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spencersmagic · 4 years ago

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a knife twists at the thought - SR

Prompt: a knife twists at the thought that i should fall short of the mark - Arctic Monkeys

Summary: Spencer is new to this, and the poor boy is terrified

Couple: Fem! Reader x Spencer Reid (i picture season 2/3 Spencer but y’all do you)

Category: angst

Word count: 3086 words

Warnings: general criminal minds stuff, mentions and descriptions of torture, descriptions of loss, HAPPY ENDING!!, my 3am writing, tooth rotting love, uhmm spoilers for Orwell’s 1984 (if anybody hasn’t read it), humiliation, Spencer crying and breaking my heart (lmk if you need anything warned or trigger tagged).

A/N This is very loosely based on 2x15 (VERY LOOSELY). I’m quite proud of this one :)

masterlist // 505 series taglist

*****

They say you never see it coming.

When a tragedy occurs, and someone’s life is turned upside down forever, they never see it coming. It just... hits them. Like an oncoming car ramming into a bystander who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

No one has time to prepare. In our time-starved lives, there is no place for such a warning.

One day, you just wake up. And they’re not next to you. They’ve disappeared, leaving the stickiest, most unforgettable parts of themselves behind for others to grieve to: the smell of their shampoo in the pillows they used to share, the seconds just as you wake when you still feel like you have them - only to gain full consciousness and realise they left you behind - even the fucking jars, which never seem to be open because he’s just not there to do it.

And you feel your heart breaking all over again as your soul sticks to the parts that couldn’t be erased with the rest of him as he left. Because you needed him, you had him, and now he’s gone. No warning, no letter, no signs which could’ve helped you foresee such a tragedy, because how could he? He didn’t disappear on purpose.

She doesn’t understand why he's so absent. So unequivocally missing. And the person she would turn to to ask these riddled questions isn’t there to answer. Because he’s gone.

But they’re not there yet.

And she feels so close to that feeling - the helplessness, the pain, the empty cups next to her bed because he always carried them to the sink when she was finished with her tea the mornings of those rare days they got to sleep in. Those days when they had time. She can practically touch, with the tip of her fingertips, the waves of pain that would surge over her if he was gone for one more fucking minute.

She has to remind herself, over and over again, like a mantra. He’s not gone yet.

The “yet” at the end of her mantra just breaks her all over again.

She was always the one to tell Spencer “if you worry before something happens, in case it goes wrong, and then it does, you’ve managed to suffer twice through something painful for absolutely no reason”. It usually worked. Needless to say, she felt like a hypocrite right about now.

Because Spencer is gone. And she doesn’t know how to bring him back.

She knows only to watch the monitor, never once blinking, taking in everything that happened in that damned livestream - every word, every sound, every reference. She can only try to hear anything over the whimpers and sobs her love was letting out as he’s tortured by that man. She can only hear the cracks of his knuckles against Spencers soft skin, the same soft skin she had kissed mere hours ago before telling him to “be careful”. Her own way of saying the three little words the couple was too young to hear. She can only see his lips parting, sobs rumbling out of his body as the unsub abuses his frame over and over again - same lips which had kissed her forehead before telling her “i always am”.

Then again, she isn’t sure if its his voice which is filling her head with painful sounds or if her mind is playing tricks on her, memorising the horrifying vibrations coming from his chest for her to ever consider anything else. She hasn’t stopped hearing him since she turned on that damned computer.

She isn’t sure she’ll ever stop hearing it.

As a man of great intellect, Spencer always recurred to knowledge to understand difficult occurrences in his life. Burying himself in textbooks, novels, poems, and even music to understand pain, and himself having a life filled with it, he was an incredibly knowledgeable man.

He knew much. But right now, he only knew one thing.

In Orwells’ 1984, as Winston was being tortured (much like Spencer is right now), Orwell described the following:

“Never, for any reason on earth, could you wish for an increase of pain. Of pain you could only wish one thing: that it should stop. Nothing in the world was so bad as physical pain. In the face of pain there are no heroes, no heroes”.

And, as a man who had acquired most of his intellect by immersing himself in trivial content in the face of pain, he found himself doing the same thing as the unsub hurt him over and over again, each blow seemingly more painful than the last. As his skin bruised, a causality of his abusers torment, he analysed the seemingly logical quote.

It must depend on the person, he was sure. In fact, a number of factors must be taken into consideration at this statement. For starters, Winston lives in a society incapable of any human feelings. There is only dominance, and those who attempt, in vain, to challenge it. Surely, if he had felt happiness, like the one you feel when the first day of spring rolls around, or like the one that creeps up on you as you look into the eyes of your loved one, surely, he would understand that some things can outweigh pain.

Love.

If Spencer’s mind could make sense of what he was feeling right now, he would understand, something he would figure of were he to leave this damned place, that he was thankful to the Gods, were there any, for having the unsub kidnap him and not Y/N.

Winston hadn’t understood emotional pain because emotions weren’t dealt with regularly. They were discouraged. That’s why he believed that there are no heroes in the face of pain. Because he doesn’t understand emotional pain.

He knew he was suffering. He also knew that Y/N was at the other side of the blinking camera suffering more than he could ever imagine.

They say emotional pain lasts 12 minutes. Anything one feels after this would be the aftermath of the cause of the pain in question. Pure emotional pain, the one you practically feel in your chest, the one that says “i can’t think, feel or be. not until this feeling dissipates”.

She had learned this from Spencer.

And she wished it were true. As she watched that damned monitor, she wished that all the venom the unsub was spewing at Spencer, all the verbal abuse, was long forgotten. She wished he could only feel the physical pain. Because the mind is incredibly stronger than the body - it could keep him awake, alive, for just enough time for the team to rescue him.

The entire team had huddled around the monitor around her. She was painfully aware that other people were seeing this. Which meant it wasn’t her imagination. It wasn’t another one of those damned dreams she would have when she slept a little too far away from Spencer’s touch.

They had only been together for two months, but his touch was all that could get her to fall asleep.

She jolted as the unsub landed another slap on Spencer’s cheek, swiftly grabbing his hair for him to look into the camera. He had a cut above his right cheek, just where she would kiss him in the mornings, and bruises all over his neck, jaw and left eye.

“Say hi to your team!” he mocked Spencer, chuckling darkly as he moved his almost lifeless body around for the team to watch in horror. Spencer let out a heartbreaking sob, feeling so vulnerable.

“Why don’t we make this interesting?” he jumped, as if he had gotten an idea. The unsub reached behind himself to grab a pistol, clicking off the magazine safety to put one bullet in one of the eight slots, leaving the other seven free. He pointed it at Spencer’s temple.

Her entire body shook the thought of seeing Spencer’s lifeless body, held up only by the ropes and that sick man’s grip around his curls. The same curls she grabbed as she kissed his face when she wanted his attention.

“I’m going to ask you some questions...” he said, voice dripping with sickening sweetness as he turned the roulette, “and if i don’t like your answer i’ll pull the trigger! Let God decide what I do with you. Sounds good?”. He wanted to humiliate Spencer.

However, Spencer made the mistake of not answering him. He was quickly reminded as the barrel of the gun pointed right between his eyes, pulling the trigger, a loud bang! sound expanding through the barn.

“I asked you a question!” he suddenly yelled into Spencer’s face.

“Y-yes, Sir” he whimpered, shaking at the ease at which the man pulled the trigger.

“Good, you’re learning”.

She experienced it by bits. Hotch’s hoarse voice. “Talk to me Garcia”. “We’ve got coordinates”. Everybody rushing to the SUVs. Tripping over her own feet on the way to the car. Morgan’s voice. The iPad, which still carried Spencer’s whimpers and the man mocking tone.

“I’ve got your diary, Spence” his sing-song voice didn’t match the disgusting man she was looking at. Nothing made sense.

“And I wanna know why...” he drew out the ‘y’ as he looked for something between the worn pages between his hands.

Of course she knew Spencer owned a diary. But she was mature enough to keep her hands to herself and her eyes on her own pages as he wrote on his, eyebrows creasing as he recalled all which he had experienced during the day. His face would twitch slightly at the memories, both good and bad, as he basically described his day word by word.

“...why did you wait until you were 24 to lose your virginity?” he asked in a clear attempt to humiliate and ridicule Spencer in front of his team.

“I-I didn't-” he could barely finish a word before a sob wrecking through his body at the humiliation, chest rumbling and voice wavering. “I didn’t want to lose it before, i w-wasn’t in a hurry” he rushed out. The man brought the pistol to his own chin, tapping it as he thought. “Hmm... I’m satisfied with your answer. Let’s dig deeper, shall we?” he asked as he went back into the pages.

“ooh! This one is new” that sick bastard was having fun with this, completely unaware that the team was less than 5 minutes away from their location.

“Care to read what you wrote three days ago? Right here” he turned the pages so Spencer could read them, though he was painfully aware of that entry he was talking about. His body shook violently. “P-please. D-don’t ma-make me do t-this” he whimpered, body feeling defeated.

“Wrong answer” the unsub said before pointing a gun at him and pulling the trigger.

A shriek was heard from the iPad. The SUV went silent.

“He’s alive” she whispered, unable to speak up. “He-” she swallowed. “He’s alive. We’re not there, yet” her mantra became a reminder that she hadn’t been quick enough to help him. She had the tools to save him. Every second she had the knowledge to save him and didn’t was another second she remained impotent at the risk of losing the love of her life.

Spencer’s voice spoke from the iPad.

“C-can you at-at leas-st turn off t-the ca-amera?” he said between sobs.

And it hit her.

What hurt him the most wasn’t the memories he had to relieve, but the fact that the rest of the team would have to hear his most intimate thoughts. His deepest secrets.

He could bare the pain. The humiliation? That broke him.

“Aww” the unsub chuckled mockingly, “are you embarrassed?” he said, slouching down to look into his eyes. “Well too fucking bad!” he screamed into his face, spitting with every word he spewed at him. Spencer’s sobs got louder.

“O-okay okay!” Spencer caved, accepting the journal that got shoved into his face.

“Read, pretty boy” the unsub sang. That son of a bitch was having fun.

“We’re two minutes away, Y/N” Hotch said. Maybe it was he sobs, which were barely audible to herself, having accepted them as second nature after all the heartbreak she was experiencing, but Hotch needed her to be okay.

His own heart thumped into his chest, feeling as helpless as he’d ever felt. Seeing a member of his team - someone he was supposed to take care of, someone he was supposed to keep safe - was sobbing as he was physically and emotionally tortured. But he was painfully aware of the feelings Y/N was experiencing. The sheer fear that was running down her veins at the idea of them running out of time.

After a few sobs, Spencer started reading, interrupting himself occasionally with his whimpers:

“It’s been three months. Today, three months, seven hours and forty-six minutes ago, she did what I didn’t have the courage to do. She asked me out. “I’ve been wanting to ask you pretty much since the day i met you” she had said. Those words keep ringing in my head like a beautifully written symphony, intrinsically designed to make me face my deepest fears. Opening my scars one by one, dissecting them and reaching the simple conclusion that i was a coward.

She didn’t say it, but what she meant was “i’ve been waiting for you to do it, but you never did, so i had to”. We wasted time - a time so precious and sacred - because i was a coward.

I’ve never felt like this before. I never understood a love so deep as to move something so stubborn as the human spirit. I’ve read textbook after textbook, and novel after novel, and still I’ve never learned more than with her. But I was a coward. And i wasted her time. I fear that I still am.

A knife twists at the thought that i should fall short of the mark. It’s impossible for me to ever be enough for her”.

Her heart broke at this confession. Even worse at the thought that he wouldn’t’ve told her, instead inhaling fear and exhaling rejection at every breath he took next to her.

“We’re here” she heard Hotch, looking at her. She grabbed a bottle of water and dropped the iPad, not hearing the teams objections at the lack of vest and preparation and ran into the barn.

She isn’t sure if she’ll ever stop hearing his whimpers. As she runs closer, she hears them louder and louder, decorated with sobs and cries, and small, meaningless replies to his abusers’ mocking words.

She kicked the door down, the loud bang booming across the room, only helping in raising Spencer’s sobs as he feared the sound had been the result of a certain trigger being pulled. As she looks at him, she realises just how much pain he’s been put through.

She remembers Orwells words, much like how Spencer had remembered them mere hours ago. And disagrees, wishing over and over, praying to the Gods that she would be the victim of such atrocious abuse. She wished she could take his pain. Morgan joined her at her side mere seconds later, yelling. “FBI! Put the gun down!”.

Spencer used the last bit of energy to lunge forward, hitting the unsubs stomach with his head, successfully getting him on the floor for Morgan to apprehend. Y/N rushed to Spencer’s side, untying him, as his now nonexistent sobs grew louder and louder, not only at the prospect of getting out of that horrible place alive, but also at the knowledge that Y/N had heard what he had so dreadfully recited.

Spencer collapsed into her arms, crying into her in the same way she was crying into him, and she wondered just how to take away all his pain. So they cried into each other, desperately grasping each others hair, skin, clothes, anything that would make them feel like they wouldn’t have to spend another damned second without the company of each other.

Spencer was the first to break the silence.

“I need-” he stopped, coughing. She reached for the bottle of water she had brought with her because she knew he would need it. She always knew what he needed.

He chugged it desperately, stray drops falling down his chin at his eagerness. He took a deep breath trying to steady his lungs.

“I need to get out of here” he choked out.

She grabbed him under the shoulders, careful not to hurt him - not being successful, realising that there wasn’t much of him the man hadn’t hurt. Y/N pulled him out, sitting down on the grass with him. Their legs intertwined, pulling each other impossibly closer. They kissed, over and over again. Not as an act of any sexual relevance, but as a reminder that they had each other in any way, shape or form. That they weren’t out of time.

The team was certain they would stay there, never letting each other go for another minute.

After what felt like seconds in their time-starved little world, she broke the silence, which had only been filled with their own cries and occasional sobs.

“Spence” she grabbed his chin to look into his eyes. They were dull, red and hooded. He was exhausted. “Mhmm?” he let out, looking into hers. She was his solace.

“How could you ever think you were anything but completely and unequivocally enough?” she whispered the words he dreaded.

But as Spencer looked into her eyes he knew, better than he had ever known anything, that he was enough. And she was enough. He realised that which she had known for the past three months (possibly longer). They fit like two marvellous puzzle pieces.

Her hands grabbed his cheeks slowly, as to not hurt or startle him, pulling his forehead into hers. “Baby, I can’t imagine anybody else waking up to me every morning. You’re so much more than enough”, she planted a small kiss on his forehead before resuming her position. “I’ll remind you every day of the rest of my life if that’s what it takes for you to believe it”.

And with their eyes closed, foreheads and noses pressed together and legs tangled between each other, pulling each other close, closer - around grass and voices and his abuser pressed into the hood of a police car, they only felt each other. With their shaky breaths, even shakier voices, fearing any words that would leave them in case they triggered a cascade of tears down their oh so vulnerable cheeks, they were more than enough.

***

I hope y’all liked it!! Feel free to let me know by liking, reblogging, or sending me a message :)

super cool kid taglist: @lady-anon-x @spencerreid-mgg @eoupe @inlovewithbabygirl @galaxydefenderjulia @username2002

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yeojaa · 4 years ago

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GIRL we need a devil in a new suit drabble where jungkook gets jealous pls bless us😭😭❤️

[ read devil in a new suit ]

pairing. jjk x f!reader. rating. explicit. tags. kook being hilarious and naive, reader being a little frustrated but head over heels, smut in the form of: titty sucking (kook is a big boob guy in this), cunnilingus, kook wanting to love you forever. wc. 2.1k. author note. i am... so in love with this couple so what was meant to be a “kook gets jealous and breaks reader’s back” turned into... this.

Jeon Jungkook doesn’t get jealous. Not because he doesn’t care, or he’s unaffected, or any other negative connotation under the sun. He doesn’t because he’s him, too soft and sweet and silly to believe the worst in people. (This, coming from the man who’d steered clear of dating apps and blind dates because he was worried he’d be hurt.)

Once, you’d been waiting for him to pick you - he’d been running late, dinner with his parents and younger sister - and he’d found you chatting politely to an old fling of yours. Well, maybe not so old. A recent fling, a friend of sorts. Someone who’d swanned into your life during your college years and had remained there ever since, popping his head in from time to time.

You’d always been on good terms, caught up for lunch every six months or so when he’d return home from his overseas job. In the past, you’d found familiarity in the shape of his hands, the neon outline of his almond eyes and pouting lips. He was good in bed, as charming between the sheets as he was on the street.

But your heart belonged to Jungkook now - had, before you’d even realised it - and Taewoo was just another guy. Another face in a crowd.

Still, you’d thought your beloved boyfriend would have some sort of reaction. Maybe a quirk of his perfectly groomed brows, a certain tightness belying his displeasure in the softly peaked bow of his mouth. You’d spied neither after extracting yourself from the hug and waving goodbye. Jungkook had been sunshine and sweetness, opening your door for you and stamping a kiss to your cheek.

That night, he’d loved you how he always had, with you crying his name and making a mess of his sheets.

Another time, you’d been at a work function. One of those ridiculous galas you loved, full of women in their highest heels and men in their swankiest watches. (You’d worn Aquazzura that night, Jungkook with an Audemars Piguet loose around his wrist.)

He’d stuck close to your side, far more interested in the way your dress hugged your figure, cut intimidatingly high over your thigh and revealed the swell of your ass at juuuust the right angle. Yejin had been the only one to tear him away, insisting on shots that you knew she couldn’t handle. Anything went if free booze was involved.

Thirty minutes later - give or take, since you hadn’t had a watch of your own on - your boyfriend had returned, flushed and adorable. There’d been a garden of colour creeping over the expanse of his chest, peeking around the collar of his shirt and disappearing into his neatly tousled strands. He’d giggled his way back to you, somehow completely oblivious to the man that’d found you at your table and settled himself into the spot labelled Jeon Jungkook.

The imposter had been affronted, gaze narrowed at the younger man who was a little too loose, a little too smiley. Wholly out of place at an event like this, where people spent too much time up their own asses, noses held aloft and business cards exchanged.

(One of the reasons you loved Jungkook so much. He was a breath of fresh air in a world you thrived in - found humour in, at the very least - carrying you high above the clouds with the sound of his laughter.)

“Hi, baby.” Your darling boy smothered you in kisses, traced them up and over the exposed expanse of your shoulder, nosing against your skin, utterly unbothered by the man shooting him daggers, wishing him ill from the spot he’d wrongly claimed.

Of course, he’d thought Jungkook was making a point - claiming what was his - but that was so far from the truth you’d almost laughed when he’d spoken, voice carrying above the slightly laboured breaths of your lover. “I guess that’s my cue to leave, huh?”

You’d smiled, nodded with a hand threaded into cornsilk curling over Jungkook’s nape. “Looks like it.”

(Then your idiot love - your big-hearted moron, your doe-eyed baby - had come up for air, cheek resting in the palm of his hand. “Where’s your friend?” He’d asked, eyes so wide you couldn’t doubt the sincerity of his question.)

Such was the kind of person Jungkook was, with an unwavering belief in the goodness of others, a silver thread outlining everyone’s silhouette. You sometimes wondered what it would take to drive him to any sort of displeasure, any sort of emotion beyond quiet melancholy (seldom seen but heavily felt, when the rare occasions rose) or easygoing amicability (his default setting). Not that you’d ever push to see that, of course.

You were happy. Hopelessly in love. You wouldn’t have traded him for the world - couldn’t even fathom doing anything to hurt him.

And yet, you discover albeit by accident - it’s really not that hard. All it takes is a pretty girl.

“This looks incredible,” she says, standing close, long dark hair falling in a fluid curtain down the line of her back. It’s the loveliest shade, cool-toned beneath the boutique lights, and reflects colour like a waterfall. You’d complimented her on it when you’d stepped into the fitting area, a handful of hangers set across the rolling rack.

Fingers smooth over embroidery, revelling in the feeling of it over your skin. It’s a beautiful thing, black tulle that hangs to your fingertips. Not Jungkook’s preferred style - he much prefers harnesses and so many straps it might as well be a cat’s cradle - but you think he loves it nonetheless.

(You’d confirm, but he’s been stoically silent, seated in the plush chair tucked beside the privacy partition, normally soft gaze hard and trained on his phone. He doesn’t seem very much in the mood to talk, hardly reacting with each outfit change. A nod here, a smile there. Not even the most scandalous of the options - a black corset decorated in Leavers lace - had elicited his usual enthusiasm.)

“You think so?” You’re not insecure about your body - know what it looks best in, which assets to play up. Still, it’s nice to hear from someone other than your doting boyfriend, the people caught in your orbit.

The sales associate nods, beams at you in the multiple mirrors. A hand of her own drifts over the thin strap of the slip - an innocent gesture that dislodges wayward strands of hair from beneath. “Of course— and I’m not just saying that because I’m trying to sell it.”

You nod, satisfied. Even if Jungkook doesn’t seem ecstatic, your own joy makes up for it, buyer’s delight spilling over. “I’ll take the satin robe, the blush silk set, and this in the violet.”

“Great choices,” she hums, pulling back the curtain to the adjoining change room to allow you privacy. Silence follows as you slip the delicate number off, returning it to its hanger. You don’t expect when the brunette continues speaking - presumably to your surprisingly surly boyfriend. “Don’t you agree?”

“Yep.” He’s never been a man of few words, usually so full of excitement that he rambles when he doesn’t mean to.

It’s a dead giveaway - a confirmation that something’s wrong.

Unfortunately for you, you don’t have time to broach the subject, your purchases already paid for and a firm hand on the small of your back the moment you’ve stepped out of the dressing stall. “Jungkookie?” You mean it quietly, just for the two of you, but falter when he slots his fingers between yours and all but tugs you out of the boutique. You hardly even have a chance to toss the helpful girl an apologetic smile, imposing glass swinging shut behind you.

“Men—men are fine. I don’t have to worry about them.” There’s a confidence you’re so proud to see, turning his words as solid as the weight that rests against your hip, sears burning heat into your bared skin. “No other man is going to love you better than me. But women?” A shudder runs the length of his imposing frame, tugs his shoulders up to his ears and tingles the small of his back. “Women are scary.” (It’s a sentiment he’s echoed in the past. In particular, months ago when you’d insisted he dive into the dating scene.)

Hands thread through his too-soft strands, twirl the ends around your fingers as he speaks, nearly muffled into the crook of your shoulder. He’s being so tender, giving you all the love he has to offer as he writes his insecurities into your skin, offers them with the wet of his tongue.

“A woman might sweep you off your feet and steal you away.”

You laugh then - sound snapping past your teeth before you can tuck it away. It filters loudly into the baies scented candle you’d lit when you’d gotten into his apartment.

Jungkook whines in response - a terribly endearing sound that makes you roll your eyes but only with affection (always with that) - and buries his face into your tits, sucking your nipple into his mouth with complete disregard for the tulle that acts as a barrier. Saliva stains the material, makes it stick to your hardened bud as he laves over it with his tongue - bites surprisingly gently - and tugs it just hard enough to have you keening.

“S-s’not funny,” he huffs, palming your other breast in his broad tattooed palm. When he continues, he bites into you like he’s got a personal vendetta against whatever lies beneath your flesh. “She was flirting with you.”

It’s less of a sigh of annoyance - more sensual, drowning in need. “She was not.”

He nips at the delicate flesh again, spreads crimson marks all across the sensitive skin until it’s a mosaic beneath the fabric, his finest work painted by his second favourite brush. “That’s what you think but she was.” The hand previously kneading your skin drops, flat of his palm sliding easily over your bare pussy.

There’s zero hesitation when he slots his fingers on either side of your clit, catches the delicate pearl against the webbing of his hand and applies pressure that has you bucking beneath him. It’s not nearly as aggressive as he normally is but it’s just as good, paired with the sinful motions of his tongue and teeth.

“She wants to be the one doing this,” he continues, saliva pooling across your chest, slipping into the valley of your breasts only to be licked up by the flat of his tongue. He continues even once you’re clean, skin sticky and a little gross but so erotic it makes you quiver. Then he descends, pushes the hem of your new slip higher, and licks another stripe from the joint of your thigh up to your belly button. Repeats it again, moving lower with each pass until he’s sucking your clit into his mouth. “She wants to be the one tasting this pretty, pretty pussy.”

You reach for his hand - the one somewhere near your ribs, side of his wrist soothing against the ladder of bones - and tangle your fingers together as he drives you mad, tip of his tongue switching between sweet kitten licks and tantalising figure eights.

“Baby,” you coax, reprimand almost. Jungkook’s never this lenient, never this sweet on you (not inside the bedroom, at least). It brings you to a different high, his love folded into lovely origami cranes you tuck into your pockets and the spot you’ve carved out for him within your chest.

“Sing for me, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t mean literally - refers instead to the sound of your voice when it leaps three octaves, bounces between sultry and singed, burnt at the edges by the fire he brings to life.

“Tell me you’ll never leave me.” Despite how the words muffle, come broken between the glide of his tongue within your fluttering walls, you can hear the sincerity in them. The earnestness that begs you to promise him this simple thing. “Not for her. Not for anyone.”

“I won’t leave you,” you answer, threading the vow between your fingers as if they’re the thread binding your love story together. “Not for her - not for anyone.”

#anon.eml #bts drabble #bts imagine #bts au #bts fluff #bts smut bts jungkook #jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #incoming.eml #work.zip #drabble.zip #devil.doc #jungkook.doc

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eutxrpe · 4 years ago

Text

painting a picture

—there is no color combination that could ever paint a picture like you. izuku (with the help of his students) still tries to capture your essence on a canvas though.—

pairing: elementary schoolteacher!izuku x gender neutral!reader word count: 2.1k words warnings: fluff, izuku being a simp for you, a bit of second-hand embarrassment the art in the banner belongs to @/hanabiy_chan on twitter!

song inspiration: picture perfect (freestyle) - jhene aiko

a/n: this is both dedicated to and caused by @whipped-cream-writings. you know what happened for this to be a thing. thank you for being you and inspiring this.

if there was ever a time to be embarrassed about something that deku’s students have said to him, it would be now.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“mr. deku? are you dating someone?” izuku’s head snaps up to see hina, one of his most extroverted students. many other students come over to his desk, intrigued by the question that hina had asked. their little heads surround the table, and eyes peer at him over the height of his desk.

“yea, are you?”

“tell us! tell us!” tiny voices chant in unison before izuku shushes them all gently. he internally reminds himself that they are innocent six-year olds that were not trying to purposefully embarrass him before answering.

“y-yes, i am dating someone,” the class erupts into cheers before quieting down again. they don’t disperse and head back to their tables like izuku had hoped, because hina looks at him with bright, brown eyes and continues the conversation.

“what are they like? do you love them? do youuuu?” her hair bounces as she drawls out the last syllable of her statement.

“hina, isn’t it time to go back to your seat?” deku asked, cheeks flushing a deep pink at the questioning. shaking her head, she only giggles.

“it’s free time, isn’t it?” she pouts. “also you didn’t answer my question. i...i could always make you, though!” and izuku watches as the brown of her eyes turns a deep black to the point the iris matches her pupils. one of the oldest in her class, hina had already manifested her quirk: the ability to make anyone do what they she wants when they make eye contact with her but only when her eyes were fully black.

“hina.” he makes his tone more strict, catching her attention and making her gaze drift down to the floor. “no quirk usage in the classroom, okay? it’s not fair to your other classmates who don’t have theirs yet.”

“yea, i know it’s a power imbalance or somethin’… but please? tell me?” and when izuku sees her eyes again, they’re back to the umber they usually are and hold only truth in them. he sighs.

“after this, you’ll go back to your seat?” with an enthusiastic nod, deku catches his lip in between his thumb and pointer finger, trying to figure out how to describe you: the love of his life.

“they’re… amazing. i don’t know any words that could describe the way that i love them. but they’re that feeling when you have your favorite drink for the first time in forever! or-”

“you’re gonna ramble, mr. deku.” hina’s straight-forwardness could be taken as rudeness eventually... he’d have to take her over to bakugo’s or todoroki’s class one day to see what she does in other people. “i know that if i were in love, i’d show them what i couldn’t tell them!”

hina’s reply sparks an idea for a long-term project for his students… and for the both of you. izuku stands up, clapping his hands to get their attention. brushing his hair away from his face, the students see the glee in his emerald eyes and know that it’ll be an interesting project.

“what do you guys think of doing some painting over the next few weeks?”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“izu, you’re home!” at the sound of his footsteps, izuku sees you turn around and smile at him and his heart flutters. you’re wearing one of his oversized sweaters and mismatched socks that soften the noise of your feet padding down the hallway to kiss him.

“hi, angel.”

your hands cup his freckled cheeks, and he hopes that you don’t feel the amount of heat that crosses them. from your laugh, he knows that the opposite is true. your expression suddenly changes from content to focused, and midoriya feels your thumb rub away some pink paint.

“paint?” you step back and arch your eyebrow at him, walking away to the kitchen to wash your hands. taking off his blazer and folding it over his arms, izuku follows you, the baritone of his voice floating over to you across the island that separates the two of you.

“i started a new art project with them,” izuku explains while he plays with his fingers, a habit he’s never really gotten over since his high school days. “their assignment is to supposed to paint something, someone —anything really— that brings them happiness. and then they asked me to do it with them.”

“and you just couldn’t say no?” after drying your hands, you turn around to face him, eyebrow arched and mouth curved into an amused smile. he feels heat race across his cheeks as he nods bashfully. “then i assume you’re painting all might.”

“well… you’ll see.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“you’re so forgetful when it comes to your health, you know that?” your unforgettable voice can be heard from across the room to deku, holding the lunch that you reminded him to take three times in total. the students, including one excitable hina, turn their heads up at the noise and gasp.

“mr. deku, is this (y/n)?” after shy confirmation from him, the class cheers and deku raises both of his hands to turn the shouts to hushed whispers.

“p-please go back to what you were doing! you guys wouldn’t want to wake up kacchan, would you?” the bunny that sat on the counter was taking a short nap, his expression relaxed which was the opposite of his hostile behavior. at the mention of the angry bunny, the students went back to work, dipping their fingers in the paint as they continued to talk about you. you shyly smiled and rolled your eyes at the excitement that your arrival caused.

“do you want me to go over to you? or…” your sentence causes deku to blush and stand up quickly, striding over to where you were at the door.

“no, it’s fine… i know that it was hard to take this time out of your schedule. thank you, sweetheart.” he murmurs, trying not to take the children’s attention off of their project. izuku takes the lunch from your hands, giving you a smile and squeezing your hand softly.

“of course! i’ll see you at home later?” he enthusiastically nods, and you kiss as a farewell, lips slotting against each other lovingly. it seemed like you were about to deepen it, but hina’s voice causes you two to part.

“ewwwww!”

and deku has never felt so embarrassed about showing his love for you. heat streams across his cheeks and down his neck while you laugh innocently. slinging your arms around his neck to pull him into a hug, you whisper your goodbyes into his ear, knowing that he would be mumbling about this into your lap at home tonight. in a sort of apology, izuku presses kisses into your neck. (knowing that his back was to hina, of course.) and like the angel you are, you giggle lightly at the sensation, and midoriya knows he’s been forgiven, even if there was nothing to forgive.

afterwards, you turn away, and midoriya sighs at the sound of your shoes against the hallway flooring. clutching the bento you brought him in his hands, he walks back to his desk and back to what he was trying to encapture in his painting. that was until he heard what hina mumbles —or tried to mumble— in the relatively quiet room.

“so that’s what love looks like…”

for once, deku lets out a sigh of relief at work. it was peaceful, and seeing all of the proud smiles on his (they were his at this point; he cared for them that deeply) children’s faces made him proud as well.

all was calm, and so before kacchan woke up from his nap, deku clapped his hands together and stood up, attracting the students’ attention.

“guys… i’m going to need your help with this plan i have, okay?”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

you had been surprised when izuku called you while he was at work one day. he was almost religious with the amount of dedication and attention into his students and put his phone on silent everyday. so when he asked you to come to his classroom, you were shocked but quickly rushed over.

your heart skipped a beat with every step you took forward to the door, mind conjuring the worst scenarios every time you thought of izuku’s nervous, high-pitched tone.

“just c-come over as soon as possible please, angel!” you loved this man, but sometimes you just didn’t know what was in his mind.

and with bated breath, you opened the door to his classroom and gasped.

the room formerly had circular tables on top of an area rug with all might memorabilia on the walls and children running havoc around it.

but this room had fairy lights around it, giving it this safe haven aura, and there was a pathway to the other side of the room by separating the tables. someone squeezed your hand, so you tore yourself away from the look of the new room and made your eyes look downward. by the excited look in her eyes and proud smirk on her face, you assumed that this was hina, the same girl who had squealed in disgust during your kiss with izuku.

“follow me, (y/n)!” and although it was a very small distance, you took her smaller hand within yours and let her lead you to the other side of the room where you saw izuku, who was beside an easel. before walking away to another room, hina narrowed her eyes at your boyfriend, telling him to “man up and do it or i’ll do it for you!”

“what’s happening, izuku? is something wrong?” you let him take your hands and he immediately told you everything was okay.

“i just… n-needed to tell you something before i lost the courage to do so. you know that project i told you about earlier?” you nod, trying not to say anything as you saw him fight for the right words. “well… for someone who brings me happiness, i chose you.”

izuku walks behind you to envelop you within his arms from behind, hiding his face in your neck. you tear the paper hiding his work from you away and gasp at what you see.

“i’m not a very good painter! the sketch was much better…” and you know that he wasn’t being modest.

your features were there, but blobs of paint were astray in different places. your eyes were too far apart and your hair was just a touch different than it usually is. but you let yourself fall into the colors that he chose.

the background was pink and you remember that one morning, izuku had told you that you reminded him of the color of a carefree love: baby pink.

you were wearing the same outfit that you were on your first date, and you can’t help but tear up slightly at the amount of detail that he put into this painting.

“izuku… it’s bad but good at the same time, you dork. i love it. i love y-” you turn around to find him on one knee and his own eyes watering. “-ou.”

“i- um, bare with me, here.” you run your hands through his soft locks of hair and sniffle, and he just knows that you’re always going to listen to him.

“i could never put into words just how much you mean to me. which is probably why i put off this for so long. hah, i- you’re perfect, angel. perfect for me. i’ve always been in love with you even before we started to date… and just seeing you take care of me because i’m so forgetful when it comes to my health and always being there for me in the mornings has made me fall for you again and again everyday. i call these kids my world, but you’re my universe, my love. a picture so perfect that i tried and failed to encompass you.”

you sniffle again, and he presses soft kisses to the top of your hand, trying to compose himself to ask the damn question once and for all. he looks up and into your eyes, and finally… he’s determined to make you his.

“it would make me the happiest man in the world if you could marry me, (y/n).” he lets go of your hand to crack open the velvet ring box to reveal the prettiest ring you’ve ever seen. although you sometimes don’t know what goes through izuku’s head, it’s like he was in yours picking out this beautiful moonstone.

you get down on the ground too, resting your forehead against his as you whisper out a yes.

“yes… yes, i’ll marry you, ‘zuku. any day, any time, because it’s you. i love you.” you kiss his lips over and over again, making him giggle and pull you even closer on this kindergarten class floor.

and you’re not sure if the moment is ruined or made better by bakugo opening the door to his class and letting hina & the other students loudly rush into the room.

fin.

#bnha x reader #bnha elementary school teacher au #mha x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya x reader #bnha scenarios #deku x reader #bnha fluff

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mithrilhearts · 3 years ago

Note

For the commentary thing! That reunion scene at the end of your latest chapter of May Your Forge Burn Bright 💖 I'm still living for that

May Your Forge Burn Bright - Chapter 9 The Reunion, you got it!

Commentary & scene under the cut - spoilers ahead

It was easier to walk with the wind than against it, but regardless of how fast Bilbo’s feet carried him, he was no match for a thunderstorm. Between the bone-shaking rumbles overhead and the blinding rain, it would be a miracle to make it halfway back to Ered Luin without crumbling or being swept away by the wind itself.

Wiping his sleeve against his eyes to try and get some of the water out of them, Bilbo wasn’t sure whether it was rainwater or tears that he was swiping away, but he certainly looked like a picture of perfect misery, and felt like one too! Soaked to the bone, stuck in a terrifying situation with no shelter, but there was a determined streak about him. Regardless of what he was putting up with now, he had all intentions to fix things with Thorin. If that meant they never completed their hillside conversation, then so be it. So long as the dwarf was in his life, then that was what mattered.

Another strike of lightning, that was far too close, hit one of the trees overhead, causing the tree to split down the trunk and for a good chunk of branches to start falling in Bilbo’s general direction. Not that he could hear or see it thanks to the sounds of the storm.

With his eyes screwed closed so tightly and keeping a sleeve over his face to protect himself from the rain, Bilbo didn’t see the oncoming form that got a firm grip on the front of his waistcoat and yanked him forward several paces and out of the way with a mighty yelp. It almost felt as if a wild animal had gotten a hold of him and Bilbo immediately tried to scramble, but the loud sound of part of a tree hitting the ground behind him had him prying open his eyes. Not to mention, he had been enveloped into a grip he was only vaguely familiar with.

Me, thinking to myself, how can I really make Bilbo M I S E R A B L E? Throw him into a storm, because we all know by now that he hates the damn things. This is probably his worst nightmare. YES, GOOD. I know, I know, I'm a monster. I've been told this a time or two.

Me, who doesn't watch romantic movies or read romance novels, etc. What's the best way to set up a reunion? See above. Put Bilbo in a terrifying situation and let him get saved at the last second. First I was thinking of like, maybe a wolf or orc attack, but if you've read Dragonhearted, Thorin already got to save Bilbo from wargs.

This whole damn scene was made up on the fly and I'm insanely proud of it. Moving on.

Hazel eyes tried to fight against the rain, but the water stopped for just a moment as a coat was being held over his head to block some of the weather, and it allowed Bilbo to look at what could have been his end. Being crushed under the force of falling branches...and yet…? “Thorin!” How? Why? Did Bilbo actually get knocked around so hard that he was stuck in a dream?

No, dreams didn’t feel that warm.

“You’re a foolish creature and should know better than to storm off by yourself!” Thorin scolded over the howling of the wind, a scowl to his face as he looked just as Bilbo remembered whenever these moods struck the dwarf. Unpleasant. “You could have been killed, I promised to keep you safe…” And Thorin would not let that promise fall through.

“You came for me…” Bilbo murmured, though unable to be heard over the sounds of rain and wind. Thorin’s coat might have acted as a decent enough shield against the actual rainwater, but it was nothing for the sounds. “I was on my way back! I needed to apologize for what I said, and I’m not sure how else I can express that. From the bottom of my heart, I am so sorry-”

“Maralmizu, Bilbo."

Bilbo’s ears twitched before dropping. Now was not the time for secrecy, they could play that game once they were out of this vicious weather. Not to mention, Bilbo had been trying to give a heartfelt apology. An annoyed huff came from the hobbit as he continued to stare at Thorin, caring less and less about thunder and lightning as the seconds ticked by. “What does that even mean, Thorin?” Though asking a dwarf to reveal their secrets was like trying to move a mountain with your bare hands.

“I love you,” Thorin was far gentler this time than the scolding he had started with, staring at Bilbo’s wide hazel eyes. “And I have for some time now and just...too afraid to say it. Too afraid that being me might scare you off, and it did...but I-”

“Oh, you really are a stupid dwarf!” That bold Tookish behavior was finding its way to the surface once more, no longer hiding in fear from a few unsavory blokes from Bree. Wrapping his hands around both of Thorin’s braids and standing on his toes, it didn’t take much guidance from Bilbo’s small tug for their lips to meet with eyes fluttering closed.

It felt like a missing piece had finally been slotted into place.

FINALLY. I'm so glad this hurdle has been addressed. Even I was getting like...okay boys, it's time to be honest here, have that talk, give the ol' smoochy smooch and let's move on! I wanted it to be something I hadn't read before, and maybe it's a little cliche with hollywood but hey, rain kisses are cute, aren't they?! Let them kiss - THORIN USING HIS WORDS. Look, I don't wanna sound cocky or complacent, but this scene had even me melting into a puddle of goo.

It's always nice when the writer loves their work, right???

I needed a memorable scene. Bilbo's afraid of storms, his life gets saved, and rain kiss. All perfect things for a perfect scene and it is one of my finer moments. Sometimes all it takes is a terrifying push to get someone to take that step. We got the kiss that I denied everyone in a few chapters previously, though let's be real, the fireflies would have been much better than lightning and rain water.

All that mutual pining and worrying about baggage and burdens was for nothing. It was irrelevant and could be tossed down the mountainside. Thorin wasn’t sure when the last time he had felt so light was. Was this what tossing your cares aside felt like?

Still keeping one arm up with the side of his coat as a shield from a good portion of the rain, Thorin’s other hand carefully cupped just below Bilbo’s jaw, rubbing a thumb across the small and barely visible cleft of that smooth chin.

Bilbo was the first to pull back, and found his cheeks aflame with Thorin inching forward as if to chase those lips before their eyes locked again. “As romantic as a kiss in the rain is…can we please go home?”

Was it too sappy to declare that a location didn’t make a home, but a person did?

“You’re my home,” Apparently not sappy enough for Thorin to spill the words. Funny how one small gesture removed an entire emotional blockade that he had been trying to keep up all this time.

Bilbo hummed slightly in delight at the words, giving a firm nod in agreement. “You’re my home too.” Dropping back to his normal height instead of being raised on his toes, Bilbo moved to lace his hand with Thorin’s free one. “Let’s get out of this storm then. I’d rather not catch a cold in all of this.”

Thorin couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at the idea of being sick. “Alright, but only because I’m not sure how susceptible hobbits are to colds. We dwarves are made of sterner stuff.”

Somehow, Bilbo didn’t quite believe that.

THE THEME OF THE STORY HAS HIT.

Home is where the heart is - it's one of my favorite themes to follow, or messages to send. Home isn't a place, it's the people you surround yourself with that make you the happiest. Whether that's family, a significant other, your best friends, that's what makes home. For these two, home has never been 'The Shire' or 'Ered Luin' or whatever places they've rested their head. I'm glad they both finally see that, and it's a message I like to put in a fair amount of my pieces, alongside some others.

And of course, another consistency that I love bringing into my pieces, Made of Sterner Stuff - based off of a one shot I did early on when posting my fics. Sick Thorin? Yes please. Plus, it's very fun to make fun of as he most certainly is not made of sterner stuff. Bilbo being the realistic one though and urging them to get out of the storm even thought it's "romantic and rainy"? That would be me.

This is nice and all, but...how about no?

As I said before, I wanted a scene you could picture, and one that would be remembered. Something that lived up to the epic expectations of Bagginshield and them finally spitting out the words we've been cheering them on to say. It might not be FIREFLIES and NORTHERN LIGHTS, but I sure as heck and happy with it and enjoy rereading it.

#razzy does commentary #galadithtir #fic: may your forge burn bright

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darling-i-read-it · 4 years ago

Text

A Room

Sam ‘Ace’ Rothstein x reader

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: insinuations to smut

Author’s Note: I’m vibing. V i b i n g

Summary: no plot really just some talking and you taking Ace upstairs to save him from Nicky

Genre: fluff

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director

(not my gif) (i wanna talk about this suit. I wanna talk about the lifechanging suit)

Ace was a popular man at this point in his life. He had the casino and he had the power that he needed to be a success story around the parts. Beyond that, he had you. He had the best girl in the world and he wasn’t exaggerating when he said that. He believed you were likely the best thing that would ever happen to him, especially since he had gotten rid of Ginger. Ginger had been problem after problem and he was glad he never married her, even though he had thought she would bring him some sort of happiness.

He had found you and that was what counted.

You stood in the middle of the floor and he could see you, through the smoke flying above people's cigarettes and the slot machine noises. You were overlooking the place like you owned it but your outfit betrayed you. It was bought by Sam, one of his favorites. A sparkly showy dress that hit your just above your knees. Your hair was done perfectly, the do perfect.

“You keep staring at my wife like that I’ll break your kneecaps,” Sam said, taking some cash from one of the dealers before turning to Nicky. He laughed, gesturing to you.

“She looks like a Goddess, the fuck am I supposed to do? It would be a crime not to look at her. It would be an insult,” Nicky said, turning to his friend. You started to walk over and Nicky slicked back his hair a bit, watching you as you did so.

“I’ll still break your knee caps,” Sam said as you approached. You put your hand carefully on his back, smiling at Nicky.

“Hi boys,” you said smoothly. “Do you mind if I steal Ace away for a few minutes Nicky?” He nodded, shrugging.

“I don’t see a problem with it as long as you come back and steal me away after.” You gave him a stare but he ignored it.

“You know I love you babe but not that much,” you promised.

“‘Ight quit it,” Sam said after a moment, grabbing you by the hit. You put your hand on his chest, looking at him with starry eyes. “Whatcha need?”

“For you to join me upstairs,” you said. “I need to run somethin by you.”

“I hope it’s that lipstick of yours,” he said cheekily. You shrugged and started to walk away, walking through the casino. Both of you were watching the floor subconsciously, making sure that everything was going smoothly.

You got into the elevator together and you hit the top floor where the two of you lived. You stepped out a few moments later and walked into the large penthouse of a house.

“Alright what is it you needed?” he asked. You walked across the large room. It was a gorgeous place and you were both quite proud of it. He used to live in a house but you wanted a place together and you got to design it all together as well so it had bits of both of you sprinkled around the room. You sat down on the light blue seat. The wall behind you was only windows, showing the backdrop of the night city.

“I thought I’d save you before Nicky did something shitty. Come here.” You gestured for him to come over and he did so, walking to stand in front of you. You crossed your legs and put your hands on the arm rests, looking him up and down. “I like your suit.”

“Thank you.”

You finally stood up and put your hands on the suit, opening the jacket a bit and then closing it.

“We should be down on the floor,” he said.

“To make sure no one cheats? In your place? They’d be super fucking stupid to do that.” You leaned into his chest and he let you. He was trying to gauge just what you were about to do. Usually you tried to throw in something random with your relationship, you had him on his toes often. He liked that about you. You were a safety but also some sort of danger. Always keeping him guessing.

“You think Nicky-”

“If you’re going to ask me if I would sleep with Nicky-”

“That’s not what I was going to ask,” he said laughing. You shrugged and turned him around so that you were facing the wall of windows. You pushed him down onto the chair lightly. You sat on his lap, slinging your legs over the side. You wrapped your arms around his neck.

“What were you going to ask?”

“You think Nicky is good for this kind of work? Like, will he make it,” he asked as though you knew any more than he did. In fact you knew less about the job. You had married into it.

“I think he’s impulsive and stupid. But that’s not really my place. I like him, he’s funny,” you said honestly. He put his hands on your waist to steady you and make sure you didn’t fall over.

He nodded.

“I don’t know.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him gently to shut him up.

“You wanna know the real reason I brought you up here Ace?” you whispered against his lips.

“What’s that?”

Your hand traveled down his chest and to his crotch. You grabbed and he laughed, stiffening up.

“Figured we’d get a room.”

“Half think Nicky would have preferred we stayed down there,” he laughed. You kissed him chastely.

“Fuck Nicky, he’ll be dead by the end of the week.”

“Let’s stop talkin about Nicky.”

“Good plan,” you said before kissing him again.

#sam rothstein x reader #sam rothstein imagines #sam ace rothstein x reader #robert de niro x reader

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petriichvrs · 4 years ago

Text

DAY SIX : one final word / a letter to noxtms.

dear : alyssa, amanda, atlas, bee, beth, birdie, blo, cherry, chris, daisy, dew, gabi, gia, hunter, j, la, lex, lucy, maeve, mozzie, nancy, plume, r, rosie, sam and last but never least, vicky.

here’s the thing. i try as much as possible to say how much i appreciate all of you having joined nox as often as i can, because i think as a person i have a tendency not to be entirely present of all the time, even while i seem it, and it’s important to me - as both admin and as someone who’s befriended what feels like everyone here - that you all know. the thing is, i’ve admined a lot of roleplays over the time i’ve been writing, some of them for longer than others, and i’ve met a bunch of you both in those groups and outside of them. i have a lot of experience, but i had never broken into the harry potter fandom ( in spite of it having formed such a key part of my childhood ) and i hadn’t realized that when i opened nox, i was going to discover such a community.

it’s really not me just saying it when i say that nox wouldn’t be NOXTMS without each and every one of you. i’m proud of the work i’ve put into the group and i accept however much i’m allowed to of the praise for it, but i’ve put maybe more into other groups and never had them feel the way that nox does. we’re all aware, obviously, it takes every writer in a group to make it something special, and i think that it’s every single one of you who has turned this group into my absolute favorite. there’s things in nox right now - like the marauders verse, but even just movie nights and a successful points system and little ic meetings - that i never could have done in another group because they just wouldn’t have worked, the combination wasn’t there, but i feel like... i struck gold with each of you, as members ? i feel like i got beyond LUCKY, and i have a tendency to over worry about nox, but you guys always make me feel a little bit safer in the knowledge that the group is okay, it’s doing good, and it’s everything i could have ever wanted.

i tried to find praise in other places for you all over the course of this meme, but i’m just going to go for one quick fire round. alyssa, you really are so fucking funny, and you created something really special with avalon and the king arthur myth thing she’s got going on. amanda, mary is the most thought out oc i’ve maybe ever seen and we might’ve had to wait a while for a ron, but he’s brilliant. atlas, you have a tendency to not see yourself the way you ought to, but heather and jo are two showstopping characters that we’re so lucky to have, and you yourself are a wonderful member who i’m so glad came back. bee, i’ve seen what you can do with harry elsewhere and i have you to thank for the fact nox even exists, really : you reminded me through your writing how much i love the world, and your takes on marietta and charlie are perfect. beth, lavender is such an unfairly hated character in canon, and she deserved someone like you picking her up and breathing fresh life into her, which you’re doing amazingly. birdie, for someone who likes to admit they haven’t done much in groups, you’ve really slotted yourself right in here, and i can’t pluck one character from your lineup - you do something admirable with all of them, and i really do hope you’ll RECONSIDER your stance on a fifth. blo... i love everything you do, i really always have, and your writing is a testament to just how talented you are, but i don’t know one person who puts as much continuous thought into their characters as you do, and it really shows.

cherry, i made a joke once about how if you could do something special with jughead jones i shouldn’t be shocked about what you can do with better source characters, but it’s not even a joke anymore... what you started with hermione you’re continuing with lucius and percy, and i love everything about them. chris, this is the second time you’ve joined nox as someone who doesn’t know much about it, but i’m so grateful you did it as my characters kid - i love when we get to play family dynamics most of all, and oriana is an absolute gem. daisy, chatting with you is a dream, and your mind is just... amazing - you do something with george that plays into my favorite sort of character tropes, and zephyrine is something so different and fun that i can’t wait to write with them too. dew, not just anyone would pick up gregory goyle and try and do something amazing with him, so i’ve been not-so-patiently waiting to toss everyone i’ve got at him since your intro. gabi, knox is one of my favorite ocs and for someone who only brought in an oc, to start with, you’ve managed to slot her in brilliantly. gia, what can i even say for you... as always you bring everything you have to the table, and i get to write not just connections that are genuinely FUN ( damien and niko, anybody? ) but also my favorite sort, which comprise of... family and friendships like molly / ginny & tonks / ginny with one of my favorite writers, yet again. hunter, i’m so glad i borderline peer pressured you into picking up pansy, because she’s been a joy to see in action, and a pretty great addition to your roster of characters - that already includes angelina and mason, two characters i love reading the replies of.

j, most astoria’s i’ve seen have gotten lost on the ‘draco’s dead wife’ thing and have forgotten to turn her into her own, unique character - the same can’t be said here, and astoria has fast become one of my favorite individual characters because you’re at her heart. la, i haven’t gotten to see enough of beatrix yet, but i think anyone who wants to play into an umbridge family is so brave and so talented, so i can’t wait to see and do more. lex... absolute love of my fuckin life ? not many people would join a group even though they don’t know much of the source material and absolutely immerse themself in it, but you’ve done this now... more than once- and each and every time, you manage to craft characters i really do ROOT for and love so much. please be fuckin nicer to yourself always, you’re so talented and i love you so much. lucy, gabrielle deserves to be given a character arc beyond ‘damsel in distress’, and so far, i’ve loved everything you’ve done with her. she’s a breath of fresh air on the dash and i think we’re lucky to have you ! maeve, LISTEN. LISTEN TO ME. I’M HOLDING YOUR FACE BETWEEN MY HANDS RIGHT NOW, BECAUSE THIS IS SO UNBELIEVABLY EMBARRASSING: YOU ARE SO TALENTED, YOU ARE SO IMPORTANT TO THE FUNDAMENTAL SOMETHING THAT MAKES UP WHAT NOX IS, YOU HAVE BROUGHT ME CHARACTERS I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW I NEEDED SO BADLY ( HELLO THEO N OLIVER ) AND I LOVE THEM SO MUCH, YOU’VE DONE SOMETHING SO WONDERFUL WITH EVERY PORTRAYAL AND YOUR AESTHETICS FOR DENNIS MADE ME CRY. mozzie, you are ALSO so fucking funny, and you are yet another writer that i feel.. so lucky has been drawn to nox - blaise and luna are fascinating characters in canon, sure, but you have done something so much BETTER with them here and i cannot stress that enough to you. nancy, selene is such a fun oc, and i really, really mean that. she’s something different to the status quo, and i feel blessed that i get to have as close a connection as i do with her.

plume, you yourself have been nothing short of the most lovely ooc presence, and i’m so glad that it’s someone like you who’s bringing parvati patil ( the noxtms variant ) to life, and so happy whenever i see her on the dash. r, i could go on for paragraphs on you alone - you were always one of my favorite writers in eq, and i was always so HOPEFUL you would finally cave and join nox. thank you for being here, and thank you for my daughter, thank you for my sister, thank you for these characters i love. rosie, you haven’t gotten a chance to even settle in yet, but that isn’t going to stop me from expressing how excited i am to have a bill weasley, finally, and to see what you do with him ! sam, the other love of my life... you don’t get enough CREDIT for just how brilliantly you’ve characterized viktor krum, especially, but you also don’t get enough for how you gave us the loveliest child of severus snape we could have ever asked for, and the hottest dowson i ever did see. you go through it far more than you should have to, but you’re such a talented writer and such a staunch friend who i feel lucky to have made. and vicky, once again : last in alphabetical order, but certainly not in my heart. did i expect in 2020 to bond with someone over buffy ? not even a little. but i really was so fuckin’ DELIGHTED to have something i could talk to you about cause you’re just... cool, vicky, you’re so so cool, and you’re so talented at seemingly... everything ? making gifs, being a pal, writing characters like dudley dursley but also somehow making alicia and penelope equally different and fascinating and cool ? have i said cool ? have i said it ENOUGH ?

i don’t want to be done, here, but i didn’t expect for this to take so many words, so i should probably wrap it up fairly snappily : thank you all so much for joining this group i love so much, and please know regardless of all else, i love everything you’re all DOING, and everything i see. i don’t say that enough, for certain, but i’m going to try and be better about it. beep beep, bitches : it’s my undying love and affection.

not to sound like severus snape but like. always,

rachel.

#nox.task #how am i meant to claim like .. points for this #this feels like something i cant claim points for

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localkatshelter · 4 years ago

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Okame’s Underbelly: Anticipation |1st|

(Shinso x OC)

Katsumi's POV (localvillageidiot#0870) and Shinso's POV (hecker#8339)

Summary:

Two people with a common passion meet unexpectedly during one of Shinso's lowest moments. He'd like to forget it ever happened but Katsumi has her own reasons for not letting it go. Through push and pull, they struggle to understand one another, regardless they can't keep away from each other.

Preview:

| How long have I been staring at myself in the fucking mirror? My eyes look so dead...but don’t they always. I realized the extra lifelessness wasn’t due to my overall apathy or shitty eyeliner; it was due to them being red and puffy. That’s no good. I hurriedly searched through the cabinet for my eye drops. They were usually used for another purpose, but today, they’ll be used to disguise the fact that I had been crying. |

(Katsumi's POV)

My head fell forward for the millionth time as I struggled to stay awake for the last five minutes of my summer remedial science lab. Why does science have to be so boring? This fucking professor always lectures for the full three hours too. How could someone possibly have this much to say about chlorophyll? All I could do was watch the clock tick by until, finally, the class was dismissed. I gathered my things as quickly as possible and headed towards my dorm building. Throwing my things onto the kitchen table, I immediately started to strip and headed towards the bathroom. The silver lining in having to come to campus in the summer for my remedial class? Getting to move in early and having the whole suite to myself. I showered quickly and put on my typical Friday night attire: some broken-in mom jeans that I embroidered and had a friend paint on paired with a comfortable faded band t-shirt I had stolen from a partner I had long forgotten the name of, tucked and held in place with some old belt I fished out of a Good Will bin a few years ago. I hummed as I put on some clear lipgloss and touched up my hair. Perfect. I made sure to set out some dinner for my fat cat who was hiding somewhere in my bedroom, likely in my sheets. For a supposed emotional support animal, I never saw much of her unless she was in the mood to cuddle, which was usually at night.

“Harley, I’m going out. I’ll be back.” I called out.

She meowed from the bed in response. I grabbed my things from the table and tossed them into my bedroom before popping my headphones in and heading out the door. I was on my way to the only place that made my summer Fridays bearable: The Squeaky Wheelhouse.

After a short while, I walked up to a dark and disheveled, yet oddly charming, building. This was my hidden gem, the highlight of my college career, a place where artists gathered to share their work and critique the world around them without fear. Friday nights were open mic nights for spoken word poetry, which I didn’t think I would like until I heard Okame perform. Their words about the plights of the world of heroism and comic book celebrities brought to life really resonated with me. Most of their pieces were critiques on how heroes navigate their jobs and how they are treated by the government, the people, and each other. I admired the way they captured the duality of appreciating heroes for what they are while also not feeling a need to bow to them as if they were gods. It felt so real to me, especially because around the same time I first heard their work, I had started my photojournalism blog on a similar topic. It was really just a love project at first. I would take pictures of heroes in the heat of battle and use them to show how human they really are. Honestly, I'm not even sure if it was me or my quirk that had the idea first. My hyperempathology quirk sometimes had a mind of its own. It was always dragging me into situations that I had no business being in. I always ended up manipulating someone's emotions to make them feel better, which had positive and negative results. On the one hand, I was glad that I could make someone feel better. On the other hand, it made me feel like shit because not only did I manipulate someone’s emotions without permission; I also absorbed the negative emotions I had alleviated. In a strange sense, the blog was my own way of alleviating myself of what I had alleviated. I had never expected it to take off either, but there I was, a month later, still taking pictures of heroes in their most desperate and vulnerable state in an effort to humanize them. I kept at it because, well, they are people after all. They aren’t gods, they have emotions, but the way the media and the government build a hero’s image doesn’t allow for much expression. It’s unfair to them; it's as if they aren't allowed to be people anymore. I had always thought I was alone in that, but apparently, I’m not. My blog has a pretty decent following now, which I am super proud of. Although I’m pretty sure that a lot of people in the hero community despise or at least dislike me for basically being renegade paparazzi.

Oh well. No one knows it’s me who runs the blog. The closest anyone has ever gotten was when someone traced my IP address back to the college campus, but Kyoto University has upwards of 22,000 students enrolled. There’s no way someone would be able to find me out as long as I don’t use my personal electronics to post. Okame had also become a popular performer at the Wheelhouse and had a sort of residency time slot on Friday nights. It was weird, but I was proud of them too. I felt like we were similar, almost connected by our mutual views and creative outlets. On top of that, they used a pseudonym and a ghost performer just like I used a pen name and hid my IP address for my work. All of the aligning characteristics made me think we would get along if we ever met, but that’ll probably never happen.

I walked into the building, waving to the Friday night staff that I had gotten to know over the summer. I took a seat on a comfortable looking armchair near the back corner of the main room that had a decent view of the small performance stage. I opened up a book that I brought with me to read until the performances started. I ordered a large mint tea and settled in, anticipating Okame’s latest insight.

(Shinso's POV)

I had bitten my lips raw at this point. There’s no way it’s actually over. We’ve broken up so many times before, and we’ve always managed to hash it out. But this time felt different. She wasn’t returning my texts with curt responses. She wasn’t posting about me subliminally on her social media to piss me off. She didn’t show up at my house with the gifts I had given her and dramatically throw them at me. No angry voicemails. No tears. No nothing. The strangest part was that her last text wished me well, even though I ended it this time around. All of it almost felt like a real goodbye. But still, there’s no way.

I had to talk to her tonight to make sure. Throughout our whole relationship, despite our arguing, we never missed a Friday at The Squeaky Wheelhouse. That was our way to ease the stress from the strife of the week prior. No matter how mad we were, we would still begrudgingly sit together and enjoy the show. By the end of the night, we would always manage to soften towards each other once again. Even if my piece of the week was bitterly aimed at her, she still respected me enough to put my voice out there and perform it for me. That’s what I loved about her. She knew attention made me squeamish and vulnerability was definitely not my favorite pastime. I shared the document that contained today's piece with her. It was an apology. She could barely squeeze those out of me normally, so she had to know I was deadly serious this time around. I tried not to envision her reaction or dwell on whether or not she would even accept my apology because it made me so anxious that I wanted to jump out of my skin.

How long have I been staring at myself in the fucking mirror? My eyes look so dead...but don’t they always. I realized the extra lifelessness wasn’t due to my overall apathy or shitty eyeliner; it was due to them being red and puffy. That’s no good. I hurriedly searched through the cabinet for my eyedrops. They were usually used for another purpose, but today, they’ll be used to disguise the fact that I had been crying. Save those tears for later, Shinso. She’s seen me cry even less than she’s heard me apologize. Numbness was the best blanket I’ve ever had. But tonight, I’ll avoid covering myself up. I need to show her that I care because I’m known to fucking suck at it. After I applied the drops, I roughly ran my fingers through my torturously messy violet mane, exhaling heavily. I tried to dress up a little this Friday. I know it’s trivial, but I want to be my best for her tonight. My outfit was made up of my typical dark colors, but I dressed it up with a black jean jacket, chelsea boots, and a few bulky rings that she gifted me but were too cumbersome to actually wear. What makes them even more annoying is that I’ve been fiddling with them all evening to distract myself, and let me tell you, it’s not working. I have another hour until I have to leave; I need a better distraction.

I plopped myself down on my bed with my laptop and clicked on my “The Underbelly'' bookmark. I always loved the irony of this blog served as an escape but also as a merciless glimpse into reality for me. My leg bounced as the page loaded—no new posts. Shit...well, it has only been a couple of days. I thoroughly looked forward to the new content because the author and I are eerily like-minded as far as hero ideology. Sometimes I felt as if I wrote a few of the entries myself. They’re the only person that I felt connected to on a philosophical level, and finally having that was comforting, to say the least. It was a bit taboo to criticize heroes so harshly because it was easy to be labeled as ungrateful. I’ve personally always felt like a great way to show appreciation is to continuously try to improve a system that everyone relies on. I guess people just don’t like to make sense. Hero work is honestly one of the few things I actually cared about, and to see people be so dismissive really pissed me off. Then again, people don’t really know I feel this way. I try not to let people get into my head too much. That’s why I created my Okame persona. I wanted to get my views out there without making it about myself at all. I felt it didn’t really hold true to the purpose of my message, with the whole not making hero’s these god-like figureheads simply for doing what’s right. That and...I hate when people look at me for more than a few seconds. My searing glare usually fixed that right quick. Quickly getting over the minor disappointment, I closed my laptop. Well, I didn’t have another alternative distraction, so I decided to say fuck it and head to the kitchen for some liquid courage.

I downed about two shots of rum. I was taking the bus there anyway, so it’s not like it mattered. I checked my watch, 30 more minutes. I wracked my brain for something to alleviate the unbearable anticipation as I blankly stared at the bottle of rum. Oh! I could pick up her favorite soju. It’s super strong, so we usually reserve it for a day where we don’t plan to do shit else but enjoy each other's company. But I feel like if we’re gonna hash all the bullshit out, we might need to be generously buzzed. Liquor store it is. I adjusted my collar before I headed out the door.

I decided on four bottles of the grapefruit soju because she really likes tart flavors. She always made fun of me for liking the sweeter sojus, but I’ll let her think she has the better taste tonight. The drinks were hidden away in a plastic bag tucked under my feet. I tried to settle in my seat towards the back as I checked my watch again for the fifteenth time. It was now 5 minutes after the starting time. Guess both the show and my girlfriend(?) are running late. My hands automatically began scratching at the already chipped polish on my nails. She’s been uncharacteristically calm during this fight; I wonder if she’ll stay that way once she sees me.

#hitoshi shinso #my hero academia #mha #mha fanfiction #bnha #boku no hero academia #fanfic #shinso #shinso x oc #Okame's Underbelly

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acrowsnestofbaubles · 4 years ago

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Mao Akiyama Quotes

I decided to make some quotes for my magia record oc as if she were in the game. Hope you enjoy!

Self Introduction 1: “Are you new here? Kamihama is my home, so don’t think I won’t fight hard for it. I promise you that I will keep an open mind. Whatever is in the past will stay in the past. It is your actions now that will determine if you are a good friend.”

Self Introduction 2: “Mao Akiyama, at your service. I hope we can be friends… oh? Does that sound too childish? Sorry…”

...

Story Chapter End 1: “Thank you, Ran. I hope we can finish the witch system once and for all.”

Story Chapter End 2: “Mom, please, I‘m fine. If only you knew what I was a part of. Would you have stopped me?”

Story Chapter End 3: “Do I really deserve a second chance? I will think about what you said, Mifuyu, but it isn’t like you haven’t been wrong before.”

Story Select 1: “To think that it is all over now…”

Story Select 2: “I hope to see Ran again one day.”

Story Select 3: “I have never been the best at fighting, but I will give it my all.”

Story Select 4: “That day will be forever burned in my memories.”

Story Select 5: “Would we have been friends if we were not magical girls?”

Story Select 6: “All magical girls should be saved.”

...

Strengthening Complete: “I have grown a lot more. I’m sure Ami would be proud.”

Strengthening Max: “Are you saying that I cannot go any further? What a pain!”

Episode Level Up: “I do hold regrets. But I must not linger and I definitely will not obscure the truth.”

Memoria Slot Gain 1: “The world is not fair, but it is our job to protect the people we love most.”

Memoria Slot Gain 2: “Do not blame yourself for something out of your control. Huh? Does it sound like I am talking about myself?”

Memoria Slot Gain 3: “I do wonder about the girls I used to work with. I hope they all find happiness.”

Awakening 1: “I hoped that by this time, I’d be able to go to the arcade with Ami and Ran. Well, there is no going back.”

Awakening 2: “People built on a tower of lies will eventually crumble. I did not expect to be caught up in the debris. But as always, I have been pulled out. This time, I will save some people myself.”

Awakening 3: “I cannot deny my feelings. I have been betrayed and have done unforgivable things. These things must not be suppressed. I will come to terms with them eventually, but I will not pretend these do not exist.”

...

First Login: “Anything you need help with? I hope I’m not bothering you. I just want to say that today is a new day and I hope you can make it a good one.”

Login (Morning): “I’ve learned to wake up early from my mom. She always went to work before my brother or I were supposed to wake up and get to school. I get up early now to spend some time with her before a long day of work. It’s the least I can do.”

Login (Noon): “I’ve come to dread lunch time more. It’s much harder to eat alone with your thoughts. I can introduce myself and make new friends, but I cannot shake the title of fixer upper from myself. I’d just be in the way.”

Login (Evening): “At the end of the school day, I’d usually go to the base to help out with learning about Doppels. I have seen a couple of girls from my school there before. Well, I think I have. I’m not sure because I never got a good look at their faces. The only one I knew for sure was Ran. We joined together after all, so there was no point in hiding it.”

Login (Night): “I don’t know. Should I call Mifuyu? I’m not sure if she is busy right now. I was hoping to ask her if we could go out to do something together. She’s the closest thing I have to an older sister. I wonder what we could do together.”

Login (Other): “Kamihama City is large, so it makes sense that girls from different regions have tension. However, it does suck having to make detours to avoid certain magical girls. My legs would be burning every time I had to go back home from the hotel. At least I don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

Login (AP Full): “Although I have been a magical girl for a while, it is still hard for me to fight witches. I guess I was never meant to be a damage dealer. But as long as I help, that should be fine, right?

Login (BP Full): I’ve seen Ran again today… Mirrors really do mess with people’s minds. I sometimes wish that copy of Ran was the real one.

...

Tap 1: “I’m a part of a true magical girl team now. It’s pretty great, isn’t it.”

Tap 2: “School has gotten more tedious as of late. I really have nowhere else to go, so I stay anyway.”

Tap 3: “Grief seeds and Soul Gems can look really pretty. I wonder what my grief seed would look like.”

Tap 4: “There is no hope for Ran coming back. Even if we could turn witches back to magical girls, I wouldn’t know where to find her body.”

Tap 5: “I never got higher than the rank of black feather. Honestly, I’m glad. I do not want to do anything else to help that cause.”

Tap 6: “My brother’s better now. He does have a limp, but he can work. That helps.”

Tap 7: “I think Kanagi remembers Ami. She became a witch much more than a while back. It seems other magical girls don’t know much about the ones before them.”

Tap 8: “We don’t need to eat food, but we still get hungry. Weird, huh?”

Tap 9: “It seems like everyone else hates us. It’s unfair, but I’m used to it by now.

...

Battle Start: “Let’s do this.”

Battle Victory 1: “I am glad we are done. Let me check your soul gems. I wouldn’t want any of you going berserk, okay?”

Battle Victory 2: “Another job well done. Let’s meet up at my place okay.”

Battle Victory 3: “We win to live another day. Do not strain yourselves unless necessary.”

...

Doppel: “I will not let all the magical girls before me to have died in vain.”

Dying: “I did my best.”

#magia record #puella magia madoka magica #magia record oc #magical girl

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molanran · 5 years ago

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april story - kang taehyun

summary: he was the one that got away.

word count: 3.3k

now playing: renee’s song - bazzi & transatlanticism - death cab for cutie & the one that got away - katy perry

taehyun couldn't wipe away the fake smile on his face as he carried box after box into his new home. chaewon walked by, chatting busily to someone on her phone, taehyun didn't really care. he could only watch her silently as she retreated into their shared bedroom, finally expelling the breath that he'd been holding.

he was doing the right thing, this is what he was meant to do. his parents had set him up with chaewon, insisting that he'd need someone befitting of his status as an heir to a company. they constantly reassured him that it's his job to listen to them, that he should be jumping up and down in excitement because he's making them proud. chaewon didn't seem to mind the engagement and tried her best to be friends with the young heir, but their relationship had never progressed anywhere past acquaintances.

taehyun and chaewon had been engaged for five years now, becoming engaged when taehyun had turned twenty-three. their wedding was only a couple of weeks away.

taehyun slowly pulled out book after book, fitting them in perfectly on the bookshelf. he continued the dull task until he had come across an old photo book, scribbles from his high school self visible on the cover. he tried to shake away the memories associated with the book, lining it up with the rest of the books only for it to fall to the ground, opening to the front page.

he couldn't help but stare fondly at the two boys present in the photo. there was a black-haired boy with his arm around a slightly taller blonde boy. the black-haired boy had a relaxed smile on his face, holding up a peace sign while the blonde had his eyes locked on the other male. their faces had taken up the majority of the shot, zooming in on the two's closeness.

taehyun fell to his knees, running his fingers softly over the photo. a warm feeling enveloped his being as he found himself lost in his memories.

taehyun couldn't help but notice the new kid stumbling around the hallway, his camera flopping around from his neck haphazardly. even when the new kid had finally reached his locker, it seemed luck wasn't on his side, because he was promptly shoved aside by a larger senior who had ignored the smaller male. taehyun watched anxiously as the new kid didn't move from the floor, instead, sighing as his shoulders drooped, checking the state of his camera. he couldn't help but feel sorry for the other, ignoring his friend's idle chatter as he strode over.

"are you okay?" taehyun offered his hand to the fallen kid, sending the other male a soft smile. the new kid looked surprised but took his hand anyway, pulling himself up to a standing position. he looked to see that the large kid was already gone, leaving himself and the blonde kid beside his locker.

"i'm fine, thanks." the new kid bowed his head slightly in thanks. taehyun couldn't help but notice the slight height difference, barely standing taller by an inch.

"i'm taehyun kang, if you need some friends, you can come and sit with me and my friends if you want?" taehyun extended his hand before he could stop himself.

"i'm m/n bae," as if he wasn't cute enough, taehyun quickly found out m/n's adorable eye smile. "and i'd like that, thank you."

"no problem, it's always scary starting at a new school." taehyun found himself talking nervously, feeling his palms become slightly sweaty.

"is it too soon to ask for a picture?" m/n held up his camera shyly. "my parents would never believe that i made friends on the first day..." m/n quickly kept talking, ranting just as nervously as taehyun.

"it's completely fine." taehyun cut off the smaller male before he ran out of breath. he couldn't help but smile at the other's dazed expression and blushing exterior. he quickly moved their faces together, ignoring the small pitter-patter of his heart as a flash went off.

taehyun switched his gaze to m/n, who held up a peace sign, paying no attention to the blonde's gaze on him.

chaewon walked by behind taehyun, her footsteps unable to be unheard. she peeked over his shoulder to see him looking at his ex-boyfriend, feelings of sympathy welling up within her. she carried on walking outside, taking another phone call.

taehyun ignored his wife-to-be's presence, finding solace in the memories and flipping to the next page. a shot of himself and m/n caught in a lip lock, surrounded by a flurry of rose petals.

"but what if they say no?" m/n complained, feeling tempted to run his fingers through the hair that sooyoung had just finished styling meticulously. the blonde quickly swiped the dark-haired male's hand away, running his own hand through m/n's hair.

"m/n, i don't know if you noticed but you look absolutely amazing." taehyun smiled, fixing m/n's tie. taehyun had to admit, the slightly other male had cleaned up very nicely, but he couldn't help the punch of jealously he felt in his chest. "whoever decides to reject your offer tonight is an absolute idiot." taehyun finally finished the last loop, smiling in satisfaction.

"are you sure i look okay? sooyoung, what do you think?" sooyoung looked up from her position on his bed, repositioning her gaze from m/n's camera to m/n's lithe figure. she was constantly amazed by the other's beauty, even feeling jealous herself because m/n was infinitely cuter than she was.

"you look absolutely smashing, m/n." sooyoung whooped in delight, taking a picture with the camera.

"and now the last thing you need for a successful confession," taehyun pulled out a bouquet of roses from sooyoung's bag, placing them delicately in m/n's hands. they cost quite a hefty amount if taehyun was being completely honest. "prom's in an hour so you better ask out whoever it is right now." taehyun took m/n's face into his hands. "you can do this, okay?"

m/n smiled at him gratefully, leaving the room, shutting the door behind him. taehyun looked at the door regretfully, bowing his head, having missed his chance to take his crush to prom.

"i should've asked him," taehyun took a seat next to sooyoung on the bed, leaning his head on her shoulder. "i had my chance and i missed it."

"i think you need to have more faith in him, taehyun." sooyoung smiled. a knock was heard, taehyun opening the door to find m/n standing with the roses in hands.

"is everything okay, m/n?"

"everything will be fine if you be my date tonight taehyun," m/n smiled charmingly, holding out the roses in front of him. taehyun could only look at him with a shocked expression on his face, barely able to choke out a confirmation. "so is that a yes?"

taehyun snatched the roses out of m/n's hands, throwing them into the air, grabbing his best friend's face and kissing the life out of him. m/n recovered quickly, reciprocating the kiss just as passionately. their lips slotted together perfectly, sending electricity through both of their bodies. m/n ignored the flash from the side, focusing on every bit of emotion running through his body. taehyun pulled away first, feeling every bit breathless as m/n looked at him affectionately.

"as much as i'm happy for you guys, i don't appreciate feeling like a third wheel here." sooyoung tried to tease them but couldn't help the smile making its way across her features. she walked forward, hooking an arm around each male's and dragging them outside. "now let's go. the limo's here."

even though sooyoung stood between them, taehyun and m/n had hearts in their eyes as they stared at each other.

taehyun ran his hand through his hair nervously, trying to stop the onslaught of tears welling up within him.

"your parents rang," chaewon's voice called out from behind him. he turned around slowly from his position on the floor, willing his tears away. "your suit fitting has been moved a week away because the designer's mother had fallen sick and now she's in hospital. but now we've got to go to the wedding cake tasting tomorrow. is that alright?" chaewon asked, stiffly polite in her question.

taehyun nodded wordlessly, returning to his previous position. chaewon bit her lip before vacating the house once again.

flipping over the page, there was a loose paper that floated outwards. taehyun opened it, revealing a polaroid of himself and m/n. it depicted himself and m/n underneath a mistletoe, holding each other.

the party was in full swing, everybody had already gotten mostly drunk. m/n could hear sooyoung's high pitched laughter from his position on the porch, making himself comfortable on the rocking chair. convincing sooyoung's parents to let her host the party was difficult. they were only swayed because m/n had told them he would be sober the entire night and because they trusted him more than sooyoung.

being the wannabe matchmaker she is, sooyoung had insisted on hanging up mistletoe above every available doorway in the entire house. even in the doorway of the bathroom. m/n originally had no problem with it, until some girls started getting awfully close to taehyun, trying him to lure him under any available mistletoe they could find. m/n tried to push down the green monster that was trying to make an appearance, retreating outside to get his wits about himself.

he let out a deep breath, watching as it disappeared off into the cold night. rubbing his hands together, m/n instead focused on the way the snowflakes floated gently to the ground, letting his thoughts drift towards taehyun.

"here you are," taehyun called, leaning on the doorway. m/n smiled as taehyun closed the door behind him, taking up a seat right next to his best friend.

"here i am," m/n nodded, returning his gaze to the falling snow. even though they had gone to prom together and shared a kiss on those many nights ago, their relationship had never changed. they still treated as each other as best friends, both of them too scared to address their feelings. taehyun shuffled closer, breathing into his hands, trying to warm them up.

instead of putting them in his pockets, taehyun grabbed m/n's hand, squeezing their fingers together tightly. m/n stiffened, but quickly relaxed, turning to lean his head on taehyun's shoulder. m/n puckered his lips on top of taehyun's neck, tickling the other.

"what was that?" taehyun asked, a serene smile gracing his lips.

"i said, i don't want to share you." m/n admitted. "i don't want those girls being around you while i'm here. you're supposed to be mine."

"silly m/n," taehyun patted m/n's cheek softly. "you're the only person my eyes go to. of course, i'm yours, but that also means you're mine, understand?" m/n nodded wordlessly, sitting up properly but squeezing taehyun's fingers tightly before staring into his eyes.

it seemed to become their thing, staring into each other's eyes. m/n had already admitted that he enjoyed it a lot. he enjoyed the feeling of looking at the one person in the world who makes him feel like a better person and having that person staring back at them in the same way.

a soft click broke them out of their lovestruck gaze, sooyoung shaking the polaroid picture. when it finally developed, she handed the picture to m/n.

"i'm so glad you're both so happy," sooyoung smiled softly, giving them both pecks on the cheek before returning to the party inside.

m/n looked at the picture carefully before taehyun's fingers tipped his chin up, locking their lips together lovingly once more.

taehyun felt his mind breaking apart as he ran his fingers over the polaroid, caressing it ever so gently. he kissed his fingers and placed them upon the picture, before setting the photobook aside to recollect his thoughts. he had half a mind to run away right this moment, to find m/n and restart his life with his soulmate at his side, but he couldn't do it. his mood dropped once more as he tried to resume his previous task of filling the bookshelf.

taehyun ignored the comforting hand that appeared on his shoulder, shrugging it off as quickly as it came. there was a hum of disapproval behind him before a kiss was placed delicately on his cheek, the footsteps behind him growing fainter and fainter. his eyes widened as his body erupted into a full blush, his entire being heating up. but when he turned around, there was no one there.

his eyes couldn't help but land on the open photo book on the ground, eventually returning to his previous position. with every memory he relived, his heart broke a little every time. he could feel his heart shattering as he turned to the back cover, a silver ring resting in a small compartment of the book.

"are you cheating on me?" m/n asked, not trying to tip-toe around the subject, leaning up from his position on taehyun's chest. the morning sun had just appeared, its rays of light illuminating taehyun's small bedroom. taehyun tried not to look offended, even if he did look like a gaping fish.

"no?" taehyun's voice croaked, still scratchy from just waking up. "i mean, i'm pretty sure i'm not."

"okay, that's good." m/n seemed satisfied with that answer, shrugging his shoulders and rolling off the other's body, much to taehyun's displeasure. taehyun unsuccessfully tried to pull the other male back into bed, his grasp failing by a few centimeters. m/n ignored his lover's struggle, hanging his legs off the side of the bed as he reached into his bag and pulled out a small box.

taehyun rubbed his eyes lazily as he sat up, watching his love with content eyes. m/n soon returned, taking a seat directly in front of his love with his legs crossed.

"so, i've been thinking..." m/n twiddled the box nervously in his fingers. "we've been together for four years now. we met when we were fifteen and i've never looked at someone and thought, 'he's going to be my boyfriend, i wonder what it'd be like if his lips were on mine', until i met you. and then when we became best friends, i felt like you were my good-luck charm. you were there when i got top of the class, you were at my first dance recital, you were the first person i thought of when i could choose who to spend my birthday with. i'm sorry, i'm not meant to be getting this sappy."

m/n sniffled, rubbing at the unshed tears in his eyes. taehyun smiled softly, reaching forward to peck m/n's check. he laced their fingers together and squeezed gently, urging his love to continue.

"you were the first person i thought about when i woke up and the last person i thought about at night. you're everything i've ever needed. taehyun kang, you are my best friend, the person i can always lean on, the one absolute person i know i can count on; you're the love of my life and i never want to spend another moment without you. i know we're a little too young to be married, but i was hoping that you could be mine in a more official way?"

m/n opened the box to reveal a silver ring. it was designed simply and elegantly, its most defining feature is the phrase carved out on both sides.

'my best friend, my lover, my everything'.

"how am i meant to top that when we get married?" taehyun sighed exasperatedly, flopping back on the bed. m/n smiled as taehyun quickly got back up again and planted a soft peck on his lips. "but to be completely honest, it looks like we had the same idea." he reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out a small leather box, opening it to reveal a simple gold ring.

m/n smiled brightly, setting the ring down on the drawer and leaping forward into taehyun's arms, connecting their lips together. they kissed and the world stopped turning because it couldn't bear to interrupt such a sweet moment. it was slow and comforting, passionate and powerful just like taehyun. when it heated up, intense and strong, reliable and loving just like m/n.

when the need for air becomes too great, they finally broke apart, their breaths mingling with one another.

"we've never said this before but," taehyun blushed brightly. "i love you."

"i love you too." m/n replied lovingly before his lips descended on the others.

taehyun finally let himself break down, tears streaming down his face uncontrollably. how could he be so stupid? loving m/n had quickly become synonymously with a happy life and he had let that go. like all those years together had meant nothing, when they meant everything.

chaewon stood behind him in the doorway, looking at her husband-to-be before walking away, pulling her phone out and barking angrily into it.

taehyun tried to compose himself as much as he could, he had already opened the treasure trove of memories, now he had to see them through. but he couldn't help but contain the tears that spilled when he pulled out a sketch of himself and his former love.

"i don't think i can do this anymore," taehyun lied through his teeth. m/n looked confused before freezing, realization setting in at his lover's words. "i've been lying to myself for too long now. you've been the most amazing person, m/n, don't get me wrong. but i've been thinking and i just don't think i feel that same spark for you like when we first met."

m/n nodded slowly, even if he didn't like what he was hearing.

"have you found someone else?" he croaked out sadly, willing his voice not to crack. the corner's of taehyun's mouth turned up unconsciously. "how do they make you feel?"

"she makes me see something in myself and constantly makes me want to be a better person. i see something and instead of thinking about how happy it would make me, i think about how much happier it would make her. she gives me even more comfort than my parents. i could act any way i want in front of her but i know for sure that her feelings wouldn't change." taehyun ranted on, thinking subconsciously about the person sitting across the table from him.

"have you been with her while you've been with me?" m/n's voice shrunk, but taehyun quickly grabbed his hand.

"i would never," taehyun's voice was deadly serious. "i would never break up our relationship just because i don't feel the same anymore. you deserve more than that."

"thank you for telling me," it took all of m/n's willpower to not run out of the cafe, to go back to his apartment and bury himself under his covers and never leave. it took all of his willpower to not scream at taehyun and ask why, why is he not good enough. but instead, he smiles tight-lipped as he rises from his seat and pushes it in. "i hope she makes you, even more, happier than i did. i just want you to know that i'll always treasure our memories together.

m/n leaned over to press one final kiss against taehyun's cheek before departing.

their hearts broke in sync as m/n walked away.

taehyun smiled sadly at the sketch of two of them, even if some of his tears stained the picture. he quickly put all of the things back in the box and walked upstairs. he sat down quietly on the bed, pulling out his last picture of m/n.

"it was always you, m/n. never anybody else."

#kang taehyun #txt male reader #kpop male reader #txt x male reader #kpop x male reader #angst #sad ending #taehyun x male reader #kang taehyun x male reader #male reader scenario #kpop scenario #txt

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allsassnoclass · 5 years ago

Note

Ooooo 48 for mashton for the prompts maybe?

alright alright alright this took a long time because I got distracted by dinner, washing dishes, and then a movie (whoops)

48. I called you at 2 am because I need you

Ashton shifts again and tries to take a few deep breaths, but the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach doesn't lessen. It's been building for a few days, this weight that keeps amplifying the negative voices in his head the second he turns out the light. Things are going well: there's no reason for the feeling of dread that's making his shoulders tense up constantly. Even so, he can't seem to get rid of it.

You are not worthless. You are doing enough. You deserve every piece of success that you've gotten and you are loved by those around you.

Ashton repeats it in his head like a mantra. The words feel empty.

It's been a while since he's had a night like this, but a few bad reviews of the album and some offhand comments on Twitter apparently were enough to help trigger it. Added to the fact that his exercise routine has been slipping, sleep has become elusive, and he's got about 200 unanswered emails of everyone trying to coordinate promo and lock in details for tour, he can see how the spiral started. That doesn't mean he has any better idea on how to end it.

He's reaching for his phone before he fully processes the action, barely glancing at the time before dialing and pressing it to his ear.

Michael picks up almost immediately, and it lessens some of the pressure in his chest.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Mike. Sorry, did I wake you?"

"No, I wasn't asleep yet," Michael says. Ashton can hear the rustle of sheets on the end of the line. While he maybe hadn't woken Michael fully, a few minutes later and he probably could have. A twinge of guilt zips through his veins.

"What's up?" Michael asks.

"Nothing much," Ashton answers automatically. Michael snorts. "Sorry. You don't have to talk to me. I can hang up and you can go to bed."

"Ash, you already called. You might as well tell me what's wrong."

"It's just a bad night."

Michael takes a breath. Ashton can hear him shifting again.

"Are you safe?"

"Yeah. I'm not going to do anything stupid, I just feel shitty."

"Okay. I'm coming over."

"No, you don't have to--"

"I want to," Michael interrupts. "Please? Can I come over?"

Ashton can't really resist Michael when he uses that tone of voice.

"Okay."

"Do you want to talk about it now or do you want to hear about my day until I get there?"

"Your day," Ashton says. Michael stays on the line and gives Ashton a complete play by play of what he did, starting with how his back hurt when he woke up and ending with a detailed description of the game he played before getting in bed. He lets the words wash over him, drowning out the negative thoughts he'd been plagued with. He makes himself get up to unlock the door, and then Michael is right there on his doorstep, hanging up his phone and giving Ashton a once-over.

"Want a hug?" he asks. Ashton nods.

Ashton likes how Michael hugs. It doesn't feel suffocating, but he's a solid presence against him, warm and comforting and letting Ashton know that there's someone else who can hold him up if he needs.

"Come on," Michael says, nudging him further inside. He's wearing pajama pants and his hair is a bit messy, a fingerprint smudge on his glasses. He looks soft. Ashton wants another hug, and this time he doesn't want to let go.

Michael leads the way to Ashton's room, pulling him under the covers and turning on his side to face him.

"So?" he prompts after a minute. Ashton wants to brush his hair out of his eyes, so he does. Michael takes his hand and holds it between them, warm and soft and comforting.

The dam breaks and Ashton releases everything that's been building up inside of him. Michael doesn't interrupt, just silently watches him and occasionally squeezes his hand. That's something he loves about Michael: he understands that sometimes feelings need to be released, regardless of what he's saying or how true these thoughts may be.

When he finally falls silent, exhausted but a bit lighter, Michael squeezes his hand again.

"I love you," he says. "You're a necessary part of the band, and you keep us all together. We put out a good fucking album, and you deserve to feel proud of what you've done. Tomorrow we can get started on chipping away at some of those emails together. It's going to be okay."

Michael doesn't lie to him. Tonight, his words ease even more of the weight off of him.

"Thanks," he says.

"Think you can sleep?" Michael asks. Ashton nods. "Do you want to cuddle, or do you want space? I'm a great cuddler, as you know, and you're very cuddly as much as you try to deny it."

Ashton hates asking to be held, but he has no qualms about turning over and tugging Michael's arms around him until they're pressed together, back to front. Michael spits some of his hair out of his mouth and slots their legs together.

Ashton feels the last of his heaviness dissolve and finally slips off to sleep.

#mashton #my writing #drabble #I just like when Ashton is taken care of

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chubbyooo · 5 years ago

Text

The Road to Redemption - A Blurred Lines Spinoff Chapter 6 - Looking Past Grief

last chap that's gonna be chill vibes just sayin :PPP

Kavaraa finishes her lightsaber and an opportunity arises

It had been a couple weeks but Kavaraa had finally got all the parts together for her new saber, she hadn’t heard from Theron in that time and was starting to worry but understood they had to be scarce. Master Syo had limited parts but she’d managed to pick out some nice parts she thought would make a good hilt, it was much more ornamental than her least hilt which she was excited about.

She laid the parts across the workbench and placed the black crystal in between them, she was a little nervous she hadn’t wielded a lightsaber since she fought Vaylin, the vision of losing so badly still fresh in her brain she didn’t know if she was ready. But Master Yuon believed in her and she trusted her Kavaraa closed her eyes and focussed on each of the parts, she calmed her mind thinking of the order and all that she’d done and what she was doing this for. She thought of how far Arcann had come and the strides they’d taken and then she thought of Theron she knew he’d be ok he’d promised, she took a deep breath as the parts came together and slotted into place.

She opened her eyes and saw the saberstaff floating in front of her, she took it and turned it on, the black blade shot out a quiet hum echoing in the workshop illuminated in a faint pink light. She spun it around in a quick flourish, feeling natural in her hand and smiled she had to admit she had missed this, she was about to turn it off when she heard someone open the door.

Arcann walked in and was startled trying to hide something he was holding “Master K-Kavaraa I-I didn’t realise you were in here” he tried to hide it behind him but wasn’t very good at it

Kavaraa frowned at him “yeah I was building myself a new lightsaber” she gestured to it “do you like it?” she held it out she had to admit she was quite proud

Arcann nodded “yes it’s quite pretty, I think it represents you very well” he smiled still holding something behind his back

Kavaraa raised her eyebrow “so Arcann are you going to tell me what’s behind your back” Arcann’s eyes widened but he quickly conceded knowing he couldn’t hide it

He took a set of armour out from behind him “Busted, I guess I can give it to you now though I was planning on waiting until I was ready” he showed the armour set it looked much like the knight of Zakuul’s armour only in Kavaraa’s colours “I wanted to make you something to thank you for all your help and I noticed you didn’t have any armour and I didn’t want you getting hurt so I made you some armour, do you like the colour?” Kavaraa’s mouth hung open she’d never gotten a gift like this

She smiled taking it “I love it Arcann thank you so much” she put it on over her jumpsuit “wow it fits like a glove” Arcann nodded smiling before Kavaraa pulled him into a tight hug “thanks so much Arcann” Arcann was completely surprised

He fidgeted awkwardly “uh ah um thanks you’re welcome” Kavaraa continued to hug him as he struggled “I felt like I had to repay you for all you’ve done” Kavaraa let him go with a smile

Kavaraa beamed at him “thanks Arcann this is very sweet” she cocked her head “how are you feeling about going back” Arcann took a deep sigh

He looked at her “I… I’m prepared to do it, I’m not better by any means but Master Syo has taught me how to let go of my grief when it surfaces, I will be able to help” Kavaraa smiled she was proud of how far he’d come

Kavaraa put a hand on his shoulder “I’ll be right here don’t worry you can count on me, I just hope you can get through to Nox” Arcann nodded folding his arms

He frowned “that is going to be tough but I think she’ll come around with the right pushing” Kavaraa nodded and was about to respond when Theron’s comm lit up

Kavaraa gasped quickly answering “Theron is that you I haven’t spoken to you in weeks is everything ok???” she was more frantic than she realised

Theron responded “I’m really sorry about that I couldn’t communicate with the rest of the galaxy, it’s a long story but the long and short of it is we got the gravestone back and dealt with SCORPIO” that was a long story she didn’t know where to begin

Arcann spoke up “and my sister I sensed her in conflict?” Kavaraa frowned he hadn’t told her that

Kavaraa clarified “oh yeah Theron, Arcann is here” Kavaraa realised this would be damming if they were traced but it was a little late for that

Theron sighed “right well yes she’s fine she escaped back to the throne while the Commander dealt with SCORPIO” Kavaraa assumed that meant death knowing Nox

Kavaraa breathed a sigh of relief “SCORPIO was the brains behind Vaylin’s operation without her she’s likely to slip up” she hoped anyway

Theron chuckled “that’s exactly right and well we’re taking advantage of that as Vaylin is throwing a party at Zakuul and we’re going to infiltrate it and try to corner her” Kavaraa’s eyes widened this could be it “and I was thinking we wouldn’t mind a little backup in the form of Arcann” Arcann looked to Kavaraa for her opinion

Arcann held his chin “I could but I’m not quite sure if I’m ready what do you think” Kavaraa nodded with a smile

She responded “He’s doing much better I think he could handle it and I would say helping the Alliance corner Vaylin is just about the most convincing thing you can do” Arcann nodded definitely agreeing with that

Theron seemed to agree too “Yes that’s one of the reasons I called, I will say I don’t think the commander would be able to accept you both at once so Kavaraa I’m sorry but we may need to wait on you” Kavaraa breathed a sigh of relief she was about to suggest the same

Kavaraa agreed “oh absolutely I was gonna say the same thing” she was glad they were on the same wavelength and she didn’t have to fight Vaylin

Theron seemed satisfied “Ok great I’ll send you the coordinates and time and look after yourselves, both of you” Kavaraa smiled as the comm shut off

Kavaraa turned to Arcann “are you sure you’re ready for this?” Arcann took a long deep breath

He nodded “yes I think so, I can’t keep living in isolation if I am truly to forgive myself I must return to the real world” Kavaraa smiled she was proud of how far he’d come but was a little worried still “and this plan your boyfriend has come up with sounds like a good idea using Vaylin’s ego against her” Kavaraa went turquoise did everyone think they were dating?

Kavaraa shook her head “Arcann he’s not my boyfriend we’re just friends nothing like that has happened I mean I don’t even know if he’d like it” Arcann frowned at her

He took a second “sorry I just assumed because the way you talk about him, how you worry and your closeness I do apologize” Kavaraa looked away embarrassed even emotionally stunted Arcann realised she liked Theron was she that obvious. Arcann continued “Anyway I believe I’m ready to face my sister I’ll give her a chance to stop this… but I understand that with the power she has it’s unlikely we can sway her” Arcann looked away sad

Kavaraa put a hand on his shoulder “are you ready for that eventuality” Arcann looked down not making eye contact for a second

He nodded “I have to be, I’m as much to blame as everyone else I’ll try my best to but that’s all I can do” Kavaraa comforted him, she personally didn’t know what she’d do about Vaylin she was still so scared by her so it was hard to think rationally

Kavaraa took his hand “come on if we’re leaving we have to say goodbye to Master Syo” she led him to Master Syo’s house where he was making tea

He looked over and smiled “ah Kavaraa, Arcann care to join me for tea” Kavaraa would never pass up an opportunity like that

She nodded “sure but we’ve actually come to talk to you” Master Syo raised his eyebrow “Arcann is needed to help with the fight against the eternal empire so this may be goodbye for now” Master Syo nodded his smile not wavering

He sipped his tea “I’m glad he feels ready to go back out, I must say even though I was clambering for you to leave when you got here I’ll miss the both of you” Kavaraa smiled she felt much better now that she came here

Arcann took his tea “I’ll miss you too Master Syo you’ve taught me so much I owe you a lot” Master Syo shook his head dismissing the comment

He lightly laughed “no no you don’t owe me anything I’m merely making up for my past mistakes we really helped each other” Kavaraa sipped her tea that was probably true

Kavaraa smiled at him warmly “I’ll miss you Master Syo you’ll always be one of my greatest teachers I owe you a lot, I hope when this is all over I can see you again” Master Syo seemed touched by the words while still sipping the tea quietly

Master Syo smiled “that would be nice I think I’d like that” they all sat in silence for a few more seconds

Kavaraa broke the silence “I guess we should get going thanks for everything Master Syo” he nodded as they left the chamber and headed back towards their ship, she wasn’t quite sure how this mission would go but it could be the start of saving the alliance and the commander...

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scribbles97 · 5 years ago

Text

Left Behind -- Chapter 10

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12 / Chapter 13

Read On Ao3

@gumnut-logic again, thankees for all your help with this as always and my constant poking :D <3

The sun was setting somewhere on the distant skyline, bathing the balcony in a gold glow and warming Lucy’s skin as she reclined back on the lounger. It was good to get out in the fresh air, or at least the open air. Being in the city still tasted wrong and foreign after the purity of the Island.

Part of her wished she was there now, able to talk to Sally face to face rather than across the bluish tint of the hologram.

“The clinical records got emailed across,” Sally was confirming as Lucy watched the horizon, “I’m not concerned about Tanusha’s after care, but Kyrano may need a longer term program.”

Lucy snorted and shook her head, knowing that Kyrano had a different plan for his recovery. The man had been saying as much since that morning, not even twenty-four hours after his injury and he had been planning where he would be off to next.

“He says he’s not coming back to the Island yet. That he wants to get away from things and get back to a proper balance.”

Across the comm Sally shrugged, “It’s what he did after Onaha died, are you surprised that this is any different?”

The older woman had a point, still Kyrano was taking Jeff’s disappearance personally, like he was the one to blame despite them all knowing better. Anger and frustration had taken over the usually calm man’s personality leaving him a shadow of his former self. Lucy knew the time away in Malaysia would be what he needed, a chance to reset himself and find that balance once more.

“I worry he’ll go after his brother again.” She admitted quietly, “That if I let him go and something happens to him, it will be down to me for letting him go.”

“Would Lee go with him?” Sally suggested, nodding in quiet agreement, “I know he isn’t the most like Kyrano, but maybe it’s what they both could do with?”

She hadn’t considered it, and at the initial suggestion could have scoffed at the idea of her brother going along to some quiet reflective sanctuary.

Lee was still uptight though, snapping at everything and everyone, maybe some space away from home and a chance to grieve away from his family was just what he needed.

“He snapped at Val for talking a certain way today,” Sally added, “Luce, he hasn’t been this bad since Val’s accident. I tried talking to him but he just won’t have any of it, sooner or later something is going to give.”

She sighed and nodded, not sure she was quite up to the task herself, “Do you think you could suggest it?” She asked hopefully, “Test the water? Being out here and getting ready for the passing out on Saturday… I wouldn’t say I was in the best place to bring it up.”

“Of course dear, I’ll get onto it later.” Sally smiled, briefly before her face fell to concern, “How are things coming together for the parade? Scott said something about there only being a small number this year?”

Lucy shrugged, the final details had been discussed on another call earlier in the day. It wasn’t something she had been looking forward to in the last few weeks. Passing out was Jeff’s department, the big brain behind IR, the one to give the speech and award the badges to their newest team members. He had always made a point of writing the speech himself, tweaking and altering it right up until the moment before he gave it, always going to her for suggestions. This one was meant to be even more special.

This one a father was meant to present the badge to his eldest son.

Instead it would be Lucy herself, the one that had always been happily, quiet in the background. She would still be just as honoured and proud to present the badge to Scott, but both would know who was meant to give the salute that day.

“I think a few dropped for various reasons,” she murmured, “The recruitment and training team are looking through it, they mentioned something about the change in the GDF recruitment a few years ago being part of it.”

“Nothing to be over concerned about then?” Sally nodded, “The GDF recruitment was always a fallback for those that dropped out. You and I both know it.”

Lucy had to smile, “Jeff always said, ridiculously high achievers only. Should have put that on the prospectus.”

“We can’t exactly trust anyone else with what we do,” Sally sighed, “It’s a hard business.”

She only had to think about the last few weeks to be able to agree.

“Is everything in place there to transfer lead command to Beta crew?” She asked, knowing Sally had the art of communications down to a T, even if it weren’t her preferred field.

“All organised,” Sally nodded with a smile, “The three of us will be at Roca to meet you on the day.”

“...isn’t exactly a good time to tell her-- shit.”

She turned at Virgil’s voice as he hesitated in the doorway to the balcony, raising an eyebrow at him in question.

“I’ll call you back, Sally.” She murmured, not taking her gaze from her dark haired son as he turned to head back inside.

“Virgil.” She called after him, “Out here please.”

His shoulders fell and she was sure she could hear the curses in his head out loud.

“I’ll talk to you later, Alice.”

Swinging her legs around on the lounger, she sat up and patted the cushion next to her, “Come sit kiddo.”

His sigh was heavy as he sunk down next to her, rolling his eyes as he did so.

“How’s Alice?”

His shrug was non committal, all too hopeful that he could brush her off and escape the conversation.

“She’s fine, was just filling me in on what I’ve missed this week.”

Lucy didn’t buy it. She had never gotten a chance to catch up with him after the alleged night filled with school work she had thought he had been on top of. Virgil was diligent in his studies, he had a schedule she knew he kept to with slots in the day spaced for food and relaxation.

There definitely wasn’t any night time studying on that schedule. The young man valued sleep too much.

“I thought she wasn’t the type of girl to keep you up at all hours of the night,” She nodded, “So what’s been stopping you from sleeping?”

He shrugged again, avoiding her as she tilted her head to look at him. It wasn’t like him to be so distant from her, so unwilling to discuss anything especially when something was clearly bothering him.

She wondered if it was grief that was keeping him up at night.

“I just want to help, kid,” She murmured, reaching out to take his hand, “If anything’s too much for you, you can tell me. If college is too hard, or you’re just not cop--”

He shook his head, a small smile gracing his mouth as he looked across to her, “It’s not that Mom.”

Holding his gaze, she frowned hard at him. If it wasn’t college and it wasn’t grief, she wasn’t sure where to go next. He didn’t have any romantic partners that she was aware of.

Unless…

“You haven’t fallen out with Alice have you?”

He looked away suddenly, shaking his head in a dead giveaway, “No, not really.”

Like his father, Virgil had always been a terrible liar.

Lucy was glad she’d had a chance to catch up on some of the IR reports handed over to her that week.

“You know she’s been offered a place on the next intake of engineers?”

His nod was quick as he pursed his lips, “She’d mentioned that she had applied. Wasn’t sure she’d got on it yet.”

Lucy shrugged, “I got sent through the prospective successful applicants, the academic board are just waiting on me to sign them off.”

The way his eyes snapped up to her, quick and wide and full of a sudden panic she hadn’t expected.

Oh.

“I only had chance to look at the astronauts and engineers this morning,” She told him, pretending not to watch his reaction, “They’re always the shortest lists.”

It was a lie, she always went for the Basic Training list first, eager to complete the most thorough of checks on those that hope to one day work in the field as an IR operative.

He sifted next to her, so clearly uncomfortable and not at his usual ease. It didn’t take much guess work to try and figure out just what had him so pent up.

Tilting her head she eyes him, “Any idea who might have applied for the basic training program? The board said there was a good selection this year.”

He still wouldn’t look at her as he shrugged, hands fiddling with the seam of the cushion.

“Please don’t be mad.”

She was quick to shake her head, mad was anything but the issue. When she had been presented with the list of thirty-eight students that had the qualifications to join IR, only one had been flagged up as undergoing further investigations before being offered a place on the course.

Augustus Taylor.

It was only that she had seen Virgil’s newly cropped hair the previous evening that had allowed her to place the man in the ID photo. Cleverly photoshopped, chin more rounded, eye colour just off in the wrong tone of brown, and so subtle that the initial team hadn’t caught on to the edited image.

“I’m not mad Kiddo,” She frowned, reaching out to his arm, “I mean… I want to know why, but I’m not mad.”

He sighed and leant into her touch, hesitating for a long moment before he shook his head and everything came tumbling out, “I didn’t want it to be on the basis of who I am. Just because I’m a Tracy I shouldn’t have automatic rights to get onto the program, especially if…”

He trailed off suddenly, pulling away as he sat straight again, eyes going to the deepening orange glow on the horizon.

“If?” Lucy prompted gently, slipping her arm around his broad shoulders.

Sniffing, he shook his head, “I wasn’t sure I’d be good enough for the tests to get in. I didn’t want to disappoint you if I screwed them up.”

She had more faith in him than that. All her boys had a certain degree of common sense, of logic and Virgil the most caring nature of them all. Maybe she was biased, but she knew he needn’t have worried.

“You really think any of you boys could disappoint me?”

He swallowed as he shrugged, “Scott gets his badge next week.”

Lucy shrugged in return, “And what has that got to do with you getting on to the program? Have I not told you before? You are not your brothers. You are entitled to your own path in life with your own successes and failures that are of no comparison to anyone else's.”

Looking down, he nodded, cheeks a deepening colour of read as he smiled a little, ‘Yeah, I remember.”

She turned to him, taking both of his hands in hers and waiting until she knew she had his full attention. He needed to hear her words for exactly what they were, without them being filtered through the doubt that had clearly settled in his mind.

“If this is what you want to do, then you go for it son. If you change your mind or it goes wrong or it’s harder than you anticipated nobody is going to be disappointed. You do this for you, okay?”

Taking him in her arms as he sniffled again, she hugged him tight, “We’ll always be proud of you kid, don’t forget that.”

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #scribbles writes #Left Behind #Thunderbirds AU #Lucille Tracy #Sally Tracy #Virgil Tracy #Lucy AU

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heroacademiasstuff · 5 years ago

Text

confessions

Izuku seeks relationship advice from his idol and mentor

Also available on my ao3 account: dolphins

Finally the school bell rang, signalling the end of a long, tiresome but fulfilling day. Afternoon sun began to filter through the slots in the blinds, making the little spots of dust glow like fireflies in the air. Toshinori began to gather up his textbooks and papers to grade, shoving them haphazardly into his satchel. Naomasa had told him he would to invest in a bigger bag- perhaps one that was more secure than this ragged, old thing, but he hadn't gotten round to heading to the shops yet.

Stomach beginning to ache slightly, he knew it wouldn't be long until he would need a second dose of his medication and a small meal to reduce the impending nausea. It was good he could even last this long, slinking back into his true form not long after three-thirty. Screams echoed, muffled from outside as the zoo of kids made their hurried way home. Or to the dorms. Whichever their choice. Now was the perfect time to catch up on lesson planning and have a cup of tea. Well, if what Toshinori scribbled out could be perceived as a lesson plan. It was more just a vague outline. Proper planning would take time, or so Nezu kept telling him.

Floors began to be polished, the soft whirring settling him as he opened up his diary. A knock. Gently, as though barely there on his door. At this time, who on Earth could be there? Aizawa would more than likely be at home to nap before his nightly patrol, Hizashi had his radio show and Midnight rarely stayed past the end of the bell herself.

"Come in?" Toshinori called, eyebrows raising to meet Midoriya creeping into his class like a mouse.

It was not the first time this had happened. The boy had been circling him like a timid vulture all week, fleeing right before he took hold of his pray. Questions formed in his mouth but the words refused to come up, blushing and stuttering, changing whatever subject had yet to be discussed. It was quite sweet, if Toshinori said so himself. Of course, he wouldn't draw attention to the matter as if Midoriya had something he wished to discuss, it was better to wait until he was ready. Not to say he wasn't curious.

"Young Midoriya!" He grinned, bouncing up off the chair and greeting the boy with genuine enthusiasm. Shy grins, eyes averted and darting anywhere but at him, Toshinori supposed he was attempting to grasp courage that was trapped between wedges of anxiety. "I am glad to see you. Sorry I missed lunch today, Aizawa and I discussed an upcoming class trip and it required my input as well."

"No, no, it's okay," Midoriya rubbed at his neck, flustered. Their shared lunches were unofficially official. A bento, wonderfully prepared by Inko, with a little extra for Toshinori, shared between them with stories of their day. Iida and Ochako sprawled on the grass beside them, eventually getting over the overwhelming star-struck feeling of being so close to their idol.

"Now, why are you staying behind so late? Are you behind in your homework, perhaps? I was terrible at languages and mathematics, but I can surely give it a go," Toshinori ruffled his hair, Midoriya shaking his head like a wet dog with a shy grin.

"N-no, All Might, I am not behind in my homework. I just wanted to see if-" A stutter, the first of many as the words lodged in his throat and made his face embarrassingly red. It shouldn't be so hard to talk, not when they had shared manys of meaningful conversations. "If-"

Nodding, Toshinori bit his tongue, softening his facial expression and hoping his body language radiated welcoming and non-judgemental vibes. Watching the boy struggle, drowning with unspoken words pained him a little, so much like Toshinori himself at times that it made a tender bit of his heart hurt. Very much like his first couple of months starting at U-A. It seemed like everything he said was just wrong. Especially when Aizawa would give a stare that was just confirmation of the fact that he didn't really know what we was doing.

"I would like to speak to you about something," Midoriya spluttered, word-vomitting all over the place, finally coming up for air and looking at his mentor uneasily.

Unusual. They already werespeaking. "Of course, my boy. I can prepare us some tea and we can speak about whatever you like." Toshinori led him to the staff lounge, knowing it was likely to be quiet until five in the evening as teachers took to grading papers and preparing work in their own classrooms. Sugar, two for Midoriya. It was likely he would enjoy it, after all Toshinori had witnessed him practically inhale an ice cream sundae after school more than once before. Placing the steaming cups on the small table in front, he sat down with creaky limbs and waited for the boy to speak.

It was like he was tripping up and stumbling over his words in his head, swapping them around and then abandoning them all together. Perhaps looking for a way out of this after all. Maybe he would need a little prompting. Toshinori placed his long hands in his lap and carefully began, "Is there something on your mind? Would you like to discuss your training? Is there anything you are not happy about?"

Heat flushed Midoriya's face brutally, his green hair flapping about as he shook his head. "N-no, my training is going just fine. I-" his lip quivered and he sank his teeth in to stall it. "I'm happy with the way I have been progressing so far." Fidgeting in his seat, he scratched at the worn cuticles of his nails, eyes pointed firmly down and sucked in a huge breath. "I-It is something a bit more... personal."

Oh. Toshinori's head began to swim with distant thoughts. What constituted as personal to a sixteen year old boy? Probably everything if Toshinori remembered correctly. An awkward age where everything is embarrassing and strange. Nana used to tease him relentlessly, enjoying the way he squirmed. Fondness flooded him. Midoriya was lucky in that sense, his mentor had much more tact.

Speak, his mind yelled, as he realised he had zoned out and Midoriya was in the middle of death by blushing. "Yes, please go ahead my boy. If you want to know the ins and outs of anything I will answer your questions." To the best of his ability of course.

Taking his tea with shaking hands, Midoriya wanted the ground to swallow him whole. "I... I like somebody." Air expelled from his lungs like a punctured air balloon. The words were out. Floating among them as free entities, away and out of his head at last.

Frozen, Toshinori blinked. Wasn't this a conversation he should be having with his mother? The thought registered a moment later and he imagined Midoriya bringing up potential dating to his mother and got second-hand embarrassment. His father? Now that he thought about it, the boy's father had never been mentioned in any passing comments- and this was coming from a boy who told All Might every one of his nightmares, what he had for lunch, what the new craze was going around school. Oh. It hit him with a fuzzy kind of feeling. He was the person Midoriya felt he could confide in about this matter. Swarming pride and happiness filled him.

"That's brilliant, my boy! It is good you are having these feelings. Do I know the lucky lady?" Toshinori grinned widely, placing a big hand on his shoulder and gripping it proudly. To his surprise, the boy shrunk in on himself, trembles beginning to shake his body. By now his face was a dark crimson. Quickly covering his face, Toshinori felt a lump in his throat as he heard the tell-tale signs of Midoriya covering up his crying. Choked back sobs, little coughs and eventually drops that fell to his lap in little puddles.

"Oh God. My boy, whatever is the matter?" Toshinori leaned a bit closer, tone sorrowful and moved the hand on one shoulder to the other, bringing the sobbing boy a little closer. "There is nothing wrong with having feelings for someone. It is nothing to feel bad about."

This however, made the crying worse. Sobs spluttered into scarred hands, snot and tears- the works. Toshinori fumbled. How had he got this so badly wrong? Midoriya tried to cover his face, stop the floodgates that were already wide open. Words tumbled from his mouth that Toshinori just about heard.

"It's not a girl."

It hit him like a ten tonne of bricks to the back of the head, both shocking him and not at the same time. Of course. How had he been so dense? Looking back, it should have been so clear. Midoriya went to leave, stumbling over his lanky, growing limbs and Toshinori pulled him back with a gentle tug on his wrist.

"You silly, silly boy. I knew you spouted a lot of nonsense, but crying over something like this?" Toshinori teased lightly, rubbing at his back while still keeping a soft hand around his wrist incase the boy tried to bolt. "You crybaby," he leaned forward and used his sleeve to wipe away the tears and snot on Midoriya's face. He could change the jumper later. "Having feelings for someone is a wonderous experience. It is nothing to cry about, my boy."

Midoriya gritted his teeth, face burning. "Did you not hear me? I told you it was a boy."

Toshinori let out a loud chuckle, very similar to his trademarked All Might laugh but much more genuine, with soft crinkles around his eyes. "I'm old but my hearing is just fine, young Izuku." Deciding that making jokes wasn't the best way to go about this, he pulled Midoriya's hands away from his face and forced the boy to look at him.

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with having feelings for anyone. What you are experiencing is perfectly normal. I'm very proud that you felt like you could talk to me about this, my boy." Toshinori held the back of his neck in a protective hold, staring him dead in the eyes even though there may have been tears developing in his too. Not that he was going to show that. No chance. It was feeling more and more like a conversation that should have been happening between father and son, but the more Toshinori prodded the strange, growing butterfly within his stomach, he realised that to him... it was.

Midoriya gaped up at him, mouth opening and closing with unspoken words. Eventually he pushed them out. "Have you ever felt this way?"

Grinning, Toshinori tapped a finger to his lip. "Once or twice. A good friend of mine from the past. I felt very safe when I was around him. Very safe in a very dangerous world. It was rather unusual." The gaping expression on Midoriya's face only widening as he tried to piece the words together and realise that his favourite hero, idol and mentor was not quite as straight as he had assumed.

"I didn't know." Midoriya said dumbly.

"Of course you didn't." Toshinori let out a loud chuckle, "I didn't tell the public. I prefer to keep romance out of the media, otherwise I will be just another piece of fodder for the tabloids." Placing a firm hand on his back, Toshinori gave him a wide grin. "But that doesn't mean you have to hide who you are."

"Has there been anyone since?" Midoriya prodded, tentative and still sniffling but Toshinori was just glad the tears had let up. Even if the questions were adding a little pink cast to his face. An image was in his mind. It would be highly inappropriate to divulge such information to his student, considering, but he had to admit there was a spark of something there.

Aizawa. A tender balance of respect and being kept on your toes. He appreciated not being fawned over, being held accountable and being pushed to strive for better- something he hadn't felt in a decade or two. There was little sexual to it. Toshinori rarely felt such instincts, as was his nature, but the thought of being close to and listening to the man speak. His skin prickled.

"Yes," Toshinori smiled, tint of sadness there. "But, enough about me. Tell me about this person you like."

Blushing almost on cue, Midoriya spluttered on his tea. Teenagers, Toshinori thought with a sigh. Always so hidden and withdrawn with their emotions. Although, his mind told him, you haven't exactly confessed to Aizawa now, have you?

"It is young Iida, isn't it? A wise young man with his head screwed on. A wonderful companion to keep you on the right side of trouble!" Toshinori chuckled loudly to Midoriya's horror. Shaking his head like a helicopter, it was surprising it didn't take flight and fly away.

"No! Of course not! He's my friend!" Midoriya hissed, flushing and causing his mentor to chuckle.

"Kirishima then, yes? A strong boy with an even stronger spirit." Toshinori quizzed, immediately getting his answer when Midoriya erupted into a rush of no's, and looking like he wanted to teleport to another location. Pretty much anywhere but here.

Toshinori scratched his head. "It's not Bakugo, is it?" Unable to come up with any other potential crushes, he thought rapidly to whatever boys he had seen Midoriya interact with in the past.

"Kacchan?" Midoriya looks puzzled for a moment, as though he hadn't considered the thought before. Moments later, his face darkening as he insisted. "No." Toshinori was perplexed, racking up his brain for any semblance of ideas for who it could be. Not that it really mattered, but he was a curious soul after all.

But then, it all lined up so neatly that he could have kicked himself for not realising something so obvious. He should have seen this before Midoriya even told him he had a crush on someone. It was so clear, like shining, transparent glass, that it was the one person who Midoriya had leeched onto, besides himself of course. Shoto Todoroki. A puzzle, one which he suspected Midoriya had already started to uncover. On the outside, he could see the Todoroki boy quite obviously changed his techniques and disposition after the fight with Midoriya, but looking back, he could see how this had affected the boy also. A strong ally by his side at all times. Who ever had Izuku Midoriya by their side was sure to strive.

"Ah yes, Shoto Todoroki." The name made Midoriya's face do all kinds of things. A ripple of emotions running through them, so expressive but much too fast to catch. It was so obvious. Staring them right in the face like a bright neon sign.

Realising that the boy wasn't going to offer up any words on his own accord. Toshinori began, "I'm glad. A quiet boy, but I imagine he will be loyal and a good influence on you, despite his rather... unorthodox family." To put it mildly.

"D-do you think his parents would disapprove?" Midoriya winced at words, visibly shook by Toshinori's heart laugh. One that came right from the belly and up to his throat.

"I don't believe Shoto Todoroki would be the sort to worry about such things," he explained, the worry disappitating a little on the boy's face, "In fact... it may be bold to say, but I imagine if his father disapproved, it would just be the icing on the cake."

At last the stony seriousness of Midoriya's face cracked with a half smile and it only widened when his mentor elbowed him in the ribs and leaned in mischievously, "Now, speaking of sweet things... how about we go and grab some ice cream before you head back?" It warmed his heart to see his face light up and Toshinori abandoned his plans to actually be productive.

Nerves began to creep back into the boy as he made no movement to stand up, scratching at his cuticles and studying them intently. He twitched, as though holding back and pushing himself in waves. "Young Midoriya?" Toshinori prodded lightly, suddenly stunned as a pair of arms were thrown around his slender waist and squeezed tightly. Face burning, the boy was hugging him. How adorable, Toshinori felt love spike in his chest and he hugged him back, pressing a kiss onto the top of his curly mop.

"Thank you for confiding in me, my boy. You can tell me anything," he tapped Midoriya's nose teasingly. "-And your mother, don't forget." Midoriya nodded seriously and Toshinori grabbed his satchel. "Come on, maybe I can stretch to burgers as well."

The next day, Toshinori was unintentionally being as conspicuous as possible, watching behind a large oak tree, sipping his coffee and studying the private conversation between Midoriya and his crush. Todoroki was as solemn as ever, nodding slightly at times and ignoring the way Midoriya was practically imploding with bottled-up anxiety, frothing up at the sides in the form of an endless blush and stuttering words. Of course, it had never been his intention to intrude on such a personal interaction, and the guilt was all on him, but someone would have to be there incase the Todoroki boy broke his heart. He wasn't being... protective. It was just a precaution.

The kids on the playground eyed the creepy, skinny guy peering in between leaves with curiosity.

Toshinori had the life ripped out of him when a silent figure slinked up beside him and startled him into an eruption of coughs. Blood leaked between his fingers and he swung round to meet Aizawa who had a flicker of amusement in his dark eyes. A travel cup dotted in cartoon cats perched between his hands.

"Aizawa-san," he wiped his mouth on a handkerchief and caught his breath, "You always catch me off guard."

"I'm testing your reflexes." he replied deadpan, without a beat. "You're slacking from retirement."

"Oh, go easy on me," Toshinori let out a laugh.

Aizawa rolled his eyes, sipping on his drink. "Care to tell me why you are lurking in trees? Is UA so easy for you that you have nothing better to do?" he snipped, "If you are running out of work to do, I can assure you I can find something to occupy you."

Sweat began to blossom on his forehead at the intimidating man before him. God, he felt more like one of the students getting scolded rather than a fellow teacher. His hands trembled slightly and despite the height difference, he felt tiny. "No, no, I have plenty to do as always. I-I just have a matter of urgency to attend to."

"A matter that involves skulking around in trees, yes?" Aizawa had his hand on his hip.

Oh. He wasn't getting off the hook that easily. Sighing, he caved like a soft boiled egg being poked in the yolk. "I'm worried about young Midoriya. I can't divulge too much... but he is having a rather difficult conversation a-and I'd like to make sure it goes okay."

Aizawa's face did something, quirked slightly before whatever he was thinking was shut out. "Fine. But our students can handle their own problems, as worried as you are- standing over here and fretting isn't going to help anything. Stop being such a mother hen."

Holding his hands up in defeat, everything that Aizawa was saying was entirely true and he knew it. But as he began to follow behind, he shot back a last glance and noticed the conversation had ended between his students and the boy was hurdling towards him at a rapid pace. Once Todoroki was firmly out of sight, of course. His hiding place wasn't very good then, he supposed. "All Might-sensei!" He shouted, throwing himself at his mentor with a grin despite the fact that Aizawa was standing just a few feet away.

"I take it everything went alright then?" Toshinori pried. Midoriya put two thumbs up and his face said it all. Shoto Todoroki had blushed and was quiet for more than a few minutes, enough time for Midoriya to gather up all of the reasons why this had been a terrible, terrible idea, but then he had smiled, soft and his eyes creased at the corners. Stars aligned just perfectly and he had admitted he felt the same. Ever since the sports festival, it was the first time he had felt such emotions come in a rush and they had agreed to hang out after school.

"I'm so proud of you, my boy. I knew you could do it!" Sun shone down on All Might casting a halo of light before him. A sneaky grin began to creep onto Midoriya face, a snake crawling out of the wreckage.

"I think you should take your own advice, All Might-sensei," he muttered, before running off towards his next class, hair flapping about in the wind.

Looking at him go with a fond smile, then back at Aizawa staring at him with a stern expression, butterflies fluttering. He supposed it might be worth a shot.

#bnha fic #mha fic #my hero academia fic #dad might #dadmight #toshinori yagi #midoriya izuku #aizawa shouta #all might #erasermight

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aliferous-ly · 6 years ago

Text

The Setting Sun

yall. Yall. i wrote a fic im so proud of myself. This is Possibly a series, if y’all want it !! otherwise standalone /peace sign/ also, if you like a certain pairing then mention it bcos idk which pairing yet, if any, so :3c

Summary: “He... Logan wasn’t angry, at the events. He just came to a realization, like dust, sitting heavy in his lungs. If he coughed his entire life would go black and gray, and he wouldn’t be able to stop.”

AKA Logan realizes he’s not the best person to be Thomas’s Logic. So he makes a new one.

Words: 3196

Genre: angst, some fluff. Logangst, of course

Warnings: implied character death for a moment (I promise, he does not die). deprecation, not showing all the sides in the most flattering light (like humans), disappearance.. if there’s anything else, please let me know!

writing tag: @sassy-in-glasses, @rose-gold-roman, @justanotherpurplebutterfly, @echomist13

Logan came to the realization like Roman might describe love: slowly, and then all at once.

He was increasingly perceptive of the other sides’ actions, though he wasn’t sure if this was a side effect of being Logic or if it were more... paying astute attention to their every move.

But he started noticing the little things, like when Virgil mentioned how certain long silences made him nervous and attentive to every single move.

And the word games of sarcasm that sometimes, used to, fly over his head.

But he’d gotten better.

And he’d gotten so much worse for it.

He noticed Roman’s roll of the eyes when Logan turned away, or sometimes in full view, turning to look at Thomas, get a load of this guy. He noticed the disdainful flick of his fingers, the push of his shoulders, the sneer on his lips that might disappear in moments time.

Of course he saw Patton’s strained smile, his frown at Logan’s exposition, just hold back a bit next time, bud, we don’t want any wounded feelings around here! The concerned jolt of his gaze, flipping between Virgil and Roman and Logan, uncertainty, forced delight, the simmer of it’ll all be okay, let’s just take a step back and talk about it! even though Logan knew “it” would always be feelings and not the actual issue at hand.

And Virgil’s candid nature hid such secrecy that Logan couldn’t miss the darkened expression, the gentle lean away, how Virgil would talk about how Logan disrespected him, or used to, and in the next heartbeat force Logan to shift for his means. The listen, dude, you might want to lay off a bit. Of course, Logan could do that, of course.

He couldn’t miss, then, Thomas wincing, the muscles in his face contracting into something (something) and he’d make eye contact with Roman or Virgil and they’d have that look. He couldn’t miss Thomas’s awkward stance, the way he’d shift when Logan stepped up to speak, the defense alighting in everyone’s eyes the moment Logan opened his mouth.

He... Logan wasn’t angry, at the events. He just came to a realization, like dust, sitting heavy in his lungs. If he coughed his entire life would go black and gray, and he wouldn’t be able to stop.

He couldn’t cough. He couldn’t mess up.

Logan massaged the center of his chest, staring into a shard of broken glass glittering rainbow in the light of the mindscape. Every side had one; they’re own personal escape into Thomas’s core, the centerpiece of his existence.

Too long spent in there, and they would dissolve into Thomas. And I wouldn’t want to lose you, Patton told Virgil. Please don’t go back.

Logan wouldn’t leave without a second thought. He couldn’t do that to them; Logic was a particularly important piece to discussion, and Logan knew that he... that Logic would be needed, for the pieces to fit together. For the code to run properly.

Viscous despair surged through his veins, slogging and clogging his throat and heart, and Logan knew he was no longer needed. Not as Logan. As a facet of Thomas’s personality, he’d failed, and grown too far from the center.

Logan exhaled, closing his eyes and ignoring the trails down his cheeks. Touching the cold surface, he slowly drew his fingers away, trails of electric blue and steel grey extracting from the glass. Logan pulled the essence of Logic from Thomas’s core, the very thought that had been used to make him – only, different, because Logan... Logan could not be a repeat, he could not be another stumble in the process of Thomas’s life.

He gathered synopsis, collected and connecting every (important) aspect of Logic into one humanoid figure. They were comprised of long strings like nerves, dark blue and gleaming.

One more thing. Logan took a moment, or two, to think. He couldn’t mess this part up; done incorrectly, Logan would cause the very problem he was seeking to repair.

One breath, two, and Logan tapped his index finger against his heart, wincing as he drew out a long strand of glowing silver, waving ribbon-like through the air. The world dulled a little at the edges, his connection to Thomas waning and dissolving like morning dew. He suddenly couldn’t remember what year Thomas graduated, or how long he’d studied to be an engineer.

(He remembered twenty Disney facts that Virgil and Roman had tag teamed in teaching him, he remembered Patton’s favorite tea and how much sugar he liked in his coffee, he remembered–)

Logan wove the silver through the blue, interlocking the two until he’d created a fully new being, complete with all of Logan’s capabilities and (Logan slid his fingers away from the silver) his connection to Thomas.

“You’re going to fix everything I’ve destroyed,” Logan said softly. He leaned forward, suddenly tired, rubbing at his temples. “I’m sorry for pinning you with the responsibility. But with luck, you’ll be just the right Logic for them.”

Logan cradled the blue strands shaped like a jaw, and pressed a single kiss to their forehead. “You’ll succeed where I’ve failed,” he said, as life and autonomy filled the shape of a human Logan had created. Skin stitched over blue wiring, eyes glowing the silver of Logan’s connection as they blinked open.

“You are Logic,” Logan said, exhausted and fading fast. “You know your purpose. There are others like you, but they do not know you yet.”

The new Logic stared at him, unblinking. They opened their mouth and said, “What are you?”

Logan smiled, brown eyes crinkling at the edges. “I’m nothing.”

“But you are here,” they said. “You cannot be nothing. Nothing does not exist.”

“Truly, I am,” Logan said. He reached out a hand, the skin and veins and bones disappearing, fading like a mirage. “You see? I am vanishing.”

They blinked once, then. “You are Logic.”

“No,” Logan said. He shook his head. “I was.”

His body finally got the cue, and Logan faded just like Roman had once explained love:

Slowly, and then all at once.

I was.

I am no longer.

—

Roman heard a whisper through the mindscape and looked up from his book, narrowing his eyes.

“Roman?” Patton asked, doing a jigsaw puzzle with Virgil. “What’s up?”

“I heard something,” Roman said.

Virgil snorted. “Like, a ghost? Are we haunted? Can we be haunted?” he sounded excited about the concept.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Roman said. They made faces at each other, a common “you’re irritating” that they exchanged.

“Maybe I’m the ghost, and you’re just now noticing my ghostly attributes,” Virgil said, wiggling his fingers.

“If any of us were a ghost, it’d be Logan,” Roman said, laughing. “From how often he holes himself up in his room nowadays.” He winced, then, because yikes, he forgot to watch his mouth again. He waited for Patton’s chiding be nice to Logan, Roman, that he’d always gotten with Virgil, and frowned when it didn’t come.

Virgil snorted before refocusing on the puzzle, evidently done with the conversation. Patton made a small noise of victory, slotting a piece into place. Virgil’s face softened with a smile.

Roman turned back around, leaning against the couch, brows furrowed. Something was wrong with the mindscape, something off. But if Virgil wasn’t noting anything, then it had to be solely in Roman’s realm.

Because... well, Roman couldn’t explain it, really, just a couple feelings thrown together with erratic stitching into a mismatched blanket that barely worked. But if he had to hazard a guess, something had been created, and shifted, and something – he longed to know what – added, to him, to his job.

The last part made him a little indignant because honestly, wasn’t his job hard enough? Which side decided well, this is a little much for me, Roman can take it!

Probably... well, probably Logan, but it didn’t seem logical for Logan to dump something else on Roman, not when Logan knew how stressed Roman could get, not when Logan was uncomfortably familiar with Roman’s breakdowns.

“Hey Virgil,” Roman said, throwing an arm on the back of the couch and turning to look at the table.

Virgil sighed. “What, couldn’t stand silence for more than five minutes?”

“It was three minutes and forty five seconds and I cannot, in fact, stand upon silence so no, I cannot,” Roman said, the words tumbling from his mouth before he could think. “Nerd,” he tacked on at the end, lamely and without heat.

Patton stopped moving, his and Virgil’s gaze stopping on Roman’s face, expressions twisted with confusion.

Virgil laughed uncomfortably, shifting in his chair. “You might be spending a little too much time with Logan, man.”

“I think it’s a good thing!” Patton said. “Logan can be a tough nut to crack.”

Roman frowned, because he wasn’t really, although he... he hadn’t really tried, as of late, to focus on him.

“I’m... I’m gonna go to imagination,” Roman said.

“Alright, kiddo!” Patton said. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just...” Roman searched for an excuse, half-standing, when an idea struck him. He trained his face into a cocky, pompous expression, drawing on Thomas’s ability as an actor, falling into his role easily. “I’m bored. Reading this novel has not been as stimulating as promised, and I need to fight something.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and Roman internally grinned. Ace in the hole. Patton laughed and said, “Go ahead, bud! We’re not holding you back!”

Roman stood fully, stretching and setting the book on the side table, careful not to bend any of the pages. His books were littered with dogears and highlights, but Logan’s were meticulously cared for, only the best of the best with perfect folds (favorite parts) and notes.

Roman sank out to the hallway they collectively called home, each of their rooms branching out. Patton’s, of course, was adorned with various positive imagery with the overarching pale blue theme. Virgil’s was pitch black, delicate engravings of purple, covered in Logan’s notes and Patton’s pictures and Roman’s odd stickynote varying from return my earbuds you heathen to a realistic drawing of a chicken.

He stood in front of Logan’s door, eyeing the straight white and blue lines. They really needed to paint over this, it didn’t encompass Logan at all. Roman had a few ideas... maybe he would tell Logan, while he was here.

Roman knocked. “Logan?” he called out, puffing his chest to make his voice sound bigger. “It’s time to emerge from hibernation!”

Nothing.

Roman blinked a few times. Was Logan not in his room? But then, where else would he be? “Logan? Look, I’m sorry I was going back and forth with you on the blue and pink colors, it was so much like the sleeping beauty dress that I couldn’t resist.”

A few more seconds, and Roman frowned. “Are you not in there? Hello?” He knocked a few more times, just to be sure. Maybe he had earbuds in, or something.

The door swung open, Roman’s fist poised, and everything tilted on its axis for three horrible seconds.

“Who...” Roman choked on his words, confusion-fear-bewilderment filling his veins. “Who are you?”

They didn’t move, eyes open and unblinking, a striking silver color. “I am not a who. I am a what. I am Logic.”

Something small and dark twinged in Roman’s chest and he shook his head. “No. No, you’re not. Where’s Logan?”

“At the present moment, I am uncertain.” A channel of silver lit up their cheekbones, like wires in a circuit board. “Logan did not tell me where he was going, only that he was.”

“Logan is Logic, you’re... you’re not Logic,” Roman said again, shivering. This was wrong, this was wrong. “Why are you here?”

“I am the manifestation of Thomas Foley Sanders’s Logic, intended to add reasoning to certain discussions.”

“No, Logan is,” Roman tried. They didn’t blink, which was really starting to unnerve him on a whole different level. “I don’t understand.”

They regarded him for a moment. “Very well. I will expound. Logan created me ten minutes and thirteen point three seconds ago. He used the mindscape to do so.”

Roman flinched. Logan created something. Logan created... he swallowed, throat thick.

They – Logic? – continued. “The former Logic said, ”You are Logic. You know your purpose. There are others like you, but they do not know you yet.“ When I inquired of his being, he stated, ”I am nothing.“ This is paradoxical situation, so I sought to remedy his flawed thinking. He said, ”You see? I am vanishing.“ His fingers disappeared into the air, of a way I am thus uncertain. I called him this ”Logic“, as you did, but he corrected my flawed verbiage and stated, ”No. I was.“ Soon after his statement, the rest of his body vanished. I have been standing in the room, collecting data for my success here. Evidently, the former Logic knew his job was being fulfilled incorrectly, and decided to find a solution. I was created as the solution.”

Roman couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. “What?”

“Would you like me to repeat?”

“No, no,” Roman stuttered, out. “No. No, Logan wouldn’t... how did he make you? How?”

“From the data I have obtained,” they said, still not blinking or moving, as if they were a picture on a background, “the former Logic gathered the essence of Logic into a singular being from the data of the mindscape. He inserted that being with a silver strand – of which I am uncertain of the reason – and gave the being life.”

“The silver,” Roman whispered, realization dawning in his eyes. “The silver is the connection to Thomas, you need it to be one of his sides, I’ve never heard of... transferring, or whatever he did...”

Roman fell quiet, the silence deafening to his ears. Logic hadn’t invited him into Logan’s room, though Roman wondered if Logic knew common societal practices, or if he was merely... a computer. A vessel.

A thought struck him and Roman’s spine shot ramrod straight. He stared at Logic intently, just barely stopping himself from grabbing their shoulders and shaking (just to get some movement, some life). “The golden string. What did he do with it?”

A few seconds passed as they processed this. “I am in no possession of a golden strand.”

“But where – where–” Roman stopped, took a breath, and reworded his sentence. “What did he look like before he disappeared? Did he glow, or were his eyes a different color? His veins?”

Roman counted one, two, three, four, five before Logic spoke. “The former Logic had skin much lighter than a healthy human being, being transparent and pale. His veins were not red or blue but a copper, gold color. His eyes were brown, but the irises had lines of gold within them, which steadily took over the entire iris.”

Roman lost his breath and almost fell, holding himself against the wall with one hand. “He’s... he...” Oh my god.

“Is the golden strand important to my functions?” Logic stated more than asked.

“Not... not your functions, but it’s... it’s his entire personality, his memories, his feelings,” Roman said, the words thick and heavy in his mouth.

“Very well,” they said, and asked no further questions, a silence that gave Roman a whiplash he never thought he’d feel. His curiosity, his wit...

And then it struck him.

“Oh, no, Logan,” Roman murmured, eyes wide and unblinking. Logan hadn’t left any untied odds and ends, had he? The “essence” of logic in a different being, and his extra jobs, the ones that required a personality, that required feeling, he pushed... pushed onto Roman. And, undoubtedly, part of Virgil, part of Patton... they all carried a little bit of Logan in them, now.

Roman had Logan’s scathing wit, his quick comebacks.

He didn’t want them.

“The gold,” Roman said. “When he vanished, did he have a mirror on him? A shard of glass?”

“I am uncertain.”

“And you don’t have any desire to learn? To figure it out? Wrack your brain?”

“I do not have desire,” they said so plainly that Roman wanted to cry.

“Okay, I need to... I need,” Roman gestured a bit with his hand, thoughts running a mile a minute. “Mirror mirror on the wall...” his mirror appeared in his hand moments later, gilded with gold and an intricate handle. Roman clutched it like a parched man to water. “Show me Logan.”

The mirror swirled, disney-esque to his name, before revealing a vague fog with a shimmer of gold. One moment there, gone the next, leaving just... gray.

But it was there.

Roman was certain of it.

“He’s still alive,” Roman murmured. The mirror, if it had not been made of impenetrable thought, would have cracked under the pressure of his hands. “He’s still alive.”

“The former Logic did not erase himself?” the other Logic asked.

“No, he’s still there, just his personality and thoughts and memories,” Roman said. “He didn’t erase himself. He moved himself into the mindscape. He did the sides version of moving far, far away.”

“He should have. He cannot take up space in the mindscape,” Logic said.

“His personality isn’t much space at all,” Roman said. “The mindscape is neigh endless. You know this.”

“You make a valid point. I concede,” Logic said. Roman frowned. Agreement so fast?

“But that means he’s still there,” Roman said. “He’s alive. And that means we can find him.”

“Are you certain he wishes to be found?” Logic said.

“No,” Roman said. “But I... I can’t let him just leave. I can’t. The longer he spends in the mindscape, the more he disappears... almost like growing old. I need to... He shouldn’t have left. He’s logic, he’s our logic, and I... I miss him.”

“Very well.” No fighting whatsoever.

Roman took a shuddering breath. An actual mission, with real dangers. An adventure, the romantic side of his brain whispered. Save the damsel in distress. Only, Logan had chosen to disappear into the mindscape.

But Roman couldn’t do nothing. He’d... he’d have to, at least, find him, and talk to him. It wasn’t right for Logan to up and leave without telling the others.

Then it’s decided, then?

“Okay,” Roman said. “Okay. I’m certain.” He squared his shoulders, breathing slowly. “I’m going to get him.”

Logic said nothing, stare blank and emotionless.

Goosebumps rose on Roman’s skin. “But first...” he flicked the mirror, vanishing it into the mindscape. “First, I have to tell the others.”

Logic didn’t move as Roman sunk out. Roman wondered if he’d still be standing there, hours later.

He didn’t know why Logan had left. Why Logan had committed an act so much more thorough, so much more permanent, than Virgil ducking out.

I don’t know why you left.

Roman rose in the living room, drawing Virgil and Patton’s curious gazes.

But I know one thing.

Virgil shot to his feet, entire being buzzing with energy and fear-anxiety-nervousness.

You’re not alone. You’re never alone.

Patton stood slowly, a shaky sort of realization filling his face before Roman had even said a word.

Your family is behind you.

And we’re not leaving you behind.

#again lemme know if u wanna continue bcos as of now... this is the End #sanders sides fic #logangst #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #wow a new logic? who would've thought #hopeful ending #brabbles

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