#TO SPEND HALF OF THE GAME JUST PUKING BLOOD | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

amjustagirl · 4 years ago

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CHAPTER 2 - FALLEN

Fic Summary:

The sky Oikawa Tooru’s heart seeks is a world away from the earth yours is buried in. You are a fool to trust him with your heart anyway.

Where Oikawa Tooru tries to recapture your heart.

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3

Pairing: Oikawa Tooru x fem! reader

Genre / Wordcount : Angst (7k words), cameo from MSBY 4

Warnings: One non-explicit bedroom scene.

Masterlist link here!

Tag list link here!

You catch sight of Oikawa Tooru as you bustle through the hospital’s sliding doors, your usual cup of coffee in your hand that you buy on the way to work. He’s seated in the waiting area next to a middle aged man you guess must be his manager, from the way he jumps to his feet immediately to act as a human shield as you call out breathlessly -

“T - Oikawa? What are you doing here?”

Tooru’s head swivels around to meet your gaze, and you’re shocked by the lifelessness in his eyes until you glance at the bandages wrapped around his swollen knee.

Oh.

You try not to stare, but you do so anyway. The sight of your ex-boyfriend makes you feel as if you’re seeing a ghost, a specter from some past life. You last saw him when he was twenty one, young and proud, wax wings fully spread, a speck in the skies. What a difference five years makes. His shoulders are still broad, and the tilt of his jaw is still proud, but the light in his eyes has faded to darkness, and the pallor of his skin suggests far too much time spent away from the sun.

Icarus, Icarus. Your hubris has led you to such heights, but look how far you’ve fallen.

It’s surprising there’s no news of his injury, considering he’s one third of Japan’s trifecta of setters in the volleyball scene’s monster generation. With the Olympics rapidly approaching with just over a year to go, an injury must be devastating, especially to Oikawa Tooru, with dreams of Olympic greatness and victory on his native shores.

A nurse materialises to usher Oikawa away for surgery before he can respond to the pity in your gaze. You look around. He’s alone, save for his manager. No one deserves to be wake up alone after surgery, so you call after him -

“I’ll check in on you after you’re done! Gambatte!”

He responds with a thumbs up and a weak smile.

You flip through his medical files once you get the chance.

Oikawa Tooru, twenty six. Pro-volleyball player for EJP Raijin previously, currently playing in the Argentinian league. Narrowly missed out on making the cut for the previous Olympics, but went on to represent Japan in the last three World Cups, alternating with Miya Atsumu and Kageyama Tobio. Obviously hoping for another shot at the Olympics, but that’s looking bleak from what you’re gleaning from his medical records.

His right knee has always bothered him, even during his high school days. Now, a decade later, it looks like he’s managed to tear his tendon to shreds.

Volleyball is a cruel, demanding mistress, especially for one not born a genius.

The surgery to repair a torn knee ligament is delicate work, requiring an experienced surgeon, and the road to recovery requires extensive physiotherapy. It’s no wonder he’s resorted to the modern Tokyo hospital you work in rather than returning to his native Sendai to recuperate. The downside of doing so though, is that he’d have to recover alone.

You wrinkle your nose. He may be your ex-boyfriend, but he doesn’t deserve that.

The sun is setting when you finally find the time to slip into his room.

As expected, he’s still asleep. The anesthetic will take some time to wear off. From the looks of the surgeon’s notes, the surgery was a success - though you know from the nature and extent of the injury that his road to recovery will be long and winding.

So you seat yourself in the visitor’s chair with a hot cup of tea and an onigiri to stave off your hunger at not finding time for a break any earlier. You had an awful day at work today, two of your patients puked on you, another tried to fight you when you drew his blood, and the senior registrar in the ward assigned you a mountain of paperwork that you only just managed to complete, so you give in to sleep yourself as exhaustion settles into your bones.

“Princess?”

You snap awake at the familiar nickname, ignoring the flush working its way up the back of your neck as you leap to his bedside to check his vitals, only relaxing when you’re satisfied everything’s fine.

“You’re just waking up after a surgery, Oikawa”. When his forehead crinkles in confusion at the sound of his surname, you correct yourself. “I mean - Tooru”. The corners of his cracked lips tilt up in satisfaction.

“Will you stay with me?” Tooru murmurs, eyelids beginning to droop again.

You smile fondly despite yourself. “Do you want me to?” you ask.

He manages to pout even as he’s falling back asleep. “I asked, didn’t I?”

You smooth his hair from his forehead, slotting your hand into his. “Fine, fine. Go to bed, sleeping beauty”.

He huffs an amused breath from his nose before he closes his eyes, contented. Trust Tooru to be shameless enough to cling on to his ex-girlfriend without a shred of awkwardness. You end up staying in his room for hours, watching him sleep.

The heart that you’ve locked away behind bars of bone and steel twitches, just once.

You frown when the nurse catches your sleeve. “A patient’s looking for you” she says, just as you’re about to go off on a short break.

“Who?” you reply, wondering whether it’s Sato-san who vomited this morning, or Imai-san whose blood pressure niggles at your mind. You do not expect the nurse to flush pink as she replies - “Oikawa-san”, describing the sweet young man with lovely brown eyes and such a charming voice.

You slip back into his room when your shift ends. You expect to see a shadow of a man with broken wings, and you do catch a fleeting glimpse of Tooru staring wistfully out of the window, face tilted towards the sun before he turns to you with a wide smile and a pleased - “you came!”

This is the Oikawa Tooru you are accustomed to dealing with. “Stop flirting with the nurses”, you tell him briskly, bustling over to look at his files. “They have jobs to do, don’t use them to carry messages to me.”

“But I’m boredddd.”

“I’m sure you have volleyball videos to watch.”

“I watched them all day today. ‘Sides, I watched all the matches on today already, twice – and I have plenty of time to watch them a third time. I have plenty of time to catch up with you, I haven’t seen you in so long!”

Five years since you broke up to be exact, but you sidestep that fact neatly, pouring over his medical file instead. His doctors’ notes indicate his recovery is promising. He brightens up when you tell him so, playfully complaining that hospital food is shit in a thinly veiled attempt to steal your food, a habit he’s clearly not outgrown. But you’re not all that hungry anyway, so you split your pork bun in half and hand it to him, dropping into the visitor’s chair.

“So how’re you feeling?”

“Like shit. My knee hurts so muchhhh.”

You shrug, careless. “That’s pretty expected, to be honest.”

“Hmph. I thought they’d have taught you some bedside manners in medical school”, he snipes, though the effect is rather lost when his cheeks are comically round and full of food.

You laugh, the stress from your day lifting from your shoulders.

“I seem to forget them when it’s you.”

“So mean”, he pouts, hiding the familiar gleam in his eye that appears whenever he’s trying to analyse his opponents, take them apart. “As punishment, tell me about yourself. What have you been up to these days?”

You decide to treat him like any old friend, giving him the condensed run down of your professional life, how you’ve graduated from medical school (with top marks I bet, he interjects), how you chose to stay in Tokyo instead of returning to Sendai (your parents must miss you he says, and you brush him off with an airy they have other children, they’ll survive), how you chose to work in this hospital because you’re considering a specialisation in Orthopedic surgery (because of your grandma, I bet, he says, and you choose not to correct that, using your silence as a lie).

He in turn tells you about the highlights of his career, how he’s spent a year at EJP Raijin before he was headhunted to the Argentinian league, how he spent four years overseas save for summers back in Japan to train with the national team, how he’s hopeful, even now, of recovering and fighting for his spot on the Olympic roster next year.

You already knew all of that from news alerts on your phone you never forced yourself to delete, diverting him instead with a question about life in Argentina, nodding as he reminisces about his apartment in San Juan where he gets to watch the sun set over the Andes mountains, the kitchen that he stuffed full of Japanese groceries like daishi and mirin and sake and miso in his first year there just so he has a tangible reminder of home.

You stop yourself from wondering whether he thinks about the little home he shared with you with such fondness. That time has passed.

His voice wavers as he spins you stories about his teammates - Matteo, whose family owns a vineyard and taught him to appreciate wine like a proper Argentinian, Miguel, who makes the best empanadas and gets roaring drunk every time they win a match, Gabriel, who takes him to his family’s home in the mountains every other weekend because his grandmother is convinced that a single young man without family in the city will starve if he’s left to his own devices.

It seems his wings were durable enough for him to soar across the oceans, his grit and determination the foundation of the new life he’s built, whole continents away.

“It’s funny how the world works”, you remark off hand. “I never expected to see you again.”

His eyes gleam again. “The universe seems to work in funny ways.”

You start spending breaks in his room, scarfing down your lunch and dinner while he talks your ear off about the horrible sitcoms or ridiculous game shows he’s watched today. You catch him watching a video of Kageyama’s serves and you’re amused when he practically hisses when you comment idly that his kouhai has certainly improved since his high school days.

You ignore his spluttered protests that service records aren’t everything and besides, his own spike serves have definitely won Japan a game or two last year until, with the air of a boy king, he commands you to sit next to him on the hospital bed so he can pull up a compilation of his serves and his best moments.

Years might have passed, but you’re still hopeless at refusing him. Besides, isn’t it better that you distract him from the sorry state of his knee? So you do as he says, ignoring the faint flutter of your traitorous heart as he leans into your side.

“See? I told you my spike serves are amazing?”

“Yes, yes. I already knew that. I watched so many of your practices in university, remember?”

He looks at you strangely. “Did you?” he asks, leaning his head on his hand, eyes boring into yours.

You think of evenings spent sitting on the bleachers, homework in your lap as you watch as the boy you love builds the strength in his wax wings in preparation for his eventual flight. “Yes”, you admit, sheets rustling as you shift away from him, avoiding his perplexed frown. “You were probably too focused on practice to notice.”

You already know you shouldn’t spend so much time in his room, but you’ve spent most of your life doing what you should instead of what you want to so just this once, you ignore rational thought in favour of sentiment.

After all, he’ll be discharged from hospital in a week, then you’ll never see him again.

Tooru promptly proves you wrong the day before he’s scheduled to be discharged.

“I need someone to help me move into my apartment.”

“Hire a mover”, you tell him. You don’t even look up from your notes.

“Already did”, he chirps, undaunted by your apparent disinterest. “But it’d be nice to have a friend who I know will be nice enough to help poor old crippled me put my stuff away.” Then he grins cheekily, “plus I checked with that pretty nurse – Yuna-san was it? Anyway, she told me you’re off tomorrow, so you might as well spend the day with me.”

There goes your excuse to wriggle out of having to spend your rare day off with your ex.

“I have a mountain of sleep debt to pay off”, you protest, but faced with wide brown eyes and an embarrassing wobble of his lip, you comply. Still, you manage to get the promise of a free dinner out of him, so you suppose it’ll do.

Tooru doesn’t have much to unpack, a couple of cardboard boxes of clothes and books, probably because most of his belongings are still in Argentina. He laughs and raises his hands in an attempt to placate you when you lift an eyebrow, first at the lack of kitchen equipment in his furnished apartment, second at the weights and volleyball he tries to smuggle in behind your back.

“You’re not supposed to exercise for at least a month or two”, you cluck your tongue, sighing with disapproval at the furtive look he casts at the volleyball sitting at the corner of his living room.

“I can set while sitting on a stool! Don’t scold me, my heart can’t bear it”. He throws a hand across his face, brow creased dramatically.

Icarus, Icarus. You’ve already fallen once. Will you seek out the sun again?

A string of familiarity loops into a knot over your heart. If you close your eyes and count to ten, you can imagine that you’re eighteen again, chiding the boy you love for practicing too hard. But you’re twenty six now, a full fledged adult who should know better than to dabble in sentiment again (especially when it comes to brown eyed boys who only dream of the sun), so you slash through the threads connecting you to him with a flash of your teeth, bury your beating heart deeper into the dungeon you’ve built years ago of white bone and solid steel.

“Do what you want, but your neighbours will hate you if you keep thumping that damn ball against the wall.” You say, simply, dismissively.

“No one could ever hate me”, he declares with bravado. “I’ll charm them all with my charm and good looks.”

“Ridiculous”, you huff, dumping the last of his clothing into the cupboard. “Where’s the dinner you promised? I want ramen and gyoza at least.”

“So demanding”, he lilts. “I’ll order in. Tonkatsu ramen with char siu, bamboo shoots, extra spring onions with gyoza on the side?”

Your heart struggles against its shackles. He still remembers your order.

“Yes”, you finally say. “You got that right.”

He grins at you cheekily, as if to say of course.

After you gulp down your ramen, devour your gyozas, you pack up, ready to leave. You have an early shift tomorrow, and you’re already dreaming about your soft bed whilst dreading the cup of coffee you’ll have to down tomorrow morning just to stay awake.

He catches your wrist, presses the spare key to the apartment into your hand. “Come back. I want to see you again”, he says, an order and not a plea.

You are about to make up an excuse, tell him anything but the truth that you suspect it’s bad for your heart to keep seeing him again.

“Please” - he adds with a tint of fragility to his voice.

“I’ll be back when I can”, you finally say.

“Tomorrow?” he looks up at you with hopeful eyes.

“We’ll see”, you pry your hand loose from his grasp, slip out the front door.

You stay away for two days, citing your work schedule as an excuse until he wears you down with a barrage of cutesy line stickers aimed at driving home how lonely he is and how much he misses your presence. You’re being dramatic as usual, you text him dryly, but you turn up anyway at his apartment on a Friday night, letting yourself in with an armful of reports and a bucket of oden.

“How’re you doing? Are you listening to your physiotherapist? Eating properly? Sleeping well?”

“You sound like my mother”, he grouses, rolling his wheelchair to the dining table.

You flick at his forehead, he slumps back in his wheelchair. “Stop bullying the cripple’, he wheezes through his chortle.

“You deserve it”, you retort. “Don’t run away from the question. How’re you feeling?”

“It still hurts”, he admits with a mock sniff. “It should stop hurting by nowwww.”

You push your glasses up the bridge of your nose. “That’s to be expected. Your sinews just got stitched together two weeks ago. Not sure why you’d expect any less.”

“Bah, rude. At least you didn’t say I told you so”, he grumbles, spooning oden into his mouth. “That would be insufferable.”

“Well, maybe you’ll listen to me now that I’m actually a doctor”, you inform him pertly, batting away memories of a teenage boy with hazel eyes shouting indignantly at you after practice in the Seijoh gym.

Tooru snorts. “I can’t believe my eighteen year old self was dumb enough to open my future self up to a jab like that”, he complains, chewing on a cabbage roll grumpily.

“We’re all dumb at eighteen”, you remark. “You’re no exception.”

“You were dumb enough to date me”, he teases with a mocking smile.

Your spoon slips from your hand momentarily. It’s the first time he’s alluded to your past relationship.

“I was, wasn’t I”, you say lightly, before turning the conversation to Tooru’s physiotherapy sessions.

You have no wish to delve back into the past, but you’re willing to be his friend since he seems to need one for now.

Tooru’s knee recovers enough for him to shift from his wheelchair to crutches, which he points at you playfully, mimicking a gun every time you pop by for a visit. He seems to plan his physiotherapy session around your schedule, just so he can wheedle you into paying him yet another visit when your shift at the hospital end, bribing you with a cup of coffee with a hint of chocolate from the café across the street that you’ve never found the time to visit.

“Thank you, kind sir”, you say, accepting the coffee with a laugh.

“You’re welcome, my lady”, he answers with a smirk, motioning you to follow him for yet another evening to be spent in his home sitting across him, red ink smeared on your hands as you mark up the reports in your lap.

His façade that he’s coping with his injury just fine slips every so often. You catch him more often than not watching compilation videos of Kageyama and Atsumu at the World Cup this year with a strained expression on his face, or resting his chin on the windowsill whilst staring wistfully at the birds in the sky.

He does not confide about his worries to you. You’re not sure you want him to.

But you can’t explain to yourself the impulse to purchase a bird feeder for his balcony, nor the glow-in-the-dark poster of the constellations that you cart into his bedroom until your heart has to scramble for equilibrium when he thanks you, his smile soft.

“In exchange for all the coffee you’ve bought me”, you reply, turning away to hide all evidence of your heart’s betrayal, the diffusion of blood in your cheeks.

A month passes. Then another.

The crutches get kept in the storeroom. A limp remains, but the degree which his knee can bend increases by the day. His mood improves even further, and you constantly find yourself swerving to avoid his affectionate gazes, his attempts at flirtation.

“You’re looking so pretty today!” he lilts, fitting his arm snugly into the crook of your elbow as you walk down the neon lit streets of Tokyo. He insisted on this outing, and in the custom of your rekindled friendship, managed to convince you to accompany him on your off day so he can get crepes from Harajuku notwithstanding the fact that it takes forty five minutes on the train and his knee still acts up from time to time.

“It’s my first time downtown in a month”, you tell him. “Of course I’m going to dress up.” You don’t tell him you spent far too long in front of your closet, tossing outfits on your bed until you found one that complements you just right.

He buys you trinkets, hair accessories that you’ll never wear, tries to win you ridiculous stuffed toys from the claw machine.

“You’re wasting money”, you scold, wiping the whipped cream from his mouth.

“It’s not a waste if it’s for you”, he tells you, with startling sincerity that you still doubt.

He doesn’t mean it, you tell yourself. It’s just Tooru being Tooru.

You refuse to admit what’s staring you in the face until you have to duck your head to avoid his attempt at pressing his lips to your cheek.

“Goodnight, Tooru”, you manage to say before you bolt off into the night. You check to make sure your heart is still under lock and key.

It is, but it beats resentfully. Tooru, it beats against its bars with frightening intensity. Tooru. Tooru.

You ignore it. You know what’s best for it.

You stay away from him for a fortnight, requesting for a change in your schedule without updating him, taking the other exit from the hospital so you don’t have to see him. You stay away until he manages to wear you down yet again, texting you the most ridiculous conspiracy theories about your absence from his life – you must be abducted by aliens, he texts you once, or your mother forced you to marry some stranger, I can break you out if you just say the word.

He has a guest, you hear another voice, deeper, filled with gravel and intensity, so different from Tooru’s lighter lilt. You do not mean to eavesdrop, but you don’t want to interrupt Tooru when he has a rare guest over, and there’s nowhere else for you wait save for the dusty front step, so you settle yourself in, pen poised to continue your work.

“What did the doctor say? When are you coming back for practice?”

“I’m doing good! The physiotherapist thinks I can try light exercise next week. If all goes well, I’ll be back to practice in a month.”

“Sounds promising.”

“I had a good medical team. And I’m actually resting properly!”

“Shittykawa. Stop sounding so proud about doing what’s necessary for your recovery.”

“Iwa-channnn, stop being mean to meeee!”

Ah, Iwaizumi, of course. You haven’t seen him in years, but you remember him from school, a stoic boy with a good heart. You wonder if he’s changed.

“Are you planning on heading back to Argentina?”

Tooru answers without hesitation. “Of course”, he says airily. “As long as they take me back.”

Your foolish heart shudders with disappointment. Of course. If you run your fingers down his spine, you’ll probably find blooms of wax attached to his very bone.

You are about to stand up and leave when Tooru speaks up again.

“But I’m going to enjoy my time in Japan while I’m back. Did I tell you I reconnected with my ex? She’s great, it feels like I never left.”

The firestorm of blood in your ears nearly drowns out Iwaizumi’s growled ‘piece of shit’ (he truly hasn’t changed after all), the clatter of glassware as Tooru protests that he’s not playing with your heart, he truly cares about you, his sullen silence when Iwaizumi demands what’s going to happen when he leaves Japan for Argentina, when he inevitably leaves you behind (yet again).

Of course.

You know his heart longs for the sky. There is no space for you.

You barely have time to react when the door swings open, Iwaizumi on the verge of storming out. You plaster a smile to your face that does not fool him, but you hang on to it nonetheless, cracks appearing only when he gives you a wide eyed look of sympathy that only pours oil onto the flaming war between your brain and your heart.

“It’s fine”, you say, and though he clearly does not believe you, he bows and leaves anyway.

Tooru stares at you, mouth open, stumbling over himself with apologies and demands for you to tell him what you’ve overheard, but you motion for him to just stop with your hand, wave aside his protest that he means what he said, he truly likes you.

Your heart screeches in delight, but your mind is firmly in the driver’s seat.

“Let’s just pretend I never heard you say that, and we can continue just as before.”

“As friends?” he says, twisting his lips as if the words taste sour in his mouth. He clutches at your shoulders.

“I want more. I want you.”

Your heart thrums in agreement, but you recall assembling the remains of your heart back into your chest whilst kneeling on the cold bathroom floor half a decade ago. The span of five years should have molded you to view your shared past with pragmatism, but your heart seems to have forgotten its lesson. You shake your head.

“There’s no way you truly want me. I don’t think you’ve only ever had space in your heart for anything but your goals.”

Your response emerges more bitter than you intend.

“That’s not true”, he weakly protests. “I care about you.”

Not enough, you refrain from telling him. “Let’s remain friends”, you do say, and he opens his mouth to object again, but at the hard look you give him, he slumps back with a defeated nod.

He tries to respect your decision, never complaining when you keep a careful arm’s length distance from him, though you can feel his heated gaze on you whenever he thinks you won’t notice, hear his quiet sighs whenever you shy away from any accidental touch. He droops when you turn down his invite for lunch with his family when they come down for a visit, citing work even though he knows you’re off for the day.

Still, it’s manageable and he says he needs you, so you return for visits, at least twice weekly, offering encouraging smiles and friendly words when he returns first to light exercise, then to rehabilitative practice a month later, just as he predicted.

He carves out time for dinners with you, taking care to ask about your day, preferring to spin you stories about the pigeons and doves and crows crowding his balcony rather than talking about volleyball or his practice. He insists on escorting you to his apartment after work when you allow him to, offering you his arm with a soft smile that disarms you, dissolves any resistance.

It’s an uneasy equilibrium, but it’ll suffice.

The careful balance you’ve maintained in the space between you and Tooru is shattered when you find you’re not the only one who’s decided to pay him a surprise visit on a Friday night.

“Tooru, ya didn’t say ya got yerself a pretty girl during yer break”, a man with bleach blonde hair wolf whistles appreciatively when you step into the apartment.

“I’m just a friend”, you reply confusedly before Tooru’s shout “Shove off, Miya” confirms that one Miya Atsumu has decided to invade Tooru’s apartment. Well, him and what seems like half the MSBY team, with Hinata Shoyo, Bokuto Koutaro and Sakusa Kiyoomi squashed uncomfortably on Tooru’s tiny sofa, long legs stretched across the living room.

It turns out the MSBY team just finished a game in Tokyo, and Hinata dragged his teammates to visit Tooru in a wholesome bid to cheer him up. You try to excuse yourself after exchanging nods with Sakusa (he hasn’t changed much from his university days) when Miya Atsumu blocks your retreat with a drawled invite for Izakaya and the promise of karaoke after.

Tooru mouths playfully at you don’t leave me alone with these clowns (you’re tempted to point out that he’s very much one himself), and before you can even blink, you find yourself dragged along to the nearest Izakaya, impressed by the amount of food each man polishes off - skewers of chicken hearts and cartilage, bowls of potato salad and rice with braised pork belly, listening to stories of their exploits on the national team together, stumbling into the karaoke bar tipsy from the beers that Miya Atsumu pressed into your hand, head heavy enough to allow him to wind an arm around your waist.

“She’s too old for you, ‘Tsumu-kun”, Tooru trills, inserting himself in between you and Atsumu, mouth taut with aggravation.

“I’m not old, just a year older”, you roll your eyes, as the blonde setter backs away, lips turned up in amusement. Tooru is not placated, muttering how the younger setter is a douche and a sleeze bag as he drapes his jacket over you like a blanket. You nestle against his side, head on his shoulder as his arm rests protectively around you.

Atsumu watches this with raised eyebrows, whistling slowly, opening his mouth to remark that he’s never seen Oikawa so smitten before when Hinata interrupts with a chirped “‘Tsum-Tsum, join me!”, handing him a microphone while bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Karaoke is the most fun you’ve had in ages. Hinata and Bokuto and Atsumu sing all their favourite anime theme songs with gusto - Atsumu even gets misty eyed when he croons Sparkle by Radwimps, reddening when everyone teases him for being a romantic sap, Bokuto shaking his hips to Western pop hits, Hinata showing off his Spanish skills. Sakusa refuses to even touch the microphone but you suppose it’s a win that he’s even in the karaoke booth with all of you.

Tooru slaps away Atsumu’s attempts at handing you any further alcohol, forcing you to down cups of water until you are no longer glassy eyed, but still tipsy enough to agree to sing ridiculous K-On songs with Hintata and Bokuto, not stopping even when Tooru whips out his phone to video the entire performance with an indulgent smile.

“Delete it!” you squeal, losing your balance when you try swiping the phone out of his hands, tripping into his lap instead.

“In your dreams, princess”, Tooru chuckles, his arms snaking around you like a vise.

“Anndd that’s our cue to call it a night”, Atsumu quips, herding Hinata and Bokuto out onto the street, Sakusa heaving an audible sigh of relief. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, kids!” he calls over his shoulder, throwing you a wink.

“I’m technically his senpai, cheeky brat”, Tooru mutters, the irritation in his voice washing away as you giggle. “C’mon, it’s too late for you to get home and my place is nearer to the hospital so you might as well stay over tonight. You can take the bed, I’ll take the sofa.”

You shake your head, arguing that you couldn’t possibly turn an invalid like him out of his bed but he huffs at the insinuation that he’s anything but well, his knee almost whole again. You give in after he convinces you that it’d be more inconvenient for him to escort you all the way to your own home rather than put you up for the night, and you allow him to loop his arm around yours and lead you back to his apartment.

It’s not the first time you’ve been in his apartment this late, not by a long shot, but it is the first time you’re over with the intention of staying over. The t-shirt you borrow from Tooru hangs off your frame, the scent of the fabric softener Tooru uses is familiar. You would’ve preferred being tipsier to dull your senses, but alcohol would only impair your logic, allow your heart to prevail, so you try to quell the thrumming of your blood in your veins by curling up on a seat by the window with a cup of tea when Tooru emerges from his shower.

“Ready for bed?” he asks, towelling off his hair, frowning when you shake your head. “It’s late, you have work tomorrow, even if it’s the afternoon shift.”

“It’s fine”, you say without turning your head to face him. “Go to bed, I’ll take the couch.”

“I’m insulted, princess. What kind of a man d’you think I am to make his guest sleep on the couch? ”

It’s less dangerous to ignore him, so you pay him no mind, choosing instead to lean your chin in your hand and look up towards the night sky. It soothes you, the moon an old friend, reminding of five years’ worth of quiet nights spent in your own flat, filtering your younger self into adulthood.

“What’re you looking at?” He takes a step forward, kneels down next to you.

“The moon and the stars”, you say dreamily. “They’re pretty tonight.”

A myriad of weather conditions must coincide to allow the stars to even be visible in the polluted Tokyo night sky, but tonight of all nights fate intervenes, the stars align. The sky is cloudless, the full moon hangs heavy, the stars shimmer and dance.

“Are they?” Tooru whispers. “I haven’t noticed.”

You finally turn to look at him. “Why’re you staring at me?”

The unconscious echo of your past - a boy and a girl, falling in love under the same night sky makes his mouth twist wistfully, eyes faded gold.

“Because you are my sun, my moon and my stars. I love you better than anything in the sky.”

Your mouth falls open, your heart suddenly roaring, pounding against its restraints.

“You can’t mean that”, you whisper. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

“I do”, he says, with heartbreaking sincerity. “And I always will.”

Nostalgia, aided by the lingering alcohol in your veins opens the gate to your foolish heart. You want to pretend that you are eighteen again, without a care in the world, indulging in the warmth of his hand on the small of your back, the caress of his breath on your cheek. Your lips beckon his, swallowing the catch of his breath when your hands slide under his shirt.

“Are you sure about this?” His eyes are hungry, almost ravenous, but his hands still hover at the hem of your top.

“Yes”, you murmur, pressing open mouthed kisses to the column of his neck. “Please, Tooru - please.”

He carries you into the bedroom, undresses you with shaking hands, chanting your name with reverence, almost a prayer. His eyes darken with desperation and need, unwilling to allow himself any release until you fall apart boneless, caged in his arms.

“Stay with me”, he murmurs, after you’ve both cleaned up a second time, tugging you into bed.

It’s laughable. Five years on, Oikawa Tooru still has the power to make your mind lose all reason (however temporarily). With a single heated look, he commands your heart to break willingly in his hands. How could you not have learnt your lesson? The conversation between him and Iwaizumi merely confirms what you’ve known all this while.

(The sky his heart seeks is a world away from the earth yours is buried in)

Even now, you can see the glimmer of golden wax feathers budding along his spine, gleaming under the pale moonlight.

You lie under the covers until his breath evens out, then you stumble out of bed. You force your heart to relinquish the keys to its freedom, handing it back to logic and rationality, pulling on your clothing, folding your borrowed clothing aside.

Tooru mumbles your name, his hand outstretched towards you. “Come back”, he says in his sleep, fragility tinting the edges of his words.

Your fingers miss the doorknob by an inch. You dash your foolish hopes against the darkness of the room, put on your resolve like armour, leave your spare key on the kitchen counter.

Without looking back, you slip out into the night.

273 notes · View notes

dulce-pjm · 4 years ago

Text

under the table

word count: 3.8k

genre: fluff

summary: you’re doing great! 100% amazing. a-okay! alright, no you’re not. but what does everyone say is the perfect cure for a heart that never had the chance to be broken? game night, of course! but knowing you, there will always be complications.

You’re at peace.

When things are like this, the universe is in harmony. You’re tucked away from the rest of the world, cuddled up under a blanket next to the thing most important to you, a relaxed smile across your face. You think you could spend the rest of your life here, content and happy. Safe.

But you’ve never been particularly lucky.

“The fuck is a board game club?”

“It’s fun, I promise!” Mina looks you up and down as she stands in the doorway of your bedroom. You know how you look, sprawled on your soft comforter in sweats and a grease-stained t-shirt. Your laptop sits beside you, a trashy drama playing in the background, while your hands are occupied with your phone and a large bowl of popcorn.

“But I’m having fun now.” You gesture to your well-planned setup, grimacing when Mina turns the lights on. “Dude. Warning, please.” She sighs, stepping into the room with a stern look on her face. You can already feel your stubborn resolve slipping.

Mina shuts your laptop and moves it aside, plopping onto the bed next to you. She takes your non-butter-coated hand in hers.

“Y/N, I love you. But it’s Friday night. We haven’t gone out in a month. A month!” You glare, offended she’d bring up the subject.

“Because you know what happened last time!” Mina opens her mouth to argue, but shuts it quickly. This discussion always goes the same direction anyway.

“This won’t be like last time,” she reassures, taking the popcorn bowl from you, much to your dismay. “I promise. You like games! It’ll be fun and tonight we’re betting, so if you win you might even have some cash to take home.”

“But I’m so happy here.” You cuddle your pillow childishly, puffing out your bottom lip. Mina is not amused. She sighs, massaging her temples.

“I didn’t want to do this,” she begins. “But you owe me, remember?” You cock your head, no memory coming to mind. She sighs in exasperation. “You dragged me to that stupid dance class last semester! By the end I thought I was gonna puke!” You scoff.

“Oh, puh-lease, you were practically drooling over the instructor. He was so hot I forgot about the pain. Too bad he has a girlfriend now. I stalked him on Instagram.” Mina laughs, a light tinkling sound compared to your usual guffawing, abrasive and obnoxious.

“So… you’ll come?” You take a moment to think, despite already knowing your answer. You were too easy to guilt-trip, you knew. Too trusting, too. But Mina was right, you did owe her. You sigh.

“Fine. I’ll come.” Mina’s entire face lights up as she cheers and hurries to her feet. Your joints creak as you heave your limbs off of the bed while Mina begins babbling instructions your way.

You were rather talented at board games. And silly banter. You might even have a chance at walking away with the money. This will be fun, you assure yourself.

“...So, yeah. Just bring ten bucks. And maybe change first.” Her eyes take one last glance at your outfit in light disgust. “Be ready in half an hour?”

“Mhmm,” you groan, stumbling to your closet. You sniff one of your old sweaters and when no ungodly stench meets you, you shrug it on in place of your tee. Mina thanks you before trotting out of the room, taking away your snack with her.

This will be fun, this will be fun.

Or, at least it better be. You make a mental note that, if this goes south, you aren’t leaving this apartment for the next six months.

After sprucing up your appearance and coating yourself with cheap perfume, you approach the supposed ‘board game club meeting’ (how the hell did that get approved, anyway?) with a newfound sense of confidence. Your smile is beaming, your shoulders are back and unbothered, your skin glowing. Wait, doesn’t that phrase mean you’re pregnant? You can’t remember. Not that pregnancy is even a remote possibility for you anyway. What with you never leaving the apartment and all.

You trail after Mina as she weaves through the library halls, before slowing in front of a corner study room. You’re astounded she made it here so easily, you had no idea this was even here. To your knowledge, this wing of the library was reserved for storage and staff.

Just as you’re about to follow her through the door, she spins to face you.

“You know, I’ve been thinking and you know if you really don’t want to go-”

“Oh my god, we’re here already! Let’s just go in!” You smile at her teasingly while she blushes. Despite how it might look to outsiders, you and Mina care about each other deeply. You appreciate how considerate she is of you.

“Alrighty then!” She turns back around and throws open the door, drawing the greetings of everyone else in the room. Your eyes land on Mark, Mina’s boyfriend, who’s already shot to his feet and pulled Mina in for a kiss.

You barely have time to scan the rest of the crowd before Mark’s wrapped you up in a hug, ruffling your hair. He’d always been friendly, definitely a little much for you. But his affectionate ways are perfect for Mina.

“Hey! Didn’t expect to see you here.” He finally parts from you, allowing you room to breathe. You shrug sheepishly.

“Well, here I am.” Your hands fidget nervously at the belt loops of your jeans. “So expect to lose.” Mark laughs, wrapping an arm around Mina. You suppress the part of you that’s immensely jealous of their easy-going relationship. You’ve never been able to achieve quite the same thing. Your relationships rarely lasted longer than a few months, at best.

“I believe it. You always outplay me in Monopoly.” He throws a thumb over his shoulder. “But Yoongi might give you a run for your money.”

Your blood runs cold. Chills travel across your skin. A fire fueled by anger and embarrassment that had almost sputtered out over the past month is suddenly reignited, a blazing furnace beneath your face and chest.

“What?” Mina’s smile becomes strained while you stand there, face void of emotion despite the thunderstorm raging inside. Her voice lowers to a harsh whisper. “I thought you said he wasn’t coming!” Mark, oblivious to the brewing conflict, smiles happily.

“Yeah, but his work thing got canceled, so I told him there was still plenty of room.” Pride beams off of his face. At any other time, Mina would congratulate him for his efforts to be inclusive and encouraging to their mutual friend. But right now, she was starting to be as panicked as you were pissed.

Your mind is flooded with memories of fun conversation, casual flirting, and, ultimately, anxious nights spent staring at your phone screen, waiting for a very specific notification to appear. But it never did. You’re starting to see red.

“God, Mark, I told you about this!” Mina turns to you, eyes frantic. “You know, if you just want to go back home, that’s okay. I’ll go with you, we can watch dramas and eat pizza and-”

“It’s fine,” you spit through clenched teeth. You force your fists to relax, allow a gentle smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes to settle across your lips.

“A- Are you sure?” Mina touches your arm with concern, forcing you to tear your gaze away from a certain someone across the room. You shrug nonchalantly, forcing your smile to go wider.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Y/N, you seriously don’t-”

“It’s fine, Mina.” She immediately clamps her mouth shut, knowing your will is set in stone by the harsh tone of your voice. She nods vigorously and steps back into the arms of a very confused Mark.

“Okay, okay.” She puts up her hands defensively before smiling and facing the rest of the group. “Who’s ready to get started?” She’s met with cheers and smiles as Mark settles into a seat beside her and starts dealing cards, leaving one empty chair, across from Yoongi.

You slide into it, meeting his intense gaze as he looks up from his phone. Not that it surprises you, but he appears exactly the same. He’s fucking gorgeous. His features are soft, yet when he meets your eyes with that piercing gaze and unreadable expression, he becomes sharp and intimidating. His greyish-brown locks just barely sit above his dark, umber eyes, effortlessly tousled. Even his taste is good, his outfit composed of a leather jacket and vintage band t-shirt, topped with a single hoop earring.

God, he is so perfect. Was so perfect, until he’d ignited your unending anger.

“Hey,” you mutter, words coming off much more bitter than intended. Whatever. It’s how you feel, anyways.

“Hey,” he replies. “Been a while.” His eyes never leave yours.

“Sure has.” Your nostrils flare against your will. “You doing alright? Gone on any more blind dates?” Yoongi’s lips twist into a scowl.

“Can’t say I have. You were the one and only.” The staredown between you two could start wars. The negative energy you’re generating sends a chill down an unsuspecting Mark’s spine.

Your brooding is interrupted when a shiny, white sticker is passed in front of you.

“It’s a name tag!” Mina explains, looking between you two anxiously. “You can decorate it. It’s fun.” You internally roll your eyes at Mina’s not-so-sly attempt to break up your silent argument.

You grab a stray pen to scribble your name, but just as the ink begins to meet the sticker, fingers tighten around your wrist. With his free hand, Yoongi takes the sticker from you, bringing it to his side of the table.

“Let me do it. Your handwriting is shit.” You grimace. He isn’t wrong. You work to get your mind moving, you’re already behind in the insult-slinging. After a brief moment, Yoongi releases your wrist and snatches the pen from your fingertips, dipping his head to start writing.

“So are your dialing abilities.” Yoongi pauses, his eyes lifting, a poorly built facade of confusion masking what you’re sure is smug pride. The little shit.

“What?” he asks curiously, pen lowering.

“You heard me.” You cross your arms and lean back in your seat, as if daring him to challenge you. This asshole had the nerve to pretend he enjoyed your company despite the less-than-ideal circumstances, treat you to a nice date, not call you ever again, NOT EVER CALL YOU AGAIN, and then pretend he didn’t know what you were talking about? God, you’d really dodged a bullet there. Or, you would have. If Yoongi had picked up the damn phone and taken a shot in the first place.

After a few seconds, a smirk plays on his lips and he shakes his head, returning to the sticker.

“I see you and Yoongi are acquainted!” Mark comments, throwing an arm over your shoulder while blissfully unaware of the situation. Oh, to be pretty and ignorant. “He’s a monster at Risk, let me tell you. He could probably take over the world if he really wanted to. Most of the time, he’s the lucky guy walking away with the payout.” Yoongi shrugs, eyes still focused on the project before him.

“Or you guys just suck.” Mark laughs, the boisterous sound rattling from his chest.

“Either way, he’s the guy to beat.” You nod in understanding as a plan hatches in your mind. You rub your hands together, not unlike a cartoon villain. Your fixed smile becomes slightly crazed and Cheshire cat-like.

Interesting. Very interesting. So, if you were to, perhaps, theoretically, make some private bets and win this game night, Yoongi would be out a shit ton of money? Now that sounded like fun, Mina be damned. Screw closure and moving on, revenge is much more gratifying.

When Yoongi finishes your nametag, you slap it on your sweater without so much as a glance, oblivious to the way his face falls.

If it took every fiber of your being, you were going to beat Yoongi’s ass, steal his money, and never ever see him again.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Fuck!

How was it possible for somebody to be good at Candyland?! The game’s pure goddamn luck. But here Yoongi was, having claimed victory for three out of the six games played so far (you claiming the other three) and being well on his way to winning the seventh and final game: Uno.

You, Yoongi, and Mina are down to three cards each, while Mark and the other participants are too caught up in rambunctious conversation to care that they’re losing terribly.

Mistakes have been made. You had egged Yoongi on into raising the bets between you two from ten to fifty dollars. And now you were fearing you’d lose. But your will was still strong, refusing to give up so easily. And where there was a will, there were Draw Four cards.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N?” Yoongi groans, reaching to draw from the pile. But at the last second, his fingers flicker back to his hand, slapping his own Draw Four card onto the table. You sigh, banging your head against the table without an ounce of embarrassment or true anger. That time had long passed. Now you were just exasperated.

Mina cries out in protest, but having nothing to counter with, she begrudgingly draws eight, eliminating her from the close race between you and Yoongi, having two cards each. Yoongi smiles apologetically, making you laugh quietly to yourself.

When he wasn’t being an ass, Yoongi still made pleasant company. He was nice and sarcastic and introspective, never failing to add something new to the conversation. Despite your initial resolve, you’d found yourself opening up to him once again, obnoxiously cracking your own jokes and telling wild stories from your past experiences. Whenever Yoongi smiled or laughed at you, your heart soared. If only he had called you back, things could be different.

But they weren’t. This is a war now. A war you intend to win.

“What are you doing?” The question startles you from the goofy selfie you’re taking as you wait for the play to make its way around the table. You set down your phone, ignoring the way that, in the picture, your eyes are straight ahead, meeting Yoongi’s, rather than directed at the camera.

“Texting my nephew.” Yoongi cocks his head, brows furrowing. “He’s five and has a tablet for some godforsaken reason. We just send each other pictures of ourselves making stupid faces back and forth. It’s silly.” You don’t know why you’re suddenly sheepish, heat rising to your face. It’s probably the bad air conditioning in this place. Yoongi’s confused expression melts into a soft smile, making the furnace beneath your cheeks blaze hotter.

“Cute,” he murmurs.

“What?” He shrugs, taking a sip at his soda. Your eyes narrow. What kind of game is he playing? Does he think flirting with you will distract you from the mission at hand? Because if so, he’s an absolute idiot.

“You’re an idiot!” you’re yelling just a few minutes later. Yoongi’s practically cackling from across the table, clutching his middle with one hand, the other holding just one card. You still had two, but no matter. It’s pretty unlikely he’ll be able to play his hand anyway. “The cookie is the backbone of the entire Oreo! Without it, the whole experience is ruined! Don’t disregard it so easily.” Yoongi only snickers more, his gums peeking out from behind his massive smile. He’s enjoying the way you get riled up so easily, how quickly he can get under your skin with the most meaningless of words.

“It doesn’t even taste good, Y/N. The least they could do is make it taste like sugar, since that’s practically all an Oreo is.” You roll your eyes.

“That ruins the whole balance. The only thing you could possibly add to an Oreo to make it better is peanut butter.”

“Peanut butter?” Yoongi leans forward in interest and slight disgust. You nod assuredly, finding yourself leaning forward as well.

“Trust me, it’ll change your life.” Yoongi looks at you earnestly.

“I’m pretty sure it’s you that’s the life-changer.” Your eyebrows pop upward, jaw momentarily dipping open before you snap it shut. No. No. You’re not falling for this again. You scoff and fall back into the incredibly uncomfortable chair, which only makes Yoongi smile proudly.

“Y/N, it’s your turn.” Mark nudges you and you barely acknowledge him, slapping your blue four onto the pile easily.

Yoongi looks at you oddly, lolling his head to the side.

“What?” you snap, giving him your best glare.

“You’re done with your turn?” he asks, expression turning slightly concerned. God, he was such a fucking tease.

“Yes I’m done, you dipshit. Play your turn.” You glance at your phone screen, seeing several notifications from your nephew and a scolding text from your sister for encouraging his behavior.

Yoongi sighs, drawing his card when he can’t play. When you glance up, there’s a smirk on his face once again.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Yoongi’s smirk deepens.

“You didn’t say ‘Uno.’” You stare at Yoongi. He starts to snicker again.

“Fuck!” you shout, ignoring Mina’s many comments about ‘language!’ and ‘non-competitive dialogue!’ Yoongi laughs in your face, not even bothering to cover his mouth and try to spare you. You’re about to go ballistic, your fists clenched as Yoongi does the favor of drawing four for you, sliding them in front of you. God, you hate him.

In the end, neither of you wins. Some freshman with glasses you didn’t know took the victory, teasing his apparent girlfriend for losing. Who even let freshmen in here, anyway? The participants decide that the winnings will be divided between you and Yoongi, since you both won three games, and the mini-bet between the two of you becomes null, with neither of you able to fully stake your claim.

But you’re the one who’s really been defeated. You couldn’t even succeed in getting a second date with this guy, what made you think you could beat him in board games?

You give Yoongi a small, meek nod before standing to go. Mina left with Mark already after double and triple-checking that you were okay to walk home alone. You make for the door, open the handle as unexpected tears threaten to prick at your eyes.

You’re so pathetic. You’d let a fucking blind date get you so upset you’d barely left your apartment in the past month except to go to class. Could you really be faulted? You hadn’t had so much fun with someone in your entire life. You could feel the connection, the spark, between the two of you. You were certain this was the one that would last. So you took the leap, gave him your number, proposed a second date. But he never called you. Not once.

You’re unlikable. Unlovable. You don’t deserve to win game night, let alone to win at life or relationships or-

“Y/N, wait up.” Yoongi’s found his way next to you as you trudge out of the library, staring straight ahead.

Great.

“What is it, Yoongi?” You shoot him a dark look, only to find his ears tinged pink and his hand awkwardly scratching his scalp.

“Well, uh, I was thinking.” The sentence ends, thought hanging unfinished in the air.

“You were… thinking?” Yoongi jolts, like he’d forgotten you were here. His eyes never meet yours, contrary to his crude confidence from before.

“Yeah! And, um-” He sighs, taking a deep inhale through his nose. “I think we should use the money we won and go on a second date.”

What.

“What?” You’re openly gaping at him now. “Why?!”

“Because I really enjoyed our first date and I’d like another one.” You’re running out of air, sputtering on your breath.

“But- But you didn’t even call me! I asked you out and now you suddenly change your mind?” After an excruciating moment, Yoongi’s eyes meet yours, panicked rather than unreadable. The image is unsettling and unfamiliar. You’re starting to feel dizzy.

“Because you gave me a fake number!” You gawk at him in confusion. “Or that’s what I thought, until you were talking earlier and I put it all together.” He grins, seemingly finding his confidence again. “Your shitty handwriting made me misread your number. I almost thought it was on purpose until now, that you just wanted to get rid of me. But it was all a misunderstanding.”

The weight of his words settles on your shoulders, making your head spin. All a misunderstanding? All those stupid tears and endless nights over… a misunderstanding? You could laugh. You do, actually. The sound makes Yoongi jump as the two of you step outside, the night oddly warm despite the time nearly reaching midnight. A stupid, dopey grin spreads across your face.

Yoongi doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t think you’re stupid or unlikable. You’d done everything right, well, almost everything right. It’s humorous, really.

“So, uh… What do ya say? Tomorrow? Seven?” You smirk.

“Bold of you to assume I’m free.” Yoongi’s grinning too, enjoying the casual banter significantly more than the way his face grew flushed and he couldn’t seem to spit out what he wanted to say.

“Well, then cancel your plans.” His eyes flash wildly and you giggle childishly, taking delight in his antics. You nod, your cheeks beginning to ache.

“Tomorrow at seven.” Yoongi grins as you prepare to go your separate ways.

“Tomorrow at seven.” You spin and begin walking the other way, but not before Yoongi can call after you again.

“What?” You laugh, yelling at him from down the sidewalk, the streetlamps barely illuminating his figure.

“Check your nametag! And text me when you’re home so I know you’re safe!” You laugh again.

“I don’t even have your number, dipshit!” Yoongi sighs loudly, the sound echoing down the empty street.

“Just check the fucking nametag!”

“Fine, fine!” You giggle as you peel the sticker off your shirt. Your giggle intensifies when you see its contents.

Along with your name, Yoongi decided to draw a small picture that you could only assume was you, composed of an angry face, frazzled hair, and devil horns. And in the bottom right corner is a string of digits. You’re grinning from ear to ear as you stare at the piece of paper. You tell yourself to find a safe place to keep it when you get home.

“Goodnight, Y/N!” he shouts, figure fading farther in the distance.

“Goodnight!”

You practically skip home, your body singing with adrenaline and joy.

You muse that your world might never be in balance or harmony, not in your lifetime, anyway.

But with you beside Yoongi, you thought it’d be pretty damn close.

#bts #bts scenario #bts fanfic #bts fluff #yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi scenario #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #suga #bts suga #bts yoongi #bts x reader #fjdslkfsdl this took me too long #watching jk's live while editing this lmao #hope you enjoy!!

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savythenillerwaffer · 4 years ago

Text

Imagine your best friends and family, the people who matter, who love you and make life worth living. And these are the people you spent all your time with.

Zim - Looking like an add for hair gel doesn't automatically make him a monster, but you've noticed things.

He thinks he's the best thing since toilet paper. He stays up all night, can't stand the sunlight, and brings home a different victim every week. And you're not saying he sucks their blood for sustenance, but you've never seen him eat or drink anything.

He must have supernatural powers, otherwise how the fuck is he getting layed more than you.

Tak - She's a perfect model of efficiency, helpful, smart, and friendly… well, at the right times.

She doesn't understand your more human imperfections. Her daily routine is rigid and well defined, violate it at your own risk.

Just watch, her head will explode any day now if she's stuck with these idiots all semester.

Pilot Dib/PD - Wherever he's from, he has a very poor judge of social norms. The idea of 'personal space' doesn't seem to register with him.

To say he has strange habits would be a disservice, and he has this… thing in his room. If it's a bong you wanna hide it, if it's a dildo you don't wanna touch it, and you don't even want to think about what else it could be.

And like any story about aliens, your friends will never believe you.

Zib - 'Machiavellian' is just one of the many extravagant words he uses to describe himself, and you doubt he even knows what it means.

If there was ever a way to "win" at studying, you're sure he has got it down to a science.

You know what they say, "Ambition is a double edged sword", and so is he.

He's the type to always overthink the plot of any movie you watch with him, usually to the point of you both falling asleep. Good luck with this one. At least he's a good snuggle buddy if your day goes bad.

Gaz - Not everyone considers being roommates as an opportunity, some see it as a life sentence.

Whenever she's around you, her time is mostly spent talking about what she's gonna do when she gets out of college. The irony is, when she actually does get her degree and freedom, she'll mostly likely have no idea what to do with it.

You bet she'll probably spend the better half of her adult life playing Nintendo games. Maybe that should be her profession.

Dib - He's funny, relatable, and just alien obsessed enough for it to be entertaining and even cute. Actually, now that it's put into words, you think that he might even be boyfriend material. I mean, he's just as desperate for love as you, what could go wrong?

(Afterwards...)

You remember when you saw that one movie in theaters and thought it was your favorite movie for months until you watched it at home and realized you didn't love it. Yeah... you'll be taking the long way to the library for a few weeks.

Pilot Zim/Cel - Ever since you first met him, he's given you this unique feeling. Not particularly bad or good, just a strange feeling.

Like a ghost, every time you look over your shoulder, expecting him to be there, he isn't.

He still retains some traits of the "Invader mentality" Zim had long ago, such as a big ego, and referring to himself in the 3rd person.

If he likes you, you probably won't know because he hides it so well.

Whatever you do, don't turn your back on him, just don't. You'd be surprised how easy it is to make him angry or sad.

Experimental Additions:

Feral Zim - Ah, the secluded neighbor, a trope that we are all familiar with. Except this one is slightly weirder... as in he kills and eats people… yeah.

Remember that little girl scout you always hear banging on neighbor's doors? Yeah, let's just say she's "out of a job" now.

He doesn't come out of his apartment a lot, usually only to "go grocery shopping" as he puts it. Even though he has probably never seen a shopping cart in his life.

Now that you think about it, maybe that "friendly gift" that he left in your mailbox wasn't actually chicken. Best not to think about it for now. You can puke your guts out once you've finished college.

#just gonna leave this here #with no context #;) wink wonk #i will explain #maybe later #roommates au #iz #invader zim #gaz #dib #zib #cel/pilot zim #pilot zim #pilot dib #PD #tak #feral zim #ultra violence!#feral

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stanbillyhargrove · 4 years ago

Text

Demons - The Rewrite

Chapter 24: Beauty In Death

TW: SUICIDE

Billy’s POV

Cat woke up sick the next morning. Her body just couldn't handle being out in the cold for as long as she had been. Steve, Max and I spent our time nursing her back to health. Bringing her tea and medicine. Tried to get her to eat some soup but everytime she did, she'd end up in the bathroom puking.

She got a fever on the third day. Woke up soaked in sweat and shivering. I skipped school for the morning to stay with her while she drifted in and out of sleep. Switched with Steve at lunch so we didn't fall too far behind on our classes.

We had to call Julie that night. Steve was helping Cat stand up and she had passed out. Just crumpled like a rag doll. Luckily, Steve caught her before she hit the floor or the table.

Julie brought some antibiotics home on her break and thanked us for taking care of Cat before leaving again.

She lasted a few more weeks with Steve and I trying our hardest to never leave her alone. She tried as best as she could to put on a happy front and pretend everything was okay. Max hung around her a lot, keeping that little spark of hope alive. We tried splitting up the nights with her so only one of us would be with Cat every night in hope that the other would be able to relax but both Steve and I had been restless on nights we were alone so we both ended up spending every night at Cat’s. The three of us would pass out sprawled against one another on the couch or Steve would take the couch while Cat and I slept in her room. There were a few times where Steve would drift off behind Cat, holding her so gently, and I would have to leave. I’d go outside to smoke and push down the spark of jealousy in my chest that set me on edge.

But I found myself thinking of Steve almost like a brother and I knew he loved Cat too. And I had to let them have that, let her have all the good in her life that she could.

We drove her to and from school and spent every possible second with her. But it had been exhausting, draining and we were starting to feel run down. Steve had been having a hard time staying awake during class, during basketball practice he had no energy and had been benched the past few days. I knew I was hitting that point of exhaustion too, my brain felt foggy and I was having a hard time focusing on anything.

And now there was a big game this week against a rival team. Coach had pulled Steve and I aside. Told us to get our shit together for the game or don't bother coming back to the team. Told us not to embarrass him.

Then the day of the game came and we were ready. We'd spent the last few nights trying to get as much sleep as we could. Cat seemed to be doing a little better so it made it easier to sleep.

"You're coming to the game, right?" Steve asked Cat.

We were in the parking lot after school. The game didn't start for a couple hours.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," she smiled, "I just need to get this assignment done. Mom will drive me back later."

Steve pulled her in for a hug, "see you later."

Cat gave Steve a quick smile, “love you, Stevie,” and squeezed his shoulder before getting in the front seat of the Camaro.

I pulled up to her house and noticed the driveway was empty except for Cat's broken down car, “your mom isn't home. Should I stay?"

Cat smiled, squeezed my hand lightly, “she'll be here soon, go get ready for your game," she leaned over to press her lips against mine, "love you, B."

I got home and scarfed down a sandwich that Susan made me before getting ready for the game. I was almost ready when Max appeared in my door.

"Is Cat coming to watch the game too?"

"Yeah, her mom's bringing her. You gunna save her a seat?"

She nodded, "I gotta tell her we finally beat the high score on that game at the arcade."

"Wow, good job, Max. She'll be proud," I said, grabbing my bag from the floor, "you ready?"

Jump.

Score.

The whistle blew.

Half time.

Our team crowded together to cheer for our last second point. Hands clapped my back. People in the stands cheered.

But when Steve and I looked out to the stands, we didn't see her.

I caught Max's eye and mouthed, "Cat?"

She shrugged and shook her head and disappointment settled heavy in my gut.

Steve and I were pulled into the locker room with the rest of the team.

He leaned in to whisper, "where is she?"

I shrugged, "don't know," I whispered back as our coach came in.

My mind was racing while our coach spoke. Is she okay? Is her mom with her? Why isn't she here? She was supposed to be here.

The rest of the game went by in a blur. The final whistle blew and we were swept up in the cheering of our celebrating team.

"We should check on her," Steve said quietly when our team started to disperse into the locker room.

"She did say her mom would be home tonight, maybe they're spending time together."

Steve didn't look convinced.

"I'll drop Max off, you pick up something to eat and we'll meet there. She's okay."

She has to be.

When I pulled up to the house, Steve had just pulled up and was getting out of his car.

Julie's car still wasn't there.

We hurried up to the door and let ourselves in.

"Cat?" I called.

We waited a second, slipping off our shoes. Steve walked in and set a box of pizza down on the kitchen counter.

"Cat?" He yelled, worry growing.

There was a note taped to the fridge, "Be back in a couple weeks. Be good, mom."

It dawned on me, "she wasn't coming home today.."

Steve took off running, grabbing Cat's bedroom doorframe to stop himself before ducking in.

"Cat?"

My heart was threatening to pound out of my chest.

“Cat?” I called, my voice ringing through the house, "Hello?"

Steve was panicking, shaking like a fucking leaf and cursing under his breath. I swallowed past the lump in my throat and pushed forward to the bathroom. Wrapped my fingers around the doorknob and twisted.

Click.

Locked.

Steve came forward to knock on the door, "Cat?

Silence.

I rattled the handle, "Cat? Can you answer me?"

We waited a second, holding our breath.

Nothing.

Steve stepped back a bit, shaking his head.

His voice hitched, "Cat, please?"

I pounced my fist against the door, "Cat, open the door!"

"Cat!" Steve yelled, losing his composure as he slammed his hand against the wood.

I pounded on the door harder, rattled the door know again, "Cat! Come on!"

Steve slammed his shoulder against the door and choked on tears.

"Back up," I said as I stepped away from the door.

I threw myself into the door as hard as I could. Wood cracked loudly under my shoulder, but not enough.

Steve had his hands in his hair, fingers clenched tight in his locks. His whole body tense.

I ran across the hall and threw my weight into the door again.

Wood splintered and gave way. The door flung open, swinging into the wall behind it.

I felt my knees give out when I saw what waited inside.

Cause while Steve had dealt with this before, had lived through this before, I wasn’t prepared for this.

Suddenly I was thrown into a memory of the first time Neil gave me a bloody nose when I was young and I couldn’t stop staring at the blood running down my face.

While I sunk to the ground, Steve leaped over me, a string of curses spilling from his lips.

“Fuck, fucking call someone! Jesus,” Steve ordered, hands shaking as he whipped around to grab towels.

I didn’t hear him, couldn’t hear him past the sound of my own blood rushing in my ears. I felt like my lungs had filled with cement and I couldn’t gulp in enough air to fill them anymore.

Steve looked at me and scrambled over to grab at my arms, “jesus, Hargrove. Fucking, get over here,” he pulled me across the floor and wrapped my hands around Cat’s arms, “squeeze tight."

His hands left bloody prints up my arms. Her blood.

“But…you..last time..she's okay, right?"

“This is worse, we need help," he squeezed my hands around her arms, "tight. Don’t let go.”

My jaw worked with words that wouldn’t find their way past my tongue as Steve released me to run out of the room.

Worse? I couldn’t imagine how there could be a better or worse to this.

“Hello? I need an ambulance,” Steve’s watery voice echoed through the house, “my friend, she slit her wrists…”

I stopped listening, my only focus the metallic tang that hung thick in the air, coating the inside of my nose until I felt nauseous.

“Cat?” I croaked, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Baby. Please, please come back, just look at me, okay? Please? Just open your eyes, Baby,” I begged, trying to keep an iron grip on her arms but wanting so desperately to shake her until she woke up.

Steve came hurrying back into the bathroom, a red mark smeared across his cheek where he’d wiped at his face, “they’ll be here soon.”

He crowded beside me and grabbed at Cat’s face, leaving a matching smear, “hey, come on. Wake up, we’re here. We got you, okay? You gotta stay with us.”

She didn’t move when Steve shook her, and she was so pale. It crossed my mind that maybe we were too late.

My eyes burned as tears spilled down my cheeks, my arms shook and my knuckles were turning stark white against the red towels.

“Steve,” I choked, “I.. I don’t, what…why..?”

Steve chewed his lip, worried at it so much I thought he’d break skin, “fuck. I don’t know, I don’t know what to do. We just gotta try to keep her from bleeding out until the ambulance gets here,” he tried to shake her again and got no response, “mother fucker! Come on, asshole! Open your fucking eyes!”

My jaw ticked as anger spiked in my chest, “don’t swear at her!"

Steve whipped his head around to glare at me through dewy eyes, “really? You think me swearing is going to make this any worse?”

“I don’t know, Steve! Is it going to make it any fucking better?” I spat.

Steve opened his mouth to start yelling at me when he heard sirens coming closer and instead stood up with a huff, “stay here.”

“The fuck else do you think I’m gunna go?” I growled under my breath as he left.

“Please,” I pleaded, barely keeping myself from sobbing, “please, Cat. You can’t..you can’t fucking leave me like this. You just need to hold on, okay? Just stay with me, please. It'll be okay, everything will be okay. Just hold on."

I didn’t have to wait long before Steve hurried back with a couple paramedics holding a stretcher. They crowded into the bathroom, one man gently moving me out of the way to grab at Cat, fingers moving everywhere to test for a pulse and lift her eyelids.

Steve and I could only hear snippets of what they were saying to each other.

“Unconscious…non responsive….we’re gonna need an IV…I’ve got a heartbeat, barely."

They moved to lift her onto the stretcher and hurried back out to the ambulance with Steve and I following behind.

"Is she okay?" I asked, following behind.

They didn't answer, just hurried to load her into the ambulance. One of the men climbed into the back with her and went to close the door but was stopped by me grabbing the door.

"Sir, I need you to let go."

"I'm coming," I said, trying to climb into the ambulance.

He held up a hand, stopping me, “I’m sorry, immediate family only in the ambulance. You guys will have to follow us, call her parents.”

I looked at the man’s stupid freckled face, his stupid kind eyes and had to stop myself from tackling the man to the ground.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Do you see parents? We’re all she has! We have to go with her! I need to know she’s okay!” I shouted.

“Sir! You need to calm down,” the man replied sternly, “can’t let you in. Rules."

Steve grabbed my bicep and pulled gently, “Billy, let them go. They need to go,” he urged.

I tensed, my face going stony and backed away from the ambulance doors as Steve pulled at me with a shaking hand.

Steve was shaking violently as the ambulance drove away, sirens blaring. He never let go of my arm, he held tight like he thought I might bolt or he might collapse if he were to let go.

When the ambulance was out of sight, I turned and pulled my keys out of my pocket, “let’s go.”

Steve shook his head, “no, I need to, we gotta..we can’t leave that mess.”

I glared at him, I didn’t want to have to face that again, but followed Steve inside anyway. I followed Steve back to the bathroom where he dutifully handed me a couple towels and started filling the tub with hot water. We started wiping up the blood silently, neither of us ready to break the silence as we turned the bath water red from rinsing out the towels. It was eery, seeing the outline of where Cat had been slumped on the floor, clean and empty against the pool of dark red. I stuck my hand in the middle of the clean spot and felt my chin begin to waver. It was too much, seeing the blood pooled on the floor and sprayed up onto the cabinet, the smeared hand print on the edge of the tub next to shining metal.

“Steve,” I choked out.

He looked up at me with big, glassy eyes, there was a steady stream running down his cheeks that he hadn’t bothered to wipe away. With a huff I threw down the towel I had been cleaning with and stalked out of the house into the front yard. I fumbled to pull a cigarette out of my jacket and light it, my hands shaking and leaving red prints everywhere. Steve didn’t follow me, I was by myself with the weight of the world on my chest.

What am I gunna do if she…?

If she’s gone…forever?

I smoked through my last three cigarettes quickly, relishing in the acrid burn of my lungs until I went to grab another and found my pack empty. I screamed out a curse and threw the empty carton across the lawn and collapsed to the ground, holding my head in my hands and sobbing violently.

I should’ve fucking been here, she shouldn’t have been alone.

I knew, deep down, that she wasn't getting better. I had just been stupid enough to hope. To hope that she'd turn a corner, that her mom would be here to make sure she was okay.

But she wasn’t here, nobody was. And Cat was alone.

And that's my fault.

I sat there, wallowing in my anger and despair until my chest stopped heaving and my breath started to come normally again.

Briefly, I wondered if she left a note, something explaining why I wasn’t enough. Why we weren't enough to keep her alive.

I set my jaw, wiped at my cheeks and slowly got back to my feet to go back inside. I could hear Steve’s heart wrenching sobs as soon as I walked inside and followed them to find him curled up on the floor in Cat’s room, his head buried in his bloody knees. I gently knelt down next to him, twisting my fingers together in my lap.

“Don’t got any cigarettes to offer you,” I muttered, my voice scratchy and rough.

Steve sniffed and took a shuddering breath, “she didn’t call or anything...I tried s-so fucking hard.”

“I know,” I placed a hand on his back gently, “I know you did. We did all we could, Steve.”

“We should go..” he whispered.

“Yeah, okay,” I agreed, standing back up and extending a hand to him.

He puffed out another long breath before taking my hand to pull himself off the floor. Before I could think, Steve had collapsed into my shoulder, his arms gripping at my back in a crushing embrace as he choked out another sob.

“I should have been here, we shouldn’t have left her alone. This is my fucking fault,” he cried.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders firmly and grit my teeth before trying to talk past the knot in my throat, “Steve. Come on, it’s not your fault.”

@charmed-asylum

#billy hargrove #stranger things #fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #billy hargrove fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #billy hargrove fanfic #fanfiction

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victoriareyloficlists · 4 years ago

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31/12/2020 Additions to Reylo Fluff

These fics have been added to the Fluff list located here.

Five Days by AttackoftheDarkCurses (AO3 2019 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: When Rey spends winter break at her friend's apartment, it only takes five days for everything to change.) And a Partridge in a Pear Tree by hearts_0f_kyber (rw_eaden) (AO3 2020 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey has been getting presents on her desk every day of December. They're wonderful, thoughtful little gifts but there's only one problem: she has no idea who they're from.) I don't want a lot for Christmas by Rebeccaseal (AO3 2020 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: In which Rey helps Ben find presents for his mother and somehow ends up going to Christmas dinner with him as his fake girlfriend. Or at least, it's fake at first.) father christmas. by pyroallerdyce (AO3 2020 Rated G Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben's the local mall's Santa Claus this year. Zorii dares Rey to go sit on his knee.) christmas cookies. by pyroallerdyce (AO3 2020 Rated G Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben's trying to perfect a Christmas cookie recipe for his bakery to sell, Rey is trying to get people to agree to come to a charity event, and when Ben gets locked out of his apartment, Rey helps him get back inside, and Ben invites her in to try a cookie. Turns out Rey loves his bakery.) Look No Further Sequel: Change of Plans by thewayofthetrashcompactor (BriarLily) (AO3 2019 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: After making it through Thanksgiving with his family, Rey and Kylo start to wonder if there might be more to this fake dating thing after all.) If I Was A Raindrop (Would You Be My Thunderstorm) by itsnotillegal (AO3 2020 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey has the hots for her coworker/friend Ben and decides to finally do something about it and send him a valentines card. While at the shop choosing a card, she bumps into Ben and is too embarrassed to confess the card is for him and lies about the intended recipient. Ben is in love with Rey and gutted the card is not for him!) Insufferable by castles_and_crowns (AO3 2018 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey Niima and Ben Solo are both student ambassadors at their university. This means that, unfortunately for Rey, they often get stuck with each other at various university events. Rey finds Ben Solo to be an insufferable snob until he begins to slowly prove to be otherwise.) Get Rekt by Thelittlescrimshaw (AO3 2016 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: He was drunk, they all were, but slinging an arm around her shoulders and declaring Rey his wife was not how she imagined the first party of the semester going.) the water smells like you by shruggyben (AO3 2020 Rated G Complete, One-Shot, Harry Potter AU, Quick Synopsis: In which Ben Solo, Ravenclaw dumbass, brews the perfect batch of the strongest love potion in the wizarding world, but accidentally feeds it to his one (1) crush. Adorable panic ensues.) Trip to the cinema: How bad can it be? by StaticTeeth (AO3 2016 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: A college AU with Rey, Ben, Poe and Finn. Poe and Finn being Ben and Rey's besties and they set Ben and Rey up together.) Bullet Pound by jeeno2 (AO3 2018 Rated E Complete, 4 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: On a whim, Rey watches a porno her friend recommended. To her surprise, she recognizes one of the actors.) It's A Pretty Good Bad Idea, Me and You by Mugglelover27 (AO3 2020 Rated M Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey had a great date the other night. Unfortunately, that date was with her professor.) Baby Shark by Melusine11 (AO3 2020 Rated G Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben Solo, kindergarten teacher extraordinaire can handle a lot. Fights over who is the leader in line for the day, crying over not getting the right color crayon they want, puke after gym time, but the one thing that consistently raises his blood pressure is one damnable song.) Yes, Daddy by bellestar (AO3 2020 Rated M Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: An AU where actor Ben is on the red carpet and photographer Rey can’t get him to look at her so she shouts “YES DADDY” to get his attention and it *works*. He turns around to look at her, smiles, and she gets the perfect shot.) The Life You Always Dreamt Of by KyloTrashForever (AO3 2018 Rated E Complete, One-Shot, Victorian AU, Quick Synopsis: In 19th century London, Rey is a poor street rat desperate for someone to see her as something more. Little does she know that the mysterious and powerful Skywalker heir has set his sights on on her to become his wife, and will do everything in that power to make her his.) Employee Engagement by Celia_and (AO3 2020 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: The HR survey that Rey takes actually seems more like a list of first date questions. Ben Solo works in HR. Coincidence? ...Maybe.) keep calm and let HR handle it by hi_raeth (AO3 2019 Rated T Complete, 6 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey managed to go a full year without ever directly interacting with her new CEO, but now it seems like he’s dropping by her office every single week.) The Peanut Problem by JJJJ12 (AO3 2019 Rated E Complete, 2 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben has never understood why all of Rey’s friends call her Peanut. When he learns it’s because she inadvertently attracts not-so-well endowed men, he makes it his mission to not-so-subtly convey the size of his dick without whipping it out.) Fool Me Once by KyloTrashForever (AO3 2019 Rated E Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: In which Rey is the only one who knows it’s actually a date.) Something About November Chapter 5 by SpaceWaffleHouseTM (AO3 2019 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: For a minute a day, Ben is able to see through his soulmate’s eyes. He has no other way of communicating with her, or finding her.) Game On! (aka Deflowering Doctor Jackass) by Crysania (AO3 2018 Rated E Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: When Rey is stranded at her bookshop in the middle of an upstate NY snowstorm with a local professor she knows only as "Doctor Jackass", she decides the best way to pass the time is to play a game. And that, of course, leads to other activities.) Blindsided by KyloTrashForever (AO3 2019 Rated E Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: In which Ben’s anonymous sex isn’t that anonymous after all.) coarse and rough and irritating by frak-all (or_ryn) (AO3 2019 Rated E Complete, 3 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: The first time Ben sees Rey in a bikini, his oafish left hand just sort of spasms around a brand new tube of Neutrogena SPF 100+ face sunscreen, squeezing hard enough that nearly half of its thick white contents erupts—coating his palm, the mirror, and the floor—in one great big mortifying spurt. It’s a metaphor from the universe even he can’t ignore.) Java Empire And The Rebel Café by fairytalesandfolklore (AO3 2019 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: A Reylo Coffeeshop AU. Rey works for the Solo's coffeeshop and finds out their son has gone to work for the competing corporate chain. She tries to get him to reconcile with his parents but a misunderstanding makes him push her away.) it's a date by hipgrab (merrymegtargaryen) (AO3 2018 Rated G Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: It takes Rey approximately half an hour to realize that they’re on a date.) Look No Further by thewayofthetrashcompactor (BriarLily) (AO3 2019 Rated T Complete, 9 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey is spending Thanksgiving alone but a late-night Craigslist ad ends up with her agreeing to crash some asshole's family dinner. At the very least, she's curious what kind of people name their son "Kylo Ren" anyway.) Getting Handy by andabatae (AO3 2019 Rated E Complete, 4 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben’s not sure how to flirt with the woman who performs repairs at his apartment complex, so he keeps breaking things in order to see her again. Unfortunately, Rey now thinks he has an anger management problem...)

#reylo #reylo fanfic

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benichi · 4 years ago

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I played Chou no Doku (so you don’t have to) - Mizuhito’s Route Part 3

I had planned for this to be the last part but I can’t cut everything down as much as I wanted to so the suffering shall end not just yet. Since I took such a long break I actually had to replay the latter half of the game cause my brain has rejected most of those memories to save at least a bit of the sanity I have left lol. But I promised to do this and I’m commited to see it through! I am the top Chou no Doku blog after all 😂 Also SPOILER warning. I put it under the read more last time but since it’s a thing they talk about constantly now I can’t do that anymore.

When we left off the last time Majima and Yuriko were having a ... sensual? moment in the garden with some vegetables. Apparently their... activities left her feeling invigorated.

After coming to the conclusing that that the vegetables made her feel alive (and definitely not the BJ instructions Majima gave her on a cucumber) Yuriko retreats to her room. While thinking about her brother she’s interrupted by a visitor: and who else could it be but Shiba. Mizuhito has also come to entertain said man (or rather to mark his territory) As usual the two men end up bickering like 5 year olds as Mizuhito tries to display how poor the family is doing in order to ward Shiba off. Since Yuriko tries to smooth things over at least a little bit her “brother” decides to run off to a Brothel once again.

Yuriko is irritated since he’s about to break his promise and ends up chasing him down. As I said this is like watching a bunch of children squabble.

If only it were just siblings being dramatic.

Here’s where the magic happens. Yuriko spends paragraphs explaining that her brother is still her family - even if they’re not related by blood and so on.

Can’t I just become a single old cat lady

I love how she calls him Brother in the same sentence that’s supposed to sell me that she loves him romantically.

But one choice later she’s all over him and saying stuff like “I’ve finally caught him” I mean wtf girl you promoted him from family to Lover in under a minute. So they end up huddling close together and Yuriko once again has her “mmm gotta talk about smell” moment. I think this gives us a pretty good idea what the sax scenes in the original are like lol.

Shiba eventually stumbles upon them and is obviously not happy with what he’s seeing. He parts ways with Yuriko by whispering into her ear that this Brother of hers is her biggest flaw. I mean he’s dishing out the truth, let the man talk.

I felt that.

I’m gonna puke. Cue gross moment of “Ohhh I’m a bad big brother because I want to kiss my little sister” “Noo we can’t to that Onii-chan” “Aww let’s at least try to see if we feel ~g u i l t y~” like my dude wtf. Honestly this scene was gross imo because he totally coaxed her into this and she just kind of convinces herself that kissing him is so a w e s o m e despite initially being totally against it like yikes.

WELL MAYBE CAUSE YOU LIVED AS SIBLINGS FOR Y E A R S

Voila, I told you.

Despite what one may think he doesn’t want to draw her nude yet. Since he makes such a big deal out of her being his ~innocent~ little sister Yuriko survived this encounter with her innocence still intact.

On the next day their Grandma pays them a visit to assess the current situation. Obviously the 1. solution to every problem in this game is either murder or getting hitched to someone that’s wealthy. Grandma proposes the latter.

They can’t decline her proposals immediately to avoid suspicion but to the two of them it’s clear that they want to keep their “relationship” going. Or maybe it’s not so clear because Mizuhito starts acting like a jelly 5 year old again.

Maybe it would help if you stopped calling him Brother with every breath you take.

Afterwards Yuriko models for him, but Mizuhito soon becomes distracted because he knows that even if they reject the current marriage proposals there will always be new ones incoming. He says that it will ~break him if Yuriko were to marry another Man (my dude let me tell you: you were just fine in the other routes I’ve played so far).

This shit so stupid even the game can’t take all of it.

A few days later Kyoko invites the two for dinner at her house. When Mizuhito leaves the room for a bit and after Yuriko whines about that:

Seriously why does everyone here have the mind of a child.

Kyoko takes the chance to tell Yuriko about the Geisha that her ... Brother... Lover?! what do I even call these two lol. The one her BroLover had been visiting frequently. Apparently she still posseses something that belong to Mizuhito and Kyoko wants to (find out if Yuriko and Mizuhito are facking) figure out how to relay this information to him. Obviously Yuriko with her 5 year old mind doesn’t want her lover visiting the Geisha so she asks Kyoko to keep it a secret.

On the way home we are subjected to another make out scene because Mizuhito got h*rny from Yuriko’s gaze. This scene is more “intense” to tell us that the frick frack is coming up soon but not quite yet.

If I took a shot every time she says Brother or Family then maybe I wouldn’t have to suffer like this.

I don’t know about you but I certainly don’t exchange gentle kisses with my older Brother.

After calming his raging... emotions Mizuhito says that they shouldn’t go too far since he thinks of Yuriko as special. Yuriko however feels “betrayed” by this like heavens forbid he didn’t rip her clothes off and bonk her in a dark dirty alleyway. How dare he.

In order to prevent Mizuhito from potentially bonking that Geisha who still has one of his “things” in a dark dirty alleyway instead Yuriko concludes that sending someone else to visit the Brothel is a great idea. She decides to ask Majima, her first love in case you forgot, and goes to visit him. When Mizuhito questions where she’s going in the middle of the night she comes up with the most convincing excuse ever:

Marvelous.

We’ll leave things here for now. So how will Yuriko’s first love react to this odd request? And how does this clusterfuck of a story end? You’ll find out in the (this time for real) final next part!

(The last part will definitely be up before Thursday cause I’ll be focused on Collar x Malice Unlimited then)

#chou no doku #choudoku #mizuhito #ripple effect stories #otome game

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hockeytrashgoblin · 4 years ago

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Ice Cold ~Part 11

A/N: For once in a story I’m writing, I’m not going to be writing any actual smut. Wild I know. I’m just not feeling like it’s very important for this one. Hope you guys understand and if you want that kind of thing I have many other stories and one shots that you might enjoy. But in the meantime enjoy this also lol

Ps: This one is pretty cute AND COMPLETELY F I C T I O N NONE OF THIS IS REAL AND I’M NOT SAYING IT IS.

I ended up deciding to move in with Will and Kasperi. It had been a really wonderful three months in the apartment. I felt safer and working so close to where I lived now was so handy. There had been a few nights where Amy slept over because it would be more convenient for work. I loved that I could do that. They were very clear that what was theirs was mine even though I couldn't pay a lot for rent. The boys were going to be home from a road trip any minute and I was so excited. I still hated the road trips a lot. Never got used to being alone in this place.

I heard William's loud happy laugh from down the hall. I opened the door and ran down the hall to him. He smiled wide as I got to him and jumped into his arms. I kissed his face all over with smiley kisses.

"Happy to see me?"

"Pfft no." I replied kissing his lips once before jumping down.

"Yeah everyone really believes that." Kasperi said rolling his eyes, holding up his phone.

"Hi Kappy." I gave him a big hug around his waist and smiled up at him.

"Hi you little shit."

"I made some cookies for you guys!"

"That is so sweet of you love, let's go inside."

We went in and I followed William to the bedroom. He was unpacking his bags with his back to me. I went up and smacked his ass before hugging him from behind. He laughed loud, and heartily. He grabbed onto my forearm and twisted so he could face me. He held my face and kissed me hard.

"You're so funny. I love you."

"Love you." I kissed him again until we heard a throat clearing.

"Hey, I'm gonna um.. go for a walk." Kasperi said awkwardly.

"Dude if you need to feed just say so. I can tell you know. Your eyes kinda give it away."

"Oh shit true. How bad are they?"

"They're pretty much all red."

"I'm sorry (y/n)."

"Kasperi. Stop. You don't have to act human all the time. I know what and how you guys are. I'm not scared of you."

"We just don't want to make you uncomfortable, love." William said, playing with my hair.

"I'm not though. I want you guys to be comfortable as yourselves with me around. I'm going to be around for a long time and I don't know when I'll be like you. I don't want you guys to hold yourselves back until then."

"Don't talk like that."

"Alright well then I'm going to the woods around Mo's. I should be back by morning, I might spend the night."

"Alright bye Kas."

"Bye!" I called out as the door closed.

I was quiet after he left as I left the room heading for the living room. I was feeling really upset that William shut me down all the time when I said I was going to be like them. I just kept thinking about it. I couldn't help it, it was a little crushing.

"What's the matter?" He asked softly, coming to sit beside me on the couch.

"What?"

"Your eyebrows are creased and your jaw is tight. On top of that your heart is beating harder, like you're mad."

"Do you not want to be with me for a long time?"

"What? That's crazy talking. Are you serious right now my love?"

"Yes. Every time anyone mentions me turning and being around for a long time you get mad. Do you not want me around for a long time?"

"Baby of course I want you around for a long time. I want you around forever. You're going to be with me forever. I'm sorry if I ever made you doubt that." He held me face and brought me in for a really short but incredibly intense kiss. "I love you and can't wait to spend forever with you."

"Then why do you get so upset when I talk about it?"

"I've seen how awful it is to be changed with Mitch. He couldn't stomach the blood, he just kept puking so because Auston wasn't controlled enough to bite and inject the venom without drinking his blood and Morgan had to do it. It was really painful for Mitch. He was in so much pain for a couple of days. I keep thinking about him and I'm so afraid that you're going to have a bad experience like he did and regret everything."

"William I love you more than you could ever know. If I have to be in pain for a few days to spend my whole extended life with you I will. Gladly."

"You're perfect." He kissed me again but Mitch busted through the door. "Way to knock Mitchell."

"This is important, hide me."

"Mitchy what's wrong?" I asked, trying to calm him down.

"(Y/n) I need to talk to you in private. Will please stop Auston and take him somewhere else."

"Mitch-"

"I don't have time for questions William! Please! Just do this for me right now and I'll explain later. Please!" He was exasperated, running his hands through his hair and pulling on it.

"Willy obviously this is important. Please just take Auston out and we can relax together when they're good, okay?"

"Okay." He said with a frustrated sigh.

"See you later." I gave him a kiss and he ran out of the apartment.

"Mitchy what's happening?"

"I don't want to say anything yet. Can I just get a hug?"

"Of course you can honey, come here." I opened my arms and he fell into them crying. "Oh Mitch."

"It's okay, I'm just really flustered right now. I don't know what to do."

"Is everything okay?"

"No. How was your day?"

"It was boring. I really missed you guys."

"I know it sucked that we got split up on two flights. I don't even know how that happens. Fucking stupid. They're lucky we didn't have a game this afternoon."

"It was probably because of the snow storm. A lot of planes were grounded. What time did you guys get in?"

"Half of us got in last night around 4am."

"Gross that's such a shitty time."

"Like yeah it is but Auston drove so I slept the whole drive home."

"Poor sleepy Auston."

"He's good."

"Are you ready to talk yet?"

"Yeah they should be far enough away to not hear me."

"What happened Mitch?"

"I thought a lot about what you said. About Steph and stuff. I broke up with her this morning."

"Oh man. I'm sorry Mitchy, that's never easy."

"She was devastated. She thought I was cheating, then she thought I was gay, then she thought I was just scared to get serious, then she thought I was trying to ruin her 10 year plan..she was big on those. Before 10 years she wanted to be married with at least one child. I couldn't do that hurting for Auston the way I was. It was all a big mess."

"That sounds awful."

"It lasted for literally 3 hours. It was a three hour breakup where she kept me trapped in the house."

"God that's awful. Do you want something to drink?"

"Alcohol. Strongest you've got, I beg you." I went to the kitchen and came back with a white coconut lime flavoured wine and two glasses. He downed his first glass like it was nothing.

"This stuff is strong, you might want to pace yourself."

"After the day I've had, I don't care."

"So what happened after she stopped freaking out?"

"I had brought her stuff back from my place, she threw it everywhere and broke stuff. I didn't have much at her place but she threw all that stuff too. Only broke one thing though and luckily it wasn't that important."

"That's insane."

"It legit was the worse case scenario."

We kept drinking as he explained what happened with Stephanie. I was shocked. I understood heartbreak but I didn't understand psychotic meltdown. The more he explained it, the less sense she made and the drunker we got. I was only tipsy but Mitch was getting pretty drunk. He was laying on the floor with his feet up on the couch still.

"So wait how did that turn into you running away from Aus?"

"Oh shit right! So basically I came home upset, as you can imagine. Auston wasn't home until a couple hours later. I was in bed sad and he came in. He asked me what was wrong and I told him what happened. He tried to cheer me up but it wasn't working so he volunteered to bring me here to talk to you, see if you could help I guess."

"That makes sense so far."

"So we're walking and suddenly out of fucking nowhere he unblocks his thoughts!"

"Oh for fuck sakes." I said face palming.

"I was so surprised that I could hear him again I didn't even realize what he was thinking. His mind's voice was screaming at me though. Yelling for me to pay attention so I did and God it was intense. It was so much and I was so overwhelmed."

"Oh jeez."

"Oh jeez is right! Like it was every thought he's had about me was right there."

"That is a lot. I can't even imagine that."

"I thought he didn't even like me but he loves me (y/n), he really does. He's not grossed out that I'm a guy, he's not worried about me being young or annoying..he's not ashamed of me. He loves me."

"I know honey, I figured it out when I was talking to him like a month ago. I told him to unblock his thoughts."

"You told him to do this?!"

"I suggested it because it might be easier for him than working up the nerve to talk about it. I meant for him to do once he was out of that cell not after you broke up with your girlfriend."

"I don't care. I want to know. I'm so happy that I know. I love him so much. I can't believe I just took off."

"Do you want me to get them back?"

"Yes I need to see him. I need to talk."

"Okay I text William and he said they'll be here in a couple minutes."

"I can't wait. I'm gonna kiss him as soon as I see him." He said smiling and kicking his legs a little. I laughed at how cute he was. We were quiet for a little while, I didn't know if he wanted to talk anymore or not. After a minute I spoke up again though. I couldn't keep my mouth shut if I tried.

"You doin okay down there?"

"Yeah I'm just thinking."

"About what?"

"Auston."

"What about him?"

"I just hope I didn't ruin everything."

"You didn't." Auston and I said at the same time. I whipped around making William snort, I hadn't heard them come in.

"Aus, I'm sorry for running." Mitch said getting up. He stumbled a bit but ran over to him pulling his head down to smash their lips together in a sloppy kiss. "I'm sorry I was just really overwhelmed."

"Don't be sorry. I was a little shit to do that to you after today. I'm sorry, Mouse." He said into Mitch's hair as he held him close.

"It's okay. It's okay. Can we talk more about this tomorrow? I don't want to be drunk for it."

"Of course we can. I'll give you all the time you need."

"Can you take me home? I wanna go back home."

"Absolutely. We can do whatever you want." He kissed Mitch's head and pulled away holding his hand.

"Sorry that we interrupted your guy's night." Mitch said swaying into Auston. "And drank all your wine."

"It's okay Mitchy, no harm done."

Mitch gave me a big hug and to my surprise Auston gave me a hug too. It wasn't like the one Mitch gave, it was only a one arm thing but I was still surprised.

"Thank you for everything." He whispered to me before they left. We waved goodbye as they left the apartment and shut the door behind themselves. William wrapped his hands around my waist and pulled me close to him.

"You did that babygirl. That happiness? You help them find it. You're incredible."

"I just wanted them to be happy. Auston was having a really hard time, Mitchy was really upset. I didn't like it."

"You're so lovely."

"Will stop." I said blushing.

"No. You're the sweetest girl I've ever met in my life." He lifted me up and I squealed, wrapping my limbs around him.

"I am so in love with you."

"And I with you." He smiled the prettiest smile I had ever seen in my life and I couldn't help but smile back. He sat me on the kitchen counter which was a surprise because I didn't know we were moving at all, so wrapped up in the beauty of him.

"You guys can do normal pictures right?"

"Love you literally take pictures of me for a living." He teased kissing my nose.

"Yeah but that's with a professional camera I was just wondering with phones and stu- okay. Stop laughing at me you ass." I hit his shoulder angry.

"Baby how can I not? You should know the answer."

"Maybe I'm drunker than previously thought."

"Yeah those cheeks are awfully rosy. Get into the wine did we?"

"Don't pinch my cheeks! I'm not a child." I smacked his hand.

"Oou a violent drunk." He teased again, grabbing my wrists and pinning them beside my head on the cupboards. I whimpered lightly. "You okay?"

"Um yes."

"Why are you making those little sounds?" He asked breathing against my neck while running his bottom lip against it. I shivered and he chuckled. "Use your words baby."

"I um..I like this. A lot. Too much probably."

"Yeah? You're into giving up control?"

"Y-yeah.. I like it a lot."

"We can play around with these kinds of things later on if you want? I'd like to explore the things you like."

"I want to do that too with you." I tried to kiss him but he pulled back biting the smirk on his lips. "Kiss me right now."

"Ah, ah, ah baby. Be patient."

"I caaaan't."

"Fine, I'll let it slide this time you big baby."

"Your baby."

"Yes darling, my baby." He let my hands go to grip my hips.

"Please?"

He didn't answer, just pressed his lips to mine in a fevered kiss. It was really intense and my head was spinning. He ran his tongue across my bottom lip and I opened my mouth slightly to meet his tongue. I wrapped my hands into his hair and pulled him closer to me. We were making out pretty heavily until the door opened and Kappy walked in.

"Oh shit, sorry! I uh decided to come back. Mo and Tessa were fighting. Forget I was here." He said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"It's fine Kas." William said stepping away from me.

"Your ugly face kinda ruined the mood anyway."

"Excuse me?! My ugly face? Have you seen my face? I'm gorgeous."

"Sure Kappy if you say so." I shrugged.

"I'm going to bed, I've had enough drunk (y/n) nonsense."

"I'm not that drunk!"

"Whatever." He called closing his door.

"I'm sorry that we got interrupted princess."

"It's okay Will. I wasn't kidding though, he did ruin the mood."

"I'm glad he did."

"Why?"

"I wouldn't have been able to stop and I have plans for us next weekend. Special plans."

"Just us?"

"Yeah. A little vacation just you and me."

"What are these plans?"

"I've rented a cabin for the weekend. I have a game Friday night but the plan is to leave that night after the game to go up north to Bracebridge. We stay all day Saturday and Sunday. We leave Sunday night after dinner to come back for work Monday."

"I love that! You're not gonna try to make me ski or something are you?" I asked suspiciously, eyeing him up.

"You ski? Absolutely not darling. I'm not even going to risk that. No we're probably going to be inside for the most part. Aside from those winter walks through the woods you like so much."

"Can we try to feed birds?!" I asked getting excited.

"You can try. I don't think I'll have much success."

"How come?"

"Animals don't usually like vampires much. There's always exceptions but most don't want anything to do with us."

"Fair enough I suppose. But! You can stay super still so maybe birds will want something to do with you!"

"We shall see baby, we shall see."

"I'm so excited to go spend time just us. It sounds romantic!"

"It will be."

#nhl imagine #nhl story #hockey #hockey story #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #toronto maple leafs #maple leafs #maple leaf imagine #maple leaf #william nylander #william nylander x reader #mitch marner #kasperi kapanen #morgan rielly #auston matthews #halloween #vampire

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make-it-mavis · 4 years ago

Text

Homesick (Entry #14)

(cw: drug withdrawal, vomiting) <-Previous ----------

01/02/88 1:34 PM

Hey.

Can’t believe I’m still going to all the effort of writing this dramatic, emotional crap down while you’re not even here to be uncomfortable about it with me. This is so unnatural. But I keep coming back to it, so…

Showering felt good. I wasn’t too happy about smelling like Fix-it’s bath products, but clearing away the grime was therapeutic in its own small way, especially since my skin was smooth and intact again. No dirt, no blood, no wounds, no outward evidence that anything had happened to me at all.

The feeling of cleanliness was tragically short-lived, however. I’d barely finished drying off before my skin clammed up and my body felt wrapped up in a hot, wet blanket. Boost withdrawal had snuck up on me, hiding behind other, much bigger stressors. Fix-it would soon regret lending me his disturbingly comfortable, silky, immaculately free-of-his-cousin’s-sweat pajamas.

I was in for a long night.

When I left the bathroom, I found Fix-it sitting on the couch next to a folded-up blanket and some pillows, looking thoughtful or troubled or something inexplicably annoying. He straightened up the second he saw me, and gave a wobbly sort of smile. “Did it do ya good to get clean?” he asked, painfully awkwardly.

I just grimaced, waist-deep in withdrawal, not loving the irony in his question.

I sat next to him, leaned my head back, and put a cold, wet hand towel that I’d nicked from the bathroom over my face. It relaxed me a bit, but relaxing wasn’t much of an improvement. My idle mind had no safe path to wander, no distraction other than my climbing fever. So I resorted to focusing on that, and let myself sink like a rock into that post-Boost depression. I needed a hit so badly. I just imagined that sweet electric rush dissolving the withdrawal, blowing away the fog over my senses, charging me back up with fierce courage so I could get back out there and face the arcade. Thinking about a remedy only made me feel sicker, but I didn’t care. More sickness meant more distractions from… other things.

I was in for a really long night.

It wasn’t until Fix-it said “Mavy..?” that I realized he had been talking. Silently asking the Devs why he was still trying to have a conversation with me, I replied with a grunt.

Assumedly repeating himself, he said carefully, “I just wanted to say thank you… You know, for… trusting me.”

I figured he was kind of putting words in my mouth, but whatever. I was willingly staying in his home, so he wasn’t completely wrong. But I knew he really meant trusting him with… well, everything written on my body. To that, I did not know what to say. I lifted the corner of the cloth on my face to peer at him. He was giving me those earnest eyes again, the ones that his binary may as well tumble out of. I could almost feel the bags under my eyes getting heavier. It felt like anything I could have said would only have made me worse off.

After a sufficiently weird pause, I figured out what to say.

“Do you have a bucket?”

“...Beg pardon?”

“So I don’t puke on your floor.”

“Oh!”

He sprung up like a popcorn kernel, disappeared for a second, and returned with a gross-looking utility bucket, probably the only dirty thing I’d seen in his apartment thus far. It had definitely been used for paint at some point, of all things. Then, seemingly trying to top his personal best record for stupid questions, he asked if I was nauseous. I didn’t dignify it with a response. After that, he just insisted on brewing me some tea that I can’t remember the name of, because it would, as he put it, soothe my “tummy” and help me sleep.

I told him that if he said “tummy” again, I might miss the bucket.

While the tea steeped, we had some minor disagreements about the sleeping arrangement. He wanted to take the couch while I slept in his bed, but I was having none of that. The final verdict was that he’d take the bed, I’d take the couch, and if I somehow needed something that I couldn’t get myself, I could wake him up.

The tea was counterproductive. When I went to drink it, the mug didn’t even make it to my lips. I took one whiff of the scent -- not a bad one, but a scent nonetheless -- and my stomach lurched. I retched into the bucket not a moment later. Fix-it sprung up and practically started whining like an anxious dog. At the same time, though, he looked like he was fighting the urge to sympathy vomit. We had agreed on lights out just a moment ago, but he insisted that he must stay up with me for just a little while longer.

I groaned into the bucket in my lap, “To do what, read me a bedtime story?”

“...Well--”

“No.”

He gave up after that. At long last, he turned in for the night. He got me a glass of water, turned off the lights, and pretended to close the door behind him when he went into his room -- he left it cracked, for some reason I’d no doubt disagree with.

Once the lights were off, it really stood out to me just how wrong it felt spending the night inside Niceland again, after all these years. It was obscenely quiet, the only thing close to white noise being Wreck-it’s distant snoring. The windows didn’t need any blackout shutters like they would in your game, what with our game’s permanent night setting, but the cold, dim light from the cabinet’s screen around the corner was just enough to cast faint window-shaped squares on the floor. For most, it all probably would have been ideal for sleeping. But for me, it was too rigid. Too manufactured, sterile, too clean-cut. I needed mess. I needed a raw, wild, pass-out-drunk mess. Old pilled blankets, misshapen cushions, stained pillows, creaky springs in a mattress way too small for two sprites. If nothing else, I needed the stars. But you can’t see them from the windows of Niceland.

I thought of the places I wished I could be, threw up again, and began my really, really long night.

Most of the night felt like some kind of time loop, just the same awful crap for Devs know how many hours. Throwing up, washing out the bucket, sipping water, refilling water, refreshing the cold towel, burning up, shivering, throwing the blanket, bundling up in the blanket, throwing up again. Startling flashes of memory still kept me from drifting off, but it wasn’t just the fireworks anymore. There was also barking. There was that freak’s grating, screeching abuse. There was the garbled, distorted sound of metal splitting. Worst of all, the feeling of fading into sleep almost felt like fading into near-death again, kicking up that terrified, tooth-and-claw refusal to die. In those cases, I’d wake up screaming.

Freaked the hell out of Fix-it every time.

Something else happened that night. I have no idea what time it was. There was nothing left in me to throw up anymore. My teeth were chattering, but my sweat had still soaked well into the couch. I’d tossed away the warm and damp pillows in favor of resting my burning cheek against the cool cushion beneath. I was just trying desperately to creep past the obstacles between me and anything resembling rest. That’s when things got a little… let’s say “creative.”

I tried to fool myself into thinking I was somewhere more conducive to a good night’s sleep, and it worked. If I really thought about it, I could smell chips, popcorn, and Burger Time grease in the cushion under my head. I could make the upholstery feel frayed and slack. In my feverish delirium, I could even change the room around me. I could picture the walls pulled closer, and an impressive amount of junk for such a small space, all of which I knew by heart. There would be a stereo across from me, a kitchen counter down past my feet, half-full soda cans close to my head, empty six-pack rings hanging on the door handle, a jumpsuit thrown over the corner of the couch, and above me, a rack of meticulously polished trophies. As long as I kept my eyes closed, I was in your trailer.

For those fleeting moments, everything felt normal again. It was as if nothing ever changed.

I heard your bed creak, and your footsteps shortly after. You paused close to me for a second before continuing into the kitchen. Jars rattled when you opened the fridge, a cupboard creaked as you looked for a glass that was actually clean, and I heard you pour something -- could only have been soda, in the middle of the night, you spectacular trainwreck. Then you crossed back to me, set your glass on a surface that shouldn’t have been there, and stopped moving. You just went quiet. So much that I thought you must have been plotting a way to mess with me in my sleep. I welcomed it, too. I couldn’t wait to catch you in the act and tackle you to the floor.

Then I heard, soft as a mouse, “Mavy?”

The illusion dissipated the moment Fix-it spoke. Reality struck again, landing a critical hit on that miserable withdrawal depression. It wasn’t you. It was just Fix-it, who had apparently come to get me a new glass of water. Part of me wanted to spring up and deck him, but I stayed perfectly still and silent. I didn’t want to encourage him to keep talking to me. In all honesty, I felt too heavy and lifeless to do anything at all.

“Mavy?” he said again. “Are you awake?”

Another stupid question. I just imagined that he wasn’t there, in hopes that it would come true. But, much to my regret, I heard him sit on the coffee table again. I could feel him looking at me. He was silent long enough for me to think that he had come out just to watch me sleep, like an absolute creepazoid. But just as I was bucking up the moxie to tell him to buzz off, he spoke again.

“Mavy… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, or-- or tried to pressure you, or…”

The first of many long pauses.

“...I never should have doubted you. You’re worth so… so much more than anyone gives you credit for, and… I’ve known that since day one. Somewhere in this mayhem, I… just... lost sight of that. I know you won’t listen to how sorry I am… but I promise you, Mavy, it won’t happen again. Families support each other… and… this little family of two is all we’ve got. And I know…”

A long pause.

“...I know that you don’t… want a family. But, darn it, Mavy, you need a family, now more than ever. It… It hurts so much watching all this happen to someone I care about. I’m trying so hard to help you, but I just…”

Another pause, exceptionally long this time. For a minute, I wondered if he had left without me noticing, but sure enough, he spoke again. This time, his voice trembled. He’d started crying.

“I… don’t know… how to be the family you need. It... seems like everything I try just… pushes you away even more. I’m not asking you to forgive me, even after all these years, I just… I wish… I wish we could just talk about it. I wish we could just start over and… be better.”

He sniffed, and fell silent again for a minute. When he spoke again, his voice was even quieter.

“You know, for all the trouble you two got into, I… I just loved seeing how happy he made you. I may not know how to be what you need, but… sure seemed like he did. No one else could make you laugh quite like him. ...I miss that laugh.”

Pause.

Then, by some miracle, I managed not to jump when he squeezed my hand. It was disgusting. He wasn’t wearing his gloves, so it was full skin-on-skin contact, and my hand was slimy with sweat, and for the Devs’ sake, Fix-it, I was asleep, as far as he knew. What kind of creep touches someone while they’re sleeping? Yeah, it was just my hand, but it’s the principle of the matter. I did not consent to that contact, and I would not have, even if he asked me. The whole idea of it pissed me off so much.

It didn’t make sense to me, then, why I didn’t pull away.

Maybe I was paralyzed with subconscious rage. Maybe I was too sick and depressed to move. Maybe I really, really didn’t want him to know I’d heard all that. Or, maybe pulling away would have conveyed a message that I didn’t want to send, one I didn’t think he fully deserved at the time.

Probably the rage.

Whatever my reason, he held my hand long enough to test me. Not even my gross, soggy palms deterred him. The binary in my hand was starting to really ache by the time he went on.

“You don’t deserve a broken heart, Mavy. I wish I could do more. I wish I could just… wave my hammer and bring him back for you. I’m so--... I’m so sorry I can’t give you that. There are some things I just… can’t fix.”

I heard him take a deep, slow breath, and it sounded like he rubbed his face with his free hand. For another few moments, I felt him watching me.

“Dream of something nice for me,” he finally muttered, and gave my hand one final squeeze before letting go. He stood, and, despite the fact that I was burning up, draped the blanket over my shoulders like some sappy cliché. Then he went the whole nine yards.

“Love you, cuz. Hope you know that.”

With that, he left me be. I waited until I heard his door creak and his duvet rustle to throw the blanket off and wipe my hand all over the couch. There was barely any mind power left in me to process what had just happened, but I suppose I ought to have thanked him for it -- it took my mind off of the things keeping me awake, and I eventually fell asleep, lost in uncomfortable thought.

I wasn’t angry, really, or even annoyed. I didn’t want to run away or chew him out. I just took bets with myself over how much longer it would be ‘til he realized he was wasting his time on me.

#fanfiction #fanfic #wreck it ralph #fix it felix #make it mavis #turbo #original character #homesick

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thoughts-n-paper · 4 years ago

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Ranidaphobia

She was unable to move, terror-struck, as she stared at its eyes and at the same time, tried so terribly to avoid it. She could feel the raindrops sliding down its smooth skin as if they were crawling down her neck. She stood still as its throat expanded and in response, her lungs contracted as it produced that awful loud sound. Horrified in anticipation, she closed her eyes shut. When she opened them after a while, she was back in her purple walled bedroom, away from the dense forest she was standing in a few seconds ago, safe from any devil that might have been about to jump her. Ever since she started working on the new project, she had been having this nightmare every night, but right now was not the time to get to the bottom of this development. A glance at the clock and she jumped out of the bed and rushed to the bathroom. She always kept at least half an hour aside for her pre-shower rituals and another hour for after. It wasn't a lot of steps, rather more about spending enough time for each step. She had twenty types of cleansers and scrubbers and at least thirty different lip scrubbers, a part of her face she was the most conscious about. From a young age, she had been very careful about her skin, she did not just want good skin, she wanted a clean skin, even if it meant being late for work. As soon as she sat on her desk, Simon jumped on her, "You're late. Missed the morning meeting. And Alex wants to see you. ASAP. "He said smugly.

"Thank you, Simon." He never liked her, probably because he wanted the membership she was awarded. Alex was not a great mentor or even the best person to work under, but he knew how to woo the clients and sell the bare minimum for the maximum cost. The recent project bagged by him, incidentally by chatting up with the marketing head at a bar, was a children's toy brand trying to venture into children's snacks.

"Hi Alex. Sorry about this morning. I was just not feeling well."

"Oh, don't bother about it. The package design is finalized, this is the mascot they want."

He said passing her a sheet of paper without looking, it always looked like he had rehearsed it, placed the paper at precise steps, a file in his hands that is just a prop and then as soon as she took the sheet to examine, he walked up to stand behind her and placed his hand on her shoulder.

“I am counting on you. You do a good job on this and your position might not be so temporary. ”She looked up to him and smiled.

This was his M.O. Being in his team, your only job is to refine the lines around his vague ideas and designs so he can later present it as his own and collect all the praise from the clients. It is demeaning, you do not grow intellectually, but it is a great way to make contacts in the high places and if the apprentice is quick enough, might catch some skills of the trade. She only looked at Alex’s sample after coming back to her table and the blood stopped flowing in her veins. She was petrified. She could suddenly feel her breakfast wanting to escape her body and she rushed to the bathroom.

She had been staring at the blank white paper for the past two hours. The sheet with the prototype was turned around, but the eyes on that hideous creature still haunted her. She has had a particular hatred towards frogs since her childhood, so much that she could not even bear to look at the rough caricature of one that Alex drew.

It sort of started when she was ten, this hatred and disgust. It had rained heavily the day before and while walking home she was cornered by a few of the older girls that were just hanging around in a nearby park. It started as basic entertainment for them, pointing out faults in her face, ridiculing her hair and clothes, she was used to that. But then one of the girls noticed a big croaking frog and decided it would be fun to play a fairy tale. She remembers running home that day, all the way trying to rub out the slime from her lips and face, struggling to hold her bag because her hands were too dirty to hold anything. She did not even dare to wipe the tears off her face. And the girls were running behind her shouting that she was so ugly, the prince would rather stay as a frog.

She pushed the memory deep down, took a long breath and then the sheet of paper in her hand. It was a simple cartoon of a frog in a top hat and dinner jacket, a very generic idea of an animal caricature and now it was her job to make it remarkable. That night she scrubbed her lips for an extra fifteen minutes to remove the smell of the puke, still, it kept waking her up every two hours.

The next day was just an extension to her ongoing nightmare, she threw up thrice that day and spent most of her day washing up. On the way home, at her wit's end, she decided to buy an extra-strong chemical peel mask for her lips.

It was the third day since this horrendous task had entered her life, she was tired from not sleeping, circles around her eyes and extremely chapped lips. It was also the day of submission of the first draft. She sat on her desk, took a look at her drawings and rushed to the toilet. The new peel did help this time, for she finally sat down with satisfaction. She had tried to back down from this project, although it would have been career suicide, she just couldn't go through with this one.

"No." That's all Alex said before returning to his lunch.

She asked again.

"No." And that was it.

After lunch, she stepped into Alex's office and handed him the designs. He took it from her and then strangely started staring at her. "You have got a bit of your lunch on your face, better clean it up next time you face someone. It's very off-putting. "She immediately turned around mortified and rushed out of the cabin. She took it and smelt it, and suddenly that wretched smell was back. She made a mental note to buy some more masks. And then she made another note to buy some anti-nausea tablets when she saw the review mail from Alex.

Two weeks in and she was still struggling. The scrubbing and peeling which started from her lips had now extended to her hands and face. The constant rubbing of sanitizer didn't help either. Her skin was dry and peeling off, she hadn't slept at all because every time she closed her eyes, there would be a frog in top hat smiling at her. And then there was all the puking, the color of which had now turned from yellow to red. There would be instances where frogs would start jumping up on her table or would sometimes emerge from the papers scattered and start dancing in front of her, but blinking strongly and rapidly would make them disappear one by one.

She was playing a game every day, get spooked and you lose, and she wasn't going to lose, not after she fought so hard to be in Alex's good books.

She stared at her falling face in the mirror and reached for the moisturizer, she took a little bit and placed little droplets randomly on her face and was immediately disgusted by it. It had become a ritual of sorts, wake up form a superficial sleep, struggling to face her reflection and barely able to touch her skin, she would still be driven to peel off every hanging skin scrape. Well hopefully it would all end soon, it was the day they present the final draft to the client and if all goes well, she will never be forced to look at a frog again.

“You look awful. Jesus, at least put some lipstick on.” She could see the repulsion in Alex’s eyes as soon as she walked in. Which was not too different from what she saw in the mirror herself. But, two hours of sitting in a room filled with pictures of different cartoon frogs, shutting her teeth so that the vomit doesn’t feel invited to burst out and tying her hands with an invisible metal wire so she doesn’t start to scratch the itch she had been feeling on her lips, she made it through the ordeal. They shook hands, smiled and headed off to a celebratory dinner. It was a group of five from the client’s side and then three people from their team excluding Alex. She may have had the worst months of her life but she had a feeling it was going to be worth it.

They all sat around a round table and were just waiting for dinner when one of the brand representatives stood up to make a toast.

“We would like to thank all of you. We had tried a lot of different agencies, even rolled in a few bad ones into production, but we think that our friend here has got what we need. So, we would like to offer you your next endeavor, our new drink.” And he pulled out a plastic bottle in the shape of the ugliest frog. “Now, I know the packaging is rubbish, which is why we need you. But, I ensure you the drink itself is delicious.” She thought she couldn’t move when he pulled out the bottle but she only realized how much easier it would have been to move before than when he started pouring the drinks. Everyone was expected to take one glass in their hands and drink to the toast. And Alex’s expressions weren’t subtle when she refused to pick one up.

“Just one last time,” She thought to herself. “One last time.”

They had five different toasts, all from the same alarmingly grinning frog-shaped plastic waste, and she drank each one of them repeating to herself those three words. She was only able to excuse herself once everyone started digging in their respective dinners. She rushed to one of the sinks while clutching to her bag. Ever since she started on the drawing, she had always kept all her supplies in her handbag. She pulled out her toothbrush and immediately started cleaning her tongue, simultaneously trying to make herself throw up. It didn't help, although she did manage to throw up, when she opened her eyes to look down, all she could see was little slimy snail-like creatures but without the shell, floating in the yellow and red fluid. She quickly opened up the sink tap and started cleaning it with the liquid soap they had on the side. She took a little bit in her palms and drank it to rinse her mouth, when she spat, two of those creatures fell from her mouth. She did it again with just water and this time more fell out. She repeated this for a while, each time hoping for a different result, so the next time she took a pump of the soap and rinsed her mouth with it, this time one came out. She rinsed her mouth with water the next time and a few spat out, so she used soap again. Now she started feeling something in her stomach, something which was moving around, shifting her organs, collecting them in a basket, so she decided to lie down on the floor and close her eyes.

She was looking up at one of those big tanks that they have in factories, then she was climbing the staircase beside it, trying to peek what was inside and once she reached on the top, she could see a thousand frogs shrieking and drowning in an orange liquid. She bent down and took a deep sip from it. As soon as she opened her eyes, she had to throw up again. This time they were alive, moving around, trying to reach back to her. As if her insides were their well, their home and her blood was the only thing that nurtured them. She stared at the bottle of the liquid soap, in the sink and back at the bottle. She finally reached for it.

Her body was found by a waitress who was sent in for check-in by one of her colleagues. There was white foam around her mouth and yellow puke in every basin. The waitress quit her job the next day.

#ranidae #ranidaphobia #frogs #fear of frogs #phobia #fearfrogs #germophobia #clean freak #shortstory #originalshort #fictionshortstory #storyofphobia #story of phobia

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imaginesmai · 5 years ago

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First time being a dad (MODERN AU)

Bjorn

- He really thought something was wrong with your daughter the first time he saw her.

- Is she supposed to be this small? Where is her hair?

- It’s kind of funny seeing the big scary man holding such a small thing.

- Uses his two hands to hold her and keeps her an arm length away from him. Someone might think this happens the first times only.

- No.

- Bjorn keeps holding her that way until he can’t hold her anymore, because his daughter has a strange fixation with his hair.

- And beard. Or clothes, anything that she can grab.

- She’s surprisingly strong for a baby, and has managed to end up with some of her father’s hair on her little fists.

- Once she discovers that throwing things at the middle of his legs make him go down, she likes it. Thinks her daddy is going to bend down to pick her up.

- It becomes a routine.

- Everytime she gets a toy, she throws it at her father’s balls so that he bends.

- Bjorn tried to talk to her once. Tried to make her see that it was not right. As soon as he bent down and pointed an angry finger at her, she bit it.

- He got up screaming with his daughter gripping his wrist and chewing on his finger.

- Yeah, his brothers where there when he ran through the house with his daughter hanging from his hand. Laugh at him because he’s terrified of his daughter from that moment.

- Distant dad.

- He doesn’t want to be near her the beginning.

- But you don’t choose dad life. Dad life chooses you.

- She chases him around the house, laughing as he tries to get away.

- Begs for your help but you enjoy the show too much.

- Finally, he stops in front of you, with a bitch face as your daughter climbs him like a tree.

- He tries, he really tries to not fall in love with her.

- But she’s a daddy girl and his heart melt when she laughs at him.

- Or when she smiles when she sees him.

- Or when she claps excitedly when he shouts at someone .

- Or when she makes grabby hands at him.

- Basically, his heart melts more and more the older she gets.

- The first day of school he gives her the talk.

- “Do not trust anyone. Do not let them take things from you. If they do, you’re allowed to do them everything you can’t do at home.”

- “Bjorn!”

- “In the balls, Y/D/N, kick them in the balls.”

Ubbe

- Don’t touch her. Don’t look at her. Don’t think about her. Don’t breath near her

- Since moment one, he falls in love with your little girl.

- Even if in the machine you can only see a thing that shakes, he loves her already. Even if when she’s born she’s not exactly…beautiful, just a bundle of cries and blood, he fucking loves her.

- Ubbe is the kind of father who ADORES his daughter; so much that sometimes it worries you.

- “Have you seen this little feet? Who has the cutest little feet, hm? You have! Yeah? You, you have the cutest little feet!”

- Not just in the privacy of your house, but also in the streets.

- If your daughter burp in the middle of a meeting, he’ll go over where she’s playing and talk to her in a very high-pitched voice.

- “What was that? whaT WAs ThAT cuTE NOisE?”

- He has lost a few friends.

- Also, pictures. Tons of pictures.

- Ubbe has two phones full of pictures of his daughter, and only god knows how many memory cards in his desk.

- Pictures of her eating. Smiling or laughing. Sleeping. Playing.

- Drooling.

- For him, every picture is a good one. He shows them to everyone one, and honestly has his brothers grossed out (might have show them one of her popping).

- And videos.

- While you were pregnant, he was a reporter. Has videos of everything you did, half of them only focusing on your belly with shaky hands as he keeps babbling in excitement.

- Has videos of your daughter sleeping; one-hour video where your daughter just sleeps and breaths.

- Has videos that no one should see. Most of them in the bathroom

- Taking about, he’s not afraid of doing the dirty work.

- Ubbe Lothbrok is a man who takes care of his precious adorable fantastic can’t do nothing wrong daughter.

- Whatever it takes.

- He has changed her diaper and, just when he was putting it to the trash, she had peed all over him. That’s fine, because it’s his precious adorable fantastic can’t do nothing wrong daughter.

- He has cradled her until she has burped, even when she has puked all over his shirt. That’s fine, because it’s his precious adorable fantastic can’t do nothing wrong daughter.

- He has stayed awake the whole night because her teeth was growing and has let her pull at his hair until tears fill his eyes. That’s fine, because it’s his precious adorable fantastic can’t do nothing wrong daughter.

- He has FIGHT school moms because they said his precious adorable fantastic can’t do nothing wrong had thrown sand at other children. She could bit someone head off and, still, Ubbe wouldn’t believe it had been her.

- However, he has joined a little group of mothers that meet every Saturday in the park and bring healthy snacks while the children play.

- You are dragged to that madness and have to endure him gossiping with his new “friends” as he sits cross-legged between baby toys, pacifiers and little blankets. He gigGLES.

- The most important thing about him: once he gets to know parenthood, he can’t stop. He needs more children. BEGS for more children.

- You’re most likely to end with an army of little spoiled princess and princes whose photos and videos fill your house.

- Your perfect little (enormous) family.

Hvitserk

- Having a baby with Hvitserk means having two.

- Expect the silly videos from the Internet where he plays stupid games with his son.

- Recreates star wars, the hobbit. Duck faces.

- He totally turns into his son. Acts like him, plays with him, cries with him, feeds from his “mommy” after him; that’s a serious kink.

- When it comes to taking care of the baby, not everything is so funny.

- Hvitserk will be playing with him in the ground when suddenly your son stays still and a disgusting smell comes out of him.

- The motherfucker smiles because he knows what he has done. He fucking laughs.

- And looks at his father with those bright and puppy eyes that Hvitserk uses to claim innocence.

- Because he eats as much as his father, and you have had to stop Hvitserk from feeding him with actual food, usually the changing diaper time is a feared one in your house.

- In that moment, the laughs he was sharing with his son stops. He tries to get up and leave.

- His son’s eyes follow every slow and quiet step he gives.

- One step at a time, backwards so that his son doesn’t notice he’s leaving. The little child stop playing with his toys and frowns toward his father.

- And Hvitserk prays to the Gods that he keeps quiet.

- No. He doesn’t.

- Bad part about spending all the time with his son is that, as soon as he’s out of sight, he starts crying.

- Your sarcastic form appear in the door. Where are you going, Hvitserk.

- “I heard my brothers calling me” “Remembered I had a meeting” “Need to take a piss.” “What was that? I better go and check it?”

- Nah, you know his excuses too well. It’s time for diaper changing.

- He ends up going to where you’re waiting with your naked son in his arms, both of them crying and wet.

- However, Hvitserk surprises everyone with how good he’s with trolleys, child’s bags and holding his son.

- When the news of your pregnancy arrived to his brothers and family, they got really worried.

- Hvitserk was like a kid, his sense of responsibility was low and a child with him was a madness, right?

- If you forget about those two times where he had forgotten his son in the supermarket and that one where he bought home another baby, he surprised everyone.

- Trolleys, as said before, are his speciality.

- Mothers at the kindergarten envy him. While they spend minutes trying to get their children inside the trolley, Hvitserk can do it in a second.

- Along with the lollipop that is always hanging from his mouth, his son becomes a part of his daily outfit.

- Pushing the trolley. Strapped to his chest. In his arms. On his back. Top of his shoulders. Hanging from his hip or arm.

- It doesn’t matter how he carry him and how many heart attacks he gives you; your son never touches the floor.

- Besides all of that, Hvitserk is probably the perfect father. Funny, cool, loving, energetic.

- But for future references, don’t let him go to the supermarket with your son. Candies distract him and last time he forgot him in the toilet paper department.

Sigurd

- Gluten.

- If there is a word that define his parenthood, is gluten.

- Truth be told, he wasn’t really excited about having a child in the beginning. He thought that the world was waiting for him and that you were going to hold him back.

- A big fight and a break up happened, but Ubbe heard about it before he could travel away; and he bought him to your door pulling him from his ear. You fixed things and he stayed with you.

- First months were awkward, but then the baby kicked and he was lost.

- Since the moment she was born, Sigurd was ready to clean the floor she step with his own tongue.

- And that’s what started the madness.

- He saw Hvitserk trying to feed his baby with a burger. He was putting the thing in front of her and, even if she was trying to push back, he kept showing it to her.

- Bear dad kick Hvitserk and out and, that night, he reads about what could have happened.

- Gluten. His worst nightmare has gotten a name.

- Type of father that spends ten minutes reading the label of the food before buying it.

- Meanwhile his daughter has probably licked every surface that is it her reach, but what she eats becomes first.

- Everything has to be homemade. If his daughter is going to a playdate, she’ll bring her own lunchbox with fruits because Y/N, who knOWS WhaT tHOSe NASTy mothERS MIGht giVE To thEIR CHildrEN.

- Doesn’t trust anyone with his daughter.

- Maybe Ubbe if he has talked with him for an hour about how he has to do things (his brother has five children and, as Sigurd tell him what he need to take care of his baby, he’s balancing two babies on his arms while he feeds another one).

- If you two go on a date, which sometimes it’s needed, he leaves at least twenty notes around the house for Ubbe.

- Because he won’t let any other brother near his baby.

- For the first year you can’t go anywhere without Sigurd worrying about her and calling Ubbe every five minutes. You had to go back to your house after an hour with tears in Sigurd’s eyes.

- It became easier with the years, but for him it’s still hard.

- That lead to have a dependent daughter. Really dependent daughter.

- If her daddy isn’t around, she cries. If her daddy doesn’t put her to bed and reads her that book about vegetables, she cries. If her daddy hasn’t look at her in an hour, she sobs.

- Sigurd doesn’t mind, his daughter and him have turned into one person.

- That leads to the little girl being a little Sigurd.

- Those rare times when he’s not around, the only thing that can calm her is his lute.

- When it comes to her food, she has learned to turn her head to anything that has gluten or that isn’t healthy.

- No one knows how, but when Hvitserk managed to sneak around and offer her a burger when she was two, she threw it to his face and screamed for his father.

- Her favourite food is apples. And you have to fight Sigurd about turning her into a vegetarian.

- He’s a good dad. Maybe a little obsessed with food but he tries to give her the best.

- The best toys, shaped as vegetables. The best books, about healthy foods. The best education, about the risk of eating fats.

- Sigurd wants the best for her.

Ivar

- Much like Sigurd, Ivar didn’t want to keep the child. Deep down he was worried and scared, but he only showed anger.

- This time, it was his mother who shouted at him until he was back at your apartment and promised to stay with you.

- Which turned out to be the best thing in his life.

- You had twins. A girl and a boy. And Ivar was quiet.

- The first time he saw them, he stood in his place for ten minutes, looking at the two little things while they linked their hands and faced each other.

- His silence was broken when your little boy looked up to his father and emitted a strange noise. And then, Ivar cried.

- Ivar Lothbrok cried when your twins were bought to your house and he saw them for the first time in your huge couch.

- If you ask him, he would say it’s not true. But he kept babbling at you about how big the couch seemed around their little bodies.

- Ivar Lothbrok cried when his daughter cried and cried one night and didn’t stop until his daddy held her.

- She closed her little hand around Ivar’s shirt and curled into his chest, smiling. Since that moment, she always calmed when she was around his father’s heat.

- Ivar Lothbrok cried at his son’s first word, dada. He had been eating; trying to, as he didn’t want to eat the mashed peas. In a second, he stretched his little arms towards Ivar and said “dada”.

- And Ivar cried with a smile while his son threw the peas to his face.

- His children are his precious things, and if you look at them for more than a second you might get a punch to your nose.

- It doesn’t matter if it’s in the supermarket or in the doctor clinic; Ivar will start a fight with whoever stares at his children.

- Once, you were in the supermarket and you daughter started crying because she got scared by a loud noise. You couldn’t make her stop, and an older woman glared at you and your daughter for a few seconds before she mumbled something

- The poor security man had to drag Ivar away as he kept threatening the woman, who by then was nearly having a heart attack.

- Once, you were in the doctor with your little boy, who was really sick. He was peacefully sleeping in your chest when he puked all over himself and you. While some nurses helped you and your crying son, Ivar heard another father beside him talking shit about you and your son.

- Let’s just say, everyone is glad that you were already in the hospital.

- The most dangerous thing is when your children are sleeping and someone wakes them up.

- Hvitserk used to walk into your house with a loud bang and a scream; after being left unconscious by Ivar’s crutches, he now calls before going to your house.

- Or when someone makes them cry.

- That’s-That’s bad. Really bad.

- Ivar’s ears perk up at any sound similar to his children’s cries, and you better not be around them when it happened. Sigurd was once, tried to make your daughter eat his vegetables.

- Ivar almost stuck his vegetables in his ass.

- First day of school was hard for everyone; once again, Ivar Lothbrok cried.

- Keeps walking in circles around the school for hours, until it’s time to pick them up. Has found a little spot where he can watch his children in the playground without being seen.

- You were there, and thank God. Because when another kid pushed your son to the ground he was ready to jump over the fence and kill that kid.

- But your daughter is pretty similar to her father, and handled it. Kicked the kid in the face and made him ran away from her brother.

- A small, cute and aggressive family, that’s what you get in the end.

- You love and take care of each other.

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caroline18mars · 5 years ago

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A Man On Fire - Chapter 64

Harper had just sat down when the roomservice trolley was rolled into the room, Jared closed the door and put the tray on the coffee table, handing her a steaming cup of coffee “Latte just the way you like it, lots of caramel”. He had taken off his dinner jacket and pulled open the bow tie, undoing the top buttons of his shirt in one go, even though she knew he was tired he still looked amazing, Jared couldn't keep his eyes off the stunning beauty in the middle of a blood red, puffed up million layers tulle skirt that slowly sipped her piping hot coffee. “A white Christmas, it's been a while since I've seen one” a light topic was the perfect starter for a long conversation that hopefully lasted all night long, “really? I can't imagine a christmas in the sun, it's just not the same..I don't think I could live in LA, I like the change of the seasons, not every day has to be filled with sunshine and heat for me, and LA is just a bit too artificial..that being said, thanks for the lift and the temporary roof over my head” she quickly added, maybe she was being a little too harsh. “You're welcome, you would have frozen to death if I let you walk home by yourself, and I'll admit that I thought about walking you home but then I was pretty sure you would've not invited me up to your apartment and you would gladly let me die on the street” the sarcasm in his voice was real, so was her discomfort. “I miss you, Harper” he immediately changed the subject, he was done with the small talk and the verbal venomous stings, “I'm right here” she tried to laugh it off, why though? It wasn't funny, not funny at all. “You're never gonna forgive me, are you?” he put his cup down and leaned back staring at her, right now he didn't care how uncomfortable he made her feel “Jared..don't..” she stammered and nervously started shuffling in her seat, it was all so sudden, she couldn't prepare for this and it was doing her head in. He grabbed her wrist to get her attention, he was done with her trying to avoid eyecontact “don't what? Don't apologize? Don't tell you I'm actually kicking myself every hour of every day for what I did? Don't tell you I'm struggling without you? Don't..you miss me?”. Harper stared at his hand that was tightly clasped around her wrist and yanked it free, “I miss the Jared that didn't betray me, if there ever was such a Jared..I miss..” he watched her choke up, “what? What else do you miss?” did he care if he was maybe pushing things? No, because everything between them was fucked up anyway, if anything this was their ultimate chance to get all the frustrations out of their system. “I miss us” now there was something he hadn't expected, let her talk, “I miss trusting you, I miss being the other part of your brain, the other part of your heart” she blurted it out, it was true and she needed to get it off her chest. “You still are, Coco..the reason I'm so..fucked up is because that's exactly what you are, you are my other half” he breathed.

”I miss..” she hesitated for a second, was she blushing? “I miss sex” his heart skipped a beat hearing how open she was, “so do I..I miss 'our' sex” he locked eyes with her, “that's what I mean..we were good at it, weren't we?” she did hide the rest of her blush behind her cup “I never thought anything or anyone could ever come between that..I was so bloody naïve thinking that no matter what happened, we could argue, we could have the biggest fight ever, but I kept believing that our bodies would always find their way to each other”. Her words hit him like a ton of bricks “I had the impression you thought the same way but then booze and dope blew all my hopes to smithereens”. Jared swallowed hard “it was a stupid mistake, I don't want to minimize what happened but I'm here and we can prove to each other that we still have and will always have that sexual magic, there's a bed there right there, there's us right here..” it was merely a suggestion but she just shook her head. “It's that easy for you, isn't it?” she kept sipping her coffee “and please I don't need anymore apologies, if you tell me one more time how sorry you are, I think I will puke” she put down her cup again with a sigh, if it only were that simple..how many times a day did she dream that this right here would happen? they would talk, it would all come down to misunderstandings, he would just sweep her off her feet again and she would no longer suffer or be alone? Roughly around a 100 times or so and now that the moment was here she completely backed down because there were no misunderstandings, everything he had done was completely real and horrific enough. “I don't want to minimize what I've done..apologies are all I can offer, I have no extended explanation for it, I made the biggest mistake of my life and I'll do whatever it takes to get you back so a guy can merely try” there was so much dissapointment in his voice. “Do you think you can ever forgive me?” his question made her shuffle in her seat again, “that's an impossible question, Jared..I'm a faithful puppy, if I'm in a relationship I don't even look at anyone else, sober or drunk I don't fuck around” she frowned at him “I just have a line that I'll never cross, call it morals or whatever you like..so I just don't know if I can ever trust you again, and what's the point of a relationship if there's no trust, I'm not gonna spend my time constantly looking over my shoulder, getting paranoid..nope, not gonna happen, Charles was kind enough to give me a chance so I'm gonna put everything I have on my career, something I should have been doing months ago instead of losing myself in this bubble of lies and deceit while galavanting around Europe”. That was the minute he knew that it was over between them, there was nothing more he could do, she just dealt the final blow to their relationship “so you'll put everything on your career and on that guy you danced with all night, what's his name again, Nathan or something?”. Don't do this Jared, it's not fair, your feelings are hurt, be a man about it come on, “I might..I might not..either way, I don't think it's any of your business, and can you stop selling me short here, I really don't need a man in my life to be happy or succesful” stay calm Harper, don't give him the satisfaction.

Fuck! Just the thought of her and that smooth hipster together made his stomach churn, of course she was gonna go out with him, he had played the game for long enough to know that this was retaliation pure and simple. “So..plans for today and tomorrow? Guess you'll be flying back to LA tomorr..or better today, it's christmas already” Harper saw that he was dwelling on her words, he sat there staring at her without actually seeing her. “Have you seen the weather? I don't think there's a plane that will leave from JFK the coming days” he got up, he just couldn't take it anymore seeing that beauty sit here in front of him and there was no way he could touch her anymore. “Want some more coffee?” he poured himself another cup and walked towards the window to give himself a little more space to breathe, “no, I won't be able to sleep, too much alcohol and coffee tonight already, so what about your birthday?” Harper stared at his back, god you look so damn fine in those tux pants and that white shirt, I think I've never dated a more fine and exquisite male. Just reconsider and work it out together, you've never been more in love than with him, watching him turn with that genuine sad look on his face broke her heart “we'll just have to postpone it I guess”. He wasn't the man to sulk so it obviously cut deep for him “you can always celebrate with your friends here in NY, I remember you saying you have so many of them here” she tried, “I just don't feel like celebrating this year” he sipped his coffee, oh Harper don't you ever feel lonely in a crowd? Like when you go out with your friends and you only want to be with just that one person?. “If you want, we can go do something for your birthday? I mean you don't have to and I know it won't be as much fun as you planned on having in LA with all your friends..just think about it alright?” she softly said. “I don't have to think about it Harper, I gladly accept..why are you so kind to me?” his heart jumped in joy, the situation wasn't completely lost just yet, “because I still..care about you Jared, you've been the biggest part of my life so far despite all that you've done, so please don't see this is anything more than friendship, ok? This is just because we're snowed in, you could do with some company and so could I, nothing more, nothing less”

A few short bleeps had both their heads turning in the direction of her phone, it was 5AM, who was texting her at this time of night? “Booty call?” he got up, he couldn't deal with this, the light of her screen illuminated her little smile “says the man who's speaking from experience”. Stop rubbing it in Harper, “not funny, Harper! Anyone who gets a text in the middle of the night knows that the topic is not gonna be the weather, or the stock exchange” he huffed as he started unbuttoning his shirt and let if fall on the floor. For the second time tonight, his body was getting her all hot and bothered, had he gained some muscle? Definitely! She quickly put the phone down again, somehow it didn't interest her right now, “was I right?” he came walking up to her, why was her mouth so dry? “uhm, no you weren't, it's just Nathan checking if I got home alright and if I have plans for Christmas”. Jared kept smiling at her “and do you?..have plans for later on today?” little did she know that he was secretly holding his breath, “I don't know..I was hoping to get some work done, but with all this snow I'll see where the day takes me”. Diplomatic answer, being raised in a diplomate's family sure paid off, “but first let's see where the night or what's left of it takes me, is that another bedroom?” she pointed at one of the doors. “Uhm no..there's only 1 bed I'm afraid” he was done with the chivalrous act, he wasn't gonna sleep on the couch and neither was she, “Oh” there was that cute little nosescrunch again “I'll take the couch then” she sighed. “No you're not, and neither am I, you said it yourself, we're friends and friends can sleep in the same bed, so I'm not taking any drama about that” he rummaged through his suitcase and threw her one of his band T-shirts and pajama pants “here, put these on, bathroom's right there..there should be a toothbrush and everything you need” thank god she didn't protest. “Uhm Jay..” her calling him that again sent a shiver down his spine “could you..?” she turned her back to him, “oh..yeah sure” he walked up to her and ever so slowly he pulled down the zipper, revealing her beautiful skin inch by inch made his breath hitch in his throat. Feeling his fingers brush against her skin had her blood pumping, don't turn around so he doesn't see you blushing “thanks” she stepped away from him and beelined it to the bathroom. Calm down, relax..it's only natural that you're still physically attracted to him even if you don't want to..she put her hands on the marble counter and hung her head to stop her head from spinning. Text Nathan back, he'll take your mind off things, distraction was really crucial right now to stop her from falling again for the man who had ripped her heart out and chopped it in a million little pieces. Slowly she stepped out of her dress and let it pool around her feet, the pajama pants were way oversized so she stropped the cords together as much as she could, his signature scent wafted in her nose as soon as she pulled the t-shirt over her head. He turned on his side to hide the evidence of arousal seeing her walk back in the room brushing her long, long hair “when I first met you, I remember thinking you had the most beautiful long brown hair I had ever seen”. Harper stopped brushing “says the man with the most envied hair by all women and men this side of the hemisphere” and sat down on the bed with her back turned to him, if she kept looking at how he laid there, casually turned to her on his side with every muscle in his arm and chest outlined, she would get herself into a lot of trouble with these raging hormones.

#jared leto #jared leto fanfic #jared leto fanfiction #fanfic #fic #fanfiction #a man on fire #chapter 64 #30 Seconds To Mars #30 seconds to mars fanfic #Harper and Jared #Harper Coco #caroline18mars

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glitradora · 6 years ago

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Here's an AU idea! AU where Castaspella defected instead of Shadow Weaver; and Catra grew up in Brightmoon and Glimmer grew up a Horde Soldier with Adora

send me an AU and i’ll tell you my headcanons for it (2/15)

au masterlist

((I’m so sorry this took so long to do))

((AGES: Castaspella - 15; Micah - 24; Angella - 25; Glimmer - 8 months))

The problem is not that Castaspella has always been in her brother’s shadow.

Micah the promised wizard

Micah who would end the war

Micah who married Princess Angella - immortal daughter of Brightmoon

(whose immortality didn’t even impress Cas that much honestly- she was only a year older than Micah. Apparently, you get called immortal from the get-go. Cas really thought they should at least wait so see if she would live past a normal human.)

((Then again maybe the immortal daughter of Brightmoon was just a fancy title - she looked the type. A special princess and a special wizard. What a perfect couple. It made her want to puke.))

The problem wasn’t even that she was said to be to young to partake in the actual fighting - with all her 15 years of age she was more than ready to show some Horde scum what she was made off

The real problem was that there was no actual way for her to ever beat Micah or for her to learn fighting

All of Mystacor was involved in the fighting by now - all but the students.

Students with no teacher - sounded like bullshit.

She was a glorified babysitter to a bunch of snotty kids who could barely levitate a feather in a windy day.

Even Light Spinner, the best wizard in history, her brother’s teacher and Cas personal idol hadn’t been to Mystacor in months. So much so Cas had managed to break into her room and grab her books with no one even noticing.

It was like being invisible.

And since she was going to live with that whether she wanted to or not she was gonna make the most of it.

So she studied alone

Practiced the spells in the books Light Spinner kept

Read and reread her notes until they made sense

Until she could repeat them in her sleep

Until she was better than Micah.

At some point - after a particularly bad attack on Brightmoon Micah left his newborn daughter with her in Mystacor.

“The safest place on Etheria - and the best apprentice on Mystacor”

Cas thought he was full of shit. But Glimmer, her niece, was perhaps the sweetest baby that ever existed. So she agreed.

From then on everything she did she did with Glimmer - on her lap, hanging from her back or when she got the hang of it, levitating by her side giggling.

She was the greatest company Cas could ask for.

Soon she realized just how powerful Glimmer was. The teleportations started with Glimmer being distraught and crying. Cas had probably taken to long to wake up and go check on her because just as she was getting up from bed an armful of baby was in her lap clinging to her.

It was - an experience to get around

Soon Cas started trying to predict Glimmer’s teleportations. Then trying to make her power stronger.

That is until Micah and Angella found out.

It was a whole thing - from she’s to young to Cas didn’t know what she was doing.

they took all the books.

And worst of all they took Glimmer with them.

And she was alone again

She had to get busy so she started studying the war and horde. If she learned enough maybe Micah would let her at least attend meetings in a year.

So she could get away from these walls.

But it seemed no matter what she did Micah and Angella were still to mad. Just saw a stupid little girl who they didn’t have time for.

The anger and solitude grew inside her, rotting and festering.

By no she no longer remember what was the breaking point - only that one night after a particularly nasty fight with her brother she read about the Horde’s possession of the Black Garnet again. And her mind was made

She quickly packed her things - she would slip out before anyone noticed and make her way there. There was no one on this side she would miss.

Or at least that’s what she told herself - but as she found herself in the woods she knew that wasn’t true.

Glimmer’s face kept haunting her dreams. She had to take her with her.

Breaking into Brightmoon was hard but she was a good enough sorcerer by then

In the room slept two girl - her niece with the fluffy pink her like cotton candy and who would grow up to be her biggest ally. Catra. The youngest heir to the Magicats.

Once she was far away from the castle Cas let her self rest for a second. She could make it to the Frightzone by morning. And then it was a fresh start for her and Glimmer.

19 years later - Fright Zone

Glimmer and Adora did everything together as far back as they could both remember.

Adora’s first steps are recorded in a photograph with glimmer’s teleportation shimmers just starting to show up behind her - the next photo has both girls flat on the floor giggling.

In whatever class they would train until they were both equally good at it - spending sometimes twice as long as their teammates perfecting every move.

With Castaspella - glimmer’s aunt - as the keeper of the black garnet they were all the only two students allowed to have a try at magic.

Glimmer was a natural

Adora once burned half of her hair off and has been trying to grow out her bangs since.

Cas still always has a smile for both girls - her girls.

She would never want either of them to feel as she did in childhood - second best. So Adora isn’t great at spells - but her emotional magic is amazing and it’s hard for people not to fall immediately in love with the blonde.

And Glimmer is perhaps as powerful as her father was.

She’s sure Angella still blames her for his death- she tried to stop him but Micah never seemed to listen to his little sister. Much less after the change of side.

But Glimmer grew a happy child despite this - knowing full well her place in Etheria. And wishing to one day take Brightmoon and it’s throne for herself.

19 years later - Brightmoon

Catra grew up with a missing piece in her life.

From the moment she could understand anything she knew what had been stolen from her and from her adoptive Brightmoon - and she was determined to have it back.

A princess in blood in her own right she was supposed to form a bond with the Princess Heir of Brightmoon, protect her and advise her. Be her second shadow.

But Princess Glimmer had been stolen from her crib as an infant by the wicked Horde.

And so Catra grew up alone. Wandering the cold walls of the castle. Studying and learning how to fight so she could someday defend Brightmoon and - were she lucky - Glimmer.

The only moments she had contact with other people were at dinner - Queen Angella, her godmother, and Light Spinner, her teacher.

They ate in silence for the most part - a few questions here and there between courses.

Other than that she spoke to Light Spinner in classes and once a month had an afternoon with Queen Angella learning about the war.

Which is a very long way to explain why she was currently climbing down a rope out of her window.

You see the past couple of years Catra had been sneaking out to go the village. Laugh and talk with the kids her age- play a few games in the fair nights or have a drink in the pub.

It’s where she met her best friend - Bow. The best archer in town. The two couldn’t be more different from each other. But they both refused to talk about their past - so they got along. Learned to respect the parts of each other the other kept hidden and cherish the ones they brought to the light.

All was great really - until one-day Catra wanted to explore more of the woods.

She had always look out to them from her room. The room that would have been Glimmers.

Plus Bow had grown up in those woods- knew them better than the back of his hand. What problem could they fun into?

The answer to that? Horde Soldiers.

Two of them too - because her night couldn’t get better.

One of them seemed really focused on this cool sword on the floor and the other was looking around and complaining they should go back. But it was dark and Catra couldn’t quite see either of them.

That is until the sword started to glow - illuminating the blonde girl first and them making Glimmer’s hair shimmer. Pink and purple with glittering like ground up diamonds.

“It’s her” She whispered to Bow who was currently passing through the five stages of grief and mumbling how he should have never have agreed to come here.

“Bow it’s her” she repeated her eyes and smile widening. “Wh-” before he could finish Catra was moving into the clearing

“Princess Glimmer I’ve found you - I’m here to bring you home”

“Who the fuck-”

“Glimmer move”

Before Catra could respond the other- about her hight but instead of skinny she was lean but all muscle - was swinging the sword at her. She jumped back just in time and Bow seemed to get the memo and jumped from the trees.

And at that Catra was focused “Horde Soldier - that’s first one’s tec. Release it. And let the princess go.”

“Who are you calling a princess freak?” Glimmer started to pull out a green electric thing but just as she made to move she was tied up with one of Bow’s rope arrows

Catra gasped “Bow!”

“She was going to kill us!”

“STILL CAN!”

“She’s your princess!”

“Hey, Kitty Kat” The other one was back - seemingly angrier with he developments swinging the sword wildly at Catra.

“Bow protect the princess!”

“Who’s protecting me from her?!” Bow asked his voice cracking slightly as he tried to take Glimmer’s taser from her.

Catra’s not sure how it happens. But after a while Glimmer and the Horde Soldier (who they learned is called Adora) are tied up.

Catra and Bow are just both kinda lying on the floor catching up on their breath for now.

But then Catra sits up exited “Bow can you believe - Queen Angella is going to be so happy. I can’t believe I’m going to be the one to bring Princess Glimmer back”

“How do you even know it’s her?” He asked not moving from her possession.

“Oh- uhm” Right Catra never told him. “I-”

“She’s the Magicat Dimwit” Glimmer replied from her place leaning again a tree - Catra had made sure she was comfortable.

“Wait- really?” Bow asked now his own eyes wide “No way!”

“She has cat ears what do you mean you didn’t know?!” She seemed annoyed. This was not how Catra had hoped to meet her oldest friend.

Bla Bla gigantic bug

Bla Bla Glimmer teleports them to safety from the First One’s ruins.

Bla Bla Adora and Glimmer trust Catra and Bow then - (plus they need to find out what’s up with this She ra business anyways.)

So they find themselves in Brightmoon - just for a little while, they tell themselves. Just until Adora can control her powers, and in the meantime, Glimmer can learn everything about it so she can take it over when they return.

But days become weeks, and weeks become months. And her aunt is great but having a mom is quite nice too.

And Catra grows on her - with her blushing cheeks and honest smile whenever Glimmer pays her attention.

And the food is much better - which is a plus.

#she ra #spop #glitra #glimadora #glitradora #glimmer #bow #adora #catra #castaspella #shadow weaver #queen angella #micah #mine #mine: au #varkarrus #cleopcatra

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alternativewinxcontinuity · 5 years ago

Text

Bloom Peters in: The Haunted Mansion of Mirrors.

A test of courage goes wrong and Bloom finds herself in over her head when the house turns out to actually be haunted after all.

Genre: horror, mystery, AU (but in a canon divergence way) Characters: Bloom, Kiko, OC Witch, OC Wizard, Mitzi, Andy Warnings: mentions of blood, general horror elements, dangerous bike riding etiquette Word Count: 2,679

This story is in summary format.

Bloom Peters in: The Haunted Mansion of Mirrors.

In an Alternate Universe where the Trix didn't manage to waylay Stella on her way to Alfea, Bloom spends part of her summer miserable until she winds up running into her ex and his friends at a local juice bar at the same time as Mitzi.

Mizti is in the middle of telling her friends about a story she'd heard from someone who'd been working for her parents, who've decided to try their hand at house flipping. (Mitzi presents it as a 'hobby' like buying, renovating and selling houses is normal and just for funsies when you're 'as rich as her parents'.)

The story she relays is about an old manor on the edge of Gardenia which has been vacant for decades after the whole family was mysteriously murdered.

“Which is why the house is, like, super haunted.”

Bloom doesn't care for ghost stories and scoffs at the idea, but not quietly enough. Mitzi jumps at the chance to call Bloom a coward and say she wouldn't last a minute in the house before she'd run screaming for her parents.

Bloom denies the accusation and says if anyone were to run away scared, it would be Mitzi.

Before anyone else can think better of it, the group is caught up in the idea, and suddenly making plans to stay the night in the 'haunted' manor.

Bloom guiltily tells her parent she's going to a sleep over (with Selina, who's not actually back from her vacation yet, but her parents don't know that) and prepares supplies.

Not trusting Mitzi to not try something, Bloom prepares to stay awake all night long.

She packs her good flashlight, the heavy duty one she got for camping, some jerky type snacks and two bottles of water, a note book and pens for doodling (including several colours because boredom), and she makes sure her cell phone is fully charged.

Of course she takes a blanket and sleeping bag and pillow and sleep over snacks, because they're supposed to be staying all night, but she makes Kiko stay home, because taking him is sure to end badly.

(He stows away in her bag and doesn't reveal himself until she arrives at the house.)

Bloom rides her new bike, leaving super early to make it on time. Luckily she manages to cross paths with some of the other group members as they're leaving the city limits, and Bloom illegally and unsafely by hanging onto the care (with permission) and they drive the last stretch to the manor. Mitzi is already waiting for them at the gates with the rest of the group and lets Bloom and the others in.

Straight away Bloom gets some seriously bad vibes, the kind that make her skin prickle with icy needles and make her want to puke and run. When the pull up in front of the house in the spacious driveway area, Bloom almost refuses to get off her bike.

But Mitzi calls Bloom a coward who couldn't even make it into the house, and Bloom's pride gets the better of her. Andy tries to comfort Bloom, but she just can't shake the feeling of wrongness in the house.

As the group enters (Mitzi opening the house with a set of keys she didn't actually ask her parents permission to borrow,) Bloom notices some strange carvings in the wood of the houses porch, etchings that seem to buzz in Bloom's perception of the world, but Andy says he can't feel anything, so Bloom tells herself that she's just psyching herself out and tries to shrug it off, ignore the voice inside her screaming warning after warning as it waves red flags.

The group has enough time to set themselves up in the 'living room' of the manor's ground floor before the sun goes down. They're just about to start playing cards when Kiko reveals himself, in clear distress.

Bloom says she'll take Kiko outside to use the bathroom, angrily snapping at Mitzi when the later sneers that Bloom is “running away already,” since Bloom isn't running away, she's being a responsible pet owner.

Only the door at the front of the house won't open, even when Mitzi tries the keys.

Andy and friends offer to try and find an open window for Bloom to get out through so she can deal with Kiko's 'over excitement', but Bloom feels a sudden panic at the idea of splitting up.

She can't explain it, but she feels like the pressure inside the house is increasing even though no one else can sense anything, and Kiko keeps getting more stressed.

Right before the pressure peaks, Bloom sees a blood covered woman who isn't in the room in the mirror over the living room's fireplace mantle, she looks to be screaming “GET OUT” and Bloom spins to shield Kiko as the mirror explodes outwards. She ducks down to make herself as small a target as possible for the shards and tries not to hurl as the entire world feels like it's dividing itself apart.

Bloom hears the others scream, but then everything goes quiet as the pressure and dividing sensation stops.

Bloom looks up surprised, and sees a glowing sphere of energy dissipate around her, the rest of the room empty and the mirror intact.

The group's supplies are where they'd been seconds before, but there's no sign of the group itself.

In the mirror Bloom can see herself reflected, Kiko in her arms and the strange woman behind her.

Bloom freezes, scared, she realises the woman is saying something, but she can only make out two of the words:

“ ? ? Get ? Out”

Slowly Bloom turns, but the room behind her is empty, and when she turns back, so is the mirror. Scared and feeling so out of her depth Bloom gathers her things, and wishes she'd brought her baseball bat.

Kiko seems scared but far less distressed than before, so Bloom makes a choice: she needs to figure out what happened to her schoolmates (and ex boyfriend), and if some freaky blood covered lady in a mirror thinks Bloom is going to run away and leave them to whatever horrible fate she's got in store for them, then that lady is about to find out just how wrong she is!

Bloom and Kiko move further into the house, slowly going through the rooms looking for any kind of clue.

They don't find anything, except the former owners maybe had a mirror fetish, but Bloom manages to sketch out a rough map in her notebook and noticed some strange wall thicknesses.

Then through the house comes the sound of a mirror breaking, and Bloom and Kiko go to investigate.

A mirror in one of the old bedrooms had a crack that is slowly repairing itself, and on the floor, where there hadn't been earlier, lies a note.

The words are written in reverse but Bloom can figure them out easily:

In the white fire place, to the blue seashells

The house is large enough for three fireplaces, one made of white marble, one made of black, and one made of red brick, so figuring out which one the note is about is easy enough.

The duo go to investigate. It takes a little while, but Kiko hops into the fireplace itself and finds a loose plate of thick ceramic at the back, coloured to look like the marble around it.

The move the fake stone and reveal a small compartment with a little chest inside.

There's no key hole but it seems to be locked, until Bloom gets frustrated enough to say “open damn you” out loud to it, and the lid pops open.

Inside she finds a small compact mirror, an enamelled seashell, and a note written in a language she feels like she should be able to read.

Not sure what do with their discovery, the pair head upstairs to the room with the mirror that has a frame of blue seashells, certain that's what the note's second half was about. Once there Bloom quickly realises the enamelled seashell from the chest fits into an indent at the top of the mirror's frame.

Not sure how it will help, but out of ideas on how to find her friends, Bloom presses the enamelled shell into place, a spark of energy dances around her fingers and the compact mirror seems to hum. When she grabs the compact the sparkle of energy surged into it and a small blue shell appears on the compact's casing. As Bloom holds it close to the mirror, the surface distorts and Bloom realises there is now a room beyond the mirror.

Stealing themselves, Bloom and Kiko step through the mirror.

Across the next several hours, Bloom and Kiko traverse various warped versions of the manor (all accessed through different mirrors in the (different) house(s) like the blue seashell framed mirror) to find 'dolls' of Bloom's missing schoolmates. The house(s are)is riddled with various traps, almost like puzzles, but is leaving notes and clues and snippets of a story.

Bloom finds herself glad that Kiko stowed away as he's able to get into spaces she can't and retrieve objects she needs. She feels like she's in a puzzle based horror game, or a haunted escape room, but it feels almost as if there are two separate builders.

She finally gets the idea to try holding the note from the fireplace box up to a mirror, and even though the language isn't English, Bloom can read the note just fine.

And Bloom slowly begins to realise the blood covered woman isn't trying to stop Bloom, she's trying to help her. (she didn't say “get out!” she said “can you get them out?!”)

The note from the box tells her what she's walked into the middle of:

A witch with a strange power over mirrors, a wizard who found immortality and was corrupted by evil, a request by the legendary wizard Merlin to guard the corrupted wizard's prison until a way to kill him could be found.

The box note was a warning she didn't read until too late, warning against entering the mirror worlds, but it is centuries old, something has h since it was written.

Luckily, notes from the mirrors, from the witch, Bloom realises, fill in the rest:

A crack in the prison when an occult ritual decades prior had almost wrenched the witch out of the mirror, a crack that widened as she found herself bound to answer an inane summoning ritual, pulled to the mirrors of so many houses the prisoner was able to slip some of his power past the wards and infect the inhabitants of the house.

As Bloom gets closer to her goal, she is plagued by the ghostly and corrupted remnants of the wizard's previous victims, and realises the wizards influence is over taking the witch's, and it might be Bloom's fault. The wizard's puzzles and traps had been holding her friends hostage while the witch's blocked the way between the worlds within the mirror. In order to rescue her friends who'd been pulled into the mirror world prison, Bloom had slowly been undoing the outer layers of protection which kept the wizard trapped.

So Bloom sets out to make things right and finds herself deep inside the world of the mirrors where she come face to face with the witch at last.

The woman introduces herself as Mary, Witch of Mirrors and Liminal Spaces, the keeper of the mirror worlds.

Now that they can talk face to face, Mary is able to explain that Bloom protected herself against the wizard's powers with her own magic. (Which is why her friends had any hope of rescue, the compact mirror Bloom's been using to pass between worlds is the only way to unlock the door out of the mirror worlds.)

Over Bloom's protests, Mary tells Bloom that she holds an immense magic within herself that has lain dormant for most of her life, but it might be able to trap the wizard once more.

But they'll have to start from ground zero, all the way in.

As they travel, (bypassing traps designed to kill Mary and tear the prison apart without it's maker to repair it,) Mary explains the history of the wizard, Cocytus, one of a Circle of 5 incredibly powerful magical users who'd gained a form of immortality by perverting the power of the One Who Created the Universe, The Great Dragon.

Ironically, Phlegethon, the Fairy who'd been responsible for the perversion of power and the last member of the Circle left standing, had been the only member of the Circle that had been killed, somehow struck down by her own sister. The other four members had been sealed away before that, hidden in various Artefacts meant to trap them for eternity, but there was no perfect prison.

The small group of three manages to make it to the inner most part of the prison, and there they face off against Cocytus, who for a few moments inexplicably seems to think Bloom is the deceased Phlegethon who's tricked her way to the depths of the prison to free him.

Then he realises she's not when Bloom begins to help Mary layer in new prison wards, and in his rage (at being 'tricked', and since the prison is at its weakest) manages to break free for revenge.

Mary and Bloom do their best, even Kiko lending what aid he can in the form of ankle biting and splinter throwing, but they almost loose until Bloom experiences an almost out-of-body moment.

She hears an ancient and powerful roar, feels gentle arms around her even as an inferno of strength rages through her.

She finds herself transformed.

A presence at the back of her mind helps her, teaches her what to do and Bloom unleashes the Wrath of The Dragon upon Cocytus, stripping him of his unearned Spark of immortality and allowing Mary to finish him off once and for all.

In the aftermath, Bloom makes sure her missing schoolmates are unharmed, and Mary walks her out of the mirror world.

At the final doorway, Bloom realises Mary isn't coming with her, even though her task is over. Mary explains that she's covered in blood for a reason, she'd sustained mortal injuries in the normal world, and if she leaves the mirror she'll likely die without immediate magi-medical attention which Bloom doesn't have the knowledge or skills to provide.

But she tells Bloom to keep the compact, because Mary can go wherever it goes, since it's actually an ancient Artefact of her power.

Bloom hugs the woman goodbye, and she and Kiko leave the mirror world at last, heading downstairs to fix the formerly missing group before the sun rises.

The group wakes with the sense that something horrific had happened, but none of them remember what beyond vague nightmare like impressions, and they can't explain why Bloom looks so tired yet satisfied, but they all just want to get out of the house and are relieved to find the door is no longer (magically) locked.

Back at home Bloom comes clean to her parents about her adventure, and Mike and Vanessa come clean about the circumstances around Bloom's adoption.

Mary is able to fill in some gaps for them where the Magical Dimension is concerned, speaking through the compact mirror after being summoned by Bloom.

(Three calls of “Bloody Mary” and an aggravated witch appeared in the glass with a huff and a “really?”)

Bloom is grounded for a few weeks, but she takes that time to learn some things from Mary, though Mary is a witch, not a fairy and thus can't teach Bloom everything she needs to know about magic.

In the wake of her adventure, since she has no way to contact let alone explore the Magical Dimension, Bloom wonders about other haunted houses and 'cursed' places around the world, and once her grounding is up, she convinces her parents to let her go tour a few haunted places.

She runs into a few more cases of actual magic, but with Mary's help and her own growing skills, Bloom manages to become her generations top paranormal investigator and exorcist.

#winx #winx club #winx club bloom #bloom peters #horror game au? ish #I've been on another rpg horror maker let's play bender okay?#I'm sorry - I wrote this at like 1 am

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technoplaguearchive · 5 years ago

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Cruel To Be Kind (4/4)

If he had been asked, Bakugou didn't think he would have ever been able to predict the awkward fucking day he was about to have. But one ruined pastry later and his life goes in a very different direction, one he finds that isn't wholly unpleasant.

Pairing: MidoriyaxBakugou / BakuDeku Rating: Teen & Up Category: M/M Fandom: My Hero Academia | Boku No Hero Academia Originally Published: April 16, 2019 on AO3 Chapter: 4 of 4

No.

Had he really just said no? To the man he’d been in love with for years? No?!

Oh fuck Mina’s right, I’m a psychopath, he thinks derisively.

When he sneaks a peek at Midoriya’s face out of his peripheral, the nerd looks stricken and pale. Any other day that might have been funny but in this context it’s just awful. The green haired man’s eyes have gone wide and he’s staring at Bakugou in open surprise. Bakugou is honestly surprised that he hasn’t seen any kind of pain set in yet, right now it’s just shock.

He watches his mouth open and close several times before Midoriya finally settles on closed and then turns away. His profile is that of a defeated man and Bakugou hates himself for it. He’s the cause of this hero, his hero, looking like the world is ending and there’s nothing that can be done to save it.

“Fuucckkkk.” He drags his hands over his face after setting his food down and falls back into the comfort of the couch. He’s half-tempted to blow something up to run off some frustration but this is not the time- and everything that could be blown up has been before or it got moved specifically so he wouldn’t while he was gaming or something. Kirishima has actually been the one to suggest moving everything away from the couch after a really intense gaming session where he’d singed several pillows and blown up two good tea mugs. He’d actually been a little upset about the mugs but Kirishima had come through and replaced them.... well, he’d replaced one and after he relayed the “hilarious” story to everyone, Midoriya had actually found a replica of the other and given it to Kirishima to give to Bakugou. The stupid nerd had known it was Bakugou’s favorite mug and had taken it upon himself to fucking replace it when it was Bakugou’s own stupidity that had broken it.

A puff of sound beside him reminds him that Midoriya is beside him. He turns his head to finally get a good look at the man and wishes he hadn’t; Midoriya is smiling that weak ass smile he used to get back in high school when shit was bad and he hadn’t mastered the “it’s all right” grin yet. Bakugou feels his insides twist and he pitches forward to shove his head between his knees, instead knocking his forehead on the table and reeling backwards from the pain with a scream.

Midoriya is quick to action, leaping the space between them and landing astride Bakugou to inspect his forehead. Bakugou, romantically inept cur that he is, panics and shoves Midoriya backwards off of him. What happens next is Midoriya sitting squarely on the cream cheese pastry and spilling Bakugou’s coffee everywhere. In response to this, Bakugou can only stare with fingers pressed to his forehead and a shocked expression.

He was so fucking stupid.

Midoriya’s lower lip trembles and he makes no effort to move from his pastry-laden spot, instead those big green eyes starting to water and those perfectly freckles cheeks mottling with embarrassment. Bakugou can only stare at watch the whole fiasco unfold. What could he possibly do to salvage this? Midoriya only wanted to talk and Bakugou has instead catapulted him onto the table like some kind of freak.

The men spend several minutes staring at each other, cheeks red, before they look away and anywhere but at each other. Finally, tentatively, the blonde reaches a hang out shakily and casts a glance to Midoriya sideways. The pain on the nerd’s face is too much to look at directly and the pain in his chest at being the cause is almost too much to bear.

“ ‘m sorry I shoved you. Panicked,” he rubs the back of his neck with his free hand then looks directly at Midoriya’s heartbroken face, “Just hungover still, is all. Sudden touch is too much right now.” The realization settling over Deku’s face is like the dawn breaking and Bakugou feels himself smirk ever so slightly.

Midoriya takes the offered hand and pulls himself up, letting go almost immediately to try and assess the damage sitting on a once delicious pastry has done to his shorts. His face breaks again into disappointment and he groans. Bakugou laughs only slightly, clamming up when Midoriya shoots him a glare and raising his hands in a small surrender. “I just bought these shorts,” the green haired man laments in a voice just short of crying.

In one fluid motion Bakugou stands and gestures for Midoriya to follow him as he strides back towards his room. He only assumes he’s being followed if the startled “yes’sir” is anything to go by. He may not have any shorts that’ll fit, fucking nerd was built like a house, but a good pair of sweats or gym shorts should work.

Now that he’s showered he feels a little less like crap and can finally take stock of the situation his bedroom is in; several pairs of clothes are strewn everywhere. He can only assume in an attempt the get pajamas last night he’d thrown everything around... however that doesn’t explain the underwear on his pillow. He hadn’t noticed them this morning and he’d slept next to them. Gross.

Midoriya seems to find it all amusing though and is giggling as Bakugou scoops all the clothes up and deposits them in a hamper in the corner. “Shut up, nerd,” he growls menacingly. Midoriya only laughs more.

With an exaggerated eye roll Bakugou grabs a pair of gym shorts from a drawer and all but throws them into the other man’s chest. “Fucking change, you’re not sitting on my couch with your cream cheese ass.” At the look of barely constrained amusement from Midoriya, Bakugou let’s little explosions pop in his hands. “Change your fucking clothes or I’ll change them for you, nerd.”

This seems to work in getting Midoriya to take him seriously and he watches him scramble towards the bathroom to change shorts. Idiot.

When it seems to be taking a longer time than anticipated, Bakugou raps his knuckles on the door and calls out, “You need me to come in there, Deku? It’s just a pair of shorts, I can’t imagine you’re having issues with such a simple thing.”

The sound of things clattering to the floor is his answer and he doesn’t wait before slamming the door open to be greater with an unexpected sight; Midoriya is sitting on the counter in his underwear with various bathroom products scattered about him. His own shorts are on the floor and the loaned gym shorts are clutched in his hands.

Bakugou can’t be held responsible for his next actions, any reasonable person would have done the same. Or so he tells himself afterwards.

The next few minutes seem to pass in a blur of consciousness for the blonde. He vaults over the cargo shorts on the floor to scoop Midoriya into his arms, despite the man’s protestations, and carries him out of the bathroom. Midoriya is flailing and stuttering the entire time, right up until Bakugou dumps him on the bed on his ass and starts wrestling the shorts from his grip. In his panic at being caught Midoriya’s fingers have tightened on the shorts and he flat out refuses to loosen his grip. The litany of “Kacchan what are you doing” and “Kacchan, what the hell” is incessant and only stops when Midoriya finally relinquishes the shorts because Bakugou is all but crawling on top of him. Bakugou lets out a triumphant “Ha! Damn right, nerd” and waves the shorts in the air before he jumps off and turns to face the red-faced man sitting on his bed. In the back of his mind all he can focus on is Midoriya shyly sitting on his bed, scarred fingers clutching the wrinkled blanket and cheeks a crimson they rivaled Kirishima’s hair. How has Bakugou never noticed how well shaped Midoriya’s legs are? They’re all muscle and it’s a surprise he’s not salivating. He’s always been a sucker for a nice pair of legs and fuck does Izuku have a gorgeous pair. He can just imagine grabbing a hold of them and feeling those muscles under his fingers...even his teeth and lips.

But there was a bigger problem to address and he needed to get ahold of himself; no shorts.

So Bakugou drops to his knees and before Midoriya can process what’s happening Bakugou is sliding the shorts over his legs and pushing him backwards into the bed to finish pulling them up. When he seems to finally register what’s going on Midoriya panics and flails our, clocking Bakugou right in the side of the head with a, thankfully unpowered, fist.

This is what finally knocks Bakugou to his senses. Well, that and the sudden blossoming need to puke. He falls backwards onto his ass, straight on the floor, and stares as Midoriya sits up in all his flushed glory.

“Ka-Kacchan?”

Bakugou stays stock still with wide eyes. He’s barely even registered he was punched, his brain is now deciding to play back with frustrating high definition what he had just done.

Midoriya is suddenly kneeling in front of him, shorts in place. (When had he done that?) One Of those scarred hands reaches out slowly, presumably to cup his face if the hand gesture is any indication. “Kacchan? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you! Let me check and see if you’re okay.” His fingers barely make contact when Bakugou ruins everything again.

“Oh fuck.”

There’s the vomit. Finally. He all but shoves Midoriya into the bed and scrabbles like a deranged crab towards the bathroom. He slips briefly on the discarded shorts and curses their existence before making it to the toilet to dry heave the barely existent contents of his stomach into the bowl.

Agony.

Red blossoms behind his closed eyelids like droplets of blood. He hopes faintly it’s not blood, even though blood would make no sense.

How the fuck do people enjoy drinking if this is what it’s like? Holy shit this is truly awful! Does Mina have to do this every time she drinks? That’s gotta he really unattractive to any guy she brings home. And what about Kirishima? Ugh. No way shark-teeth would ever get a kiss if this was what happened when he went out! Gross! Who honestly thought drinking was fun if this happened! Maybe Pinky was right this morning and there was a problem. This kind of drinking had to stop, can’t always drink away your stress-

“You’ve thought about kissing Kirishima?”

Of course! Who hasn’t thought about kissing Kirishima? What with those weird teeth and those big dumb adorable eyes and he pouts really cute.

“I mean, I guess Kirishima is kind of cute. You guys would be really cute together.”

Gross, no. Kirishima isn’t his type.

“You just said he was cute.”

“I definitely did not.”

A gentle hand lands on his shoulder and jolts him back into his body. He turns to find a pair of soft, worried green eyes staring at him. The smile on his lips doesn’t quite meet his eyes and Bakugou is confused. “You definitely did, Kacchan. You were mumbling between trying to...puke.” He lets out a sad little laugh.

Bakugou screws his eyes shut and melts backwards into the warm body behind him. “I did no such thing, nerd. You can’t prove shit.”

This gets a genuine giggle from Midoriya and it goes a little towards easing him. “I’m really sorry for punching you, Kacchan. I think I may have hit you too hard and you’re in love with Kirishima now.”

Bakugou mimes vomiting and is promptly dropped onto his back so his recliner can avoid being puked on. “Not in love with Kirishima,” he mumbles from his spot on the floor, eyes still shut against the bright lights in his bathroom, “never Kirishima. Don’t like red heads. His legs are too bulky anyways.”

“I think you’re still drunk.”

Bakugou slaps away the hands trying to lift him by his armpits. “Hungover as fuck. Who let me drink this much last night?” The question is mostly rhetoric... mostly. He does kind of want to know why Kirishima didn’t knock his ass out.

The hands are more insistent this time and he’s hauled to his feet rather reluctantly and only after complaining that the floor was colder. With help he half walks to the bed and flops down onto his back, reminiscent of awful his awakening this morning. Midoriya plunks down on the other side of the bed and keeps quiet. Bakugou cracks his eyes open to see what the nerd is on about and sees him just staring with a small smile. “What, asshole?”

“You’re kind of funny when you’re hungover.” He shrugs and then toys with the hem of his shirt. “You’re a dick when you drink but you’re funny when you’re hungover. I wish you wouldn’t drink so much though,” he whispers the last words as he looks up to meet Bakugou’s red gaze.

Unable to stand the guilt Bakugou looks away. “Tch. Not drinking this much ever again.” He swivels his head back, slowly, to peg Midoriya with a hard stare. “And I’m not a dick when I drink.”

“You actually kind of are?”

“Why would you think that?”

Midoriya lets out a huff of breath and shuts his eyes tightly, like he’s bracing for some huge impact or to get screamed at. Which, depending on what he said, the latter might happen, hangover be damned.

“You yelled at me a lot last night. And you tried to fight me.” He opens his eyes to see Bakugou’s placidly watching him, waiting. When the blonde nods for him to continue Midoriya answers with his own small nod. “We haven’t fought since we were kids, Kacchan. You were really mean last night. I only wanted to help.”

“Spit it out, nerd. What did I do? PinkyPie said I fucked up.” Midoriya nods again and Bakugou growls. Of course he’d fucked up. “Something about love confessions.”

Midoriya’s wince is all the confirmation he needs. “You got really mad at me. I wanted to apologize. I know you don’t feel that way about me and I shouldn’t have brought it up, especially when you were drinking and not in the best state of mind. It was clear all night you didn’t want to be around me but I pushed, and I’m sorry. I kept following you like we were kids again.”

Both men laugh at this. “Not mad about the confession.” He looks back over to see Midoriya staring at his lap so he reaches out and slaps the back of his fingers against the nerd’s knee. “Hey, look at me.” Midoriya grants the request and looks up under his lashes. “Fuck do you even know how stupidly attractive you are when you do that? Fucking quit” he growls as he slaps his hand harder against his knee.

“Ow! That really hurts!”

“No it doesn’t, asshole.”

“You’re being so mean, Kacchan. You must be feeling better if you’re being this mean.” Despite his words there’s a small smile tugging at Midoriya’s lips and Bakugou sighs at the sight. The nerd really was cute. “You aren’t mad that I confessed?”

“Seriously that’s what you fucking took from that? God you’re dense as fuck.” He rolls over onto his stomach and scoops Midoriya down to him with an arm around the man’s waist. The squeak he gets from it is adorable, like a fucking excited puppy. Midoriya uncharacteristically stays in Bakugou’s grip, but stays tense under the arm. Taking this as a good sign Bakugou continues. “I’m not mad about the confession, dipshit. I’m mad at the how. And I called you attractive and you completely skipped over it in favor of hearing I wasn’t mad about your shitty ass love confession.”

“It’s not nice to say someone’s love confession is shitty!”

Bakugou pushes him away and rolls to sit up with a half-hearted glare. “Well it was. That is honestly the worst way to confess! How do you expect someone to reciprocate if you think telling them you love them in a back alley is okay?”

“How would you do it, then? It wasn’t exactly planned! Not like it matters, you said no twice now and you’re being really scarily calm about it.” Midoriya doesn’t seem offended or scared anymore, but he’s not entirely at ease in Bakugou’s presence.

Bakugou shoots him a smirk, eyes twinkling with mischief despite their tiredness. “Nah, I ain’t gonna tell ya. You don’t deserve to know. You’re not smooth enough to pull it off anyways.”

The pillow that hits the back of his head is unexpected and he turns startled eyes to Midoriya who still had the pillow clutched in his hands and an enthusiastic smile on his perfectly kissable lips. “You’re a bully, Katsuki.”

Bakugou Rios the pillow from his hands and throws it back at his face with a laugh. “Damn straight, idiot. Now let’s go back to our coffee, my mouth tastes like shit.”

“Good thing I’m not allowed to kiss you, I’d hate to taste that.”

The unexpected words cause Bakugou to stutter-step as he’s climbing off the bed and he almost faceplants.

“HAAAAA?”

Midoriya tosses him a sly smirk on his way past into the main area. “Kirishima probably wouldn’t mind though.”

Bakugou watches the nerd walk, no- fucking sashay, back to the couch without moving. That cheeky little shithead...he’s actually kind of more in love with him for it. “Oh you’re so in for it, Izuku Midoriya. I’ll show you who wouldn’t mind it” he mutters to himself as he moves to rejoin him on the couch and resume the free, and probably cold by now, coffee.

The next few months pass by too fast for Bakugou’s liking. He’s so occupied on trying to dial back his drinking that he doesn’t even notice the city getting colder. All in all, he’s done really well. He hates to lose, after all, and this is just another type of competition. He’s managed to get it down to drinking once a week, and he’s made a deal with himself that he won’t even do that if someone comes over. He’s trying to be better. The BakuSquad has started randomly showing up on his time off if it coincides with theirs, and it’s kept him alcohol-free for quite a few nights. It doesn’t always work but it helps.

Mina attributes the ‘easiness’ of his quitting from him not really being addicted, but Kirishima seems proud of him all the same. And Bakugou can’t stand making that idiot sad so he keeps trying. When he proudly proclaimed to Kirishima one night that despite having the day off and no one coming over he hadn’t drank, Kirishima had kissed him. And Bakugou hasn’t really minded, but they both knew it wasn’t right. So Bakugou had tactlessly said the teeth weren’t as bad as he imagined and dove in for one more kiss. The night ended with both men deciding they wouldn’t work out, and Kirishima trying to psyche Bakugou up to confess to Midoriya. Bakugou’s response had been to tell him he’d only do that when Kirishima stopped crushing on him. That was how he found out Kirishima had been thinking about asking out someone he worked out with, and he couldn’t have been happier for his friend. But of course he wouldn’t tell him that, so it was a shoulder bump and an “About fucking time, shitty hair.”

And so the months passed in more or less the same fashion. He kept busy at work and if he was stressed too much he called Ashido. He took her up on the offer of listening if it was needed. And more than once she stuck her pink fucking nose in his business and asked how it was going with Midoriya. Every time he shot her down and told her to shut the fuck up if she knew what was good for her. Turns out she did, in fact, know what was good for her after the tenth threat to her life.

Speaking of the nerd, he learned to ease up...some. He wouldn’t fully ease up until he confessed himself and got a yes. On the chance Midoriya turned him down, he didn’t want to admit to being a lovesick fool. It was easier to pretend nothing existed than to be a mopey imbecile. He could be normal angry Bakugou if it didn’t work out and no one would be any the wiser.

But it was time to finally admit he needed to do something about this. His time with Midoriya was getting harder to stand. There was only so many times he could shrug off a touch that lasted a bit too long or a stare that lingered. He had a suspicion Midoriya was catching on but Kirishima assured him that the nerd still firmly believed Bakugou was not interested and was just behaving weirdly because he wasn’t drinking as much.

Idiot.

When snow finally came to visit their city he couldn’t put it off anymore. The time to tell Midoriya was now or he risked losing him forever. He couldn’t stand seeing the man’s face in magazines with the words “hottest bachelor” stamped across the pages. Those dweebs didn’t even know Deku, not like Bakugou did. And he’d fucking show them. Deku wasn’t a bachelor, oh no. He just didn’t know he belonged to Bakugou...yet. But that was going to change. Tonight.

Midoriya usually got home around 8pm if his texts from the last week were anything to go by. It was 7 now, which gave him an hour to get flowers and candy and half an hour to obsessively rehearse his speech. Half past 8 seemed a good enough time to show up, it gave Midoriya enough time to settle in from work. Fuck he hoped the nerd wasn’t in the shower when he showed up. No, scratch that, he could be in the shower but only if he invited Bakugou to join him and-

“Fuuuccckkkk.”

He bangs his head on the metal pole beside him on the train. He was getting so off topic thinking about a naked and wet Deku. Mentally he shakes himself and chastises that he needs to get back on task, stay focused.

The flowers were easy, he could grab some of those funky colored carnations he saw online. People dyed them all kinds of crazy colors and he had a feeling Midoriya would like them. Orange and green, that’s what he wanted. He would mimic their hero suits and make the damn nerd swoon from his attention to detail. Deku was always into sappy shit like that.

The candy, well... that one might be harder. Deku loved chocolates but there was one brand that he had once threatened to dismember Bakugou over if he ate them all. It stuck in his head only because he couldn’t remember the little jackass ever threatening to rip his arms off before. Ochako has laughed like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard and when Bakugou aimed a rather large explosion her way Midoriya had chucked him across the street like he was a rag doll. Needless to say, he was never forgetting that fucking candy.

8pm on the dot his phone vibrates with a message from Deku.

DEKU: just got home. Have a good night! Let me know if you need to talk and I can come over or call

Bakugou huffs out a small laugh at how predictable his little nerd is. No, not his yet. But tonight he will be. This thought makes him smile as he finally strides into the complex Deku lives in. Okay, so half an hour to stand out here like a creep and practice what he wants to say. He could totally do this.

“Deku- no, shit. Can’t call him that for this. Gotta do this right!” He slaps his cheeks with a growl and mentally starts over. Just then his phone buzzes again and he sees messages roll in from the group chat.

RIOT: good luck tonight! Zappy-Boy: you got this, man! SeroIsBadAtNames: go get em! AlienQueen: don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, sweetie <3

Of course Ashido would be weird. He types out a response with a smile.

Blasty: you do everything, and everyone AlienQueen: how rude AlienQueen: but seriously, good luck Katsuki Blasty: thanks, idiots Blasty: if I don’t respond...idk. It could have gone either way RIOT: he loves you, shut up. You got this!

Of course Kirishima was super excited about this. That man had become his number one supporter since they’re little rendezvous.

He silenced the device and slides it into his pocket. No more distractions. He starts psyching himself up again.

“Izuku. I know we haven’t always gotten along-“

“You’re right, we haven’t.”

A shock jolts up Bakugou’s spine at the voice. That voice. Slowly he turns his head and gets an eyeful of Deku bashfully standing at the base of the stairs, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Deku, you damn nerd! I’ll kill you!” Honestly who could blame him? The nerd had snuck up on him! “Who do you think you are, sneaking up on me?”

Deku giggles and Bakugou feels his heart soar at the sound. He would kill to hear that for the rest of his life. “I didn’t think it was sneaking, Kacchan. You’re standing in my parking lot like a creep.” At Bakugou’s scowl he offers a huge grin. Then, noticing Bakugou trying to hide things on the ground, he tries peeking around. “Whatcha hiding?”

“N-nothing! Back off,” he shouts. He can feel the sparks in his hands and quickly closes them to smother any explosions.

His stutter and evasiveness only seems to pique Midoriya’s interest and he skips, actually skips, the distance between them to stand almost nose to nose with his visitor. “You’re hiding something, Kat-su-ki.” He pops each syllable of his name and smirks at seeing the blush rise on Bakugou’s neck.

Bakugou pushes at Midoriya’s chest to no avail and the green haired man just laughs. “I’m glad you came to see me. Why don’t you come on up and ai’ll order us a pizza.” Without waiting for an answer Midoriya spins on a heel and starts off back towards his apartment. When he reaches the stairs and Bakugou still hasn’t joined him he calls back, “I’ll go up first and leave you to gather whatever you’re hiding. I’m assuming it’s for me if you were hiding it from me,” he grins, “That’s cute.”

Oh there was no way the nerd didn’t know Bakugou was in love with him.

Quickly he scoops up the gifts and darts off after Midoriya. The apartment’s front room is as he remembers it; sparse living room decorated in blues and yellows and reds. Still obsessed with All Might. He laughs a little and looks over to see Midoriya putzing around the kitchen, presumably looking for a pizza menu. “Usual for me, you know what I like” he calls out. Midoriya nods without looking back and dances a little when he finally finds the menu. Adorable idiot.

Figuring this is his best chance Bakugou deposits the gifts on the small table. Midoriya would see them, sure, but maybe he could knock this out before food was delivered. He didn’t have a speech yet but he could do this, he’d wing it. He can hear the call ending in the kitchen so he prepares himself, standing beside the table so everything was in view.

Midoriya’s face as he turns the corner and sees the display sours Bakugou’s mood instantly, however. Instead of awed, the nerd looks confused and keeps glancing between the gifts and Bakugou like he’s not sure who anyone is or what flowers are. Maybe he should have been holding the flowers? Shit. Quickly he picks them up and crosses the room to stand before the other man. Midoriya looks slightly taken aback and backs up, Bakugou trailing him until he’s flush against a wall with the blonde looming over him. “Kacchan? What’s going on?”

Bakugou groans and rolls his eyes and shoves the flowers against his chest. “I had this all planned out, shitty Deku. Of course you’d ruin it.” He waist until Deku accepts the colorful carnations then stuffs his hands in his pockets. “They’re for you. The chocolates too. They’re the ones you like so much.”

Midoriya peers around Bakugou with wide eyes. When he alights in the chocolates he darts past the blonde to get to the table. Immediately he drops to his knees and touches the box reverently, acting like he’s not sure it’s real. A little hurt at being abandoned over candy, Bakugou turns to give him an earful but one look at those tear filled eyes has him swallowing his words. Midoriya looks so happy.

“Kacchan. You got all this for me” he chokes it, words caught between sobs.

Bakugou nods and sits beside the other man on the floor. He needed to do this now before they got derailed or Midoriya got the wrong idea.

“Why would you get me these things? I mean, it’s really nice of you but you’ve never done this befo-“ Bakugou places his palm over Midoriya’s babbling mouth, effectively cutting him off, smiling at the wide eyes and the red growing on the other man’s face.

“Let me say what I need to say, and then I’ll let you babble away for the rest of the night. Nod if you understand.” Midoriya nods eagerly behind Bakugou’s hand and he grins. “Good boy.” Midoriya blushes even more at the praise, so Bakugou files the knowledge away for later.

He clears his throat and grabs one of Midoriya’s scarred hands in his own. The shock from the other man almost has them pulling apart but Bakugou holds on tighter. “Izuku, I know we haven’t always gotten along. We grew up together and I made your life a living hell. I thrived on it, even. But I watched you grow with jealousy. I think that was why I was so hard on you. Even quirkless you were a better hero than I could be. And then you got a quirk and suddenly I couldn’t keep up. But when we graduated, I watched you rise through the ranks with fondness. Before that, even, I think the jealousy faded away to an acceptance. I was even proud. You were going to be so much better than me, and I had a new goal to strive towards. But I-,” he swallows past the lump of coal burning in his throat, “I didn’t know how to tell you I didn’t hate you anymore. You kept being nice and I didn’t deserve it. I think I was punishing myself on your behalf. I thought I didn’t have a right to your kindness. So I kept pushing away. But the further I got the more I hurt. It hurt to be in your orbit, too, but for a different reason.” He threads the fingers of their joined hands together and squeezes lightly. Midoriya looks like he wants to cry and Bakugou’s not far behind. “It took awhile to realize, but it hurt to be in your orbit because I love you and I didn’t think I deserved that. I was awful to you, I didn’t deserve to love someone as pure as you. But, that didn’t stop the feelings from being there. And, well, I finally realized I can’t keep putting it off. The options were speak up or step aside, and I don’t like backing down. I think you know that better than anyone.” Midoriya is actually crying now and Bakugou reaches out with his untethered hand to wipe a few tears away. “So, Izuku Midoriya, I love you. I’ve loved you for years. And I felt you had the right to know.”

Silence stretches between them, punctuated only by their heavy breathing. It gets tense before Midoriya breaks it, mercifully. “You told me no, Kacchan.”

He doesn’t want to admit that this breaks his heart. He knows how Midoriya felt now at hearing those words. It’s a soul crushing feeling. He starts disentangling their fingers so he can make a quick escape. “Yeah, I guess I did. I wasn’t happy with you confessing first and in a shitty back alley and in that situation, so I said no. Like the fucking psychopath I am.” He climbs to his feet and double checks he’s still got his phone and everything else on him; check, all there. “I understand that I did irreparable damage. But, I thought you should know. And this was kind of how I planned on confessing for awhile now. You asked how I would have done it? This. This is how I would have done it.” He laughs suddenly, tears now spilling down his cheeks. This is an unfamiliar feeling and he hates it. The only other time he’d felt like this was watching All Might retire. “Just maybe without the rejection. But don’t worry about it, s’all good. We go back to normal now. You can keep the flowers and chocolates, I’m not that much of a dick.”

He takes a few steps backwards, trying to etch this last look of Deku in his brain, and then turns to leave. He gets another two steps before a green blur tackles him to the side and they go skidding across the floor and into a wall. Logically he knows it’s Deku but his training kicks in and he pops an explosion against the wall to stop himself from hitting it hard.

“DEKU WHAT THE FUCK I COULD HAVE KILLED YOU!”

The nerd’s face is buried against his chest and he’s heaving great sobs and soaking Bakugou’s shirt through. “Oi, nerd. What the fuck?” He grabs a fistful of Midoriya’s hair and yanks, pulling the blubbering man’s face up to see what was going on.

Midoriya looks a right mess but he’s smiling as big as All Might and Bakugou is so confused. Hadn’t he just rejected him? Why was he smiling.

“Deku what the fuck?”

Midoriya laughs suddenly through the tears and unwraps his arms to wipe the tears from Bakugou’s face. “You’re so dumb, Kacchan. You never listen to me.”

“Hey, shitty nerd. I just poured my heart out and now you’re being rude?”

“No!” Midoriya sits up suddenly astride Bakugou’s hips. “Listen to me, Kacchan. Just listen.” He plants his hands firmly on Bakugou’s chest like he plans on keeping him in place forcefully if necessary. “You told me no. But then we talked, and you said I was attractive. And you said you weren’t mad. So I thought, maybe there was hope? And I’ve been trying to give you space! But Kirishima said you had big plans!”

“Hair for brains is getting his ass kicked for this.”

“Don’t interrupt me, Katsuki! You have no manners! But I was giving you space to get used to me loving you, and to see what you’d do. But you had told me no, and that crushed me. But I didn’t stop loving you, you big idiot.”

“Watch your mouth. You’re hanging out with me too much if you’re getting this mouthy.”

A devilish smirk crosses Midoriya’s face and it’s so at odds with his tear stained face that Bakugou has to laugh, but it ends when Midoriya brings his face level with the blonde’s underneath him. “You can watch it for me. I’ve seen you doing it, Kacchan. You think you’re subtle but you’re not.”

He plants a palm in Midoriya’s face and pushes, shoving distance between them. “Says the man I caught checking my hungover ass out. You’re one to talk, Izuku.”

“Say it again.”

Bakugou shoots him a glare. “Getting a little demanding. Wanna say please? And elaborate?”

“Say it again. My name.”

Bakugou is admittedly taken aback but does as asked. “Izuku.”

Midoriya’s smile is blissful. “Again” he pleads.

Bakugou smirks and closes the distance between them, sliding his knees between Midoriya’s. “Izuku,” he whispers, bringing their faces closer. “Is this what you wanted, Izuku? You wanted me to beg for your love?”

Midoriya shakes his head but his face tells a different story; he looks completely enraptured. “I never want to make you beg. Unless that’s what you like, then I guess we can-“

Mood gone.

Bakugou covers his mouth again and narrows his eyes. “Stop talking. You ruin things. And who said there’s a we?”

“Mwycanbugthooifthasswatyouslike.”

Peeling his hand away he wipes it on his jeans with an overly disgusted face. “What the fuck did you just slobber all over my hand to say?”

“I said, I can beg too if that’s what you like.”

“Jesus Deku you can’t just say shit like that. How are you so nonchalant about that?”

“I mean, I can’t say I haven’t pictured it. I’ve had a lot of time to come up with fantasies and I guess since we’re confessing to things tonight and we feel the same there’s no point denying it.”

“Deku, I’m going to kiss you but I need you to shut the ever loving fuck up. Your lips are doing completely the wrong kind of movement and I physically can not take any more of your inane blabbering.”

“So mean, Kacchan!”

Bakugou grabs a fistful of Midoriya’s shirt and hauls him forward, clashing their lips together in the worst first kiss imaginable. Even kissing Kirishima wasn’t this awkward.

Midoriya looks blissed out though when they pull apart and Bakugou pushes him away again. “You need practice. You’re gross.”

Midoriya just nods and stumbles to his feet, pulling Bakugou up with him. “Yeah. Okay, we can practice. You’ll teach me. I’ll learn your moves again.”

“Nerd.”

“Your nerd.”

At this, Bakugou can’t help but smile. Yeah, certainly his nerd. For as long as the little idiot would have him. “Yeah Deku, my nerd.” A knock on the door interrupts them and Bakugou groans. Fucking pizza man. He spins Deku and plants a boot in his ass to push him towards the door. “If I open the door with a hard on I will have to blow up the delivery boy. Get the pizza so we can eat and I can ravish you.”

The look of delighted terror on Midoriya’s face is enough to feed Bakugou’s sadistic ego for years to come.

Hours later, as they lay on Midoriya’s floor after eating too much pizza and making out for far longer than decent, Bakugou reflects on what brought them here. What brought him to this happy place that he never thought he deserved.

His plan hadn’t worked like he’d wanted it to, but he had Midoriya now. It worked out. And he would work every day to keep that smile on his nerd’s face. And for him, he’d stop drinking altogether. He never wanted to forget Midoriya confessing his love ever again.

And if he had it his way, they’d be confessing their love every day until they were nothing but dust.

#bakudeku #midoriya x bakugou #bakugou x midoriya #my hero academia #mha fanfic #bnha fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

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