.

“We’ll need to find a replacement Katsuki... we’ll just make up a story that Izuku got an injury or something to smooth it over.”

But Katsuki doesn’t respond to the coach and simply walks away, slamming his bedroom door closed. He falls back against it, slumping down to the floor with his knees up, arms wrapped around them and his head down. This wasn’t the first-time people have walked away from him, fought with him, but Izuku was different from all the rest and when that man walked away without looking back, Katsuki felt something he’d never experienced before. Problem was, he didn’t know what it was! And so, his only recourse was to resort to what he knew which is anger. He’d smashed the makeup case against the wall and broke a mirror with the costume stand.

How dare Izuku stand up to him like that?! As far as he was concerned, he built that man into a figure skater, gave him a new career path better than some stupid construction job! This was an opportunity of a lifetime! He’d even offered Izuku a chance to be his boyfriend, doesn’t he realize what an honor that is?! Katsuki knows exactly how good he is, and any man or woman would kill to have him as their boyfriend! Yet this guy turns him down?! Ridiculous! Just walks away from going to the Olympics?! His fist is clenched so tight, he can feel the pain of his nails digging into the palm. He was so angry! So furious! So... destroyed... Izuku turned his back on him. Fuck him! Fuck— why does he care so damn much! He’ll just get a new partner. He’ll make someone else’s dreams come true...

But he didn’t want anyone else...

No, fuck that! Katsuki jumps to his feet. Izuku was beneath him. How could he have every thought this man could fit into his circle? The guy was a former hockey player from some rural town, while he came from wealth for fucks sakes! Yeah, fuck him! Know what?! Fuck everybody!

Katsuki pulls out his phone and dials his mother. “I’m going on vacation for two weeks... no. Not with him, we— I’m going alone cause I need a break!” Click Next, he calls an airlines and books the first flight to anywhere, he didn’t care where, he just wanted to leave that night. The only option for first class was Hawaii. Oh, good, they had a vacation home there anyways. Katsuki packs a carry-on of just essentials, too irritated to pack a full suitcase. He can buy more clothes when he gets there. Before he leaves, he writes a note for Eijiro with explicit instructions not to contact him until he returned. He slips it under the man’s door then takes his car to the airport since his driver is off for the rest of the night. This whole year left him emotionally unstable, so maybe some beach time and relaxation was the cure.

It was early in the morning by the time Katsuki had arrived at their vacation home on the picturesque Kohala Coast of the Big Island of Hawaii. He’d called ahead for a limo service to pick him up and drive him the 50-odd miles from the airport in Kailua Kona, and the groundskeeper to prep the house for his arrival. His plan was to do nothing but drink, relaxing alone, and to sort out whatever it was that plagued him. He’d slept for most of the ride over, but his mind would keep going back to Izuku. He tosses his bag onto his bed and walks straight to the kitchen for a shot of something, anything he didn’t care.

“ARGH!!!” Katsuki growls in the empty house. “Why the fuck can’t I stop thinking about him!!!” He takes a longer swig of the hard liquor before capping it off and heading the shower. It’s been about 36+ hours since his last one before the competition.

Day in and day out, Katsuki’s depression takes hold, alternating between fits of anger and crying until he passed out from the amount of liquor he’d consumed. The poor housekeeper that came each day, did her best to steer clear, cleaning up after those fits, to keeping the pantry stocked with bottles of liquor to avoid his wrath. For the life of him, Katsuki couldn’t understand why, of anything. Angry and feeling jilted by his partner. Confused as to why Izuku’s leaving hurt so damn much. He’d never experienced this level of despair before, just couldn’t fathom what was really causing it... okay, that was a lie. Katsuki knew damn well why he was so upset, but he just couldn’t bring himself to accept it. And so, he drank his emotions away, buried it under a tidal wave of alcohol and lived in a stupor of dreamless misery.

“Oh, thank goodness,” the housekeeper greeted Eijiro. “He’s passed out in his room.”

“Thank you, Ke’ala.” Eijiro thanks the woman and enters Katsuki’s bedroom. He rips the curtain open.

“Time to get up Katsuki! You need help.” The man on the bed is so drunk, he doesn’t even flinch. Eijiro pulls harder on his leg. “Get up Katsuki!”

The drunk mumbles something, then rolls onto his side. “You leave me no choice Katsuki.” Eijiro picks up the dead weight and carries him into the shower. He puts the man onto the shower floor fully clothed, then turns it on full blast, hitting him dead center in the face. That wakes Katsuki up real, quick!

“What the fuck?!” The man defends against the cold water, flailing his arms pitifully, and scrambling along the tiled floor until his back hits a wall. He wipes his face, “I told you not to contact me till I returned!”

“First off, your parents pay my bill and they’re the ones who sent me. Second, take a goddamn shower cause you stink to hell. Then meet me in the living room.” Eijiro tosses some clean clothes onto the counter and walks away without another word. He hears Katsuki swearing behind him, but he didn’t care.

Thirty minutes later an angry but sober, cleaner Katsuki walks into the living room and plops down onto a couch opposite of Eijiro who pushes a cup of hot coffee towards him. He takes the cup and starts to drink it, though his expression remained accusatory, with furrowed brows, just glaring at the coach. “What do you want Eijiro?”

“Do you even realize you’ve been gone a month?”

No... he hadn’t but, “what’s your point?” Katsuki retorts because he didn’t want to show he cared.

“Do you or don’t you want to go to the Olympics?”

“Of course, I do. But y’all were right all along. No one wants to be my partner, so guess that means I’m done.”

Eijiro sucks in a breath at the revelation. This was the first time he’d ever in their seven-year working relationship heard this man admit a failing. He was a little caught off guard, but in a good way. “Katsuki,” Eijiro sighs, “is this the first time you’ve ever been in love?”

Katsuki puts his cup down and leans forward. “What did you just say to me?!”

“You heard me. Just admit it, you’re in love with Izuku Midoriya.”

“Get out!” Katsuki jumps up and points at the door.

“I’m not leaving. The only way to get past this is to accept the fact you’re in love and because he left you, you’re angry and confused. You pushed him away— admit it to yourself for once in your life and just own up to it!

“I-I’m not in love with Izuku!” His hands fly up and grip to the sides of his head. All of this commotion and the emotions coupled with a hangover is creating a storm of a headache. “I’m not! I’m not! I’m not!” He shakes his head as tears start to flow. “Why is this happening to me?! I-I can’t be in love with him!” Katsuki’s hands drop, but flail in front of him. “And so, what if I am, he turned me down! I have nothing to go back to, no Olympics, no Izuku, just an empty mansion, so just let me drink myself into oblivion!” He drops back onto the couch, cradling his face in his hands as the dam of tears burst free. “Just leave me alone, please.”

Eijiro gets up and kneels in front of Katsuki, placing a hand on the man’s knee. “It’s not too late to fix things. Izuku is angry because of how you treated him, but he doesn’t hate you.”

“You don’t know that,” he grumps back.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure about it. In fact, I’m quite certain he likes you too, but the way you handled approaching him, scared him. Katsuki, relationships... they require honesty, sincerity. You can’t force someone to love you. You have to make them feel loved and appreciated.”

“I don’t... know how. I don’t know what he wants! A-And I’m not good at showing my emotions.”

“Why don’t you try talking to him? Be honest with him and tell him how you feel.”

Katsuki pauses for several minutes as if his coaches words are truly sinking in. Is it really possible? Could he do it? But he’d been such an asshole to Izuku, who in their right mind would give him a second chance. Because he certainly would not... and maybe that was part of his problem. He couldn’t handle the rejection, and so he did what he knew how to do which is lash out, and that’s exactly what he did to Izuku. Katsuki sighs forlornly, “I don’t deserve a second chance.”

“Everyone deserves a second chance Kacchan.”

Katsuki’s heart stops at the sound of Izuku’s soft voice, too afraid to even look up and confirm it wasn’t a figment of his imagination. If Izuku was really here, does that mean he’d heard and saw everything from the moment Eijiro had arrived too?!

Eijiro squeezes Katsuki’s knee. “When I told Izuku what we saw you doing here, he agreed to help bring you home.”

“S-Saw?” Katsuki closes his eyes and whispers.

“This place has security cameras. So, after three weeks had passed by and you still hadn’t come home, your parents pulled up the footage and showed it to me. If I knew things were this bad, I would have come sooner.”

Katsuki’s eyes only tighten when he feels the cushion next to him depress, and the scent of Izuku’s cologne hit him, to block a new wave of tears from escaping. He had no idea how much of the footage they’d seen, but it was highly likely they’d seen the days and weeks passing by with Katsuki drinking almost non-stop. He barely ate or took care of his personal hygiene, because he’d stopped caring, and all he wanted to do was numb his pain.

“Kacchan... I didn’t mean for you to hurt yourself like this. I was— still am upset about things, but like Eijiro said, I don’t hate you and if you’re willing to work with me, like a real partner, then... then I’ll come back. But we need to set some rules, like respect. You can’t keep yelling at me and expect me to stick around.”

Katsuki looks up. “But why would you give me a second chance?”

Izuku blushes and voice softens, “because Eijiro is right. I do have a small crush on you.” But when he sees Katsuki’s face brighten, he quickly adds to his statement. “I-I’m still torn about it, s-so please don’t take that as I wanna jump into a romantic relationship right now. I’m the kind of guy that likes some sentiment, to be wooed or swept off their feet. It’s gotta build up to a point where I’ll be comfortable with the idea, because mixing business with pleasure scares me. Just look at what happened when I turned you down. It ruined everything.”

“I guess I never thought of it that way,” Katsuki breathes out. “This is all new territory to me, and I really don’t know how to handle it.”

“See, this is great!” Eijiro cuts in. “You guys are talking like civilized people, it’s wonderful.”

“Are you done?” Katsuki grumps.

“That depends if you’re ready to start fresh and get back to training together?”

“Kacchan?” Izuku looks over beside him. “I’m willing.”

Katsuki sighs, his heart desperately wants to, but he knows it won’t be easy to control his feelings for Izuku. “I’ll give it a try.”

The trio spends one more week in Hawaii, to give Katsuki time to fully recover from all the alcohol consumption as well as simply enjoy a Hawaii vacation. It was the first time Izuku had ever been to Hawaii and wow, he couldn’t get enough of all the food choices! And the sunsets were just stunning, glistening off of the water! So many colors, it was like heaven greeting earth each clear day.

“I’ll bring you back here on vacation,” Katsuki tells Izuku one day as they’re roaming the Waikoloa shops. “I mean, if you want to.”

Surprised, but happy by the gesture. “That’d be really nice Kacchan.” Since they had to stay longer than expected, Katsuki insisted on buying Izuku some clothes and souvenirs to take back home. He tried to refuse, but the man wasn’t taking no for an answer. It was the least he could do, was the reply for putting up with him. Katsuki also refused to step into any shop he deemed of low quality, so the King’s Shops at Waikoloa is where they went. Tori Richard’s, Tommy Bahama, and Michael Korrs, all places Izuku would never have shopped at.

As they sat in the dining room of Roy’s Waikoloa bar & grill, Izuku stares out over the manmade lake next to the shopping center. He’d adjusted to fancier food because that’s all Katsuki’s cook would make but sitting there with the man in a restaurant was a totally new experience. It was really nice, and for possibly the first time since they’d met a year ago, Izuku relaxed.

He didn’t expect a miracle, or for Katsuki to suddenly change overnight for that would be unfair, but as long as the man tried, Izuku wouldn’t leave like he’d done before. Oh, but was it tough in the beginning! In Hawaii, Katsuki could control his outbursts, but the moment the pressures of training kicked in, so to, did his old personality. Unlike before, Izuku was quicker to say something, telling him to stop before he says something he’ll regret. It seemed to do the trick. The man would stop and move on. After a month, Katsuki started to catch himself, literally mid-sentence stop, and walk away. Izuku wished he’d be more open with him instead of running away, but it was definitely an improvement. By the third month back, he even apologized. Izuku remembered the first time Katsuki said sorry and after a moment of shock, he smiled and said it was okay.

But there was one thing he hoped would come back. He still remembers the heated tingles he’d feel when Katsuki would hold him in positions. It was lost after their fight, and the man almost seemed, afraid, to touch him in the wrong way. Afraid he would make Izuku uncomfortable and risk chasing him away again. He didn’t know how to convey such a desire without confusing Katsuki and opening up a door he wasn’t ready to walk through yet. So, Izuku kept his mouth closed and focused on encouraging the man to keep improving on his social skills.

With six months left until the Olympics, the pair had their short program already choreographed and perfected. That left the long program, and the most important skate of their careers left to solidify. It was a skaters last opportunity to showcase a brilliant program and garner the highest amount of points possible.

“We need a showstopper, something new, something so damn amazing the judges will have no choice but to give us the win!” Katsuki tells Eijiro. “Whatever you need, choreographers to help you, I’ll get it.”

“Well...” the man picks a folder up from his desk, tapping it in his hand before opening it and pulling out a few sheets. He walks over to the ice where the two men were standing, slowly placing each sheet down onto the ice as he spoke. “There is one thing that my old mentor passed down. It’s never been used— because the difficulty level makes it quite impossible.”

Izuku picks up the first sheet, “it’s basically a bounce, spin into a toss, spin?”

“That’s illegal,” Katsuki looks over the man’s shoulder at the paper. “We can’t do an illegal move!”

“Legal, illegal, it’s more of a gray area,” Eijiro clarifies, “just extremely difficult.”

The longer Izuku stares at it, the worse the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. “K-Kacchan would have to spin me like a centrifuge, throw me, then catch me...” he mumbled out as the blood drains from his face. “This defies the laws of gravity and if he slips...” he doesn’t finish the sentence, but the image in his head was of a face scraped off and bloody.

“It takes a lot of skill, a lot of practice, and above all trust between the partners.”

“I don’t know...” Izuku mumbles.

“I think we can do it. Hell yeah! This would win us gold! Come on Izu, don’t you wanna win?!”

“Of course, I do, but—.”

Katsuki grabs Izukus hands, holding them firmly with such excitement behind his eyes and a sultry charm to his voice. “I really think we can do this together.”

“O-Okay,” Izuku melts under Katsuki’s sway. “I believe in you.”

“No. I believe in us.”

Izuku’s eyes widen, his heartbeat speeds up, and all those tingles rush over him. Their eyes meet and hold as seconds silently pass. The cold air of the room disappears, replaced by the warmth centered from their conjoined hands. In that moment, Izuku was willing to believe, that yes, they could pull it off if they trusted each other.

Eijiro clears his throat, “I take that as a go ahead... so!” He claps his hands. “This will be incorporated as the finale of the program.”

“Way to kill the mood man.” Katsuki grumps causing Izuku to blush.

They order custom made training outfits designed to be aerodynamic but with padding in specific areas to absorb shock from falls. It was a brutal regime, especially on Izuku’s body and nothing in his past experience with hockey could compare. Rigging could only be used as they practiced the solitary spin itself, so when they practiced without it, he suffered fall after fall, tossed onto the ice when Katsuki lost his grip on Izuku’s legs. Frankly, it’s a miracle he never broke a bone, but bruises and cuts often slowed the training down. Katsuki himself added upper body workouts to strengthen and increase his ability to not only hold onto Izuku but control the spin. Remember, this is still part of a choreographed piece to music, so timing was everything. It fell on his shoulders not to screw up and miss a step. Three months into this intensive training, Izuku finally demanded a break after a particularly brutal fall that was a breath away from dislocating his right shoulder.

“I brought you dinner,” Katsuki walks into Izuku’s bedroom where he’s resting. It was wrapped by a doctor and he was told not to use that arm for the next five days just to make sure it didn’t get worse.

“Aww, thank you Kacchan.” Izuku smiles, “you didn’t have to.”

“It’s fine.” He tries to hide his blush. “I feel bad cause I messed up again.”

Izuku takes Katsuki’s hand causing the man’s blush to grow, and squeezes, smiling, and conveying more than words ever could.

With one month to go, the pair had everything in their long program down solid, except for the new move which they’ve decided to name in honor of Eijiro’s mentor, the Pamchenko. They’ve landed it twice successfully in the last two months, and the probability of sticking it under pressure at the Olympics was slim. So, with time running out they practiced a separate move instead to fill the void. It was still pretty spectacular, but not as jaw dropping.

Katsuki’s frustration had returned much to Izuku’s disappointment and he did his best not to anger the man. It sucked to be walking on pins and needles all over again, especially because being so close to the end, quitting would be crazy. Izuku just grit his teeth and ignored the man’s tirades, then cried himself to sleep some nights in his bedroom. They’d had six months of doing so well... he really thought Katsuki was changing for the better and growing into the kind of man Izuku would get into a romantic relationship with. But worst of all, is Katsuki hasn’t noticed his effect on his partner.

Izuku flops onto his bed after dinner and lets out a deep exhale, staring at the ceiling. ‘Maybe you really can’t change some people.’ Win or lose, once the Olympics was over it was time to say goodbye to Katsuki Bakugou.

There’s something to be said about the starting of the games and the walk the Olympians do. All dressed in the colors of their countries, head held high waving to the fans as their flags signal, their arrival. It’s a proud moment that such a small number of athletes in the world ever get to experience. Through blood, sweat, and tears, this was it, this is what they’d worked so hard for years to achieve. It was a second chance for he and Katsuki to shoot for their gold medal dreams. Which is really about pride not monetary gain. It’s to prove you’re the best in the world.

The morning of the short program was spent getting prepped like usual. Costumes, check. Hair and makeup, double check. Skates shined and sharpened. Music provided to the program director. There was nothing more for them to do but wait until it was their turn. Izuku focused on staying calm and not hurling up his breakfast, while Katsuki paced like a caged animal listening over the P.A. for the results as one by one each countries teams took the ice. They could go and watch the performances, but that might fry their nerves even more than it already was. Then again watching Katsuki pace wasn’t helping either, so Izuku steps out of the dressing area and into the hall for a break.

“Izuku Midoriya?” A voice spoke from his left.

“Yes?” He turns to look and smiles. “Oh, hello Mr. Todoroki. Heading up?”

“Soon. I just wanted to congratulate you on making it this far.”

“That’s really kind of you. Congratulations as well to you and Ms. Yaoyorozu.”

“Also, for surviving Katsuki. You must be quite the man to stick around.”

‘If only you knew.’ “Um, thanks,” Izuku chuckled nervously, praying that Katsuki couldn’t hear them from inside the room. “It’s been interesting to say the least.”

“So, you plan on staying his partner after this?”

Izuku pauses, debating whether to speak up or pretend nothing was wrong. But who was he kidding, Shouto had worked with Katsuki and was his partner at the last Olympics. This man would probably know if Izuku tried to lie about anything. He lowers his voice, head shaking in emphasis of his words. “No, well, I haven’t fully decided yet.”

“Well, if you don’t give me a call. I’ll help you find a new partner.”

“Oh. Wow. Thanks!”

Shouto tips his head. “Good luck to you Izuku Midoriya.”

He smiles. “Good luck to you too, Mr. Todoroki.”

The smile on Izuku’s face stays firmly planted as he watches the man walk away. Shouto Todoroki was easy on the eyes for sure, and he appreciated how nice he was unlike his own partner. Yaoyorozu was a lucky woman in more ways than one ever since they’d announced their engagement two months back. Ah, well. One day he’ll get lucky in the love department too. Still smiling to himself, Izuku goes back into the dressing room, but instead of a pacing Katsuki he finds a glaring one looking right at him.

“Kacchan, are you okay?”

Unlike in the past, the man says nothing and doesn’t respond. He can see Katsuki’s fists clenched at his sides as if he was barely controlling his anger. Had the man heard his conversation with Shouto?! Well, you know what? After all he’s been through, he didn’t care if he had. “Fine, ignore me. We’re up soon, so be ready.” Izuku walks back outside without missing a beat. He was through with Katsuki’s behaviors.

So, surprise, surprise, the short program was like a repeat of their qualifiers. Perfect technical scores, but the components... high skating skills, high transitions, compositions, and interpretations... mediocre on the performance element. Their whole vibe lacked an emotional tie to the music or each other and the judges reamed them for it. At this level of competition, when scores differed by fractions of points, the smallest misses could be your death sentence. It left them in 4th place, 2 levels below the other American team. To reach gold now required an extraordinary long program.

The limo ride was tense the entire way back to the rented villa, with Eijiro stuck in the middle of two men refusing to even look at each other. “This is why you scored low!” He snaps at them the second they walk into the front door. “You,” he points at Katsuki. “Your anger is killing this team! I had such high hopes for you both, but without the Pamchenko, it’s over!”

“Tch!” Katsuki crosses his arms, “I ain’t got no problem with that.”

Eijiro opens his mouth to counter, but it’s Izuku who snaps first. “You, selfish, spoiled brat! It’s easy for you to say cause you’re not the one taking the greatest risk and I’ve already left the Olympics once with a sidelining injury, so I’m not gonna risk it again!” Tears break free unencumbered as he walks straight up to Katsuki and slaps him as hard as he can across the face. “Just when I’d started to fall in love you reverted back to this,” motioning up and down at the shocked male, “the asshole who only cares about himself! How could someone like you ever love me?! How?!” Izuku screams at the top of his lungs... then silences his tears, “you can’t, not like this.” He runs away to his room, slamming the door, and leaving a flabbergasted Katsuki standing there like a fool.

“He’s right,” Eijiro walks up and stares him down. “All these years I’d hoped you would change— that he might be the key, but now I don’t know.” He walks away to his room too.

“Argh!!” Katsuki screams and leaves the house. Everything was falling down around him again! “Fuck!” But he knew it was all his own damn fault. He’d wanted so badly... and now to find out Izuku... “Fucking dumb fuck!” He screams at himself! How the hell does he fix this?!

The sun had not yet risen by the time Izuku and Eijiro were up and eating breakfast quietly in the kitchen area. Neither said anything, just looking down like robots programmed to follow mundane human behaviors. Katsuki’s bed was empty and it was clear he hadn’t slept in it, but no one knew where he was. The doorman told Eijiro the man had left after the fight and never returned, and he had turned off his phone. The coach was pretty certain Katsuki wouldn’t have left the area without retrieving his belongings, plus the airline ticket was still unused. So, where was he?

“We’ll go to the arena like normal,” Eijiro tells Izuku. “Hopefully Katsuki turns up.”

Izuku himself wasn’t in the best state of mind either and mindlessly nods at the coaches words. He knew the things he’d said to Katsuki were true and needed to be said, but that didn’t mean it made him feel any better. Part of him wanted to just forfeit and leave, but at the same time, he didn’t want to be labeled the reason a U.S. team had to forfeit. If Katsuki really was going to be the stupid one, Izuku wasn’t going to let the man take him down too. Katsuki came from wealth and didn’t need anything. All Izuku had was his reputation and honor, and that was worth protecting.

The longer the day went on with no sign of Katsuki, the more Izuku really wished he could just curl upon in some hole. He felt as if everyone in the field was silently judging him. ‘Where’s his partner? Did they have a fight? Poor guy. Aww how sad...’ there he was all dressed and ready for the long program with no partner. He warmed up on the ice just in case, but it was pretty miserable doing it all alone.

Less than two hours before they were set to skate, Katsuki’s mother walks in, dragging her son behind her. Eijiro gets up to meet his employer, but Izuku barely manages a smile when the woman comes up to him.

“I know we’ve never had a chance to meet Mr. Midoriya, my name is Mitsuki Bakugou, and I extend my warmest thanks for working with my problematic son.”

Not wanting to be rude to the woman, “it’s nice to meet you Mrs. Bakugou. Your son he... he has his good sides.”

The woman laughs, “no need to be humble, I know my son is a brat. And that’s my fault, I shouldn’t have spoiled him so much. But I just want you to know that you really have made a big impact on him.” She chuckled, “It’s been quite shocking for my husband and I to listen to Eijiro’s reports.”

“Oh...” Izuku’s eyes widen. He never knew the coach was spying! “I, um am not sure what to say,” he stammers.

“Okay, okay old hag,” Katsuki suddenly interjects and starts to push his mother out the door. “We gotta get ready, so we’ll see you after the program!”

“Don’t call me a hag you brat!” She yells at her son, then waves at Izuku. “It was nice meeting you!”

“It was uh, nice to meet you too,” Izuku responds and waves back.

Katsuki returns a few minutes later and approaches Izuku. “Could we talk in private somewhere?”

“You need to get ready first,” Izuku states matter of fact. “We skate in less than 2 hours and we need to be ready.”

Katsuki nods without arguing and goes to the stylists chair, telling them to make it quick. And it doesn’t take very long for them to dress and tame his hair. Once that’s done, Eijiro and the stylist quietly take their leave.

“So,” Izuku stands there with his arms crossed, “what did you wanna say to me?”

Katsuki sighs, long and deep, hanging his head and closing his eyes. “I know saying sorry won’t mean much at this point, but for what it’s worth, I’m truly sorry Izuku.” He opens his eyes full of tears. “Last night when I left, I was so angry at myself, at the world, then I saw you with Shouto again and that pissed me off, and I took it out on you again, and that’s not right. So, I kept walking, and walking, just thinking about everything. My life, about this sport, and most of all you. I-I don’t deserve you, at all, I know that.” He pauses for a moment and closes his eyes again. “And when I found myself standing on the edge of a pier ready to jump, I called my mom to come get me.” He chuckled forlornly, “me still crying to my mother at this age, it’s so fucking pathetic. She convinced me to come here today and finish what we’d started for better or worse, make it right by you because I’m the one who dragged you into this world and it’s not okay to make you face it alone. If you hate me, I—,”Katsuki squeezes his eyes shut again as he takes another deep breath. “I-I’ll accept that. If you never forgive me, I’ll accept it because I don’t expect your forgiveness. But I just wanna say thank you for everything and I’ll always love you Izuku.”

The whole time Katsuki spoke, the man never made eye contact with him, but Izuku could feel the waves of regret flowing from him in a way he hadn’t expected. It was different from the time in Hawaii, much more heartfelt. Not that Katsuki hadn’t been trying back then, but he wasn’t exactly sure how to describe it. This apology hit Izuku more deeply somehow and when the man said he’ll always love him— he just knewKatsuki meant it with every fiber of his soul... and he knew no one could ever replace Katsuki in his own heart.

“Oh, Kacchan I don’t hate you.” His voice was soft and full of tenderness. He closes the gap between them and takes the man’s hands, forcing him to look up. His eyes were filled with happy tears, and his ear-to-ear smile was brighter than any other time in his life. “I can’t say I’m not frustrated, but I don’t hate you. Okay? We’ll work on stuff together.”

At that moment, Eijiro pops his head back into the room. “It’s time to hit the ice guys.”

“Okay!” Izuku answers cheerfully before turning back and wiping away Katsuki’s tears and his own. “Come on,” he pulls Katsuki from the dressing chair, turning as he talks, “we’re gonna kick everyone’s ass with the Pamchenko!”

“What?!” Katsuki pulls Izuku to a stop. “No! You’re right it’s too risky! We’re not doing it!”

“Yes!” Izuku continues pulling and walking, dragging Katsuki with him, “we’re doing it!” He smiles genuinely, causing Katsuki’s cheeks to flush red.

“N-No, I don’t want to risk you getting hurt Izuku! It’s too dangerous!”

The closer they get to entrance of the rink, their voices lower but the back, and forth argument continues. Yes! No! Yes! No! Yes!! The announcer calls their names, so they skate onto the middle of the rink and assume their positions.

“If you think I’m doing all this to get a routine out of you, you’re wrong! Izuku, why are you doing this?!”

“Because,” he smirks back, “I’m in the mood to kick a little ass!”

Izuku’s statement and the energy exuding from the man, makes Katsuki’s eyes flash with an adrenaline rush of excitement. He’s never felt such a rush before a program, and he loves how it feels! Any doubt he’d had of his feelings for Izuku, melted away the second the music began.

Their bodies moved in perfect alignment, truly lost in the music and their long-practiced routine flowing as a dance along the ice like two lovers pushing and pulling against each other in reflection of the journey it took to get to that point. The audience ooh and awed, spellbound as the pairs hands, strong yet covetous, molded in loving embrace before heart stopping explosive leaps and spins send their toes curling, and lifting them off their seats. But no one was more enraptured then the two skaters. The world simply fell away, and the competition became a blur around them.

Izuku had no time to process the sheer excitement coursing through his veins or those elusive tingles he’d longed to feel again from Katsuki. But they fueled him, drove him towards their end goal, and made him feel more alive than he’d ever felt! It was magic, pure and simple.

They flowed effortlessly into the first stage of the Pamchenko, with no falter to the strong grip Katsuki had on Izuku. The man was confident which in turn made him relax and relinquish all control to Katsuki’s capable hands. Izuku stayed focused, his arms kept tightly to his sides, counting each spin as the g-force momentum built up to the perfect pitch... and finally the release. The audience goes silent as Izuku’s body spun through the air, one, two, triple axel... caught! In Katsuki’s arms as Izuku hits the ice again. The entire stadium erupts while the pair glides to a smooth stop in the middle of the rink, with Izuku dipped and cradled in Katsuki’s arm.

Neither cared about the judges or competition nor the screaming fans on their feet, cheering in a thunderous roar. It was just them gazing at each other as they caught their breaths with camera lights flashing all around them.

“But why?” Katsuki’s questions Izuku again, because he genuinely couldn’t understand why the man was willing to take such a high risk. “You didn’t have to do it.”

Izuku beams back, “I told you before,” eyes softening. “Because I love you.”

Katsuki’s heart skips and soars as he swoops in, kissing Izuku with all the pent-up passion the man brought out of him. It was magical, freeing, and nothing could compare to this moment, not even winning gold! He helps Izuku to his feet and takes his hand as they bow for the crowd then skate off the ice to await the scores. “I still don’t deserve you Izuku, but I’m gonna spend the rest of my life spoiling you rotten to earn it.”

Izuku giggles, “I just want the real Kacchan, that’s all I need to be happy.”

“Well, too bad,” Katsuki laughs back, “I’m still gonna spoil you.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.” Katsuki clasps Izuku’s face in his hands with a grin. “I’m gonna work hard to curb my anger,” placing another kiss on the man’s lips, “but this is one fight you’ll never win, so just accept it.”

A tear trickles down Izuku’s cheek, which Katsuki smooths away with his thumb. Izuku felt like a damn princess in some fairytale, his eyes twinkling in the light. “Oh, Kacchan...”

#bakudeku #bakudeku fan fic #bakudeku fan fiction #bkdk #Bakugou katsuki #Midoriya izuku #Bakugou x midoriya #bakudeku au #modern setting au #ice skating #pairs skating #Katsuki x izuku #ktdk #katsudeku

37 notes · View notes

ramble-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Better With Practice

O lord please don’t mind me. It was a convo that I started randomly with @franks-mixtape over discord about our Franks and how weird their interactions are. It’s either some weird ass relationship, or chaotic af brothers of some sort... Or something else I dunno. This is going off the brother thing sooooo don’t mind me! *scuttles off* And thanks for letting me ramble about it bro.

----

Breath coming fast.

Heart beating rapidly.

Legs forced to move faster.

Midnight black locks whipped at Frank’s forehead as he ran, emerald green eyes were nothing but a ring around blown pupils as his eyes scanned the darkened forest that whizzes by him. Boots dig into the ground and arms move like jackhammers to propel him forward. Teeth are bared as he pants for air, his heart loud in his ears as he strains to listen for what’s got him to run.

There, off to his right, he heard the sound of thundering steps running beside him. Frank vaulted over a downed log, catching a glimpse of the shape chasing. Large and big in shape, the slight glint of long teeth caught in what little light is breaking through the branches from the half moon in the sky, and vibrant amber eyes focused right on him while dodging oncoming the brambles on the ground.

His legs burned as he changed course with a sharp turn to his left at a large trunk of a tree. The thing behind him followed in suit, a growl reaching his ears despite the wind howling loudly. The thing hung back, not making an attempt to catch up any quicker which irked the raven-haired 19 year old. Raising his voice as much as his lungs would allow, he shouted over his shoulder to the thing.

“C’mon ya big bastard! I know you can run faster than that slow shit!”

That seemed to set it off. The beast quickened its pace, its own breath coming fast as it sped up that it was close enough to just snag the back of Frank’s jacket. But it didn’t. The rumbling sound stopped, meaning it jumped. He knew this by how the hairs on the back of his neck raised up like an alert and he did the one thing he was told: He drops down onto the ground like a rock.

The large mass of a creature sailed over him, but he snapped back up like a sprinter out of the blocks and pounced onto the thing. Hands were quick to take a hold of thick fur in a vice like grasp to hold on. The thing under him let out a snarl as it veered to ram its back to a tree to knock him off. But Frank was quicker than that. His arm wrapped around its thick neck and took a hold of the fur on the other side and yarded on it hard.

The beast yelped and its feet stumbled under its body. They both took a hard tumble to the ground, the wind getting knocked out of Frank when it landed on him along with his back connecting with the ground below them. Just because he took a hard fall, his grip on the creature didn’t let up, muscles locked up like the jaws of a dog. His legs moved to wrap around its waist the moment it rolled onto its side and his ankles twisted together to hold. It started to struggle, trying to stand to shake him off to gain the upper ground. This made Frank let out a snarl between his teeth that canines just barely poked at his bottom lip.

“Oh no you fucking don’t! I ain’t finished with your ass yet flea bag!”

It snarled as it did its best to twist its head around to snap at him, but his other arm came around to take a hold of his wrist in a lock and pulled his arms towards himself. Muscle under fur rippled at the sudden strangulation when Frank’s arm tucked right under its chin where less muscling is to protect it. The beast let out a choked sound before using one of its appendages to slap the ground a few times.

“ACK! Let go!”

“SAY THE WORDS DAMN IT!!”

“Mer-” A gasp for a breath. “MERCY!!”

A grin spread across Frank’s pale features, but as the rules go, his limbs detangled and let the thing go. It stumbled up onto its feet with gasps before looking at the smiling teen who proceeds to roll onto his back with arms tucked behind his head like the smug bastard he is.

“Lighten up Morri, I won fair and square. Your dumbass just calculated your shit wrong.”

Morri, as the now identifiable wolf, lets out a huff as he sat down. Thing is, the wolf’s form shifted to that of a human upon sitting. Same age, similar facial structure, but different in his own way. The now human Morri let out a sigh as he rubbed at his neck.

“Geez. Ya didn’t have to pull so hard like that, Frank. Any harder and you might’ve bruised something.”

“What. You gonna be a pussy about it? Your neck is literally thicker than my waist! You’ll live if you stop being such a bitch baby about it.”

That made Morri scoffed. Now thinking, even though these two just met about a month ago, it still was pretty weird as all shit to address him as the same name they share. Talk about parents with shit tastes in names. It’s why he says to just go by Morri, a shortened version of the last name they both share, or just Morrison. Either way, it was one way to call them both out if needed.

Frank glanced over, with the little light peaking through, he can see Morri muttering to himself. Of course, keen ears picked up what was said, but when it comes to his half-brother, he ain’t one to pry for information unless shits serious. His chest expanded with a breath, then let out as a sigh. He got himself up onto his feet, brushing dirt off from his ass and his back, then went over and held out his hand towards Morrison.

The russet-haired boy looks up to the other, amber meeting emerald before glancing down to the hand held out to him, to the hints of a tattoo sleeve of roses. Letting his hand drop from his neck, he took a hold and Frank took a step back to haul Morri to his feet with a grunt. Now standing, it’s easy to see the two are the same height. Many kids looking at the two would say they’re fraternal twins or something. Same name, same flaming jester skull tattoo on the neck, but whereas Frank is pale, Morri is a bit tan. Hair color was another thing. Russet to raven black. Though, the sibling thing was right. Same dead beat father that didn’t give two shits, but different moms.

Frank was only half of what Morri is. Werewolf. He couldn’t shift like the other, but sight, smell, hearing, and other things were enhanced. Morrison was full werewolf. Able to shift from human to wolf in seconds with, thankfully, clothes on. Other than that, they see each other as full on brothers. Who the fuck cares about the differences? They don’t.

“Ey, bro. You mind if I crash at your place for a bit? Clive is giving me shit again.”

Morri blinked at that, but nodded. “You know you’re always welcome. Swear though, one of these days I’m gonna rip the bastards throat out.”

Frank chuckled at that and looped an arm around Morri’s shoulders. “I wouldn’t mind that. Fuck. I’d even watch that happen. You wanna know what the fucker does with the checks he gets from family services?! He-”

“Spends it on alcohol. I know. Half the time I can smell it on you. And you’ve told me this, multiple times.”

Well that made Frank shut up. But he sighed and nodded. Morrison chuckled a bit, then rested his own arm over the other’s shoulders as they made their way through the forest to the dark street of Ormond.

“At least you’re getting better. The more practice, the better. Soon enough you just might be able to fight me head on,” Morri said, changing the subject. This pulled a slight smile from Frank at that.

“Yeah? Me being able to kick your ass without running? Siiick.”

The wolf listened as his other half rambled about how cool it’ll be to fight without any given leverage. Banter was thrown as they made their way to Morrison’s current foster home, acting like as if they haven’t been separate for 19 years. Safe to say, this felt normal. Like it should’ve been.

#frank morrison #wolf frank #brother franks au #????#I guess that tag works lmao #legion dbd #my writings #franks-mixtape #long-ish post #hooooooooooooooo #enjoy

14 notes · View notes

ziracona · 4 years ago

Text

[The Kid – (FGO-adjacent AU) 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, ?]

“Ready?”

I let out a slow breath and hold it halfway. “Go.”

We’ve practiced this to as near perfection as a person can. So many times it was exhausting without actually using my phantasm once at all.

Sure hope this works I think, watching the clock she moved over to the front wall with us. We’ve been through it, so careful, so thorough. I’m facing the window, just in case. Unless something goes really wrong, she’s activating her summon spell the second I fire, and my bullet won’t make it far enough through the air to hit the glass before its mana is consumed, but just in case, figured it was safer to not face a wall that has people anywhere past it.

Kid’s got sound barriers set up—she kept saying it was nothing, but that’s more magecraft than I’ve ever known, which is none, and pretty damn useful if you ask me, but aside from that and her summon circle on the ground, all we got to depend on for this to work is the good will of some spirit on the throne, and each other.

I can feel the flow of mana from her to me, the connection heightening, the strain on me as I try and summon enough from her to use Thunderer, the pain in my chest and shoulder amplifying exponentially. It’s okay though; I feel alive. Excited. Ready for this. We’ve got a plan, and we’re gonna make it work. I believe in it.

“It's time for a duel,” I say, hand at the ready by my hip, everything familiar and electric in the room around me. Behind me, I hear her incantation too, but I tune it out and focus on my part. She’ll be on pace; she’ll do what she has to, just right, and so will I. No matter how impossible or desperate, because we got to, and we know we can. “Go ahead,” I challenge the world itself, sure we’ll win, “You draw first. I’m faster.” I feel the flood of manna, everything about me amplified and wired and I can sense time slowed around me—no, I’m sped up, I’m on par with time itself, and my gun’s in my hands and leveled and my finger’s pulled the trigger as the word, “FIRE!” echoes from my lips.

Behind me, I feel a massive surge of energy ripping me backwards the moment my shot fires. It’s like a tide flowing out only to be dragged back in, but faster and harsher. She calls on the mana as I produce it and it is ripped away from me, just right, just perfect, exactly like we planned, and dear GOD, it hurts. I didn’t think it would, because usually using up your mana is about the only way you can die painlessly as a heroic spirit, but I realize as the source of the pain clicks as my shoulder, it’s not, it’s that I’m not healing, I’m falling apart, and it’s not the mana loss that hurts, it’s that it’s not healing me and I’m back to dying.

My gun clatters from my fingers and I drop with it painfully, no strength to stand. I can see my hands half transparent, crackling. I’m trying to dissolve. No; no no you don’t, I tell myself, biting down on the inside of my cheek, trying to focus. I forget everything but maintaining my form and channel what I have into it. Cut off my abilities, my ability to sense things, everything but keeping my spirit core intact.

“Billy!”

I hear her calling me. Try to turn my head the other direction so I can see her, and am able, just barely. She sounds ragged herself, and she looks it. Pouring sweat from what she just did, hands on her knees to keep herself up, but she’s looking at me, pale and overcome with worry.

“It’s okay,” I promise, trying not to laugh at the way my voice sounds like I’m about to die and how un-reassuring I must look in a heap on the floor, “I’m okay, just need to catch my breath.”

She believes me though, and I see relief on her face. She smiles. Then there’s worry. “Did we do—”

Something happens. She jerks, and her eyes widen, and then her eyes shut and her knees go out and I’m watching in shock as she collapses like I must have just done, onto the hotel room floor in a little heap.

“Ritsuka!” I call. She doesn’t move. What happened? What—she was fine! Just— What could have gone wrong? Why—

There’s someone there. I’m so barely holding on, I don’t sense them coming, but my eyes work just fine, and I see boots as they approach from the hallway, and I’ve found Thunderer and dragged myself to the side to have it leveled by the time he’s made his next step.

He stops when he hears the hammer click, and looks down at me. He’s tall, and even barely holding on, I know he’s a heroic spirit, not a human. He takes another step.

“Don’t!” I warn, gun still leveled.

“If you were going to shoot me, you should have done it when you had the element of surprise,” says the heroic spirit, surveying the room, not me, “You’re about to vanish, and you know even as a Gunner you’ve only got the mana for a shot or two, so you’d have to kill me or it would be over for your master and you, but you didn’t. You warned me.”

He takes another step which brings him almost to Ritsuka, and glances down at the little heap and tilts his head.

“Don’t hurt her,” I warn, struggling to push myself up onto an arm. He’s right, and I know it, but it doesn’t mean I won’t try. And I’m pretty sure I could get at least five shots off before I’m gone completely. But I haven’t yet because I’m hoping I won’t have to.

The spirit glances at me, then back at my master, and stoops. “Which means you must suspect I’m the spirit she just summoned.”

Oh thank God.

“You are?” I check, adrenaline slowing a little.

He puts a palm on her back and I tense, but he looks over and says, “Relax, Gunner. …She’s only fainted,” then adds, raising his hand again after a moment, “Trying to support two servants alone, I’m guessing she has a reason for something that stupid.” He looks at me again then. “Who are you?”

“You’re the spirit she summoned?” I ask again, because he hasn’t answered.

He seems almost amused by that, exhales, and gives a little gesture of acknowledgement with an arm. It’s only his word, but for the life of me I can’t think who else he’d be, and if he was anyone else, and meant either of us harm, he could have easily accomplished it already, so I believe him.

“Billy the Kid,” I answer his earlier question, “You?”

“An Archer,” he answers, turning his attention back to Ritsuka and sliding his hands under her back and legs to lift her up.

“Hey!” I say in disbelief, “That ain’t fair—I told you! We’re on the same side.”

He stands up with Ritsuka in his arms and gives me a disdainful look. “You didn’t have to answer, and you don’t need to know.”

The asshole! That’s just so rude. I’m kinda speechless though. I guess it doesn’t matter that much, because at least we got help, but damn.

Above me, the heroic spirit turns away with Ritsuka.

“Hey! Where are you going!” I call after him. I’m a little more solid, and I try to make it up, but stumble trying to make it past my knees.

“Relax,” he says, glancing back at me, “I’m only putting her on the bed. You seem awfully attached for-“ he starts in that same aloof, evaluating tone, and then Ritsuka shifts in his arms and groans.

As she moves her head up, the Archer glances down at her, and her hair slides out of her face and she opens bleary eyes and squints up at the face looking back down at her.

“Dad?” she asks in a raspy voice and the aloof air completely drops from the Archer’s face as it drains of some of its color and he gapes back at her with the wind knocked out of him, and suddenly I like him a lot more and am no longer really feeling threatened at all. He stares at her for a good three seconds before remembering to move.

He looks at me then, with that same almost cornered expression, and I’m a little thrown too, so I say, “What, are you?” without thinking that through, and that I think almost takes him out.

The guy still doesn’t answer though, he just stares back at the girl in his arms, then stuntedly resumes his walk towards the bed.

“Dad, where…” she tries, then her eyes slowly close again and she just shifts and nestles her face against the Archer’s shoulder. He does not look at me this time, and I finally make it to my feet and stagger over after them, using furniture to support me. I make it to the foot of the bed about the time he straightens up after setting her down.

When he straightens back up, he looks more like he did before, and the air of cockiness and ability is back up, but I ain’t forgot what I just saw, and I don’t mind it this time.

“Still not gonna give me a name?” I ask as I come up opposite him on the other side of the bed.

“You don’t need it,” he replies.

“Even if I promise not to bring that up again so long as you tell me?” I ask with a grin.

“Don’t,” he warns, but he sees the look on my face and I see him have to expend effort not to smile. He relaxes a little too. “So,” he says after a moment, exhaling and placing his hands at his waist, “Since our master isn’t up, do you want to tell me why I was summoned, Billy the Kid?”

“You oughta know,” I say casually, crossing my arms, “You answered her summon.”

He kind of stares past me into space for a second, and his brow furrows. “…I did,” he says, like he somehow wasn’t aware until just now. “Entry was a little bumpy,” he offers me by way of explanation, glancing back over, “Unless I’m still lacking information, though, all she asked for was someone to help who knew magecraft, because there was a threat all of us on the throne, and her.”

“Yeah, why are you an Archer?” I ask.

“Sorry you didn’t get the Caster you were hoping for,” he says, waving a hand carelessly, “But I was a mage before I was this, so I should do.”

“Oh, perfect!” I say, meaning it, “I get along better with Archers anyway, and your Independent Action is gonna help a lot with both of us hangin’ on by a thread.”

“I’ll say,” he agrees, glancing back down at Ritsuka, “Although it’s more amazing she’s actually maintaining both of our forms alone, without support.”

“She’s okay?” I check.

He gives a nod. “Fainted, probably from the strain of suddenly expending a massive amount of energy, but she’s adjusting surprisingly fast.” He gestures, and I see he’s right. She’s already stopped sweating, and her face is almost its original color again.

Good. I was worried there for a second, but she’s quite the gal.

“I’ll wait till she’s up to give you the full run-down,” I say, circling back, “But the short is we got a group of Mages who got the idea it would be economical to use our manifestations’ connection to our Saint Graphs on the throne as a sort of battery, by trapping us on the edge of death based on how we died in life, so we’re too weak to run off or fight them.”

“Fucking Mages,” he sighs, not remotely surprised, because honestly—yeah.

“Weren’t you a mage?” I say with a grin.

“And?” he challenges.

I give him a friendly nod. “Fucking Mages,” I agree happily.

“How bad?” asks the Archer, “How many of us?”

I shake my head. “Not sure. I was their first.” I gesture to my shoulder. “Supposedly anyway. But could be a number of us back at the place, or none. Regardless, they got their research, and there will be more if there aren’t already, unless we wipe it clean.”

He gives a nod, and gestures at Ritsuka. “And her?”

“Your daughter?” I ask.

“Gunner,” he says exhaustedly, rubbing a hand across his face.

“She’s just a kid,” I answer happily, “Was in the same building for research they were conducting, and found out what was goin’ on, didn’t like it, and busted me out.”

“Really,” he says, glancing at me, then studying her, impressed, I think.

“I know,” I say, “Last thing I’d expect from a mage, even a little one, but she’s sincere. Don’t know a whole lot of magecraft, but apparently she’s got a manna supply big enough to support she said twelve of us at once.”

“Wait, are you serious?” asks the Archer, losing his cool façade again for a second.

I give a nod, grinning, “I know, right? That’s why she was there—little mage anomaly.”

“No wonder you thought this wasn’t a terrible idea,” says the Archer, looking back at her, “And you called in another one of us because she was having trouble healing you fast enough to hit them back?”

He’s quick. I nod. “Me and any forces we pick up on the way if they got more of us-“

“—because anyone they have would be closer to disappearing than you are,” he finishes, nodding slowly.

“Can you help?” I ask.

He rubs the back of his neck, thinking, but not about that I think. “I can, though-“

Below us, Ritsuka groans and shifts on the bed, and we stop talking as she blinks and then opens her eyes. It takes about half a second for her amber irises to clear, and then she bolts upright like she did before, completely awake, and I grin at the familiar sight.

“Whoa! –Billy! –Uh,” she bounces from one to another of us with her gaze, then settles on the Archer, mouth a little open. “Oh,” she says in a very small voice, “Hi.”

He gives her a nod of acknowledgement.

“Did I summon you?” she checks.

He tries not to smile in a way that makes me think he found that way funnier than I’d expect for some reason. Like it’s a familiar sight to him too somehow.

“You did,” he answers, keeping a straight face, “Archer class, at your service.”

“An Archer?” she asks, looking from him to me.

“I know you were expecting a Caster,” says the Archer with great self-assurance, “But I can assure you I can do what you need.”

“He was a mage before an Archer, back when he was alive,” I tell her, “—An Archer’s way better anyway. They’re easier to supply mana to, for one thing, and they’re usually a lot easier to get along with.” I’m definitely partial a little because it’s my own secondary class, but I’m also not wrong. Lots of personality types seem to crop up a bunch for specific classes, and Archers are mostly easy to get along with—for me, anyway, but I figure since Ritsuka seems real up my alley, she’ll probably get along pretty good with ‘em too.

“Oh,” she says, absorbing that, “Well, nice to meet you,” she turns back to the Archer and offers him a hand to shake, “I’m Ritsuka Fujimaru. Thank you for answering my call; I really appreciate it. I need you, so thank you for coming to help.”

He seems a little taken aback by that and hesitates a moment before smiling in a different, much more genuine way, and taking her hand. “Of course. Good to meet you, Master. I’m sure I’ll be of use.”

“—Oh, please don’t call me that,” she hurries, flushing.

He furrows his brow. It’s fun to watch this happen to someone else, mostly because it makes me feel connected. We don’t get to socialize on the throne—it’s like being frozen while you wait to be sent out, sort of, so we don’t get to spend time with other Heroic Spirits outside of summons, and at least half the time, we forget everything that happened to us while summoned once it’s over, so. Our lives are barely something you can call a life, the way the Throne makes us exist, and even with our own kind, we don’t get to have much in the way of real relationships. Even if you get lucky enough to partner up with another spirit for a while on a summon, it’d be a rare thing to have enough down time to get to talk to them about anything like what being stuck as one of us after death is like, or how we feel about it. We all kind of know, sure, but, it would be nice to get to talk to someone else about it sometimes. And I see him having a lot of the same thoughts I did, and it’s nice, because I don’t just think the way I feel about what happens to me is probably about the same to a lot of us, I get to see it is.

“Master, I mean,” adds Ritsuka, still holding his hand, “I don’t want to be that. –I-I know that’s what Mages all call themselves when they summon one of you, and they usually call you Servants, but it seems wrong, and I don’t like it. I mean, you’re all some kind of hero or great warrior or artist, and I’m just a mage, and either way, we’re both people, and you were nice enough to come when I asked for help. I don’t want you to feel like I think you have to, or like I’m going to try and push you around. I’m just lucky to have you here to help.”

His expression changes, surprised and I think touched, because it’s a soft expression, and he smiles. I haven’t seen him give completely real smile before, and it makes him almost look like a different person, a younger, less hardened one. “I see, Miss Fujimaru. That’s an unusual way for a Mage to choose to act, but I think I understand it. I’ve felt the same way before myself. What would you have me call you, then?”

“Uhm, --oh, Ritsuka is just fine,” she says, reassured by his response and happy with it, “You don’t have to call me Miss Fujimaru either.”

“Ritsuka,” he agrees with a nod of I think respect, which I also don’t think this Archer gives just anyone, and certainly not this fast, “I’m an Archer class servant, but I ought to be able to help you with your magecraft as well. I go by Nameless.”

Oh, so you’re just gonna tell her before she even asks you? I think without any real vitriol because I can’t blame him one bit, the way she is.

“You don’t have a real name?” she asks, like it makes her sad.

“I do, but I don’t use it anymore,” he replies, straightening a little.

“What was it, if it’s okay to ask,” says Ritsuka, “I’d rather call you your real name than ‘Nameless,’ unless you hate it or something.”

“…Emiya,” he offers her after a moment of relaxed contemplation. She seems to have gotten him to drop his guard a lot in about one minute.

Emiya I think, running that through my head. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him before, and it doesn’t ring a bell either. I have no idea what heroic spirit that would be, which is weird. That’s a family name, so maybe I’d remember if I heard the whole thing, but I kind of just think we’ve never met.

“First name?” she asks.

“I prefer my surname,” he replies, “Though just Archer is even more optimal.”

“Oh,” she says, I think not sure why he won’t tell her, but respecting his choice, “Well, it’s good to meet you, Emiya. Thank you again for answering my call. Uhm.” She glances down at herself, then over at me. “You’re okay now?”

I give a nod. “Right as rain.”

She smiles, then turns back to Emiya. “I guess I passed out for a minute. Did Billy tell you anything?”

“He gave me the gist of your situation,” replies Emiya, “But no details about the group beyond what they’re doing.”

“Okay,” she says, zeroing right back in on mission mode incredibly fast, “I’ll catch you up, then! –Oh, you are okay helping us, right? Since you came? –You want to, I mean?”

He seems incredibly bemused, and smiles at her again. “Yes, I believe you weren’t actually overselling it when you said all of us on the Throne would have a vested interest in stopping this from happening when you called for a spirit. I’m here to assist you.”

“Great,” she beams, “Okay—I’ll go grab the papers and map, and –oh—do you want anything to eat or drink?”

His eyebrows raise. I keep hoping he’ll look at me, and he feels my gaze finally and glances over at me and I give him a I know, right? grin, and he struggles not to smile back. I can tell he very much gets it. Some kind of a Master. Or, not a Master, by choice, I suppose. Some kind of a mage.

“Thank you,” he says, “I’ll accept whatever you’ve got.”

She hops up out of the bed, seemingly totally recovered now, and hurries off towards the kitchenette, and he goes after her, saying, “But tell me; you were hoping for someone to help you with your magecraft, and I understand the general situation, but what is the issue specifically you’re hoping for help with?”

“Oh,” she says, pausing for a second. She loses a little enthusiasm to embarrassment, but pushes on, “Uh. Well, I have enough mana to actually support several servants—”

“Your Gunner informed me,” says the Archer.

“-Oh, okay. Well, I do, so I should be able to keep anybody Ur-shanabi—sorry—that’s the group who’re doing this—or did he tell you that already-?” He’s shaking his head, so she keeps going. “Uh, okay, so, I should be able to keep any heroic spirits there from vanishing, but I need to be able to heal them. And, I can’t. I couldn’t heal Billy. Except really, really slowly.” She looks down at her shoes. “And I should be able to. I know mages always do that, for spirits they summon.”

“I see,” says the Archer, taking all of that in stride with surprising ease, like some of it is familiar to him almost. He considers. “Is it alright with you if I check your circuits?”

“Huh?” says Ritsuka.

I pretty much trust this guy, based on my intuition and how he’s acted, but I edge a little closer, just in case. Feel like it’s my job, after everything.

Emiya holds up a hand. “I specialize in tracing the structure of things and understanding how they work. If it’s alright, I can easily see if there’s any issue with your circuits themselves. If there is, I can probably help you fix it. If not, it should give me a good idea of what to do.”

“Oh—of course, then,” she says excitedly, trusting him entirely immediately, “Go ahead. Do I just stand still?”

He gives a nod. She does, squaring her shoulders and her stance, and he places his palm against her shoulder, whispering something I don’t quite catch. I feel a little surge of mana, and she jerks a little but not the way you do when something hurts—more the way you do if you touch unexpectedly but not painfully cold water—then holds still again. I’m curious, because I really don’t know much about magecraft at all and never have, so I get closer and watch. The Archer registers that, but he stays focused, brown knit, and eyes scanning things I cant see. Little blue-green crackles of light appear in geometric patterns along her skin for a moment which is almost alarming, but they’re gone just as fast, and he straightens up.

Ritsuka looks up at him questioningly.

“You really are connected to an almost unbelievable supply of mana,” says Emiya like he still can’t quite believe it, “Unfortunately, you don’t have magical circuits designed for utilizing it. Unfortunately might be a poor choice of words though, because being human, if you did, you’d probably kill yourself using it. You do have a good structure of magical circuits, though, and there’s nothing wrong with them, they’re just mostly unactivated. You never received formal training?”

“Not any training at all, really—well, my mom and dad taught me a little, but, only small stuff,” says Rituska, holding up a hand and squeezing her fist open and closed curiously like she’s trying to visualize what he’s describing.

He gives a kind of affirmative Hm sound of a that makes sense variety. “I can show you how to activate them,” says the Archer.

“Really?!” asks Ritsuka excitedly, “Just like that?”

Emiya gives a nod. “It won’t exactly be ‘just like that,’ though. It takes time to learn magecraft, like any skill. Building magical circuit ability for practical use is a bit like building muscle. It takes time, and overuse will damage your body. I can show you how to activate them period, but once you have, it will take practice before you can use your mana for anything complicated.”

“That’s okay,” she says, completely happy, “I just need to have enough I can give you magical energy to heal.”

“Well then,” he says, “I think I can fix your problem.”

#fate go #fate go fic #fate go au #fate go au fic #fate #fate fic #fate grand order #billy the kid #fate billy the kid #fgo billy the kid #ritsuka fujimaru #heroic spirit Emiya #emiya archer #fate Emiya #I love this because I don't even proof it I just write it for me and post it like god intended it's exhausting to write except for fun #shirou emiya #writing #The Kid (fic)#The Kid #someday I'll post this on AO3 but it won't be today I'm very tired of people expecting me to spell like man u don't know how much work it #takes I'm adhd and have dyslexia it's not a combination for spelling I just want to vibe not get a NYT review on my passtime I'm here for #providing me and anyone else who likes what I make happiness not a jury panel I just love and have a lot of feelings #and want to write for characters I love and bring cool scenarios the muses send me to life #originally I went back and added the link to new parts to every past part but that's gonna start taking 1 million years so now I'm only #linking new parts from the part directly before it (but all previous parts go on all new instalments) bc I think this makes sense

5 notes · View notes

superspoonie24 · 4 years ago

Text

BBEG

Lena is a genius but also an idiot. Alex has to save her girlfriend after Lena forgets to cover her drink at the bar. 1500 ish words of pain and a few gay ones mixed in. 💛

Warning: attempted date rape and kidnapping. Nothing fully happens, but it’s still disturbing

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27220495

Alex paced back and forth across the bullpen. She was wracking her brain on what to do.

'Okay so if Lena disappeared about an hour ago that means we have 23 hours left, assuming they're going to ask for ransome. We haven't heard from them so it may not be for ransome and it could just be... No. We'll find her before it gets to that.'

"Detective Danvers," J'onn interrupted.

Alex jumped at her name. 'When did he get here?'

"My office."

"Yes sir."

Alex followed her captain to his office. He closed the blinds and gestured to the couch.

'This isn't good. He never uses the couch. Not unless he's consoling people-'

"Alex."

"Huh?" Alex shook her herself out of her thoughts. "Sorry sir."

"It's alright. Come, sit."

Alex sat down on the couch next to J'onn.

'Yup. This is definitely not good.'

"I know you're worried about her, we all are." J'onn put his hand on Alex's. "And I know you want to help."

"I don't like where you're going with this, sir."

"Listen to me." J'onn squeezed her hand. "I cannot have you working this case-"

"But J'onn!" Alex shouted.

"I said listen!" J'onn stared Alex down and she went silent. "I cannot have you working this case, as it may jeopardize the integrity of the case."

Alex stared at J'onn's face.

'He's up to something.'

"I won't let my best detective ruin her career." J'onn stood up and looked down at her. "I am ordering you to go home, and do something to occupy your mind. Maybe go hunting." J'onn winked, and it finally clicked in Alex's head.

"Understood." Alex stood up and headed for the door.

"And Alex." J'onn grabbed her hand and held it tight. He pulled her into a hug. "Go get 'em."

"Thank you," Alex whispered back.

She left his office and hopped on her bike.

'I'm coming Lena.'

***

Lena moaned at the warm feeling inside her.

"Hmm... Alex... Not tonight..."

She tried to move, but couldn't.

"Alex... I said not tonight..."

Lena tried to bring her hands down, but they wouldn't move. She slowly opened her eyes. They shot wide open upon noticing the cuffs restraining her hands and feet. She looked around, but couldn't recognize anything in the foreign room.

"What. Where am I?"

Lena started to panic. She tugged and pulled on the restraints until blood trickled down her skin.

"Easy there lil' lady."

Lena stilled at the vaguely familiar voice.

"We don't want ya hurt too much now do we?"

The owner of the voice stepped into view. He was a big guy, easily 6'3", with a big beard and a scar on his face. His flannel shirt was hanging open, and his jeans sat low on his waist.

"You're the guy from the bar."

"Aww, you 'membered me."

The man smiled and sat on the bed.

"What do you want?" Lena tried to be firm, but adrenaline was pumping through her veins.

"You o' course."

Lena shivered as he ran his rough hand up her smooth leg.

"Why?" Lena asked, hoping to buy herself some time.

"Dont ya 'member wha I told ya at the bar?" The man pulled back, still sitting on the bed.

"I remember saying no."

"And that righ' there hurt ma feelings very much." He stood up and walked around to the head of the bed.

"You're so pertty. Dem long legs and dat tight ass. How could anyone resist? Specially with dat lowcut shirt you be wearin'."

"That doesn't give you the right to do this!" Lena shouted. Anger replaced the fear flowing through her body.

"Ya know, fer a genius, you ain't dat smart."

"What do you mean?" Lena wracked her brain, but it was all foggy.

"Ya left your drink open. Makes it real easy fer a fella to drop sometin innit."

All of a sudden, Lena's memory of last night crashed into her like a bus.

"You roofied me!" Lena yelled. "Let me go!" Lena started thrashing about, not caring about the blood streaming from her wrists.

"Listen her, bench." The man grabbed her chin and held it tight. "Yer mine. And if you cause anymore trouble, I dont mind using ya dead. Got it?"

Lena swallowed and mumbled "yes".

"Good. Now give me a kiss 'fore I go."

Before Lena could do anything, his lips were on hers. She gagged at his foul breath, but managed to kiss him back.

"Don't go anywhere..."

The man laughed and closed the door.

"Alex... Hurry..."

Lena closed her eyes against the rising tears.

***

'Come on Lee..' Alex thought to herself. 'Where'd ya go?'

Alex went to Lena's apartment and looked for clues. There was nothing out of the ordinary there.

'Dammit.' Alex muttered as she hopped on her bike. 'I swear if she was at that bar again, I'm gonna kill her.'

Alex sped off into the wee hours of the morning to the dive bar Lena's known to frequent.

***

Alex ignored the cluster of catcalls that erupted when she entered the bar. She walked up to the bartender and slammed down a picture of her and Lena.

"Was she in here tonight?"

"What's it to ya?"

"Well..." Alex grabbed his tie and pulled him down to whisper in his ear. "she's missing. And if I find out she was here, and you kept it from me, I'll charge you with the people who took her."

Alex could hear his gulp in the now silent room.

"Y-yes. She w-was here," the poor man stammered. "She got a drink and left with a big bearded guy a couple hours ago."

"Was she walking funny?" Alex tightened her grip on his tie.

"Y-yes. Practically leaning on the guy."

"And you didn't think to stop it? To call the police?"

"N-no." The man swallowed. "Look I'm sorry. I didn't know. I- I can give you the guy's a-address if you want?"

"Fine."

Alex released his tie and he sighed in relief before writing down the name and address.

"That can't be his real name," Alex scoffed.

"It's what's in the machine!"

"You better pray she's okay."

Alex picked up the picture and left the man quivering behind the bar. She slammed the door and hopped on her bike.

'Please be okay Lena...'

***

The door creaked open and Lena stopped all movement, even breathing.

"Oh my god. Lena!" Alex shouted as she ran over to her girlfriend.

"Alex!" Lena sighed in relief. "Please, hurry. I don't know when he'll be back."

Alex ran her hand over her forehead and smiled.

"I thought I lost you."

A single tear dropped onto Lena's cheek.

"Well what do we got here?"

Alex and Lena froze at the sick and twisted voice.

"Are ya s'posed to be this doe's mate?"

Alex turned around and faced him. She slowly moved her head up and took in the body twice her size. She kept her face firm as he stepped closer.

"Yea. What about it?"

"How cute." The man sneered. "Two does pretending they don't need a buck."

The man stepped closer until he was towering over Alex.

"Pathetic."

He placed his large hand around Alex's throat and lifted her off the ground.

"Stop it!" Lena screamed. "Don't hurt her."

Alex struggled to get out of his monstrous grasp. She kicked her feet wildly, hoping to either hit him or find something to stand on.

"Fine."

Alex crumpled to the floor, taking in ragged, desperate breaths.

"I'll come back for her later."

He grabbed Alex's cuffs and cuffed her hands around the foot of the bed.

"Right now," the man paused and climbed on the bed. "It's you I want."

Lena's mind spun as she caught the whiskey on his breath. She tried to pull back, but it was useless. He brought his hands to her tear stained blouse and ripped it open. He tore off her bra and chucked it across the room.

"Stop it!" Alex shouted, trying desperately to get up. "Leave her alone!"

"Hush doe." The man hissed. "You'll get ya turn."

Lena cried as he slid her skirt down her long, pale legs. She closed her eyes and resigned herself to this fate when the door busted open.

"NCPD PUT YOUR HANDS UP!"

A fully armed rescue team came and pulled the monster off of Lena.

"Cutting it kinda close don't ya think?" Alex laughed as she rubbed her wrists.

"Hey, I'm not the one that got chained to a bed." Teased J'onn.

"Oh shut up."

Alex turned and helped Lena sit up. J'onn handed her his coat and Alex wrapped it around Lena.

"Thank you for saving me."

Lena gave Alex a gentle kiss on the lips.

"Always Lee." Alex smiled and hugged her girlfriend. "Now about that bar..."

"I know. I know. Don't go to them anymore."

"Or at the very least, cover your drink." J'onn added.

The three walked out of the house and towards the ambulance. They couldn't help but overhear the squad of cops arresting their assailant.

"BBEG, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law..."

"BBEG?" J'onn asked.

"Big Bad Evil Guy." The lovers answered in unison.

"How do you know-"

"Kara."

#whumptober2020 #no.22 #drugged #supergirl #fic #aly writes #date rape #roofied #almost noncon #alex saves the day #agentcorp #alex x lena #gay #detective alex #genius lena #lena is an idiot #kara is a dork

5 notes · View notes

sky-sykes-starr · 5 years ago

Text

BTS Yandere Finding Out Your Pregnant (Hyung Line)

Warning: Contains abuse, violence, sexual and forced non-con

Jin

You were only three weeks pregnant and you still didn’t break the news to your husband, Jin. You didn’t know what to say and you didn’t know how this happened (Well you knew it was the shit load of sex the two of you always had), but you were always used condoms and you were always on the pill.

You kept thinking back to that day, if you were three weeks pregnant that means your conception must’ve happened right after the punishment he gave you for embarrassing him in public in front of many producers and directors. Honestly that was an accident, you didn’t think your dress was ‘too short’ or ‘too tight’. After what seemed like an endless session of spanking, the two of you made love with one another because you were wet and he was hard.

You continuously keep twirling your food with a fork as Jin goes on about his day with the new movie that he is staring in called ‘Mine, My Possession’ were he is playing as a psychopath in love with a young woman whom he later kidnaps to be with. It was just hypocritical of him, judging you for being paired with a man on T.V. when he’s with women doing sex scenes. The only work Jin allowed you to have was small roles or when you would be working with him. And it was tiring being with him 24/7.

You scoff as he attempts to make you jealous with the amount of nudity him and the women have to do.

Jin: Excuse me, I’m telling you about my work and you behave like this

Y/N: What? I didn’t do anything

Jin: Really, first you don’t even pay any attention, then you scoff and now you lie

Y/N: Well-

Jin: TRUST ME Y/N YOUR TREADING ON THIN ICE. SO TELL ME WHAT IS WRONG!

His outburst were beginning to become more common and without even thinking .....

Y/N: I’M PREGNANT YOU STUPID FUCK

There was a moment of silence as you see Jin’s faced in utter shock tying to find the right words to say.

We’re there any right words.

Jin: Well the timing isn’t clearly right and your clearly not in the right mindset, but I believe this is good for us

You were shocked at what you heard, “right mindset” my foot.

Jin: Just imagine Y/N with my looks and your..... well, mainly me our child will have everyone at their feet. Oh and also go upstairs and wait there naked for me I do not appreciate being called a “stupid fuck”.

You quickly rush up the stairs into your bedroom and do as you are told.

Yoongi

You always planned your whole entire life out and you knew you had wanted children. The only problem was that you weren’t planning to have any time soon, especially with Yoongi.

Yet, things do not go to plan as you found out you were pregnant and ever since then that mouth you’ve got has been shut about the whole predicament that is taking place. Being one month into the preganancy and you still didn’t feel like it wasn’t the right time to tell Yoongi the truth.

Until one day he came back home from work, in a foul mood as he was struggling to some inspiration for his new works. You knew you should’ve kept your job, but with him returning in a bad way left you on the recieving end of the stick.

It all started when you made hot chocolate for the pair of you and he pulled you into the couch for a cuddle watching a T.V show with him. But to him you always ruin it as you wouldn’t shut the fuck up about applying for a job to help with the income. Of course, you weren’t in major struggle and when Yoongi got payed he GOT PAYED. He was always careful with his money, but you stating that you need to help him with the income was a blow to his ego.

He decides to pick his hot chocolate up, to which yo still left the spoon inside as Yoongi normally liked to stir his drinks for a bit. As you continued talking Yoongi slowly picked the spoon and placed by you ear.

Y/N: Ahhhhhh that hurts

You try to move back, but Yoongi grabs a hold of your ear and squeezes it towards the spoon

Y/N: Please Yoongi I’m sorry for what I did I promise I was going to tell you the truth

Yoongi looked confused. Your hiding something from him made his anger fuel upwards and as he lets go he turns you towards him with his hand raised up in the air...

You close your eyes and scream.

Y/N: I`M PREGNANT PLEASE DON’T HURT ME.

You brace yourself for a slap, but it never came. You open your eyes to see Yoongi staring at you not knowing what to say until he pushes you on to the floor.

Yoongi: BITCH YOU FUCKING WHAT? HUH! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS?

You were shocked by his behaviour not knowing what to do you stood there silently.

He grabs your hair and pulls you up to look him shaking you back forth, whilst throwing curse words on how your a slut, a stupid bitch and that the kid probably ain’t even his.

The truth is, Yoongi always wants to have kids but he didn’t think his little guys would be able to make you pregnant any time soon. That means he has to share you, your time, your energy, your body and heck if you decide to breastfeed that kid he has to share your tits.

Hoseok

Hoseok had always been controlling your life, every inch of it from what friends you have to what you wear and it was draining your whole energy. You were stuck with him for the rest of your life and what was worst was that both your mothers were childhood best friends. So if you dared to complain about Hoseok to your mum she will scold you for not behaving and listening to him, as he always played the good boy card. And if you went to his mum, she will scold Hoseok and than Hoseok will scold you and end up giving you a punishment.

You visibly remembered the last time you were being punished for telling his mother that he yelled at you for not finishing the chores on time. When he heard that news back and his mum informing him that he needs to do more in the house he was furious. So you had to do all the chores in your underwear and you know what the worst thing was his friends came over and you were called a slut by Hoseok and given lustful dirty looks the whole time of the duration.

You sit there on the bed weighing your options, you never wanted to have a baby, not his anyway specially the treatment he gives you. The fact is whenever the two of you had sex, he always wore a condom so you knew you were safe unless if they were poor quality or ripped.

You have to tell him the truth.

It’s the only way.... because if he finds out another way, through someone else it will be the longest day of your life.

You get up and place yourself in bed as it’s getting late and Hoseok will he be home soon.

(Time Skip)

You begin to feel something tug at you and all the sudden you feel an eerie cold breeze round your stomach and something hot on your face. You murmur noises hoping that it’s just a nightmare and you’ll snap out of it.

But it isn’t and you quickly shoot your eyes open to see Hoseok lying on top of you naked with his hand trying to pull your shirt up.

Y/N: WHAT THE FUCK! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

He quickly gets off you.

Hoseok: Y/N,you do not need to yell I’m in the same room as you

Y/N: What were you trying to do?

Hoseok: What does it look like Y/N, I’m horny and I didn’t want t wake you up

OH MY GOD! I THINK I’M GONNA BE SICK

Hoseok: Plus it’s a good way to have a child

That’s how you ended up pregnant.

He was fucking you whilst you were sleeping.

The realisation hits your face and he can tell by the gawk of your eyes and jaw dropping.

Hoseok: OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! YOUR PREGNANT. WERE GONNA HAVE A BABY, I HAVE TO TELL EVERYONE RIGHT NOW

You stare in utter disgust and disbelief as he rolls around the carpet butt naked.

Namjoon

When Namjoon found out you were pregnant he was extremely disappointed into YOU. It was all your fault, it’s YOUR body, YOUR birth control pills and YOU should be the one to be able to take care of that.

Yet, you always find a way to disappoint him, you’ve never met his needs when the two of you got married and now this. You digged yourself in a bigger hold than the one you were in yesterday, when you suggested to take up art classes.

Namjoon accpeed because he wanted you to be happy, but when he saw your drawing and painting he began to make rude and sly comments to your work. Stating that a child could draw better than you or you couldn’t even hold a pencil properly. One time he even ripped you artwork and flushed it down the toilet. This led you to burst into tears running into your bedroom refusing to atten and other art session again, which led to the explosive argument that Namjoon spends so much money on you and that you are ungreatful and have nothing to worry about.

Namjoon: You must be crazy if you think we are raising a mutt in MY HOUSE

Y/N: Excuse me

Namjoon: Listen, sweetie I’m practically raising you myself your enough for me handle

Y/N: EXCUSE ME

Namjoon: It’s the truth and on top of that you are expensive

You anger built up and you e finally had enough and snapped, giving him a tight hard slap across the face

Y/N: THE INLY MUTT THAT IS BEING RAISED AT HOME IS YOU, YOU STUPID MOTHERFUCKER

You storm out of the car slamming the door and walking away.

47 notes · View notes

dionysus-is-my-dude · 4 years ago

Text

Life Update:

Yo, I was gone for a long time again. I finally got my desktop tumblr working again after clearing all my cache stuff on my laptop. Thank you to the staff member who let me know what to try ‘cause I woulda never figured that out on my own.

Anyway, what has Luna been up to? I started school AGAIN, this time shooting for art education, though I may cut out the education and just go straight art and maybe some theatre now that my brother has just served me some “don’t waste your talent” pie. Yes, I love singing and dancing and acting and being on stage and dressing up and oof, I LOVE THEATRE. My only issue with going after it right now is my health. My right foot is screwed up, and I’m overweight. But, once I get my foot better, I’ll be back to working out. I don’t have the money to eat that healthy right now. I’ll be surviving on toast and bagels and cheap, easy meals for a few weeks unless I get my hours at work back up. But anyway, I would REALLY love to do theatre. I’d have to get a vocal coach ‘cause my voice ain’t what it used to be with no practice. (I rarely sing these days.) I can’t sing as high as I used to, though maybe I’m just VERY out of practice.

And my brother is right. I DON’T have any real drive. I half-ass things when I’m not really in the mood. An artist can’t do that. I find myself struggling to come up with good ideas. Whenever I’m not at work, I’m writing self-insert fanfiction and scrolling through inspiration, but not actually doing much with it. But I used to live for rehearsals, for music and dance practice, for blocking, for getting my costume, doing my hair and make-up. All that. I felt alive during a show. I WAS at one point going to school to get a Bachelor’s in Theatre, but I couldn’t afford to live on campus and eventually couldn’t afford to drive back and forth everyday, so I had to drop out. Plus, I still hadn’t been diagnosed with bipolar disorder or ADHD, so I was really struggling. I wish I had persisted. I’d be done with school by now, with all the proper credentials and skills learned to participate in any area of theatre, from on-stage to backstage to shop. Dropping out of that path was the biggest regret of my life, honestly. I was more concerned about not having a job and starving because I was too full of pride to ask for help.

I don’t know. I feel like you don’t NEED a degree to be a stage actor. Like, you just need talent and experience, right? So, I’ll take vocal lessons online or something, to get my voice back to full strength, and I’ll try to get into local musicals, though we may not have any during the pandemic. But I’m still gonna finish school currently to get an art education degree to have something to fall back on, y’know?

SO, outside of all the school and career stuff, I had yet another falling out with my dad, this time because of something someone else told him about me. He didn’t even ask ME about it, and I was so fed up with his BS that I didn’t bother explaining myself. I just blocked him. I’m so, so TIRED of dealing with him and his lack of emotional intelligence. My BROTHER thought he was a sociopath, but my dad acts more like it, the way he treats us. My therapist said it’s really healthy for me to be setting this boundary. My brother thinks my dad treats me like this because I don’t talk to him or spend time with him. But when I DO talk or spend with him, he just makes me feel like shit. So, why would I continue to speak and hang out with someone who makes me feel like that? I don’t care that he physically took care of me my whole life. I don’t care that I’m in his will. If he weren’t my dad and he were a boyfriend, everyone would tell me to avoid him, right? Why is it different just because he’s a father figure? He’s a shit one. I don’t want him in my life.

I have a lot of feelings today, sorry. I burned myself cooking tilapia the breadcrumbs aren’t even cooked so I’m throwing them back into the oven. Yes, I’ve taken my meds today. I’m just not in a good headspace after talking to my therapist today and having my little brother lecture me on not wasting my talent.

#personal #update

5 notes · View notes

devilsuga · 5 years ago

Text

The Missing Key

Pt.1

Pairing: Yoongi x reader; Possible others x reader

Au: Supernatural; modern day; hunters

Word count: Uhm I ain’t counting

Warnings: Dark themes; gore; sex; possible tw

Summary: The struggles of her past lead her into an asylum by her foster parents who couldn’t look after her. Sightings of seven spirits in her dream haunted her till the day she got put on medication and her brain fried. On her 18th birthday she’s free but with a simple address of her old home scribbled on crumpled paper does it lead her to mysteries. Mysteries awaiting because no one listened to her. To Van Helsings future grand daughter.

A/n: This whole story is based off a working rp between me and my friend @ahelishgoodgirl because she told me that I should get into fanfic writing so... that’s what I’m doing :)

———————————————————————

Wind whips along trees, creating haunting sounds that whistle past my ears as I walk down the empty road into the busy city of Seoul. Left to my own devices, I had been admitted to an asylum for five years but yesterday was my eighteenth birthday which mean I left today. A relief if you ask me, the amount of horrid therapy and drugs they injected into my system left me surprised I wasn’t dead or an addict.

My converse patter slowly on the soaked concrete ground, having rained early hours of this morning and still not drying up even as it’s dark now. My foster parents never visited me during my time at the asylum, made me realise that I practically don’t have anyone... no one at all. Thankfully my mind had forgotten about the seven men I’d see, whom speak to me in my dreams and what they’d tell me each time. Maybe it was the electro shock therapy that made them disappear.

Looking at the address scribbled on lined paper that I solely gripped onto I looked up at the house I once remembered growing up in... now no longer lively but a shit hole. Bricks crumbled from the wooden stables that held this home together, windows smashed... garden over grown and graffiti everywhere. Compared to the other houses surrounding the street... this was the only dead one here. Begrudgingly I enter past the police tape strewn beside the front door frames, looking around confused as my feet take me up torn carpet stairs, finding my old room and seeing it... gone. Either looters... or someone was trying to find something because everything was everywhere. It was clear mother and father were not here.

“Bastards..” I whispered, soon finding an old teddy of mine, my pink bunnie. It was dirty now, no longer got that beautiful pink tint it had... but now muddy... dirty. That’s how I felt now standing here. Walking back downstairs I check around some more, seeing nothing but empty beer bottles or needles. That was until I head movement down in the basement, my bones freezing as I gulped and walked to the door under the stairs, slowly opening it and walking down. “Hello?” My feet once again thud along the wooden stair case that was rotting away.

The sound you heard was a man who had taken asylum in the basement. He was a drugged up junkie who could barely tell what was real and what was fake. He looked up at your scared body. “Hello there” he smiled “I remember you, there is a picture of you in the hallway” he laughed “what’s the matter little girl? Are you sad about something?” He asked a needle in his arm “you’re the daughter that made it right?” He said leaning back “it’s a shame the people who lived here got attacked... by animals” he chuckled eyes slightly closing. “They shouldn’t of let the door open. Inviting things they shouldn’t... shame shame but not for me as I have a home now” he laughed trying to stand, he failed but it was obvious he wanted to reach you.

“Uh...” I stepped back, frowning at the ‘animal attack’ as how could anyone let an animal in?

“What do you mean ‘shouldn’t be letting anything in?’” I asked, looking at him. Frowning at the needle in his arm I stayed on the lower step, keeping my distance. The man laughed and laughed, he didn’t answer your question at all. Instead he slowly drifted off to sleep. There was nothing I could say, it was as if the wind was calling you out. A few miles into the woods stood a huge torn palace with 7 dark secrets inside.

Frowning I back out of the house, exiting the home I had to forget as I shook my head. The wind whispers to my ears, making me look to the woods. “Huh?” Slowly I step into the tree line, seeing almost an apparition float through the trees... a child. “Hello?” I called out, starting to follow this strange child.

“Follow” he whispered and walked into the woods. The child kept looking back every now and then to make sure you were following. He was pretty much silent, he knew you’d follow, you had nothing to lose. Did you? Before you knew it you stood in front of an enormous house. “In” the kid whispered pointing at the front door.

“Are you sure?” I softly whispered, slowly walking up to the doors of what appeared to be some worn down palace.

“What is this place?” As I turned to see the little boy... he was gone. It made me frown but I creeped inside anyways, looking around and covering my nose at all the dust so it wouldn’t make me sneeze. That’s when I heard voices.

“Tell us!” Someone said “where is the girl? The last of the name you so much hate?” Suho asked, slapping around the starving vampires who were chained to the walls. They wouldn’t speak, too weak to say anything and too weak to even try. Blood is what they craved at the moment and they swore if they had the opportunity they would rip this bastards apart. One of the vampires, yoongi looked up at him and softly chuckled. “The fuck are you making fun of blood sucker?” He asked before punching him.

Hearing voices I frowned, sounding as if a fight was going to break out as I walked towards a door. I tried to listen in against the rotting wood of the door but failed, tripping over my own feet and stumbling into the room as I looked up at a strange group of men in hunting gear with wide eyes. But then... I looked over to the seven ‘things’ who had haunted my whole life... chained to a wall.

“W-what...”

“Who the hell are you?” Asked baekhyun who furrowed his eyebrows and came close to you. “Psh just a stupid human. What say ye? A little snack for the blood suckers?” He laughed making the rest shake their heads “nah they aren’t deserving of it.. why not have a little fun with her? Each one gets a turn?” Suho smirked licking his lips.

“Y-you... what...” my eyes were more focused on the seven beaten up males who haunted my mind and practically sent me to an insane asylum. That’s when I turned to look at the other men. “You fucking touch me and I’ll kick your ass, I didn’t get sent to an insane asylum for nothing.” I glared at the strange men who were talking about me. It was more flight or fight defense, my words meaning nothing but to keep a facade up.

“Insane asylum fellas” baek laughed grabbing you by the hair and throwing you onto the ground. “Careful, we all want to have a taste” they laughed. Yoongi one of the vampires took a liking to you, pretty, just like his long dead wife. “Pshh” he whispered while the men talked about who would have the first turn “give me a little blood and I’ll save you” he said.

Looking up at one of the males who haunted my dreams I scoffed. “Like hell! You seven... strange men haunted me ever since I was a little girl! I’m not giving you shit so thanks for sending me to an asylum!” I huffed, glaring at him.

“We did?” Yoongi asked, it clicked on his head who you were but the hunters didn’t know. “Fine then I hope you’re not a virgin... they’ll tear you apart” he smirked “so then me” yelled baekhyun who turned to undress you or at least pull your panties down. “Stop it honey, if you fight it’ll be worse” Yoongi looked over at you scoffing “just a little blood” he whispered.

I screamed as I tried to kick the hunter away, looking at the male before having no choice but to cut my hand open on a rusted nail poking out of the ground, holding it up to his lips so he could drink. “Q-quick!” I said, knowing I was a virgin and I wasn’t ready yet.

Yoongi smirked taking a sweet bite, he drank a little less than half of your blood and escaped the painful chains. Breaking his brothers chains “don’t touch her” he said, he wanted to hurt you now that he knew who you were but at the same time he wanted to protect you. “Weapons boys” suho yelled, baek being thrown back by Yoongi. The guys didn’t waste a minute sucking him dry.

I covered myself back up, heart racing as I managed to crawl over to the door. I needed to get out of here, chills were being sent down my spine whilst I ran to the front door to escape.

Yoongi got away from the hunters “where do you think you’re going helsing?” He chuckled picking you up with ease, his lips met yours with a burning intensity. You were his blood type and yet he couldn’t figure out where his dead wife was even though your blood was the key but something linked him to you. Something kept stopping him from killing you.

My eyes widened as I instantly shoved him away, holding my mouth. “The hell are you doing? My name isn’t helsing!” I huffed, frowning as my last name was l/n.

“You’re adopted! Helsing is your real name like it or not” he smirked “what am I doing? What I want with what belongs to me” he said kissing you again, “you’ll die if I don’t make you mine. They figure it out and your gone, you won’t make it past hmm 19?” He laughed.

“What? I’m so confused... how am I gonna die?” I huffed, shoving him away as I stepped back.

“I’m not yours at all!”

There were screeching screams inside the house. “Don’t you see what we are? We can tear you apart in seconds. In the end it’s your choice unless you state you want to be with me. But if you don’t then I’ll start digging your grave” he laughed “don’t believe me?” He asked, 2 of his brothers came out. “Now that we’re all better and our head is clear... along with yours sweetheart we can get in your mind. Again...” Namjoon smirked

“Have you missed us like we missed you?”

41 notes · View notes

hunter-the-sad-skeleton · 4 years ago

Text

Darkwing Duck Fanfic Chapter 2

Summary: “Hunter and Bushroot learn more about each other. But at what cost?”

Warnings: Implied swearing, implied abuse, implied depression, self deprecation, implied self-harm, stim shaming, ask to tag.

Final word count: 4757

Tag list:(Feel free to ask to be added or removed!) @pidayforpi

Chapter two “Full disclosure, I am a monster!”

Hunter woke up early, almost sneaking out before remembering she hadn’t gotten the new passcode for the door yet. Hunter looked around for another exit, eventually sneaking out through a sewer grate. Getting into hiding, Hunter oriented herself, eventually pinpointing where she was in the city. Hunter remembered the city layout, reaching into her backpack and pulling out a list and her wallet. Taking a deep breath, Hunter walked off to the flower shop to replace the flowers she’d lost the night prior.

Hunter read the flower shop’s sign, boasting bright, colorful letters saying “Flora’s flowers and bouquets!”. Hunter took a deep breath, walking in, trying to occupy as little space as possible, despite the shop being relatively empty. “Can I help y’all?” A voice asked from behind Hunter.

“O-O-Oh, I-I-I-I-I uh….” Hunter stammered, fumbling for her list. “Flowers…?” Hunter asked sheepishly.

“We have those in excess, or else we wouldn’t be in business right now!” She joked.

“Duh! Sorry, don’t people well…” Hunter apologized.

“Oh, don’t worry hun, you’re fine!” She chuckled.

“I, uh, ooh…” Hunter stammered.

“I’m Flora, this little shop’s owner!” Flora said, holding her hand out.

Hunter drew back a bit, but eventually took her hand in a handshake. “I...H...n...Hunter…!” Hunter stammered.

“Hunter, huh? What’re ya lookin’ to pick?” Flora asked.

Hunter stumbled to look at her list, listing off a few flowers. “Do ya have any of those…?” Hunter asked sheepishly.

“Yeah, we have Roses, Chrysanthemums, Carnations, Hydrangeas, Daffodils, and gardenias!” Flora nodded.

“Where might they be…?” Hunter asked nervously.

“Right this way, Hunter!” Flora said, gesturing for her to follow.

“Okay..!” Hunter nodded, following sheepishly.

“Say, do ya happen to know Elmo Sputterspark by any chance?” Flora asked, grabbing the flowers Hunter requested.

Hunter froze, weighing her options. She couldn’t say she knew him through the fearsome five! “Uh….I...did, in like, High School.” Hunter stammered.

“I thought as much; ya have some of the same mannerisms as him!” Flora beamed. “You’re nervous around people, ya stumble over your words, ya fidget, I sorta figured you ‘n’ him knew each other!” Flora said, finishing up the bouquet, walking over to the counter, Hunter following behind, pulling her wallet out to pay for it.

“How much?” Hunter asked.

“$25.89, Hun!” Flora said.

Hunter nodded, paying for the flowers.

“Have a good day, hun!” Flora said, waving goodbye as Hunter left.

Hunter walked out, putting the flowers safely in her backpack and getting ready to head home. “I’m telling you, Gosalyn, flowers are going to make home seem more homey!” Drake sighed. Hunter moved out of the way, letting the three walk inside.

“Yeah, yeah-wait, Dad, did you see that?” Gosalyn asked, realizing that Hunter was outside.

“See what? You trying to get out of an errand?” Drake asked sarcastically.

“No, Dad! I saw one of the Fearsome Five outside the store!” Gosalyn protested.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s nice hon-WAIT WHAT?!?” Drake gasped.

“Yeah, I saw Hunter outside putting something in her backpack!” Gosalyn explained.

“No doubt stolen goods! Come on, crew! Home decor can wait!” Drake said, walking back out.

Hunter smiled softly, making sure the flowers were safe inside her backpack. “I hope he likes ‘em…! I picked ‘em out just for him!” Hunter smiled softly.

“I AM THE TERROR THAT FLAPS IN THE NIGHT!!” A voice announced, instantly filling Hunter with dread.

“Oh, come ON!!” Hunter groaned.

“I AM THE DANDELIONS YOU CAN’T REMOVE FROM THE GARDEN OF CRIME!!” Darkwing continued, Hunter rolling her eyes.

“I AM DARKWIIING DUCK!!” Darkwing finished.

“Look dude, I ain’t here to cause trouble; I’m JUST getting flowers for my friend.” Hunter scoffed.

“Getting in ILLEGAL ways, I’m certain!” Darkwing announced.

“Nah. Paid legally.” Hunter shrugged.

“As I-wait what?” Darkwing asked, confused.

“I. PAID. LEGALLY. FOR. THESE. FLOWERS. SIR.” Hunter annunciated.

Darkwing shook his head. “Surely not, villain!” Darkwing announced dramatically.

“Look, if ya want evidence, ask Flora inside, arright? I have somewhere to be.” Hunter scoffed.

“Exactly!” Darkwing said, grappling onto a nearby object and preparing to swing towards Hunter. “Behind bars!” Darkwing finished, swinging over and knocking Hunter over.

“Ow!!” Hunter yelped, holding her left arm as she landed on it. “Why you little-” Hunter started before getting decked in the face. “What the Helenium, Cactus?!?” Hunter snapped, cradling her arm.

“Did you just swear in PLANT NAMES?!” Darkwing gawked.

“What the FICUS did you just say to me, you Moluccella?!” Hunter snapped.

“Okay, this is just getting weird.” Darkwing groaned, pulling out his gas gun. “Suck gas, evildoer!” Darkwing announced, firing before Hunter could cover her beak.

“Hey!! Kaff kaff!!” Hunter coughed. Darkwing saw his opportunity, taking it and landing as many hits on her as he could.

“Your petal pilfering is past its prime, you puny problematic private parasite!” Darkwing smirked.

Hunter looked up, seeing that the flowers fell out of her backpack and were once again, destroyed in the skirmish. “Daisy it!!” Hunter growled. “I was SO CLOSE this time!!” Hunter lamented.

“You’re finished!” Darkwing announced.

“No…..I’m not.” Hunter growled. Hunter slowly got up, picking up her backpack and standing up straight before collapsing onto one knee. “FAGUS!!!” Hunter yelped, dropping her backpack and practically collapsing.

“Whoa, what happened there?” Launchpad asked, confused.

“I...Don’t know, LP.” Darkwing shrugged.

“I know what it is!” Gosalyn said, looking around in the Ratcatcher for something.

Hunter tried standing up again, collapsing again as pain shot through her leg. Hunter tensed up as Gosalyn walked over with a small suitcase. “What are you doing?” Hunter asked suspiciously.

Gosalyn held up the small suitcase showing that it was a first-aid kit. “I’m not gonna hurt ya, even if you’re a bad guy. When someone’s hurt, they’re hurt, and I highly doubt ya have health insurance.” Gosalyn explained.

Hunter remained cautious, Darkwing pulling Gosalyn away. “Gos, what are you doing? She’s a VILLAIN.” Darkwing lectured.

“Darkwing, she’s HURT! You’re supposed to help people!” Gosalyn scolded.

“UNless they are a VILLAIN. Which she IS.” Darkwing scolded.

Gosalyn looked between Darkwing and Hunter, noticing how badly Hunter’s leg looked. “Darkwing…” Gosalyn whined.

“I don’t wanna hear ANY OF IT, young lady, back into the Ratcatcher with you.” Darkwing warned.

Gosalyn huffed, stomping over to the Ratcatcher and plopping down inside it. Darkwing turned to look at Hunter. “As for you, VILLAIN, you’re coming with me.” Darkwing scowled.

Hunter shook her head, getting up and almost collapsing again, picking her backpack up and hobbling back to the hideout. “Come on, LP, let’s-” Darkwing started.

“DW, come on, she’s hurt! Let’s leave her be!” Launchpad said.

“What!? You too?!?” Darkwing bawked.

“Yeah, DW. Ya may be a hero, but a true hero knows when to leave things alone!” Launchpad advised.

Darkwing grumbled to himself, eventually giving in. “FINE! I’ll leave her alone!” Darkwing sighed heavily.

Hunter hobbled back to the hideout, despite the sheer pain shooting through her leg. Hunter sat down on a bench near the hideout, resting for a bit. “Fagus, my leg hurts…” Hunter whimpered. Hunter looked down at the water below her, tearing up at what she saw; a complete and utter FAILURE. She couldn’t even get FLOWERS properly. What made her think she could work alongside Bushroot and the others? Hunter rubbed the tears away, only for them to be replaced tenfold.

Before she knew it, she was sobbing heavily, not in the right mindset to pay attention to her surroundings if anyone was around or watching. Hunter hiccuped, blowing her beak in her hoodie. “Why am I such a failure…?!” Hunter hiccuped, beating herself up. Hunter sniffled, wiping her eyes again.

Hunter froze, hearing a familiar sound; tiny leaf-paws hitting the ground. She perked up slightly, but the happiness was gone as soon as she realized that Bushroot would most likely be disappointed in her for sneaking out again. Hunter felt something bump against her leg, but didn’t respond, she didn’t have enough energy to. Hunter heard something whine; she didn’t respond. She didn’t have enough energy to.

Hunter jumped slightly as she felt something plop into her lap, looking down at Spike’s head looking up at her. Hunter teared up, gently grabbing Spike and pulling him into a hug, sobbing heavily. “I’m so sorry-hee-hee, Spi-hi-hi-hiiike!!!” Hunter sobbed, hugging Spike tightly.

Spike whined, gently nuzzling Hunter in an attempt to make her feel better. Hunter sniffled, slowly starting to calm down. “Oh! Spike! You found her! Good work, boy!” Bushroot sighed in relief, speeding over.

Hunter hiccuped, standing up and struggling to make eye contact. After a few moments of silence, Hunter hugged Bushroot, apologizing heavily. “Hey now, it’s okay, I was just worried is all! You didn’t leave a note or anything!” Bushroot assured, patting her on the head. Hunter looked up, worry and sadness wrought all over her face.

“Y-You’re not mad at me…?” Hunter asked sadly.

“Oh goodness no! I typically never get mad! Especially over something as little as this!” Bushroot smiled softly.

“Bushy, I’m gonna cry again…!” Hunter chuckled dryly.

“That’s okay, get it all out!” Bushroot nodded, not getting that Hunter was sort of joking. Hunter chuckled, eventually breaking out laughing. “There’s that sound I like to hear!” Bushroot beamed.

Hunter went to stand alone, but collapsed back onto the bench, yelping in pain as pain shot through her leg. “OW!!!” Hunter yelped, tearing up again.

“O-O-O-O-O-Oh my goodness, are you alright?” Bushroot asked, rushing to her side.

“L-Leg…” Hunter whimpered, tears running down her face again.

“Wh-What happened?” Bushroot asked.

“Dorkwing….” Hunter grumbled, forcing herself back up and ignoring the pain shooting through her leg, not allowing herself to give up until she was somewhere safe.

“How did you even get out? I didn’t tell you the new door passcode, did I?” Bushroot asked, staying close by just in case Hunter collapsed again.

“There was a sewer grate a little whiles away that I snuck out through.” Hunter explained.

Bushroot sighed heavily. “I know you probably had a good reason, but I feel...a little...Hurt,” Hunter’s heart HURT hearing that. “That you sneak out so often.” Bushroot lamented. Bushroot stopped Hunter, making eye contact. “You can talk to me.” Bushroot started.

“Did I do something wrong?” Bushroot asked sadly. Hunter’s heart shattered.

“N-No-N-No! Not at all, Reggie! I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I promise!” Hunter stammered, breaking eye contact on accident as anxiety started settling in.

“.....I did, didn’t I…?” Bushroot asked, remembering that breaking eye contact typically meant the other party was lying.

Hunter stumbled for words, unsure of what to say. She couldn’t tell him why she snuck out, that would ruin the surprise for him! She didn’t wanna do that! “A-Any plans for the day, B-Bushroot?” Hunter asked sheepishly.

“No, not really. I’m...not really feeling up to it today.” Bushroot sighed.

“A-Are ya sure…?” Hunter asked gently.

“Yeah, pretty sure.” Bushroot said, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe ya just need to get out there…!” Hunter said, smiling nervously.

“Hunter. NO.” Bushroot warned, frowning slightly.

“I mean, it always makes me feel better…!” Hunter urged gently.

“N. O. NO.” Bushroot warned darkly.

Hunter, still ignoring the pain in her leg, tried pushing Bushroot away from the hideout. “C-Come on, bud…!” Hunter urged.

“Hunter, NO. Why are you being so WEIRD recently?!” Bushroot asked.

“I-I just wanna help ya out, Bushroot! You help me out, I wanna return the favor!” Hunter explained.

“Hunter, stop it.” Bushroot grumbled.

“Come on, Bushroot, one crime and you’ll be back in a good mood…!” Hunter said sadly.

“Hunter, I said NO. Give it a rest.” Bushroot warned.

“Bushroot, please…!” Hunter whimpered.

“Hunter, something’s going on, and I, quite frankly, want to know WHAT. Now SPILL.” Bushroot growled.

Hunter whimpered, biting the bullet and pulling the long past dead flowers out of her backpack. “............Dipwing screwed it up...AGAIN.” Hunter whimpered.

Bushroot sighed, running his hands through his petals. “You went off to grab flowers AGAIN?” Bushroot asked, trying to stay calm.

Hunter grimaced, tensing up. “I know it’s stupid and I KNOW I should give up on it, but it’s so important to me that I do it and….” Hunter took a deep breath, calming down. “And...I wanna prove that I can get tasks done, if I put myself to them.” Hunter finished, making eye contact again.

Bushroot froze, all past thoughts of anger and frustration gone and replaced with understanding and sympathy. “Why don’t you ask me for them?” Bushroot asked.

Hunter shook her head. “No, I wanna show I can perform simple tasks like going to the flower shop to buy flowers.” Hunter declined.

Bushroot hummed, holding his chin in thought. “I can see how I’m feeling later, but I’m not promising anything.” Bushroot said.

“Gotcha, Bushroot!” Hunter nodded.

“Good. And Hunter?” Bushroot asked.

“Yeah, Bushroot?” Hunter asked.

“Go back to calling me Reggie, it feels weird hearing you call me Bushroot.” Bushroot said, laughing gently.

Hunter sighed in relief. “Okay, Reggie.” Hunter said, smiling tiredly. Bushroot ruffled Hunter’s feathers, earning a squeak of protest as Hunter tried swatting his hand away.

“Sorry if I got a little heated there, it just hurts is all…” Bushroot apologized. Bushroot could have sworn he saw Hunter’s smile drop for a moment, but when he looked again, she was still smiling. Weird.

(Later, in a hidden room in the hideout.)

Hunter shoved herself in a corner, Anxiety, Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, and self hatred all hitting at once in an all-out-assault on her psyche. If this were any other occasion, she would have asked Bushroot for his help, but that’s any other occasion. Bushroot was the reason Hunter’s psyche was being destroyed by itself.

Hunter hadn’t had an anxiety attack this bad in ages, why was it so bad now? She wanted to ask for help, but she’d already inconvenienced Bushroot once, she didn’t want to do it again. Even if she was on the brink of blacking out.

Hunter tried stilling her breathing, but only made her hyperventilating worse, Hunter falling forward onto her hands and knees, gasping desperately for breath. Hunter mentally screamed at herself to call out for Bushroot, but nothing more than choked breathes were heard.

Tears rolled down Hunter’s face. Why’d she have to be so selfish?! Why couldn’t she just let it go?! Hunter coughed and wheezed as she tried to calm down, but her breathing didn’t improve. She noticed her vision start to go blurry and her panic only furthered.

After a while, Hunter’s arms and legs gave out and she fell to the floor, blacked out cold.

(Elsewhere.)

Spike looked around the room, whining as he noticed Hunter wasn’t in the room with them. “What’s the matter, Spike?” Bushroot asked, looking over from his experiment. Spike whined, gesturing that Hunter wasn’t in the room.

“Hmm...that is odd and concerning…” Bushroot hummed. Spike whined, worried about her disappearance. “She probably isn’t outside...Spike, go look around for her, would you?” Bushroot asked. Spike nodded, setting off to find Hunter.

(With Spike)

Spike sniffed around, picking up Hunter’s scent quickly. Picking up Hunter’s scent, Spike sped up, following the scent to a dark, hidden room, whining before going in and finding Hunter blacked out.

(With Bushroot)

Bushroot perked up at hearing a far off barking, but shrugged it off as Spike finding a butterfly or something. “Spike, stay focused!” Bushroot scolded.

The barks kept going, but seemed more panicked than distracted. “Spike, calm down!” Bushroot called. Bushroot grew worried as the barks were more frantic and set everything he was holding down to go run over to Spike to see what the problem was.

“Spike, what’s happened that’s causing you to cause such a ruckus?” Bushroot asked, walking in. As soon as Bushroot saw what was in the room, he froze dead in his tracks. He held onto the doorframe to remain standing, shock trailing through his cells.

“Sp...Sp...Spike…? What happened…?” Bushroot asked, legs slowly moving him closer. Spike whined, trying to wake Hunter up, but not succeeding. Bushroot collapsed next to Hunter, taking her pulse. He sighed in relief; something was still there.

Bushroot assessed the situation, deducting that she just had a really bad Anxiety attack and passed out due to lack of oxygen. Bushroot whistled for some of his smaller trees to come into the room so Hunter could regain oxygen quickly.

After a while, Hunter eventually shifted, Bushroot feeling hope well up in his chest. Thank goodness she was okay. “Mm…” Hunter groaned, rubbing the extra sleep from her eyes.

“You’re okay!” Bushroot exclaimed, wrapping his arms around Hunter in a tight squeeze of a hug. Hunter wheezed as the air was squeezed out of her, but quickly gained it back.

“R-Reggie…?” Hunter peeped.

“Are you okay? Do you need anything? Water? Food? Backpack? Spike? Flowers? Notebook?” Bushroot asked, worried that his friend may have gotten hurt.

Hunter was astonished; after everything, he still wanted to be friends with her? “Reggie...I….” Hunter stammered. Hunter rubbed her head where she landed when she fell. “Ow…” Hunter grimaced.

“Hmm...looks like it’s bruised...Hold on, I think I have some Arnica around here somewhere…” Bushroot hummed. As Bushroot thought, an Arnica bush hopped up to him. “Oh! Why, thank you!” Bushroot smiled at the bush, making an ointment for the bruise.

“Wow...You’re a real plant whisperer…” Hunter gawked. Bushroot gave Hunter a look like ‘bud, really?’

“I should hope so,” Bushroot started, rubbing some of the concoction on the bruise. “I AM a plant duck hybrid after all.” Bushroot finished, wrapping the bruise so it could be covered until it was fully gone. “There we go! Should clear up in a fairly good time frame!” Bushroot smiled gently.

Hunter smiled back, saying a silent thank you. “Just one question though…” Bushroot started, Hunter’s heart dropping. “I know you approved us being Best Friends Forever and all, but…” Bushroot sighed.

“Why didn’t you ask me for help?” Bushroot asked.

Hunter grimaced. “Before you say ‘I didn’t wanna burden you, I’ve already bothered you once today’, I don’t care about that. We’re Best Friends Forever...Best Friends help each other out more than once a day. Be as blunt as you need for explanation.” Bushroot said sternly.

“I…...I felt super guilty about earlier today…” Hunter admitted.

“What? Why?” Bushroot asked, gobsmacked.

“Because….B...Because...I hurt you...Not physically, but...emotionally...That’s not a thing Best Friends Forevers do…” Hunter frowned.

“Hunter..” Bushroot gawked.

“When you said I hurt you, I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I felt so horrible…! I-I-I-I felt like I was the worst person on earth…! I felt like scum…! I felt less than scum, I felt like a worthless fungal parasite…!” Hunter frowned.

Bushroot frowned, sympathy washing over him. “I’m sorry I hurt you, I felt SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO bad afterwards that I holed up here to deal with my whole Anxiety attack cause I didn’t wanna bug you again…!” Hunter rambled. Hunter continued rambling, only to stop when Bushroot put a hand on her shoulder, turning her to face him.

“Hunter Artemis Puddles, you are one of the most brilliant people I have ever met. I understand not wanting to bother me, really, I do! But when it’s something this horrible, it’s not a bother at all. We’re Best Friends Forever. We’re here for each other. Through thick and thin, through hardships big and small. We can be there for each other through it all.” Bushroot said seriously.

“R...Really…?” Hunter asked.

Bushroot nodded. “Hm...You mentioned your memory works better with song...How about a little melody to remember?” Bushroot asked.

“Nah, dude, I can’t sing!” Hunter said shyly.

“Well, I can, if you would like.” Bushroot informed.

“O….Okay…!” Hunter nodded. Bushroot took a deep breath, already thinking up lyrics.

“Best Friends Forever, bothersome never...shoulder to cry on, here together to get by on...Thick and thin, hardships big, hardships small, together we can make it through it all…~!” Bushroot hummed.

Hunter hummed along, thinking up a beat. “Hmm…” Hunter hummed. Bushroot raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Best Friends Forever, you’re my first one ever...All alone I feel dry as bone, but with you I feel brand new….~!” Hunter added.

“Wowza, you’re good at this!” Bushroot smiled.

“Oh, no, I’m-I’m really not!” Hunter blushed.

“I think it’s a lovely little melody!” Bushroot nodded.

“Yeah, short, sweet, and to the point!” Hunter nodded.

“You know, you said you can’t sing, but you sang pretty well!” Bushroot complemented.

Hunter chuckled shyly, rubbing the back of her neck. “Aww...You too..!” Hunter chortled.

Bushroot chuckled, mood lighting up.

Hours passed and the two eventually decided to spend the night just planning instead of doing stuff.

“By the way, Hunter,” Bushroot started, pausing the planning. “Do you know what those flowers you picked up meant?” Bushroot asked.

Hunter froze. “They...look...Pretty…?” Hunter lied.

Bushroot chuckled. “No, no, no! They have meaning! Chrysanthemums symbolize happiness, longevity, joy, and loyalty, light red Carnations symbolize admiration, white Gardenias symbolize purity and gentleness, Daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings, and purple hydrangeas symbolize a desire to deeply understand someone!” Bushroot explained.

“O-Oh…! I just thought they looked pretty..!” Hunter lied.

“Oh, they do! And then the roses you picked yesterday, dark pink roses, symbolize thankfulness for appreciation!” Bushroot added.

“Huh…” Hunter hummed, despite knowing this already.

“Oh! Oh, oh, oh! If you wanna show someone admiration, just give them a good old fashioned Camellia! Those babies mean love, affection AND admiration!” Bushroot rambled.

“Really?” Hunter gasped, humoring the other duck, seeing as he listened to her for a good portion of the day.

“Oh yes, yes, yes! And not to mention they’re beautiful, too!” Bushroot nodded eagerly.

Hunter smiled softly, listening to him infodump about plants and flowers and the symbolism some of them had. “What’s your favorite flower, Hunter?” Bushroot asked.

Hunter was taken back by the sudden question. Someone wanted to know more about her? Normally, she never was able to hold a conversation! “Well, uh, I, uh...I like violets and bluebells…” Hunter said shyly.

“Ah! Some good picks!” Bushroot beamed. “Those two have WONDERFUL meanings!” Bushroot nodded.

“What do they mean?” Hunter asked.

“Well, Violets symbolize truth and loyalty while Bluebells symbolize gratitude and humanity! But, they could ALSO symbolize constancy and everlasting love!” Bushroot informed eagerly.

Hunter’s eyes sparkled like sapphires left out in the rain as the sun came out, sunlight bouncing around on each cut. “Whoa…” Hunter gawked.

“Sorry, have I been rambling too much?” Bushroot asked nervously. Hunter shook her head.

“No, no, no! This is interesting to me! You’re WAAAY better than my english teacher was with teaching me this stuff!” Hunter explained.

“Oh, really?” Bushroot asked, surprised.

“Yeah! Like, he was nice ‘n’ all, but nothing he taught me stuck with me for dirt!” Hunter chuckled.

“Oh my!” Bushroot smiled softly. “Would...Would you mind if I rambled for a little bit longer? Sorry, it’s just I never really get to talk to anyone about this stuff and I don’t know what to do with the information and-” Bushroot worried.

“Reginald, I’d love to hear you ramble more about plants! You listened to me, why don’t I do the same?” Hunter asked gently.

Bushroot’s eyes sparkled with joy, excited that he could talk about plants as much as he wanted-and someone would LISTEN to him! “Well, if you’re so sure…!” Bushroot grinned, vibrating in excitement.

Hunter smiled softly as Bushroot launched into an excited ramble about plants, flora, whatever plant crossed his mind. Hunter felt something she hadn’t felt in ages. She felt...Genuinely happy. And all it took was two days of failure, an Anxiety, Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, and Panic attack, a leg injury, a mutant-no, a duck, and a cute venus flytrap that had a good sense of smell.

But even so...Something was still in the back of her mind. Something was telling her that she didn’t deserve this, that she was too horrible to be happy. Others were in worse straits than her, why should SHE be happy?

Hunter snapped back to reality, paying attention to Bushroot again, hoping she didn’t miss much. Hunter smiled again, glad that Bushroot didn’t notice she spaced out for a bit there. “Wow, that felt...Amazing!!” Bushroot squealed, hopping in place.

Hunter chuckled, a genuine smile crossing her face. “Oh! Look at that! You’re happy too!” Bushroot beamed.

Hunter froze a moment, realizing that he was right. She felt her face for a moment. He...He was right. The smile...It wasn’t forced! It was a real smile! She felt a rush of energy and-”no, stop, stop flapping, that’s weird, people are going to laugh at you.” Hunter’s mind screamed.

Hunter froze, shoving her hands into her hoodie pockets and mumbling out a ‘sorry’.

“What for? That was adorable!” Bushroot smiled.

Hunter had to do a double take. “Really? It’s not...Weird?” Hunter asked.

“No, of course not! If anything, it adds to my understanding of you!” Bushroot said.

Hunter chuckled dryly. “C-Can I…?” Hunter trailed off. Bushroot nodded.

“Yes indeedy!” Bushroot nodded.

Hunter squealed, flapping to get the extra stim energy out. Eventually, Hunter got it all out and her smile was wider than before.

“Aw...You’re happy! And you thought today was a bad day!” Bushroot joked.

Hunter didn’t know why, she didn’t know how, but she just...Burst out laughing. She had no reason to, she just...felt like it. “Why do I feel so fuzzy?” Hunter laughed.

“Oh! You’d be feeling ‘Euphoria’!” Bushroot explained.

“Euphowhat?” Hunter asked.

“Euphoria! It’s a state of feeling intense excitement or joy!” Bushroot explained.

“Huh?” Hunter asked, confused.

“Basically, you feel really happy!” Bushroot simplified.

Hunter squeaked, eyes brighter than earlier. “It’s so weird how you make me feel so...so..s-so…” Hunter stammered.

“At peace? Happy?” Bushroot asked.

“Yeah! Why is that?” Hunter asked.

“Well, it could be that the excess of trees is helping to clear your mind and make it easier for endorphins to pass into your mind!” Bushroot suggested.

“What…?” Hunter trailed off.

“The extra air is making you think clearly, so you are able to feel happiness easier!” Bushroot explained.

“Oooh!” Hunter drawled. “I get it!” Hunter nodded.

Bushroot chuckled, finding the sudden mood shift from Hunter adorable. “Why don’t I see ya this happy often?” Bushroot asked innocently.

Hunter hid a flinch, returning to how she was acting. “Oh, I dunno! Maybe I’m just having a good day or something!” Hunter grinned. Bushroot nodded, unaware of the reaction Hunter had.

“You should Smile more.” Hunter’s brain lectured. “Frowning brings everyone down.” Her brain added. “Why aren’t you happy more often?” It asked.

Hunter kept up the appearance despite wanting to break down then and there.

The two talked a little longer, Bushroot eventually heading off to get some rest, leaving Hunter alone. Hunter sighed, not quite feeling tired yet, so she headed out to stargaze for a bit.

Hunter sat outside, despite the cold temperature, watching the stars intently. She felt like she was greeting an old friend, since the stars were practically all she had to talk to aside from her stuffed animals as a kid. She knew the constellations by heart, as that was the only thing she learned in school aside from art stuff that interested her.

As Hunter stargazed, she started spacing out and thinking about things. How large was the universe? How many people were in it? How FEW people were in it? Are they living in a pocket dimension? Is existence meaningless? She shook herself out of it; she didn’t need to be thinking about that right now. She already went down that road once earlier, and it still hurt a little bit, thanks to the cold.

Hunter sighed in relief, staring up at the night sky, taking it all in. It was beautiful, almost like a painting. As she scanned the horizon, her vision settled on the docks and the water surrounding it. She wondered how long she could be down there before she had to give up. She shook it off again.

Eventually, she started to feel the exhaustion of the day start to hit and she slowly started drifting off to sleep, too tired to walk back inside. She let her eyes shut and her body relaxed.

She felt slightly warmer, but didn’t bother to check why, at least she was warm.

Then she heard a Splash.

#My writing #Darkwing Duck Bushroot #Darkwing Duck Ocs #My Ocs #Hunter Puddles #Flora Peonia #Darkwing Duck Drake Mallard #Darkwing Duck #darkwing duck gosalyn #Darkwing Duck Launchpad #Ask To Tag #Tw: Implied swearing #Tw: Implied abuse #Tw: Implied depression #Tw: Self deprecation #Tw: Implied self harm #Tw: Stim shaming #sorta #Darkwing Duck Spike

1 note · View note

discorobak · 4 years ago

Text

28/09/2020: many thoughts head empty

i feel kinda like obi-wan in this gif right now. i survived 2 zoom meetings right now that lasted well over 2 hours together and all i got was a pounding headache which hasn’t stopped until now. i feel drained from energy and these 2 conferences were just simply organizational. the classes haven’t even started yet. they do on thursday though and i believe me when i say that i’m gonna shit my pants. this is a thousand times worse than starting high school had been. my future really depends on this. i keep on asking myself: “what the hell is going on with my life?” because i still feel like i’ve just turned 16.

my parents support me. or more accurately, they are convinced they do. i know they have good intentions, but i can’t help feeling the immense pressure they put on me. whenever i share with them some information i’ve learned about my schedules or what i need for the different classes, they keep on acting like they know everything better. the fact that my mom graduated form the same university years ago doesn’t help. today my dad gave me a long ass lecture about how i should express all my needs and problems verbally to my professors, how they’re never gonna help me unless i beg them and am constantly up their asses. i know for a fact that i have flaws and struggle with reality more than an average person does, but there’s nothing i hate more than being treated like a stupid person. because as someone wise once said: “i may be dumb, but i ain’t stupid”. and my dad gave me this talk just because i didn’t tell my year tutor that i have to commute to the uni from outside of the city. (which indeed i didn’t do, because he meant people that have to cross a longer distance - like 50 kilometers, whereas i live around 8 kilometers away from the city). that whole topic came up while our timetable was being discussed. it is terribly absurd, but we might have to attend online lectures online at home and then have an hour or so to get to the city to be on practical excercises. that’s why it may be hard for me to keep up, expecially because i’m dependent on the bus. but well, the year tutor didn’t mean people like me and he said so explicitly. i wasn’t going to fuss like a baby about my situation. but well, my father has other ideas of what i should do and you can call me whiny all you want, but i couldn’t help crying because of his words. because i don’t wanna be treated like a fucking idiot.

that was... a lot of ranting. but i can go on, because my mom really isn’t better. i bought myself a lab coat today and the first thing she said after she saw me wearing it was that i look fat in it. thanks mom, i wanted you to say exactly that :-D she didn’t use these exact words (in a direct translation from our language, she said i looked like a wardrobe - which basically meant wide, so fat). somehow that didn’t lift up my mood, shocking, right?

that’s why i feel so exhausted right now. i’ve really had enough of this day. but the worst thing is, i think, that my parents really don’t see the problem anywhere. they either don’t want to see it or don’t care. i have no idea which is worse.

that would be all for today, i know that was chaotic and maybe unpleasant to read, but i really needed this. i need a healthier way to release my frustrations than overeating and writing can be just that.

stay safe and may the force be with you always!!

maria

#nabootycall #journal #diary #personal #thoughts #medical school #med student #parents #expectations #rant #bullying #zoom call

1 note · View note

porkchop-ao3 · 5 years ago

Text

A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 37)

Horsemen, Apocalypses Part.2

A continuation from the last chapter, Arthur tries to deal with what has happened to reader. Contains: angst, some gory details, fluff.

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

Eventually, Hosea – one of the few men who had joined us in the house – rose to his feet and called out to Dutch from the top of the stairs.

"They're gone! You can come down now, though be prepared, there's rather a lot of…" Dutch called back, trailing off. "Pearson, Miss Grimshaw?"

"Come on folks, whoever can stomach it, get to work," Susan exclaimed, standing up as if nothing had just gone on, like everyone in the room wasn't at least a little bit scarred and practically needed a clean change of underwear. She was one hell of a woman, Miss Grimshaw.

I got up – well, dragged myself up on the balustrade – hugging the bucket to my chest. My nausea hadn't shifted, but I forced myself to move and headed for the stairs.

"Not you, we only just stopped the bleeding, you move too much it'll start up again," Susan warned, holding me back as people started filing down the stairs to help out. Some hung back, notably Molly and Mary-Beth, and Abigail with little Jack. I couldn't blame them, I certainly wasn't rushing downstairs to haul bodies about, I was rushing to see Arthur, see that he was safe, and to show him that I was.

Even so, I let everyone who was going to help pass first, only descending when Miss Grimshaw was gone and the stairway was clear. My legs shook every step down, so I held tightly to the banister. I met Arthur with one foot on the first step, heading up, he sighed out my name in relief and ran up to meet me halfway.

"You gonna help with these bodies, Arthur?" Dutch asked, not looking our way. Arthur's whole aura shifted at that; his face dropped into an irritated snarl, his shoulders hunched up and he looked about a second away from lashing out.

"We've got enough help, he's excused. Come on, Dutch, that girl was a hair's breadth from being killed today," Miss Grimshaw, the absolute angel, fought our corner.

"Very well," Dutch responded, his tone unhappy, yet accepting.

"Come on, princess," Arthur whispered, turning me around and sending me back upstairs.

I picked up the bucket of water still on the landing on the way to Arthur's room, and checked that there wasn't any stray blood on my backside before sitting down on his bed with it.

"I'm so goddamn relieved. Angel, I thought– I don't know. All I saw was you covered in blood an-and–” Arthur shook his head and dropped to his knees in front of me, gripping my hands, "those bastards," he breathed, closing his eyes and burying his face in my lap.

His hair was damp with sweat, and I could smell its muskiness mixed with the metallic scent of blood.

"I'm okay," I murmured vacantly, somewhat stunned to have him nuzzling into my lap, his breaths laboured and unsteady.

"I'm sorry I didn't stay with you, I would've.”

"I know, you had to be there for the others."

"Princess, I'm so sorry. So goddamn sorry, I can't even begin to tell you," he lifted his head and my heart skipped at the sight of his wet eyes, "you don't deserve any of this, you'd never– if it weren't for me, this gang, having you here where you don't belong–"

"I don't belong?" I squeaked and Arthur shook his head harshly, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Not that– this ain't no life for you. You're too good for this. You ain't never hurt anyone and this is exactly what I was scared of; you having to use that goddamn gun when I know it ain't like you."

"It's not your fault," I shook my head, my voice was hollow sounding, my heart too full of emotions for any single one to let another show, so I just seemed empty.

"You're a good person. I'm more certain of that than anything and in this gang you're gonna be changed, you're gonna get hurt and you'll end up seeing yourself become someone else and you won't be able to do nothing about it, trust me, I've seen it," Arthur spoke through clenched teeth, his eyes fixed on my chest, his hands squeezing mine so tight, "and it'll be my fault 'cause I never gave you the chance to go."

"Arthur, don't, I don't know what you're saying, you're making me nervous," my vision turned blurry, obscured by light shining on the moisture forming in my eyes.

"I'm sorry, angel," he shook his head, "I think it's worth considerin' getting out of here. You, I mean, just go; someplace safe."

"What?!" I gasped, shaking my head. He let go of my hands, lifting his, holding a finger up to me and shushing me softly. It was useless, everything overwhelmed me and I started to cry.

"Listen, listen, just for a while. You find somewhere quiet and at some point I'll join you, just– money. I need some money, this trolley job, I don't know, I just need enough and then I'll… I can go to you, and we… we can," he ran out of steam as he spoke, losing faith in his own idea, it seemed, "this is all such a mess."

I sniffed and dragged a hand across my cheek to dry my tears, then pushed my hand through my hair. My fingers tangled in clumpy stickiness and I realised my hair was far from clean. I picked something hard out of the rat's nest on my head, and almost vomited when I realised it was a piece of skull. I sobbed, fumbling for the bucket of water on the floor. Arthur helped me lift it and held it steady on my lap for me, his eyes distant as he thought deeply. I cupped handfuls of water and scrubbed at my hair, it tangled and knotted and was a complete mess but I did my best with what I had. I was so desperate for a bath, but I had to look somewhat presentable before heading out to Saint Denis to get one.

"I'm not going anywhere," I told him, breath shaky from crying, squeezing the orange water out of my hair, "I don't want to leave you, not knowing anything about where you are or what you're doing, not knowing if you've been caught by lawmen or killed. God no."

"No," he shook his head in understanding, "and maybe I can't send you away, maybe I'm too scared and selfish to do so. Christ, I don't know what to do. Why am I so fucking stupid?"

"Arthur, stop. You're not stupid and you ain't gotta know what to do. There's nothing we can do. I'm not leaving, not unless it's with you. And I can't ask you for that," I shook my head, moving the bucket of water aside once my hair felt a little better.

Arthur took my hands in his again, squeezing them, shuffling closer so his chest was pressed firm against my knees and our faces were closer.

"One day," he said, his head bobbing, "one day you will. I'll save some money, baby, and when the time is right…"

"The gang."

"Baby," his face crumpled with hurt and he tilted his head, "life keeps on making me choose, I can't keep making the same choice, getting nothin' but pain for it. I just need time, closure, I need to make sure these people they– they have a future," he spoke so quietly, like he was scared of who would hear.

I stared at him through the blurring of my eyes, my lip trembling. I didn't want to hear these words from him. I was terrified that they'd hurt me; whether he'd go back on them one day, or he'd live by them and I'd forever bear the guilt of him leaving his family for me.

"All I want is you," he breathed, wrapping a hand around the back of my neck and carefully pulling me down so our foreheads touched, "if I lost you… today put things into perspective for me, showed me just how much I– these things are hard for me to say, I'm scared if I say it, it's willing something bad to happen."

"I think I know," I told him through a sob.

"Yeah, you know. You're smart," he nodded, a shadow of a smile on his lips.

"I know 'cause I feel the same," I breathed and his eyes closed against tears that he refused to let go of. "Of course I do, you're all that matters to me. You and Rayna– Rayna!" I suddenly jumped and Arthur squeezed my hand, shushing me soothingly.

"All the horses are fine, she's fine," he reassured me, and I sighed in relief, "nobody got hurt besides you… are you in pain?"

I shook my head weakly. "Only a little bit," I told him, despite actually being in a fair bit of pain. A constant burning.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that," he murmured, then pressed a soft kiss to my lips, "that was too damn close."

"I'll be okay."

"What happened, exactly? Why were you over there?"

"I was tending to the horses and I heard a struggle. I think they were gonna kill Kieran. One of 'em was going for his gun and so I– if I hadn't shot him– I didn't want to kill anyone but I–" I sighed and squeezed my eyes shut.

Arthur got up and sat beside me on the bed, encircling me with his arms and pulling me tight into his chest, pressing his mouth to the top of my head.

"Don't you feel bad at all, you did what you had to. I'm proud of you, my darlin', I know it wouldn't've been easy for you."

"I need to thank Charles, if it wasn't for him, if he'd been half a second later," I shook my head, shuddering at the thought. Having my throat slit sounded like one of the worst ways to go.

"He's a good man, Charles," I felt him nod, "people like him, it's the reason I can't just leave all this without looking back."

"I know. It's okay."

"Sweetheart, I don't know what I can say, just… when the timing's right, you and me," he whispered, "right now, there ain't enough money and there's too much going on. Just know that I fully intend to give you a better life."

"Just focus on your family, Arthur, whatever happens, as long as you're safe and I'm with you, I don't care about anything else," I told him.

"My family… you're family, now. Angel, if things get worse," he started with a heavy sigh, "if things get real bad, and it's safer for you to be someplace else, away from me…"

"Arthur," I shook my head and turned, pressing my face into his chest.

"Just think about it, please. You ain't done anything the law knows about, they ain't lookin' at you. If you can get away and be safe if things go crazy, it'd make me feel much better," he pleaded with me, swaying just a little, moving us both gently.

"As long as you promise me you'd come back to me."

"Of course I would."

"My apologies for the intrusion," Dutch spoke, his voice coming out of nowhere, I hadn't heard anyone approach. Both Arthur and I jumped at his words and looked up to the open door.

Dutch was glancing between the two of us, his expression bare of any emotion, impossible to interpret. He focused on me after a moment.

"I came to see how you're doing, Miss Grimshaw explained that you'd been shaken up pretty good," he asked in a surprisingly gentle tone of voice. Or it was flat and emotionless, I couldn't quite tell.

"Oh, thank you," I said, then looked up at Arthur who's face betrayed his discomfort. He looked like someone caught red handed; I wondered how long Dutch had been standing there, whether he'd heard anything we'd said. "I'm alright," I added.

"You saved that boy; Kieran. I'm sure he'll wanna thank you properly," he told me and I shifted uncomfortably. In all honesty, I'd been saving myself when I pulled the gun. I felt a little fraudulent.

"Well, I'm just glad we all got out of that mess alive."

"Me too, Miss," he nodded, "Arthur, I realise I was perhaps a little short with you today. I hope you understand, I was simply looking out for everyone here, and we were all on edge."

"I understand," Arthur responded without hesitation, the words coming out quick and curt.

"So, you two are serious about each other?"

"Yes," Arthur told him.

"Alright, Arthur. I suppose this has been going on for a while, now, and I get the distinct impression I was the last to know."

"It weren't on purpose–" Arthur started, but Dutch held up his hand.

"I won't ask why you hid it. But I don't like secrets," he interrupted, and we remained quiet until he continued, "anyway, you use this evening to relax, get your head clear; tomorrow, meet me in Saint Denis for the trolley station job. We need money, and we need it fast so we can get out of here."

"Okay, Dutch," Arthur nodded.

"I'll leave you two in peace," were his parting words. He looked to me once more, nodding his head politely before leaving. He never smiled, though, and it unnerved me.

Arthur took my hand in his, running his fingers in light swirls across the back of it. He must've felt the way it was shaking.

"You should eat something," he told me, "let's go see if there's anything left in Pearson's pot, hm?"

"I won't be able to stomach eating till I've had a proper bath," I sighed.

"Well then, let's ride to the city and get you one," he gave me a small but warm smile.

I nodded my head and he led me by the hand out of his room and downstairs. The gang had been working hard to clean the mess up, evidently, since it looked as though nothing had happened. All of the bodies were gone, and everyone had gone back to their business; granted, there was an atmosphere of tension, but still. Things were almost normal, I had no idea how it could've happened so quickly, but it did. Perhaps these people were used to being shot at and ambushed. That was an unpleasant thought.

The ride to Saint Denis went quickly, and I got my bath at the saloon while Arthur waited at the bar for me, sipping on a beer. I scrubbed every inch of my body using way too much soap, and despite all of Susan and I's efforts earlier, the water was still a grimy orange colour by the time I was done. But I was clean.

I had the horrifying experience of having to dig a piece of bone out of my upper chest, right above my collar bone. It had buried itself pretty deep and I was left with a chunk of my own skin missing, but I refused to stop digging until I was sure it was all gone. Having someone's head shot off with a shotgun right in front of me was an experience I only needed once, and it'd certainly stay with me. I contemplated joining Arthur in the bar and having a lot of drinks to take my mind off of it, but I knew it wouldn't do me any favours, so instead we just headed back to camp.

Besides, my appetite was beginning to come back after getting cleaned up, and my stomach reminded me that I hadn't eaten all day.

We made it back before the sun began to set and Arthur sat with me after I'd grabbed a bowl of stew. Hosea came and asked how I was doing in that paternal way of his, squeezing my shoulder and telling me he was proud of me for stepping in the way I did. Stepping in? I'd walked into it like an idiot and almost got myself killed, but okay, I thought.

"I think this belongs to you," a low, cool voice spoke as my revolver was placed down on the table next to me.

"Charles," I breathed when I looked up at him, opening my mouth to thank him, but he held his hand up to me.

"Don't thank me, I should've stopped you in the first place," he told me, and I shook my head.

"No, that was my stupid fault. I knew something was wrong but it didn't occur to me to just wait until you got to me."

"You just did what you thought was right, I should've known you were walking into danger and done something about it. I was on guard, it was my responsibility."

"Charles, you saved my life. I was silly and got myself into that situation, you got me out of it. Thank you," I took his hand – he looked down at it, his eyes widening slightly at the unexpected touch – and squeezed it.

"Thank you, Charles," Arthur said, and I felt his hand touch the small of my back, "if anything worse had happened… I'm just glad you got there when you did."

Charles looked like he didn't know what to do with the thanks and he shook his head dismissively.

"Well, I am too. How's your neck?" He asked.

I let go of his hand and touched the bandage around my throat, reminded of the tenderness of the fresh wound.

"It'll heal up soon enough. It only broke the skin," I explained, as Javier took a seat opposite me on the table with a bowl of stew of his own.

"Maybe one day you an' me will have matching scars, huh muñequita?" Javier said, tugging at his neckerchief, loosening it enough to reveal the ghost of a wound similar to mine, raised pink flesh, the kind of scar that caused goosebumps to look at.

I didn't know what to say to him.

"Hey, I know it's scary, right? The feeling of the blade… but trust me, you'll learn to love that scar," he said, then a smirk danced on the corner of his lips, "it's told a lot of guys I ain't one to be messed with. And ladies tend to like it, too."

I chuckled, though even I could tell it was lackluster. Javier gave me a small smile of understanding, and I appreciated the people around me for their kindness, even when the more time went on, I felt like a fool for what had happened.

I finished my stew and Arthur and I were about to head back inside and up to his room when Kieran approached, all nervous and quiet but with a sense of urgency, almost. I'd spotted him earlier on, out in the gazebo with Mary-Beth, they'd shared a kiss. It was hard to tell from the angle and distance whether it was on the lips or on the cheek, if it was one of good friendship or something more, either way I never drew attention to it. Especially not to Kieran himself.

"I just wanna say, thank you, Miss. You didn't have to do what y' did, you could've just hightailed it in the opposite direction to save your own skin, but you stayed and you helped me," he said to me on the porch by the front door.

I shifted on my feet, feeling my face pinch unintentionally.

"I acted on a snap decision. I pulled my gun because he was doin' the same, I don't think I deserve much thanks," I mumbled and Arthur – who was right beside me – squeezed my hand.

"Well, I felt hopeless, thought I was a goner for real. Thought no one was coming," he explained, looking up at Arthur hesitantly before stepping a bit closer and continuing under his breath, "truth be told, I ain't ever felt much like one of you folk. I thought what with my ties to the O'Driscolls, all of y'all weren't ever gonna trust me. But what you did; that made me feel somethin', Miss. I appreciate it."

"I trust you," I countered, saddened to hear him speak like that.

"Thank you," he smiled softly, his posture shifting to one of pleasant surprise, "after what happened today, people have been real nice to me. I guess I feel a little more like I… like I belong here, you know?"

I nodded and smiled at him. "I'm glad, Kieran. I hope those bastards leave you alone, now, just don't go too far out of sight from now on, where we can't come and help if anything goes wrong. It was just lucky I was standing where I was."

"We both had pretty lucky escapes, huh?"

"Very lucky."

"Thank you, again. I know you don't think you did much, but I really do appreciate it. I'll let you get on, now," he dipped his head then strode away with an awkward little smile.

I turned to Arthur, who seemed amused.

"That kid…" he mused, "he really don't feel like one of us?"

"Well, yeah. People ain't all that kind to him. Including you, so I hear," I poked him in the chest then entered the house. I heard Arthur chuckle as he followed me inside and up the stairs.

"It's all in good fun, you know. He's a good enough feller, could use some bigger balls, though," he commented. I glanced over my shoulder at him and narrowed my eyes.

"Maybe he'd grow 'em if he settled in more."

"Maybe. Does this mean I gotta stop flicking my cigarette ash in his bedroll?"

"Oh, Arthur Morgan. You'd better be joking."

He snickered. "Ahh, course I am. He ain't even got a bedroll."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

When we got to his room, Arthur found my satchel sitting on my bedroll. Wordlessly, he peered inside it and retrieved my sketchbook and pencil, handing them over to me before plopping himself down on his bed, patting the space before him. I gave him a quizzical look as he retrieved his own journal and smiled at me.

"Take a seat, we're gonna do some drawing together. We said we would. Might not be as nice as sitting in a pretty meadow like last time, but it's still you an' me, being together," he said. I humoured him, sitting down cross-legged at the end of his bed, turning so we were facing each other.

"You wanna do this?" I asked, concerned that he was just doing this out of obligation, because he felt like he needed to babysit me after such an intense day.

"Of course. Drawing helps clear my mind, maybe this'll be good for both of us. You still like drawing, don't you?"

"Yeah, even more so since you gave me this," I told him, flipping through my sketchbook.

I'd filled quite a few pages since Arthur had given it to me; I often drew in the evening when people were winding down for the day. I had sketches of a few members of the gang, some done without them noticing, some done because they'd asked me to after seeing what I was doing; as in Sean's case. I lingered on the page with his portrait, remembering the evening I had done it. He took posing for me seriously, I'd never seen him sit so still. Oh, Sean. For a moment I was sad that I never spent more time with him while I still could.

I took a breath and carried on flipping through until I reached a blank page, then looked up at Arthur. "Can I draw you again?"

"Sure. Maybe I could draw you?" He asked hopefully.

"Oh, okay then. I've never been drawn by someone else before," I giggled, shifting on the bed and bringing a hand over my hair to ensure it looked neat.

"Sure you have," Arthur told me with a cheeky little smile on his face, his eyes cast down to his journal as he opened it up to a blank page. I flushed, recalling my conversation with Tilly, when she'd mentioned seeing him drawing me. I hadn't been sure whether to believe her at the time.

"Knowingly, anyway," I added coquettishly, "maybe one day you'll show me?"

"Maybe," he said in a light, playful voice, "come on, while we still have a little daylight. Ain't the same by lantern light."

"Oh, you sound like a proper artist."

Arthur snorted. "I don't know about that."

And so we spend the evening alone, sat cross-legged, face to face on the bed, simply drawing each other.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #fanfiction #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #atink #arthur morgan x female reader #reader insert #rdr2 fanfic

26 notes · View notes