#all my thoughts are jumbled and its been a while and i honestly just shut off my brain rewatching fgsjgdjs too lazy to get my notes down exc | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moodymelanist · 3 years ago

Text

One Thousand Followers Celebration

okay I’m honestly kind of shook that we’re even here but thank you to everyone who’s a part of our little corner of the fandom. I love you all so so much and I’m so happy to be here ❤️ most people requested something cute and fluffy so here’s Cassian being drunk and and Nesta comes to get him. I hope you all enjoy!! 💘💘💘

feel free to read it on AO3 here too!

word count: 2975

—————

Nesta was halfway through her latest read when her phone started buzzing incessantly. It was just getting to the good part, where the main couple started to realize maybe there was something more between them than burning hatred, and she didn’t want to put it down. Frankly, it reminded her of her own love story, but she’d never admit that to anyone out loud.

She was forced to look away when her phone was vibrating so constantly with texts she thought someone was calling her. Sighing, she reached for her phone, unlocking it only to see her husband had sent her almost twenty messages.

Cassian, 11:52 PM

Nesta

Nes

I love yiu sooooo muche

Youe so pretty

I weish u were here

everyons laufghint at me but i miss u

wyd

nesssssssssss

are u ignoringme for a book agwain

Swethearft<3

did i tell u i luv u td

wait its ok I ddid

i want a kiss when i see u ok

The remaining messages were a jumble of Spanish and English words mixed together, and while she had a working knowledge of Spanish, she didn’t know it well enough to even attempt to decipher what he was trying to tell her. Still, she couldn’t help but smile as she read through them all, affection blooming in her chest for her favorite person in the world.

Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel had gone out to their favorite bar for guys night, and Cassian was clearly drunk off his ass. It was really hard to keep a straight face with him normally, but when he was drunk, she thought it was one of the most adorable things she’d ever seen.

Nesta, 12:01 AM

I love you too, you big goofball

I’ll give you a kiss and a hug when I see you how’s that

Her phone was ringing within seconds, a picture of Cassian filling her screen before she answered.

“Hello?” she said, marking her page with a bookmark before closing it.

“Nesta!” Cassian exclaimed. She had to pull her phone from her ear for a moment, but she smiled again anyways.

“Hi, Cassian,” she replied, trying not to laugh. He was just so cute. “Are you having a good time?”

“Leave me alone, I’m talking to my wife,” he said, his voice sounding slightly further away. He must have been talking to Rhys or Azriel, but the way referred to her made her want to melt. They’d been together for years and married for just over one, but it still sent a thrill through her to hear him claim her out loud.

“Nes?” he said, his voice back to normal volume.

“I’m here,” she said, getting off the bed to begin looking for her shoes. He normally called her and started getting ridiculously affectionate when it was getting close for him to come home, so it was only a matter of time before he asked her to come get him.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Looking for my shoes,” she replied, spotting her boots on the floor. Leaning her phone against her ear, she bent down and put them on over her leggings before walking back to her dresser.

“Are you coming to find me?” he asked. She couldn’t help but smile at how excited he sounded by the prospect.

“Yes, baby.” Nesta hit speaker and put the phone down on their dresser as she took off the oversized shirt that she’d borrowed from him, slid a sports bra on, and put on a plain tee shirt over it.

“Oh thank God,” he said, and then dropped his voice to a loud whisper. “You’re much more fun than the dumbasses I’m with.”

She’d opened her mouth to reply, but then Cassian began talking to someone else nearby. “Tarquin! Fancy seeing you here! Are you still mad about your windows? Nes, I gotta go. Love you.”

It was a cool September evening, so Nesta grabbed a denim jacket before throwing her hair up into a bun and leaving their apartment. Once she got to her car, it was a short fifteen minutes to get to The Sidra. Thankfully there was ample street parking around the corner, and the bouncer let her in with a quick flash of her ID.

Nesta walked inside, spotting her husband and his friends immediately. They took up a ridiculous amount of space in one of the booths, and she couldn’t resist smiling as Cassian visibly brightened by her appearance.

“Nesta!” he shouted, grinning widely as she got closer. So much for subtlety, she supposed. She offered repeated apologies as she walked over to where he was sitting, but thankfully most of the people there seemed to think his behavior was too cute to be a serious nuisance.

Once she was next to the side of the booth he was sitting on, he pulled her in for a hug, wrapping his muscular arms around her waist and laying his head on her chest.

“Cassian,” she said at a normal volume, endlessly amused as he snuggled into her. She leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head before turning to greet Rhys and Azriel, both of whom looked seconds away from breaking out laughing.

“Don’t you dare,” she told them, tightening her arms around Cassian as she gave his friends a look. They both hold their hands up in surrender, Azriel raising his beer at her before turning back to Rhys.

“I missed you,” Cassian said against her chest, his voice muffled. “So much.”

“Every minute without you was excruciating,” Nesta said, playing along. He looked up at her with a pout.

“Stop teasing me,” he told her. He was frowning slightly now. “I did miss you a lot, you know.”

“I’m sorry. You’re just so cute like this, it’s hard not to tease you a little bit.”

“Not as cute as you.” Cassian smiled up at her, pleased with himself. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes good-naturedly and let him tug her into his lap.

“Sorry to crash your guys’ night,” she said to Rhys and Azriel now that she was facing them.

“He’s not as much fun when he gets like this anyway,” Azriel replied, chuckling. “In his old age, he’s turned into a sappy drunk.”

“Hey! We’re the same age!” Cassian protested from behind her, tightening his grip around her waist. Azriel and Cassian had both turned thirty earlier this year, while Rhys’ birthday wasn’t until November. Nesta had turned twenty-eight back in April.

“Good thing I like sappy drunks,” she said, twisting around to face him. He gave his friends a smug look as she pressed a kiss to his warm cheek, his stubble scratching her face in a way she loved.

“You two are the worst,” Rhys groaned.

“Like you and my sister are any better,” Nesta shot back as she turned around. Feyre and Rhys had been together since their college days and had tied the knot once they’d both graduated.

“Speaking of her, I’d love to get back home to her,” he replied. He pulled out his phone and began texting, and Nesta guessed he was asking if she was still awake.

“I guess that’s it then, huh?” Azriel asked, raising an eyebrow at Nesta.

“I’m sure Gwyn is dying to see you too,” she teased, smiling softly at him. She and Emerie had colluded with Cassian and Rhys to set the pair up on a blind date last year, and everyone had been thrilled when they’d agreed to keep seeing each other.

“She has a performance tomorrow, so she’s probably already asleep,” Azriel answered, raising a hand to catch the closest server’s attention.

“I told you my wife was hot as fuck,” Cassian said suddenly, shifting to point wildly at Nesta as their server – a young woman named Nuala – came by to bring them the check.

“I’m thrilled,” she replied dryly, raising an eyebrow as she looked at Nesta. “He hasn’t shut up about you for the last half an hour, you know. Thank God he wasn’t making you up.”

“Thanks,” Nesta said, her lips twitching from trying to hold in her laughter. Rhys put down his card to pay for all of them, waving off Cassian and Azriel’s attempts to give him money for their share of the check. Within a few minutes, the four of them were getting out of their booth and beginning the walk to the exit.

Cassian immediately went for Nesta’s hand, intertwining their fingers before bringing their hands to his mouth so he could kiss the back of hers.

“That is so unhygienic,” she said, exasperated. “I haven’t washed my hands since I left our place.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he said, grinning at her. He kissed the back of her hand one more time before lowering their hands to swing them between the two of them as they kept walking.

“Who’s that guy glaring at you?” Nesta asked, noticing a tall Black guy staring Cassian down from a booth near the door. He had silver curls that stood out brightly against his dark skin, but he couldn’t have been much older than any of them. It had to have been natural, since his eyebrows and lashes were the same color.

“Oh, that’s Tarquin,” he replied, waving at Tarquin with a sheepish grin from where they stood. Tarquin flipped him off before turning back to his companions, who both shared the same dark skin and silvery hair.

“Why is he glaring at you? Do I need to talk to him?” Nesta asked, frowning. She was the only one allowed to glare at her husband like that.

“No sweetheart, it’s fine,” Cassian replied, laughing as they walked by the table. “It’s our inside joke. He threw a party senior year of college and I might have gotten drunk and broken a few windows in his house.”

“You what? Cassian, that’s not an inside joke.”

“It’s fine, Nes. I paid him back for it, but his parents were pissed. I’m banned from his neighborhood, actually.”

“That is not fine.”

“I might be drunk, but I know when I’m right,” Cassian said, just before walking right into the door. Azriel had accidentally let it swing behind him and Cassian hadn’t grabbed it in time, and it got him right in the face.

Nesta burst out laughing before she clapped her free hand over her mouth. “Oh my God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have laughed. Are you okay?”

“The love of my life just laughed at my pain,” he whined, yanking open the door. Azriel and Rhys were absolutely losing it on the other side, making it hard for Nesta to keep her composure in solidarity with Cassian.

“Let me see it,” she said once they were outside. Cassian had pressed his hand to the side of his face, but Nesta got him to move it with her free one. His cheek was red from the impact, but she was sure it’d be fine with some ice once they got back to their place.

“It’s not so bad,” she reassured him. It was hard to keep a straight face with his friends – mostly Rhys – still howling in the background, but she got on her toes to give him a kiss on his face.

“It still hurts,” he said, pouting at her. “Can I get another kiss?”

“You big baby,” she said, but she leaned in and kissed his cheek again. “That’s all you’re getting. When we get home, I’m putting ice on that.”

“I love it when you boss me around,” he said dreamily, letting her tug him past his friends. “It does things to me.”

“Please take him home,” Rhys called from behind them. Nesta flipped him off before Cassian could, earning another wide grin from him as they walked towards her car.

“Thanks for the best thing I’ve ever seen!” Azriel added, both of their laughter fading the farther Nesta and Cassian walked.

“They’re so mean,” Cassian grumbled as she dug into her pocket for the keys.

“You want me to yell at them? Hurt their feelings a little?” she offered, unlocking the doors.

“No,” he said, pouting again. He got into the passenger seat as Nesta walked around to the driver’s side, and he immediately reached for her hand once she sat down.

“I’d do it if you wanted me to,” she told him, shooting him an amused look before starting the car.

“Maybe a real kiss would make me feel better,” he suggested, leaning towards her and puckering his lips.

Nesta leaned in and brushed her lips against his, but he wasn’t having it. He cupped the back of her head as he deepened their kiss, warming her up inside from the cool September air.

“Come on, let’s go home,” Nesta said, pulling away even though it was the last thing she wanted to do. He huffed and pouted but thankfully put his seatbelt on.

It was a quick ride back to their building, and thankfully Cassian managed not to walk into any more doors on their way upstairs. He wrapped his arm around her as they got off the elevator, which Nesta thought was as much for balance as it was to hold her close.

“Thank you for coming to get me,” he said once they were back in their apartment. He immediately walked into the bedroom and flopped on their bed, somehow managing not to knock anything over or hit Nesta’s book.

“You’re welcome,” Nesta said back, taking the time to take off her jacket and shoes before walking to the freezer to grab a bag of frozen peas. She wrapped it in a paper towel before coming to lay next to him, taking down her bun so that her hair was down around her.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he whispered, turning to look at her. His eyes lit up when he noticed her hair was down, and he reached over to play with it. She handed him the peas instead, making sure he pressed them to the side of his face.

“I thought I knew all your secrets,” she whispered back, smiling softly as she indulged him. She loved that she was the one who got to see him like this, that she was the first person he saw in the mornings and the last person he saw when he closed his eyes at night.

“You do,” he confirmed, pulling the peas away to smile at her. She gave him a disapproving look and he quickly put them back before continuing. “I love nights like these.”

“Why’s that?” she asked. She reached out to brush some of his loose waves away from his face so they didn’t get in the way of the peas.

“I never thought I would be as happy as I am right now,” Cassian said seriously. His other eye was blocked from the position of the peas, so Nesta just held the gaze of the one she could see as he moved his hand to cup her face.

Sometimes he would say things like this that made her feel like her heart was going to burst from how sweet he was. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He shifted closer to her, and Nesta inhaled deeply at the lingering scent of his cologne. “I remember when you wouldn’t even say my name out loud. Now you’re here with me and my peas.”

She laughed before answering. “It was the peas that really sold me, you know. I should have written them into my vows.”

“And you’re telling jokes? Tonight must be my lucky night.”

“Shut up before I take the peas from you, Cassian.”

“You love me too much to do that, Nes.”

“Stop using my love for you against me. It’s unfair and you know it.”

“Never,” he said, running his thumb across her cheek. “I love you too much not to use every advantage I can get.”

“I taught you too well,” she said, smiling softly at him. “Come on, let’s get ready for bed.”

She turned to kiss his palm, as unhygienic as it was, and then got up and started changing into pajamas. He groaned as he rolled off the bed, stretching as he stood up to reveal a strip of golden-brown skin at his abdomen before walking towards their bathroom.

Nesta joined him to brush her teeth in another one of his oversized shirts and no pants. He finished first, squeezing her hip as he walked by her and went back into their bedroom. She quickly brushed through her hair and pulled it into a loose braid for sleep before turning off the light.

Cassian was waiting for her under the covers, laughing as he examined the back of her book. “Is there smut in this one?”

She rolled her eyes before grabbing it from him. “You’re insufferable.”

“That’s a yes, then,” he said, grinning. She turned the lights off and put the book on her nightstand before she slid under the covers, snuggling up next to him anyway.

“I’ll let you know when I get to the juicy parts,” she grumbled eventually. He laughed under his breath, pulling her tighter against him as he maneuvered them so her back was to his chest as usual. His heart was beating its usual steady rhythm against her, a familiar baseline that let her know she was safe and everything was right in the world as long as she could curl up next to him every night.

“I love you,” she whispered, not sure if he was asleep yet. He could fall asleep anywhere, and ridiculously quickly at that; she wasn’t too proud to admit she was jealous.

“I love you, too,” he replied, tangling their legs together.

It didn’t take long for either of them to fall asleep after that.

#acotar #acosf #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #one thousand followers ahhhh

207 notes · View notes

cynettic · 4 years ago

Text

Kaeya x Reader ( midnight cuddles )

Summary - You get back late from work and commissions to Kaeya sleeping, you try not to wake him up. Little bit of a twist this time though, you’re drunk ;)

Pairings - Kaeya x Reader

Writing Style - Bullet points, mini oneshot fluff (at the end)

Warnings - Nonee

A/N - Cmon Kaeya, accept my marriage proposal dammit-

Midnight Cuddles

It wasn’t too uncommon to show up home later than your boyfriend, his cavalry duties carrying him through the day. If he showed up late, it was with alcohol in his hand and a tad too many drinks. A hiccuping mess, you were used to it despite chastising him every time anyway.

“I don’t want you stumbling around late at night!”

But it was a whole other matter on the eventful night that you showed up late from work, and to top it off, drunk. It wasn’t that you drank when he wasn’t around, it was always when the two of you were in the tavern, either you or him making sure to stay sober to take the other home.

Or on the nights when you both accidentally had too much, and Diluc had to take care of the problem.

But tonight had been rough, and you’d been lured by the sound of glass clattering against the counter, and the promise of bliss if only for a few hours. Of course you’d thought Kaeya was there as well, which is why you’d bothered to drink that much.

But now you were stumbling into your room, drunk.

And very bad at being quiet.

Kaeya wasn’t the deepest sleeper, so you’d often be able to get away with sneaking in and crawling back into bed when coming back from work late.

But your drunk dumbass couldn’t stay up straight.

So despite thinking you were as quiet as the sneakiest ninja in all of Teyvat, the clatter of objects being strewn around with every step told you otherwise. You hadn’t meant to wake him up, you really hadn’t, even with your hazed mind you knew that Kaeya needed his sleep.

Somehow even drunk, you detected when he woke up with a groan, slowly rising to sit up. Just as he did so, you ducked, trying to hide your form in the darkness of the closet.

Kaeya didn’t have nocturnal vision like Diluc or Zhongli, so he struggled to glance around the room. Of course, even half asleep he knew any threat wouldn’t make that much noise. So he’d automatically suspected it was you, or a very poor excuse of a thief.

“Y/n…?”

Curled in a ball, you didn’t make a sound as you softly breathed against your knees. Pity you decided to be quiet now, Kaeya was already awake.

Standing on both feet, the cavalry knight rubbed at his eyes, glancing around the room once more. Now at this point he could smell the reeking of alcohol, and with a deep sigh he’d already puzzled together half of what was going on.

Eventually he spotted you, and with slow quiet steps, he made his way towards your bunched up form. Kneeling down to reach your small for, against the closet door, he breathed your name again, this time more worried.

“Y/n?”

You didn’t move, only sniffled when his eyes met yours. To say you were an emotional moody drunk was an understatement, you could jump from angry to energetic. Crying to laughing, any emotion, just too much of it. Another reason why you stayed away from alcohol unless Kaeya promised to stay sober, or Diluc offered to keep you in check.

Today, you decided to be a crybaby.

Kaeya paused, a hand slowly making its way to hold your face, hand against your cheek. His hand was calloused, and you nuzzled your head against the familiar form of his hand.

With a sigh, he slowly tugged you closer to him with one hand, lifting you up effortlessly. You leaned your head against his chest, a hiccup escaping your lips as well as a sob.

“What’s wrong kitten…?”

You sniffled in response.

Kaeya simply held you in his arms as he came to the kitchen, holding you with one hand as the other reached to grab a glass from the cupboard. There were times where he could be impatient, but cradling your quivering form, he didn’t even consider pressuring you for an answer.

He filled the glass with water, still holding you with one hand.

This man is strong- 😳

Anyways, one hand carrying you, the other one held the glass of water, and he made his way to the couch. Plopping down, he set you sideways on his lap, so your head and knees could lean against his chest.

If you weren’t drunk, you definitely would’ve admired the window ;)

One hand had the cup of water to your lips while the other tangled itself in your hair. It was messy, and his fingers slowly soothed out the tangles, careful not to make the process painful.

You drink the water, and once again, he asks what’s wrong.

You sniffle, “Y-you woke up.” 🥺

How could he not- you were literally kicking around every little thing on the ground. Probably hit the bed while you were at it too, even a deep sleeper would’ve woken up.

But Kaeya just chuckles.

He probably would’ve teased you, but you were genuinely crying, and he didn’t want to make you anymore upset. Especially when you were drunk, you were so unpredictable.

Instead he presses a kiss to your forehead, another between your eyebrows, and a last one to the tip of your nose. He promises you he doesn’t mind, that he will always wake up for you, that he’ll always be there.

You cry even more.

When you persist on the subject, he kisses you silent. He kisses you so much you forget what you were trying to say, and with another sniffle, you start to giggle. His lips drag to your neck, and your giggles turn to full out laughs at the jittery sensation.

“K-Kaeya- that tickles!”

Content that he managed to drag you from your solomn state, he sets the empty glass of water on the table, picking you up once more. He never stops kissing you though, your giggles like music to his ears.

He doesn’t stop kissing you till you’re all dressed up to sleep, tucked under the covers and in his arms.

You tell him you love him, he kisses you on the lips one last time and tells you that he wants to hear it in the morning.

Arms around him, you nuzzle your head against his neck, slowly drifting to sleep. He presses one last kiss to your forehead, tangling his legs with yours as he falls asleep alongside you.

_-_-_-_-_

Everything was hazy.

Your mind was jumbled between thoughts, your boyfriend beside you being the main focus. You could feel his warmth etch on your cold skin, wanting to press closer against him.

You couldn’t press close enough.

So with these jumbled thoughts, you sipped out of the glass of water in his hand, trying to clear and sort out what ran through your mind. But an overwhelming sensation of shame and guilt adorned your subconscious, and all you could do was cry. He’d asked why, rubbed his hand against your face and soothingly tousled his fingers through your hair.

And he’d laughed.

You didn’t understand what was so funny, you felt so terrible. He’d been sleeping and you’d woken him up. Of course you’d tried to hide away after doing so, but either you were terrible at hiding, or he had super senses.

Or you were drunk.

Not that you’d ever admit that to yourself in this state.

“B-But-“ you tried again, a hiccup cutting your sentence short.

Kaeya pressed another kiss to your lips, so gentle you couldn’t help but soften into it. Gentle, but firm enough to get you to shut up. Honestly- why wouldn’t he just let you talk??

“D-dont kiss me while I’m talki-“ you began.

He kissed you again.

“Hey! Are y-you even listen-“ you started.

He pressed his lips against yours, stern.

“K-Kaeya…” you whined, pouting when he kissed you again.

Instead of talking, you only stared up at him with puppy dog eyes, frown growing when he only chuckled in response. The tears had stopped, and the only sensation that pumped through your veins was annoyance, the look on your face made it clear enough.

Yet his hands worked their way around your hair, and the soothing motion was instantaneous on your mood. He set the glass down on the table, the other hand brushing back a strand of hair from your face. Getting a good view of the frown on your face, he paused, thinking of a way to take away the tears for good and put a smile on your face.

So he pressed his lips against your neck.

They were icy cold, different from the warmth of when he had kissed you. If you were sober, you would’ve known that it was the work of his vision, set down on the couch. But still, you jolted from the contact, letting out a speak of surprise fill the room.

“Cold!”

“Cold- cold- colddddd-“

His lips drifted from the nook of your neck to your shoulders, and you tensed up at the jittery sensation. Feather like, you couldn’t help but let out a giggle, forgetting about the tears you had shed earlier. It was like he was tickling you, and you flailed your legs, ankles brushing against the fabric of the cushion.

You squirmed, not enough to get out of his lap, but just enough to match the rhythm of your sporadic laughing. You didn’t notice how Kaeya’s lips curved to a smile at the sound, fingertips now cold to the touch as if to drain away all malicious thoughts.

At last, when he stopped with his icy teasing, you let out a sigh of relief. Burying yourself in the warmth of his chest, he pressed one last kiss to your forehead, warm.

You shivered against the contrast of temperature, an equally warm smile on your lips as you looked up to meet his eyes.

He beamed back, mission accomplished.

#genshin impact #genshin oneshot #genshin headcanons #genshin x reader #kaeya #kaeya x reader #kaeyagenshinimpact #kaeya ragnvindr #genshin fluff #cuddles #cynshealthysfw

331 notes · View notes

yostresswritinggirl · 4 years ago

Note

hi! ik sojourner's already ended but i have an(other?) idea in case u ever pick it up since i love ur albedo 😳😳 ok so

what abt a reader who is rlly excited abt alchemy, but they avoid talking abt it bc they start rambling and stuttering and stumbling over their words bc they're so excited? they get assigned/asked to go w/ albedo bc they're rlly good at alchemy too, but they end up fidgeting a lot, muttering and stopping just a few words in before their volume rises and giving short answers when w/ him bc they're afraid of rambling (since they do it to think better when alone, sometimes insulting and arguing w the objects when they don't get the expected result) & being seen as annoying or unprofessional?? i'd like to see how he reacts to these and what he'd think!! and how or when he discovers the reason reader is acting like that

it's kinda (a lot, rlly skowkskdk i always have ideas but never write them) specific, but i rlly like the idea!! i'd love to see what u do w/ it if u ever pick it up in the future :D hope you're staying hydrated and well🥺🥰 -🌌

What do you mean Sojourner's already ended, Sojourner is eternal, Sojourner is forever-

Kidding aside, this is too cute to pass up, even if it's quite a lot! Cute Albedo brainrot moments always please. It might be too much sometimes but I hope you enjoy my interpretation of it! Scenarios format! Starry night, oh I'm always hydrated, thank you and I hope you're well!

For the Record

Albedo working with a Reader that's highly enthusiastic about alchemy but insecure about rambling... (masterlist)

You dealt with Alchemy a year before the Kreideprinz entered Mondstadt, your attunement to the mystic arts baffling and intriguing you every time. During that period, you're not really sure of what art you're doing but in the end, you kept doing great that the people had acknowledged your talents.

Through your own effort and self-study even if unnamed, you managed to put your talent into this art of Alchemy and created discoveries regarding powders and mineral-focused ingredients. It was a shame there was no one to share it to, and when you talk to scholars/practitioners alike, you end up rambling so much to the point that on their end you barely make sense. Whether this was caused by your eaten words or lax and personalized vocabulary over the matter, you're not sure.

Their confused and judgmental stare haunts you, leaving you alone with your raging thoughts and overworking mind when you just want to learn and expand your discoveries to other people without driving them away. Your enthusiasm is great and all, but it's not enough to make others understand.

So when the Chalk Prince entered Mondstadt, blessing the city with his scholarly knowledge and boundless creations, he easily made a name for himself and in extension the city itself.

Before Sucrose and Timaeus, you were called upon by the Grand Master Varka to accompany Albedo and be his temporary assistant seeing as his field in the division is still quite new and you were the only other 'Alchemist' in town besides him. You're both giddy and nervous, like really, really nervous.

You've heard of Albedo and maybe a caught a glimpse or two, but you've never actually interacted enough to know exactly what he looks like or how he is as a person. All you know is that he's a very, very attractive person overall.

"Good-looking, carries this aura of wisdom around him, he's just really charming," were the words that rang through your mind as you pointedly watched your steps, following the carpets leading to Ordo Favonius' laboratory while Lisa's words rang through your head.

Is he really that kind of person? You've heard that he's quite stoic too, but if he's really that distracting, you're scared that it would be harder for you to focus and help out. Honestly how would you even deal with him when your fields of Alchemy are so different from each other?

You have no idea how long you've been thinking, standing in contemplation in front of the set of double doors that leads to the workshop with nothing but doubt in your mind. But upon realizing the teal gaze of another person silently waiting instead of wooden doors, you figured it was far too long.

"Ah, I'm sorry! I was in my head, I wasn't expecting you to-!" You flailed your hands around comically before abruptly stopping, noticing the now confused stare of Albedo of which are distracted by your hands. Clearing your throat, you extended a hand towards him to shake, trying to stare anywhere but his face. "I'm (Y/N), I'll be your assistant until you're well settled in the city. It's nice to meet you, Ma-"

His hand finds yours in a firm grip, a firm shake so sudden you bit your tongue back, "Albedo, Kreideprinz of the Art of Kemia, but just Albedo is fine, I'll be under your care."

Albedo finds it intriguing and surprisingly not that distracting whenever you talk to yourself or to the ingredients whenever you so much as feel the slightest frustration. "Ugh, this Zinc powder is so stubborn, clingy," you angrily mumbled under your breath as you washed off the blue powder that spilled at your hand, "So, so clingy." Since you're facing the sink, you couldn't see the way he was holding himself from laughing audibly at your amusing antics.

You seemed lively and open, is what Albedo thought when he first met you. But this observation soon shattered when he kept getting hanged upon your abrupt stops when delving into your field, something he was really irked about the first few times. Your art of Alchemy is much different from his and he's wishing that you'd clarify and expound all your learnings to him, but in the end, you somehow step back everytime your words became lengthy.

Are you hiding something? Did you not want him to learn the same arts as yours? If those were the case, he couldn't bring himself to ask a simple question such ad why. Every time it crosses his mind, it brings a purse of a pout to his lips and furrowed eyebrows.

Every response you gave always hints even tiny bits of trivias and tips he's never heard, Albedo always takes note of your spills that always cuts before reaching its climax. "-sorry, yes, this is activated charcoal Geo and Pyro slimes reaction." He lets out an audible sigh upon your retreat, your frustrated mind too occupied to notice.

"Please," his desperation drips in his word when he looks at you with eyes filled with raw emotion you'd never know he'd be able to pull off. Your tightly locked lips only pressed on further at his puppy eyes, "Please continue, I wish to know more about your Alchemy, if you would be so kind."

"It's not really- I'm not really the best at explaining it..." You're almost fidgeting, cheeks aching from tensing and warmth. But he regarded you with a blank stare, forcing you to fill the silence, "If I- If I start, my ramblings may not uhm they're not easy to comprehend... or something."

Albedo had been watching more than he'd like to admit, and he's come to relieved (yet still confused) realization that your treatment with him wasn't his alone. You always step back before things get lengthy, words then cutting short and concise with a steeled expression. Lips caught between teeth.

"I digress," his hand motions to yourself to emphasize his next clause. "As your field and sole practitioner of this art, like my own condition, your word of mouth is the best ground of knowledge."

If he was irritated, he's doing a very good job in hiding it. And even with the respectable yet close distance in between you still felt cornered. This is still your master and it's not professional to refuse a scholarly talk, "The electro crystals when charged... ionized? create sparks, while also producing the same result when smacking- mining!"

The scribbles of his pen against his clipboard as he nods in attention urges you on, realizing his focus and sincere interest on the topic, "So when you put the little tidbits or even powdered version in a beaker thingy, depending on the material, they interact with the spark. Honestly, I'm unsure yet how lethal it is but if you put the sparks under fire too, they make like those makeshift gunpowder as well as additional reactions such as-!"

The lilt and proceeding high pitch in your voice usually signifies the approach of your insecurity as well as the climax of your enthusiasm. At this point, you pull your hand up to shut your mouth forcefully, and when Albedo really detests the abrupt end of the conversation his hand would shoot forward to grasp your own.

He'd intertwine your fingers to distract, before urging you to continue with a challenging stare, as if daring you to use your other hand to pull that off again. This whole scene felt oddly scandalous, but oh boy does it send your mind into a bambling, overloaded mess. A heated head forces your lips open even if they sometimes come out in a jumbled string, he learns to decipher them.

The more you get used to or feel more comfortable, Albedo uses that fondness skillfully whenever he wants. "Can you tell me more about the scarlet chunks from Dragonspine?" He throws it so casually in the silence as you two work back to back in your stations, without a beat as your mind is partially preoccupied, you answered into a narrative of trivia. It almost feels like you're talking to the flames of the bunsen while you wait, but Albedo smiles at the now filled silence as he listens with divided attention.

He really likes your voice, and the word of wonders you bring along with you.

"For the record, I don't mind it at all," his breath hovers on your lips, cold and prickly, "Whatever comes out of these lips, I want to hear it all."

That last part eheh

Woah, this went long. Like reader babbling hahaha. I said I'm gonna speedrun, not freaking write this long smh

@zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @lilydewi22 @yellowflowre @traveler-lumine @nonniechan @creation-magician @hanniejji @gojos-baby @just-some-stars @volleybloop @tartuu @moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @lehra @albaedhoe @xiaophilia @heisenwurst @childe-simp-exe

#genshin impact x reader #Albedo x Reader #exile.goblet #exile.flower #sojourner special #genshin impact #imagines #gender neutral #fluff #anon 🌌

531 notes · View notes

balaroo · 4 years ago

Text

Negative Reinforcement

Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku one shot.

Summary: Bakugou Katsuki was the last person who should be picked to give emotional support- especially when he's stuck in a hospital room and bored out of his mind, but Izuku had shut down after their battle with Shigaraki, blaming himself for not being able to stop the carnage. When not even their classmates can pull him out of his mood Katsuki takes it into his own hands.

Aka, Katsuki has to cheer up Izuku and it goes surprisingly well.

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Midoriya Izuku Needs A Hug, Soft Bakugou Katsuki, Worried Bakugou Katsuki, he's trying his best, It Can Be Read As Platonic But Who Am I Kidding, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Cuddling, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Bakugou Katsuki is Bad at Feelings, Bakugou Katsuki is a Good Friend, Post War Arc, not spoiler free, no beta we die like nighteye, this is so self indulgent you have no idea, Depressed Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Izuku Feels Guilty, One Shot, short and sweet

Author’s Notes: I'm not really happy with how this turned out honestly. I loved the idea but I struggled to write it well, forgive me. Anyway, wanted to post it before the leaks for the new chapter come out and break me. This is my fluffy interpretation of what should happen but watch Hori stamp on my dreams.

Set right after chapter 296, there are many spoilers ahead and a few guesses about what will happen next! Thank you for reading and please leave some constructive feedback if you can! I'm still very new to writing fics like this.

Cross posted on my AO3 account, the link to which is in my bio if you’d prefer to read it there.

Rest of the work below the line!

Negative Reinforcement

If there were two things Katsuki hated more than he hated everything else the first would be hospitals. The sour smell of disinfectant that clung to each surface and the constant background hum of machines slowly drove him insane, that combined with Katsuki's own opinion that he'd spent enough time in the damned places already did not make them appealing to him. The second most hated thing would be dealing with other people's emotions. Hell- it was tiring enough having to figure out his own, let alone being expected to somehow know what other people were feeling and even if he got that bit right he was still meant to act accordingly. It was exhausting, so he tried to avoid it whenever he could. In this situation, avoiding it was not possible.

When Katsuki first woke up his thoughts had been jumbled, fleeting and fearful, considering the last thing he could remember was bleeding out in a ruined city it seemed fair enough. The room had been dark, cast in shadow with only the soft flashing lights of various medical devices to give any indication that Katsuki hadn’t been thrown into a void. He’d tossed fitfully in the hospital bed for a second, not quite grasping his surroundings and cried out as white-hot pain shot across his chest as if someone were tugging on his insides. “Kacchan?” The familiar voice was quiet but echoed with desperation and Katsuki frantically sought out its source, twisting his head, eyes finally adjusting to the gloom until he could make out a dark mound on the far side of the room that was moving. Katsuki finally separated the figure from the pile of blankets and pillows, ruffled hair stuck out in all directions and if he tried hard enough, Katsuki had been able to make out the faint gleam of green eyes piercing through the darkness locked directly onto him. “Thank goodness.” Izuku breathed as he saw Katsuki twist to look at him, his form slumped again, fading back into the shapeless mass of the hospital bed and Katsuki twitched anxiously in response. He felt completely disorientated, the thoughts in his head were moving too fast to pin down.

He’d tried to respond but his mouth felt dry and his tongue heavy, barely managing to rasp Izuku’s name in a thick croaky voice he wasn’t sure the other could even hear, struggling to lift the medicated fog that wrapped heavily around his mind like a thick blanket. Mingled feelings of relief and fear flitted around his head as he began to remember the carnage and bloodshed- Izuku was here, he had made it out and that alone calmed Katsuki enough to relax back into the bed. But what about everyone else? Their classmates had been fighting their own battles all over the city. He had barely been able to focus but managed to form a few words, “The others?” Each breath, every swallow and twitch of his head sent fresh waves of pain rippling through his body, black spots threatened to overcome his vision but he fought through it. He could almost feel the other boy hesitating, it made him more distressed. “The class is fine.” Izuku had told him at last in a heavy voice, “You should go back to sleep.” Katsuki could remember thinking how defeated the other teen sounded. He’d ground his teeth together, feeling frustration building in the pit of his stomach that he was so helpless, unable to do anything more than shake and let his eyes fall shut again, slipping back into a fitful rest.

He woke the next day, feeling much more himself and determined to find out exactly what had happened but was immediately shut down by Recovery Girl who insisted he had to stay in bed or risk an even longer ban from training. Though, if he was honest, he wasn’t sure if he would’ve been able to stand up, let alone shake someone down for answers. Katsuki then tried to interrogate Izuku about it but the freckled nerd was annoyingly quiet for a change, spending most of his time with his back to Katsuki facing the bare white walls of the room. It was worrying, to say the least. Katsuki tried to tell himself that Izuku was just recovering from the wounds he’d sustained from All For One, damage that might not ever heal according to Recovery Girl. Izuku might never be able to use his arms in battle again.

Another day crawled by insufferably slowly. The only people allowed in their room had been Recovery Girl and a few different nurses who would bring food and water, all of which had clammed up the second Katsuki tried to ask them for news. He was frustrated with being talked over again and again, his hands tingled with a need to blow something up. So even by his own standards, he was in a lousy mood when their classmates were finally able to visit. Recovery Girl had forbidden the entire class from coming, “Only a few at a time.” She’d said as she’d been checking on their bandages, “If either of you reopens your wounds then I’ll have to put in overtime, and I won’t be quite so nice.” Katsuki snorted, tapping his fingers against the side of the bed impatiently. He’d spent the morning trying to coax a conversation out of Izuku. Well, not so much coax as annoy or tease, but they were solid tactics that usually got a reaction. Today, however, he got nothing more than one-word replies until Katsuki had gotten so annoyed he’d just given up completely. He’d prefer it if Izuku would just yell at him, yelling he understood. Just say Katsuki had made him mad, anything other than this stony silence. It had Katsuki on edge.

He was brought back to the present as he saw Izuku move so he was sat up in the bed facing the door. Katsuki could finally see his face properly for the first time. It looked drawn and tired, eyes that were usually bright stared blankly at the wall and there were dark bags under them. Katsuki briefly wondered how much Izuku had actually been sleeping while he was turned away from him. He thought again about trying to get his attention but then the door swung open, banging against the wall noisily and making Recovery Girl tsk in irritation. Iida was the first through the door, his face was still bruised slightly in places and his wrist had some kind of support on it but other than that he seemed okay. “We are here to represent the class!” The dark-haired teen announced. His good hand gripped a mixture of brightly coloured heart-shaped balloons all with ‘ Get well soon!’ scrawled across them. Katsuki’s eye twitched. He’d never wanted to leave a room more than he had at this moment. The others were filing in now. Including Iida, Uraraka, Todoroki, Mina, Kirishima, and Sero were the first ones who’d come to see them. They all bore marks of the battle in some way shape or form. Todoroki had a bandage wrapped around part of his face and Kirishima’s left arm was heavily bandaged. The rest had scratches that had been taped up but it was their expressions that made Katsuki realise something was wrong.

They entered the room with forced smiles which were surprisingly eerie and didn’t match the dullness in their eyes. They all looked so tired. Though when they saw Katsuki and Izuku both sat up in their beds, watching them, they did seem to brighten up. Mina was the first to move forwards, dropping to perch on the edge of Katsuki’s bed with a loud exhalation, “You two had us all worried!” Iida was now tying his balloons to the leg of a table between the two beds and Uraraka hurried forwards carrying an assortment of chocolate that she put on the table as well. She then turned to Izuku with a nervous smile. He was regarding their classmates with a far-away look in his eyes but he did meet Uraraka’s gaze. “We uh- got those mint chocolates you like.” She began awkwardly, “How are you feeling?” Katsuki watched the exchange with narrowed eyes. He could tell she was taken aback by Izuku’s state but she was doing a poor job of hiding it. For a moment Katsuki wasn’t sure if the green-haired boy was even going to respond, then, at last, he smiled faintly, though it seemed more like a grimace, and said, “I’m okay.” A brief rush of relief hit Katsuki as he saw the boy sit up a little more, though he still had that glazed expression.

Then Katsuki’s view of them was blocked by Sero and Kirishima who moved a few of the visitors' chairs to crowd around his bed. “It’s so good to see you, man!” Kirishima exclaimed, he had a grin on his face and patted Katsuki on his non-bandaged shoulder as he sat down. “They told us you guys were fine but they wouldn’t let anyone come near you. Are you doing okay?” Katsuki growled and picked at a spot on his bedsheet where the thread had come loose, “I’m just about ready to break out of here, consequences be fucked.” Sero chuckled sympathetically and glanced around at the very clean, very sparse room, “Pretty bored then huh?” Katsuki’s patience was thinning rapidly. He was glad to see them all in one piece but if he had to walk around social niceties to get a straight answer from someone he really was going to lose it. “Not just that,” He snapped, “No one here will tell me anything. What the hell happened after the battle?” He didn’t miss the way Mina caught Kirishima’s eye with a startled expression as he turned to look at each of them in turn. When no one offered up a quick answer Katsuki had to stifle another growl, they were holding something back from him and he knew it. “I know we’re here because the bastard set his Nomu’s loose or whatever and they thought they’d come after us, but why hasn’t anyone told us anything? All Mig-” Katsuki broke off and stared bitterly at his hands. He’d been about to say All Might hasn’t even been to see Deku but he didn’t want Izuku to overhear him. He could hear Todoroki talking faintly in the background so he hoped the other invalid teen hadn’t been listening to him about to point out the obvious but Katsuki was mad the former symbol of peace hadn’t been to see them yet. If anyone could pull Izuku out of whatever stupid funk he was in, it would be All Might.

“Bakugou…” Kirishima started warily, “A lot happened, we’re-” He stopped mid-sentence and glanced helplessly at Sero. “We’re not supposed to say much.” Sero finished for the redhead, “They said you needed more time to heal befo-” “Fuck that.” Katsuki snarled, his stomach was twisted into knots with anticipation. He wanted to stomp his foot like a child. Maybe break something against a wall. If they left without giving him any answers he didn’t know how much longer he’d have to wait to have another chance. They were all watching him with concern and Katsuki realised he’d been gripping the covers tightly in his fists. He let go quickly but he’d already left scorch marks smouldering in the pale blue sheets. He struggled to relax his jaw and tried again, “If I have to lie here one more day without knowing what’s going on out there, I really will get out of bed and find out myself. That sound like a great way to heal to you?”

It was Sero who broke first, “I guess, I don’t think I could stay still either.” He admitted, looking at Kirishima who sighed but murmured in agreement. “He does have a point,” Mina said from where she was still sitting at the end of the bed, “And I wouldn’t put it past him to sneak out.” She stuck her tongue out playfully as Katsuki glowered at her, but he was silently glad to see her acting normal. Kirishima breathed out heavily, slumping forwards in the chair and meeting Katsuki’s gaze. “What do you want to know first?” “How is everyone?” Katsuki asked immediately, “We could only get them to tell us no one else from the class was in hospital but that was pretty much it.” Smiling softly, Kirishima nodded, “Everyone’s okay. Kaminari wanted to come today but he’s still on bed rest.” He waved a hand as Katsuki opened his mouth, “Just in his dorm. He got a pretty bad knock to the head but he’s fine, really.” Katsuki closed his mouth and eyed the others quietly. There was still something they hadn’t told him, he could see it in their faces, in the smiles that looked too fake and the unspoken grief he could feel around them.

“What happened?” Was all he asked, “Something went wrong, didn’t it?” He could almost see their facade’s failing, Kirishima wouldn’t meet his eyes now and seemed very interested in his hands while Sero leaned further back into his chair, tugging subconsciously at the hem of his shirt. Mina’s head dropped and Katsuki could see her bottom lip trembling as she stared down at the floor, when Kirishima offered a hand to her she took it and clutched it tightly, like a lifeline. Her entire demeanour changed in a few short moments. Whatever had happened, it really distressed her. There was another silent moment before Kirishima started talking again, “You were there when Aizawa sensei was hit with a quirk deleter round?” Katsuki nodded grimly, “He took his own leg off, I saw.” The redhead winced, “He’s still recovering, it was bad.” “But he’ll be okay?” It was Sero who answered, “We haven’t been able to see him yet but Shinsou said he’s doing better.” Katsuki wanted to relax but the other’s tone of voice sounded heavy. “There’s something else…” Kirishima began, “When we were trying to keep Gigantomachia from reaching the city we…” Another deep breath and his bright red eyes looked watery. “We lost Midnight.” Mina’s shoulders shook and her body convulsed in a choked sob but Katsuki could only stare in disbelief. Midnight had been their teacher for almost a year, she couldn’t just be gone. Katsuki’s focus wavered, his mind drifting. He could tell from their reactions what they meant and felt a deep pit open in his stomach. After everything that had happened, all the fighting, he never thought they’d actually lose someone. God, he was fucking naive.

The others gave him a little while to process it and Katsuki found himself wishing for the umpteenth time that he was anywhere else. “Bakugou?” Sero asked eventually and Katsuki quickly returned his attention to them. Mina’s eyes were red around the edges and he knew now why they all looked so drained. “How did it happen?” He managed to ask. His body felt oddly numb but when he spoke his voice sounded unsteady, even to himself. Mina leant forwards and breathed out shakily, “W- we don’t really know. We hadn’t heard from her and then we just found her, lying there.” Tears trailed down her pink cheeks and she lifted her free hand as if she was reaching for something. “I was- I held her hand.” Her voice ended in a whisper, dark eyes hazy. Katsuki shifted uncomfortably, glancing away. He didn’t like being confined in one space for moments like this, it made him feel nervous as if he were trapped. Kirishima was trying to comfort Mina though he seemed just as broken down himself. Sero watched them sadly for a moment before glancing back at Katsuki, “Other heroes were killed too. No one we knew well but they got the number 6 hero, Crust.” The dark-haired teen hesitated before continuing as if he wasn’t sure how much he should say. “Most of the big heroes are out of action. Hawks and Endeavour are still in bad condition, Miruko as well. But they’ll heal.” He sounded unsure of himself. The numbness settled a little deeper into Katsuki and he closed his eyes. All the destruction he’d seen from Shigaraki’s quirk and then Gigantomachia tearing the city apart, he didn’t want to ask about civilian casualties.

There was silence then, nothing more to say really. Sero returned to consoling the other two, whether he was unsure of how to do the same for Katsuki or thought the blonde wanted the space Katsuki couldn’t tell, but he was grateful for it. During the break from their conversation, he tried to focus on what his other classmates were saying to Izuku. They’d arranged themselves near the freckled teen’s head and Uraraka was saying something in an upbeat voice. “Recovery Girl said you’d be okay to go outside for a bit,” the round-faced girl was saying, “Stretch your legs, maybe see Eri. She’s worried about you.” Todoroki and Iida murmured agreement but Katsuki could make out Izuku’s face between Kirishima and Sero now, he still had his eyes fixed downwards with that subdued look on his face. Katsuki wondered if they’d told Izuku about Midnight or if they thought he couldn’t handle it yet. “Maybe.” Izuku replied, Katsuki was vaguely relieved to hear this voice sounding a little louder, “I’m still really tired.” Uraraka and Iida exchanged glances. “We can uh- leave you to rest a bit more?” Iida asked though he sounded like he didn’t want to. When Izuku simply nodded mutely and settled back down into the bed, turning to face his back to them, Iida’s face fell. He said something quietly to Todoroki and Uraraka that Katsuki couldn’t make out but the three of them got up and made their way dejectedly towards Mina and the others. Katsuki wanted to yell at them to keep talking to him but he just stared worriedly at Izuku’s back, if he was refusing to talk to his friends, how could Katsuki get him to say anything?

Uraraka joined Mina at the foot of the bed, Katsuki felt the mattress shift beneath her weight as she put her head in her hands. Mina patted her on the back and Iida stood in front of her, looking concerned. Todoroki had come to stand closer to the Katsuki. He leaned forwards slightly, “Has he said anything to you?” He asked quietly, his eyes were anxious and Katsuki knew he was just as worried about Izuku. Katsuki wrinkled his face, not pleased with the fact he hadn’t, “No.” He returned to picking at the loose thread on his mattress. For a second, he thought he saw Todoroki smile faintly as if Katsuki’s reaction had amused him. But when he looked up, it was gone. “I feel so helpless,” Uraraka said through her hands, catching the blonde’s attention again. “He’s just…” She trailed off miserably and looked back up at the rest of them. Iida reached out to rest his hand tentatively on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. She gave him a weak smile in reply but still looked close to tears. Katsuki hated to agree with her but as he glanced across at the pitiful figure of Izuku, still curled up against the wall, his heart thumped uncomfortably hard in his chest. He felt like he needed to confront something, preferably something physical. If he could just get out of bed and blow off some steam maybe he’d be able to think clearly. But no. He was trapped here, in bed, with a bunch of emotional teenagers and no anger outlet. Definitely a worst-case scenario.

Katsuki finally drew his eyes away from Izuku as he saw Kirishima shift in his chair. He exchanged an apprehensive look with Sero and opened his mouth as if he were going to say something more. “Bakugou...” But Iida cut in before he could get anywhere. “We should let you get some rest.” Iida fixed Kirishima with a pointed look and the spiky-haired teen glanced away, still looking guilty. They all made a move to get up but Katsuki spoke first. He wasn’t going to let them leave without telling him the truth. The whole truth. “What are you hiding from me now?” He demanded, his voice bitter. He’d had enough of all the secrets now. More glances were exchanged between the visiting party and Katsuki furrowed his brow even deeper. “Tell me or get the fuck out.” He snapped at them, patience far beyond gone. If they wanted to keep shit from him, that was fine. Well, it wasn’t actually but he didn’t want them here if that was the case and if they kept looking at him like some fragile thing he was going to go feral.

Iida sighed at Katsuki’s brash tone and pushed his glasses further up his nose. He cast a look over his shoulder at where Izuku lay unmoving and shuffled closer to Katsuki, speaking in a low voice as if he didn’t want the other teen to hear him. “None of the teachers wanted us to tell you, but…” Another pause as he built up the nerve to continue. Katsuki blinked in surprise and his anger faded slightly. Iida going rogue? The strict class representative was finally getting interesting. Iida stole a glance at where Recovery Girl was sitting in her usual chair in the far corner, head bowed as if she were dozing. She certainly wasn’t paying them any attention. “You’re being kept behind U.A’s defences because not long after Shigaraki disappeared, he sent his Nomu’s to Tartarus.” A cold feeling was beginning to settle in Katsuki’s stomach, “All For One’s prison.” He murmured. Iida nodded gravely, “Yes. Most of the top pro-heroes were still out of action or unaccounted for- There was no one to stop him. He took back his real body and broke out some more nasty criminals along the way. No one’s seen him since.”

If All For One had his body back and control of Shigaraki’s powers as well as the Nomu, everything they’d sacrificed… Had it done anything? Katsuki shook his head as if shaking away the thought. No, he couldn’t think like that. They’d saved most of the city just by holding Shigaraki down, Gigantomachia too, it hadn’t been useless. He side-eyed Izuku’s bed again. Was it just his imagination or had the boy shifted slightly in his peripheral vision? Returning his attention to the others, Katsuki clenched his fists. Though he wasn’t happy that they were being guarded, he could admit it made a lot of sense. The U.A Barrier was pretty formidable but he wasn’t sure it could hold off the bastard if he really wanted to get to them. Another flicker of movement in the corner of his eye and Katsuki was sure of it now. “You should go.” He said to them. Kirishima started, “W- Bakugou, are-” Rolling his eyes, Katsuki interrupted him. “I’m sure, Shitty-Hair. Get going, I want to sleep.” The redhead hesitated then nodded slowly and got up. The others said their goodbyes and did the same, stacking the visitors’ chairs back up and piling them in the corner before heading for the door.

Katsuki was so focused on watching Izuku for more movement he didn’t realise Todoroki was lingering by the edge of his bed until he coughed. The other teen kept his voice low as he said to Katsuki, “You’ll talk to him, won’t you?” Katsuki knew what he meant instantly and scowled, “What do you think I’m doing, bastard?” Now piss off.” Todoroki backed off, but Katsuki could see that same knowing smile on his face as he turned away. Though he tried not to focus on it, Katsuki’s face felt flushed and he glared angrily at Todoroki’s retreating back. Soon, their classmates were gone and the room felt bare once again. Though Katsuki had been sure Recovery Girl was asleep, the moment the door swung shut she got slowly to her feet. The old medic gave Katsuki a wry smile. “I’ve got other things to get done. You two rest.” She paused, “and heal .” The emphasis she put on the last word made Katsuki uncomfortable again and he was sure she knew exactly what they’d been talking about. Then she left and it was just the two of them.

Katsuki took a deep breath and glanced across at the other bed. Izuku was still, his back turned to the room, looking pretty much dead to the world like he had done for the last few days. But Katsuki had been sure he’d seen him twitch when Iida had spoken of All For One. He was awake, and he must have heard what their classmates had said. “You should talk to them.” He said before he could lose his nerve. Izuku stiffened from across the room and Katsuki waited before continuing, “They’re worried about you.” The silence between them stretched longer and Katsuki was sure Izuku would just ignore him as he had done since he’d woken up here until finally, he shifted. “And tell them what?” The green-haired boy’s voice sounded so tired and bitter that Katsuki winced. He’d never seen Izuku so hopeless before. He’d always been the first to bounce back from everything, it was one of his most irritating qualities. “The truth. They want to help you, idiot.” More silence, then at last, “What is the truth?” Even quieter than before and Katsuki had to strain to hear it. Katsuki blinked, “Huh?” What the hell was he talking about? Izuku rolled onto his back and Katsuki caught a glimpse of his face. It was streaked with tears, more running silently down his cheeks and Katsuki’s chest tightened painfully. “The truth,” Izuku repeated, his voice catching in his throat. “That I wasn’t able to stop All For One. I was given this power to be a hero and I couldn’t even protect the people I care about the most.” Katsuki gawked incredulously at him, “ That’s what you’ve been upset about?” He demanded, “You have got to be the thickest person I h-” He broke off abruptly as Izuku lifted one of his heavily bandaged arms in front of his face. “Hey! Stop it. You’re not supposed to move them.” But the freckled teen didn’t seem to hear him, “All For One was right.” He murmured, “I’m worthless, I don’t deserve this power.”

Katsuki could only stare at him in shock- It was one of the last things he’d expected Izuku to be hung up over after everything he’d seen him accomplish in a single year. He struggled vainly to find something to say. This was the exact opposite of what he was good at. Izuku had dropped his hand back to his side, staring emptily at the ceiling, and Katsuki’s stomach twisted painfully again. Part of him just wanted to yell at the dumbass about how, well, dumb he was being. Could he not see everything he’d done? All the lives he’d saved? But his mouth felt thick and heavy, his heart pounded so loud now and he had to bite down on his tongue to stop from cursing himself. This was pathetic, not even able to tell Izuku, someone he’d been willing to die for, that he was impressed with him. What kind of person did he have to be to find jumping in front of those spikes easier than admitting he was wrong? If he was doing this it would be his way. The first step was to make Izuku realise how stupid he sounded.

“Deku.” He said after a few minutes of silence had passed, “Come here a second.” Wide confused eyes stared at him, “W-what?” “Come here.” He repeated. “Why?” Katsuki’s eye twitched, “Because I can’t get up and- Fuck’s sake, just move it!” The bedsheets rustled softly as Izuku pushed them aside and slowly got up. It was a bit awkward, not being able to use his arms to prop himself up, but he managed it and then stood there, pausing for a moment before he walked cautiously over to where Katsuki lay. He stopped near the top of the bed and Katsuki huffed in annoyance, beckoning the other one closer. Izuku still looked confused but shuffled another few steps forwards, leaning down until he was close enough for Katsuki to whack him upside the head. It wasn’t a particularly hard hit but Izuku still yelped and stared at Katsuki in disbelief, “What was that for?!” He whined loudly. Katsuki couldn’t help but smile slightly at the indignance in his voice, it felt like a long time since Izuku’s voice had sounded anything but broken. “Negative reinforcement,” he said, “When you say something stupid about yourself, I get to hit you.” Narrowed green eyes met his own but he was sure they seemed more focused than before. Katsuki sighed, shifting in his bed. “You really think you didn’t do anything to help?”

Izuku was watching him closely, his expression clouded with an emotion Katsuki couldn’t bring himself to figure out. But he didn’t reply so Katsuki continued. “For starters, the second you realised Shigaraki could track you, you led him away from the evacuation. Which was pretty fucking stupid because you tried to do it without telling anyone.” Izuku snorted but didn’t interrupt, he’d stopped crying now which was a win, right? Katsuki had to tear his eyes away from the teen, the itchiness he felt was back, crawling all over his skin until he ground his teeth together, hard. “Then you unlocked float,” Katsuki counted it down on his fingers as if he were making a list, “ And used blackwhip to keep everyone from being destroyed by decay.” Another finger down. “Kacchan…” Izuku said hesitantly and Katsuki glanced back up at him. Freckles stood out against a bright red face and he took another step forwards so he was right next to Katsuki’s bed. Katsuki raised an eyebrow, he was sure his own face was flushed too but he managed to keep his voice steady as he said, “What? Are you saying you didn’t do that?” Izuku shook his head slowly and Katsuki could swear he saw the hint of a smile begin to tug at his lips. “Exactly. Now shut the fuck up and let me tell it.” He heard a soft chuckle to his side and blinked rapidly, trying to remember where he’d stopped. It was an effort to keep talking. He didn’t like that reassuring someone else meant he had to say embarrassing things like this. “You managed to stop All For One from stealing your power then still got up and kept fighting him again. Am I missing anything?” Izuku was stood with his bowed, dark hair in his face but Katsuki could hear him sniffing and figured he was crying again.

Shoulders shaking slightly, Izuku looked back up and yep. He was definitely crying again. “I could only do that because you saved me! You, Lemillion, Todoroki, Iida, you all helped me. And I couldn’t even stop you from getting hurt!” Another sob shook him, “If I can’t protect the people I care about, what good am I?” Katsuki frowned and rapped Izuku’s head with his knuckles again. It wasn’t as hard as the first time, more like he was trying to knock some sense into him but it still made Izuku start. He stared at him, the tears in his eyes glittered in the harsh hospital lights and Katsuki faltered. He was sure his stomach was now trying to escape his body by making him want to throw it up but he drew in another breath to steady himself. “That’s our job, dumbass. We’re all trying to save as many people as we can.” Izuku shook his head, he moved forwards somewhat uncertainly to perch on the edge of the bed. It dipped slightly under his weigh and Katsuki moved further back towards the wall so Izuku could turn to face him, now sitting cross-legged on the sheets which took a degree of shuffling around. Katsuki was very aware of how Izuku’s knees were pressed against his side on the small space. It was through the sheets but he was sure he could feel it. When the other didn’t say anything about their new position, Izuku started again. “With One For All though, I’m meant to save everyone. That’s what I was given it for.” His gaze fell again, “Midnight, everyone who was killed, I should’ve saved them. But I couldn’t do it. I shouldn’t have this power.” He went silent, looking even more miserable. “They told you?” Katsuki asked. He tried to stay quiet but he was surprised Iida or either of the others would’ve said anything to him. Izuku shook his head glumly, “I heard the nurses talking when they thought I was asleep.”

Katsuki regarded him with a sad expression, that must’ve been why he’d been in such a slump, learning that their teacher was killed for the very thing he believed he should’ve prevented. He’d had the worlds biggest burden dropped on his shoulders in the middle of a war, but he wouldn’t ask anyone to help him carry it. Which was Katsuki’s fault. All through their childhood and then their teenage years, Izuku had just wanted to be included, he always tried so hard never to be a burden. Izuku glanced back up as he heard the other boy sigh, his face tinged pink, probably from all the crying, and Katsuki tried again. “Deku. You can’t save everyone, not all the time.” Izuku flinched and Katsuki hurried on, “Not even All Might could do that so stop putting so much pressure on yourself.” Those bright eyes were staring at him so intensely now but Katsuki couldn’t stop, Izuku had to hear this. He swallowed dryly, “All For One, One for All, they’re both cursed powers.” Izuku tilted his head to the side, “They’re not the same though,” He protested, “One For All is meant to help people.” Shaking his head, Katsuki struggled to sit up taller, ignoring Izuku’s worried protests. He had to make Izuku understand this. It was something he’d realised pretty soon after All Might told them about the other wielders of Izuku’s power.

“Just fucking listen, okay. One For All is only as good as whoever uses it. Every one of its past users died alone, trying to stop All For One because they thought like you. They thought they had to fight that bastard on their own so no one else would get hurt, but that’s exactly why they all died.” He stared straight into Izuku’s eyes, willing him to realise it. “If you keep trying to win by yourself then you’ll get killed. You have to let other people help you.” “But what if you get hurt again? What if you get killed? I don’t want that to happen!” Izuku’s voice was insistent, his eyes were set in the way Katsuki could tell he was going to be stubborn about it and his own temper flared up in retaliation. “What, and you think I’ll be okay if you die?!” The words were out of his mouth before he could think about them but he felt the heat creeping into his face as he realised what he said. It did succeed in silencing Izuku however, and Katsuki took the opportunity to keep talking. “Even if you did manage to defeat All For One, it wouldn’t be a victory for any of us-” He willed himself to say it again, “For me, if you get killed.” The heat was now spreading down his neck and he dropped his head to avoid Izuku’s gaze, frustration or something else was making his own vision blurry. The other boy was quiet and Katsuki very much wanted to curl up in a hole somewhere and think about what he’d just said for a few years or so. He resented how difficult this was. Neither of them moved until Katsuki heard Izuku sniff. He looked up in surprise to see more tears on the boys face. Had he said something wrong? Katsuki started to move forward and opened his mouth but Izuku shook his head, rubbing the tears off his cheeks with his shoulder. “Sorry, Kacchan. I’m just-” He sounded hoarse but there was a soft smile on his face, “When I was fighting Shigaraki, all I could think about was what would happen to you and everyone else that I-” “That you didn’t think about yourself.” Katsuki finished with a sigh, “I fucking hate that about you. Can’t be a hero if you’re dead, can you?” He’d meant it to be a rebuke but Izuku’s smile widened even more and he laughed. A proper laugh, the first time Katsuki had heard in what felt like forever, and he couldn’t help but relax at the sound of it. Okay, this sucked and he felt itchy all over, but it was rewarding to see the enthusiasm return to Izuku’s face.

The laugh faded and Izuku returned to staring at Katsuki with such a fond expression that he felt a sharp twinge of guilt in his gut. He knew Izuku had only ever wanted to be close again, like how it had been when they were kids, and he was still waiting after everything that Katsuki had done to him. Part of him wished Izuku would just hate him, it would be easier to understand for one thing. “Kacchan, thank you.” The soft voice broke him out of his thoughts, “Everything All For One said to me…” He trailed off and stared at his arms, still thickly bandaged and splinted. “I thought I had gotten past it but it made me feel so useless. I guess I’m still just Deku.” He said it so sadly that Katsuki felt the twinge grow into a gut-wrenching pain. That stupid nickname. Izuku had tried to reclaim it but it seemed he didn’t really believe it himself. Katsuki probably could have pulled his heart right out of his throat at this point, “Well, duh, Deku. You said you were always gonna try your best, right?” He tried to make it sound casual, but he was admitting to something he'd known for a while. That Deku hadn't meant worthless for a very long time.

The look of surprise on Izuku’s face only lasted for a second before his eyes filled with tears yet again, his bottom lip trembling as he sobbed out, “Kacchan.” Then he was launching himself towards Katsuki who promptly stiffened in shock. It was an incredibly uncomfortable hug to manoeuvre, it would've been without the weird position. Izuku couldn’t lift his arms so he sort of squished himself against Katsuki’s side, face mashed between Katsuki’s shoulder and neck. Katsuki’s heart was going haywire, he didn’t even notice the pain in his side and very slowly, he wrapped his good arm around Izuku’s shoulders, patting him clumsily on the back as he cried against his collarbone. “You’re pathetic,” He mumbled, uncomfortable with the silence, “Moping around for days and making everyone worry, bastard.” Izuku laughed between deep breaths, trying to stifle his sobs. “Should’ve said something earlier.” Izuku twisted his head so it was laying on Katsuki’s shoulder, “You’re meant to be nice to me, I’m upset.” He said though Katsuki could feel his lips curved in a smile against his skin. His face felt like it was on fire now, “This is me being nice, and you’re always upset about something.” “I know, thank you.” The other replied. Katsuki’s skin tingled where Izuku’s eyelashes fluttered against his neck, still blinking away tears. Katsuki wasn’t sure what to say after that. It was complicated. He knew Izuku needed him right now, but Katsuki hadn’t done enough to deserve it yet. It felt wrong to be so content that he was the one Izuku reached out for. Just be there for him now, he decided, be there for him and try harder to earn it.

He wasn’t sure exactly when Izuku fell asleep on him. At some point, his breathing evened out and he’d relaxed against Katsuki’s side. The blonde was still too wired to relax. Who knew a conversation could fill him with such adrenaline, he was struggling not to shift around and wake Izuku up. The boy had looked so tired, with everything he’d been holding in it wasn’t a surprise that he’d not gotten any peace. Katsuki hoped he would sleep soundly now. He was still awake when Recovery Girl stepped back into the room. She took one look at the two of them, curled up together on Katsuki’s bed and he was sure she’d say something about how they should be resting in separate beds, maybe she had to check their wounds or something and Izuku would be forced to move. He couldn’t lie that the thought made him a bit panicked. But she simply gave him a strange look, one eyebrow half-raised as if she were asking him a question. When Katsuki didn’t move the old lady shrugged, turning to leave again. She flicked off the light as she did so, leaving the room in dappled shadows as the sun sank lower in the sky. Was it that late already? He hadn’t noticed the time passing by but he was starting to feel tired. Emotions were just as draining, sometimes more so, than being in a fight, and Katsuki certainly felt like a battle had been won in that room today.

With a sigh, Katsuki accepted there wasn’t much more he could do at the moment. The warmth of Izuku against his side made him feel drowsy and he finally gave in- shifting in the bed as carefully as he could until he was lying down. He wrapped his arm a little more firmly against Izuku and smiled faintly as he felt him hum in response, pressing closer to Katsuki’s chest. Izuku was lying on top of the sheets and there wasn’t any way to get him under them without waking him up but there was a spare pile of blankets that rested on the chair closest to Katsuki’s bed and he managed to drag a couple closer to him, draping them over Izuku’s form. With that sorted, Katsuki could relax. He rested his head gently against the mass of green curls and let his eyes drift shut, trying to empty his mind. It didn’t matter if All For One was out to get them or if Izuku’s arms wouldn’t heal right. They were both alive for now, and they would figure it out.

91 notes · View notes

askthekuvaqbrothers · 3 years ago

Text

It's all Fun and Games

(TW: Injury)

“I’m heading to work now.”

Hermes adjusted his coat, feeling a collision with his leg the moment he reached for the door.

“Don’t go!”

Holding in a small sigh, he knelt down and ran a hand through his son’s green hair.

“It will only be for a little while Cletus. Just be patient.”

“Then take me with you!”

“I’m going to work. It’s not a safe place for children.”

“I’ll be good! I’ll sit still!”

Hermes sighed, “You know if I take you, then the other two will want to come too.”

Cletus frowned, not at all pleased with what he was hearing, and frowned harder when his brothers came up behind him, Rufus prying at his arm.

“Come back, we can’t play Junk Knights and Orbit Pixies with only two!”

Hermes smiled, “See? You’ve obviously got a game going on. Time will fly while you’re playing, and I’ll be back before you know it.”

Argus joined in, pulling Cletus’ other arm, and successfully dislodging him from their father’s leg. Unimpeded, Hermes now took his chance to leave.

“Be good.”

The door clunked shut. Pulling from his brothers grasp, Cletus considered wailing on the door and crying for Hermes to come back, but the man’s long strides probably meant he was already far from the door, and crying was just grotty and exhausting. Besides, Rufus was already grabbing at him again.

“Back to you position pixie! I was just about to battle to the death against the evil Controller.”

“Yeah, you know it’s my favourite part.” Argus grinned, punching a fist into his palm.

“I don’t wanna. Let’s… play something else.”

Rufus pouted, crossing his arms, “Like what? It’s gotta be more fun than Junk Knights.”

“What about…” Cletus looked around the house, then to the door, before a devilish smirk grew, “Hide and Seek?”

“Lame!”

“-But we play it outside.”

Rufus’ eyes lit up, but Argus put his hands on his hips.

“We’re not allowed outside without Dad.”

“Yes, but he always takes ages with work, so as long as we’re back before him, he’ll never know.”

“Yes! Let’s gooo!”

Rufus ran straight to the window in the kitchen, being the only one that opened to let out the smoke that came with Hermes’ cooking. It required him to scramble up the cooking furnace, and once he was on top and at the windowsill, he paused to offer a hand.

“Hurry up! I already have a perfect hiding place!”

Argus stepped up, accepting the hand, and allowed himself to be pulled higher. As the space on the furnace became cramped, Rufus slipped out the window and Argus in turned helped pull Cletus (and the plush toy he never let go of) up. Once they’d cleared the fall, the three made their way to the centre of town, standing by one of Gizmo’s emergency call stations.

“Right! Since you wanted to change the game, Cletus, you’re the seeker.”

“Okay. I’ll close my eyes and count to a hundred then.”

The green haired boy adjusted Poisonous into the crook of his arm, then turned and began counting.

“One, two, three, four…”

With a grin Rufus sprinted off, vanishing into the warren of a town, Argus swiftly following after. When the sound of their steps on the metal walkways went silent, Cletus stopped counting.

“Finally.” He brought Poisonous to eye level, “Now, what should we do now that we have some peace and quiet?”

The plushie’s crooked eyes stared off.

“Impeccable idea. Perhaps we could even go for refreshments.”

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

It must have been almost half an hour later when Argus found Cletus lounging in the shade, absently patting his plush toy. He looked up, and tried to feign surprise when he spotted the glare.

“Oh, you found me?”

“I believe you were supposed to be the seeker.”

“Is that so? I must have misheard…”

“How long were you going to sit here?”

“Don’t know, how long were you hiding?”

Argus sighed, the one that made it known he was not in the mood to play along with Cletus’ game. The green haired boy pouted in turn.

“Well I caught on to your alternate game, but Rufus is still hiding.”

“…Can’t we just wait until Dad is back? He’ll come looking for us anyway.”

He looked up to where he could just make out the entrance to the mines. Argus followed his gaze and paused, thinking.

“I suppose that wouldn’t hurt. He can only ground us.”

Cletus relaxed, scooting over enough that Argus could have some shade too. Another hour passed by before they finally caught sight of Hermes striding out into the open, where the two chose to wave him down. When their father caught sight of them, he was clearly disappointed, until something else crept into his expression.

“Boys, what are you doing here? Where is your brother?!”

Cletus rolled his eyes, “Don’t worry, he’s probably still hiding from our hide-and-seek game.”

“How long ago was this?!” Hermes was quickly starting to panic, Rufus being the one he knew shouldn’t be left on his own, “We need to find him.”

“Sure, I guess so.” Argus stood, dusting himself off, “If we shout that he’s won he might come out?”

Cletus reluctantly stood as well, following his father and brother as they began calling out. Rufus not coming home honestly sounded like a good deal to him; no more being hit in his sleep, no more grubby fingers going through his stuff, more peace and quiet. Sure, Argus may start demanding more of him, but it wasn’t the worst trade off.

Another 30 minutes and there was still no sign of their red-haired sibling. There was also no signs of fire and/or explosive destruction, which was both a good and a bad sign according to Hermes. Good, in that they weren’t having to deal with a destroyed town, but bad in the question of what Rufus was up to instead.

“Maybe he fell asleep?”

“Maybe he fell in a hole. Maybe it’s a really deep hole, and we’ll never see him again.”

Hermes ignored Cletus’ comment, which cause the boy to frown. He didn’t understand what the big deal was, it was just Rufus. He’d heard people say that Hermes couldn’t handle three sons, so surely it would be better if he just had two now. They should just accept he was gone and go home. The sun was right above them now and the whole mountain the town was on had begun to boil, heat waves rising off every metal sheet used in its foundation, and Cletus could feel his pale skin begin to tingle-

“Found him!”

Argus was standing on a small mound, looking down into a ditch that wasn’t visible from just the normal paths. A large piece of metal on the edge of it was also free of rust, leaving it blindingly shiny and the prefect distractor. Hermes scrambled through the scrap to reach the hiding spot, dropping down to pick up the missing boy. As he re-emerged, Cletus felt his skin crawl.

Rufus’ skin looked almost the same colour as his hair, and in places it had clearly begun to blister. The idiot had been sitting in the sun the entire time, with both the sun beating down on him and the giant reflector next time him, and he hadn’t thought to move. As he was being jostled, said fool managed to crack open an eye.

“…n’fair, -in’t say Dad could help…”

To where he promptly went limp. With a semi-strangled noise, Hermes began to move back to town, giving a brief command to the other boys to follow as they beelined for Gizmo’s clinic.

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

“Heat stroke, and a nasty lot of sunburn. You know, there’s a wonderful thing called ‘common sense’…”

Hermes bowed his head further, ready to accept the usual lecture, but all he got was a sigh from the town’s medic as he returned to his desk.

“I’ve applied some salve to the burns, which will need to be re-applied regularly. I would like to say he’ll be bedridden for several days, but considering who we’re dealing with here, I suggest you enforce bed rest and make sure he doesn’t rub off the salve as it needs to set in. No running about, no going outside, no excessive play. And make sure he stays hydrated.”

Gizmo looked to the two healthy brothers, where while Argus nodded solemnly, Cletus’ gaze remained on the floor. There wasn’t any blame being passed about for why they were outside in the first place yet, but all Hermes had to do was ask and Argus would tell, and Cletus would find himself without dinner for the next week.

‘Stupid Rufus.’

Hermes thanked Gizmo, collected Rufus, and quietly told the other boys to follow. The whole trip home was in silence, and it was eating Cletus up inside. Even when they were inside, Argus watching over Rufus on the bed, Gizmo didn’t say anything, simply lighting the stove and beginning dinner. Cletus sat himself at the table, distractedly plucking at Poisonous’ threads, running over the many possible punishments that could be unjustly given to him. It wasn’t his fault Rufus was an idiot with no self-preservation, if he’d just hidden somewhere normal and safe then they’d all get off with just a grounding but no, he had to get himself hurt and make it a big deal and all the blame would fall on poor little Cletus for just wanting some peace and quiet-

“Are you not hungry?”

Cletus jumped, completely unaware time had passed to the point that dinner was in front of him, Argus and Hermes seated beside him.

“I-I…”

He didn’t understand why their father hadn’t asked yet. In fact, he only felt more confused when a hand rested on his head, soothingly running through his hair.

“It’s alright, I know it was kind of scary to see, but Rufus will be fine.”

This was wrong. That wasn’t his hang-up at all. Sure his own skin crawled at the sight of him now, but that wasn’t the issue. Was he really not going to ask why they were outside of the house, where he always told them not to be?

He stared into his bowl, before suddenly pushing away from the table.

“Are… are you not going to ask?”

Hermes tilted his head, “Ask?”

“W-why we were outside, why we hadn’t listened to you?” Cletus trembled, a confused jumble of emotions swirling within.

Argus eyed him, “…He wants to know why you haven’t punished us yet.”

“Punish-? Oh. Oh boys.”

Hermes carefully moved to kneel by Cletus, pulling him into a hug, before he offered an arm out for Argus to join. With two sons in his embrace, he let out a breath.

“Yes, I am disappointed you ignored my rules, and that it had led to injury, but more than that, I’m just thankful you’re all still here. I never thought I’d have a time in my life to be a father, but after everything, I now can’t imagine myself without you three.”

He squeezed them both tightly.

“I just hope that this world will last for you…”

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

“OW! DAAAAD!”

“Cletus, don’t poke you brother.”

“But he’s trying to lick the salve again! This is the only way to stop him.”

Cletus turned back to Rufus, only to see his brothers tongue going once again for the back of his hand, so he yanked at his bright red ear.

“OW!”

Now with a dollop on his finger, Cletus sniffed at the medicinal mixture, almost daring to taste it himself.

“It doesn’t even smell that nice.”

“It smells like a plant I bit once!”

There were many things Cletus could have questioned, but he didn’t get the chance as Argus came into the house.

“Gizmo said this should help.”

Hermes accepted what Argus handed him, and after turning it over in hand, he realised how it worked. With a reluctant sigh, he knelt before Rufus, and swiftly wrapped what was essentially a plastic cone around his neck. The boy squirmed, not coordinated enough to dislodge the device, before he accepted fate.

Neither of his brothers could resist laughing at the sight.

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

Bonus: The scribble that inspired this

#Deponia #Rufus #Cletus #Argus #Hermes #Kuvaq Brothers #Gizmo #Injury #Sunburn #Back when I was musing on when I foolishly got sunburnt a few months ago

21 notes · View notes

arknights-imagines · 4 years ago

Note

Broca for Chrismas special! Loved how you portrayed him in that one piece you wrote, and I'm honestly starving for more content with him,,,

From, Broca

Christmas Letter and Gift event

Early in the day, you head to your mailbox to pick up whatever documents are left there, but you instead discover a small cube-shaped box and a brown envelope. Curiously enough, you don't remember ordering anything, nor were you expecting any kind of package. You bring them back to your office nevertheless, inspecting them on your way.

There’s no names or anything of the sort on the box nor the envelope - where were these coming from? Upon reaching your office, you shut the door and sit at your desk immediately, placing the box on your desktop while keeping the envelope in your hands.

It’s paper is rough and the envelope gives off an almost intimidating feel; after again confirming that there’s nothing on the front or back of the envelope, you tear it open to reveal a slightly wrinkled sheet of paper. You blink; that wasn't exactly what you were expecting from such a mysterious envelope, but when you completely remove the paper from its casing and unfold it, it all makes a little more sense.

It’s a letter - the paper has clearly been fidgeted with quite a bit, in fact, it even looks like it was crumpled into a ball only to be smoothed out as best as possible, a sign that the sender was having doubts or conflicting feelings. But of more importance is the small yet bold handwriting that makes up the body of the letter; the printing is so distinctive that in an instant you know who your mysterious sender is.

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

Morning. Or, afternoon, depending on whenever you decide to read this.

Good grief...no way of backing out now.

I don’t like Christmas. What’s there to like? The weather outside makes it impossible to do anything, the air smells too sweet, all the lights are irritatingly bright and the carols everyone sings sound like a broken record with how repetitive they are.

So when Chiave and Aosta asked me what I was getting you for Christmas, I was convinced that they had utterly lost it and answered them explaining how I wouldn't be giving you anything special for such a laughable occasion.

Their reactions to my own reaction were unnecessary, if you ask me: Chiave was somehow a little offended, and Aosta looked confused. One of them insisted I had to get you something because we were...lovers, which was so ridiculous I almost got up and left the room completely. I reminded them that I had no reason to, and then Aosta looked me directly in the eye and said something.

“You had no reason to become so close to them either.”

Tch, a bold claim. But when I thought about it….he’s right. Why I let you in and allowed something to form between us, I don’t exactly know, but I don’t particularly care, because I don't at all regret my choice. My reasoning behind everything I’ve done for you is that you mean...a lot to me. When I imagined the face you might make if you received a gift from me...good grief, who said you were allowed to cause my heart to beat so fast?

Even if I were to get you a gift, it wasn't as if I had anything suitable to give to you.

Aosta suggested a letter. A stupid idea, considering I’m not particulary fond of using words for much of anything, but between myself, him and Chiave, it was the only feasible one.

So, next time you see him, you should really say ‘thank you’.

Christmas...didn't particularly celebrate it in Siracusa. The Mafia weren't a very festive organization. I’ve never needed to write Christmas letters or think about Christmas gifts - good grief, coming to Rhodes Island really has been a hefty change for me. Never thought I’d be writing a holiday letter to my...lover. Tch, that word…

[Name]. Even now it’s hard for me to believe that I care so intensely for you. The only people I’ve had these many feelings for are Aosta and Chiave, but even the way I feel toward them is nothing like the jumbled pile of emotions you cause in me.

Though everything, I want to stand with you. I want to protect you, I want to be alone with you. Tch...it’s selfish of me, but sometimes all I want to do is get away from the corruption of this world and hold you in my arms.

You should pat yourself on the back - if not for your continuous efforts to grow closer to me, we would still be strangers. I might’ve been the one who let my walls fall to allow you closer to me, but, you were the one who had the courage to approach me despite everything you had heard. Because of you, I feel like I have a place at Rhodes Island.

Don’t know if I ever thanked you for that…so thanks.

Good grief, to be honest...I’m not really doing all of this because it’s Christmas. I just think...it’s about time I use something to express this adoration I feel for you. Tch, again with all these words I never thought I’d be using.

Didn't think I would end up getting you something, but besides the fact that Chaive was so annoyingly persistent in asking me about it that I changed my decision so he left me alone, your face kept forcing its way into my mind everytime I told myself I wouldn't be giving you anything.

This gift and this letter aren't about Christmas. They're about you and I. They're my best attempt in expressing how much I...care about you and want you to be happy. [Name], I’ve told you before - I will do anything you ask, because ‘for you’ is more than a good enough reason in my mind. But when it comes to fulfilling materialistic or emotional wants, I’m not very skilled.

If someday you decide the happiest place for you isn't with me, then very well. But until then, I will try my hardest to make you feel at ease - tch, even if it makes my face red and my heart race.

This whole Christmas letter thing...didn't go as bad as I thought it would. I’m not particularly eloquent, but me writing this to you...good grief, I’m probably going to be thinking about you reading this hours from now.

I have no intent in wasting your time. Careful with your gift, and...tch, when you can, come see me. Love you.

Broca

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

Heart still feeling fuzzy from the letter, you hurriedly transfer your attention to the small cube box again; heeding Broca’s advisement to be cautious when handling it, you cut open the tape sealing its lid carefully, eyes full of eagerness as you open the package.

From inside the box comes a miniature, carefully crafted model of yourself, a smile on its face. Every detail, from the patterns on your Rhodes Island jacket to the colour of your eyes are captured perfectly. Your lips upturn to mirror the warm grin the model of you wears as you hold it carefully in your palm - this was Broca’s work, quite obviously. His effort can really be felt, and beyond that, you’re surprised with how every one of your features are portrayed in such a captivating manner; your chest explodes with warmth at the both fact that he worked so hard on something just for you, and the realization that Broca really does view you with more warmth than he has ever felt toward anyone else.

Placing the miniature model on your desk carefully, you return to the box, turning it upside down and giving it a few shakes; a folded up sheet of paper falls from inside the box and onto your lap, causing you to blink.

Your fingers unfold it, and your eyes light up once more at the sight of Broca’s handwriting again, ‘Merry Christmas, [name]. The gift...tch, just take it. Don't particularly need anything in return.’ Though the first sentences are a little cold, the ones that follow after prompt you to stand and rush out your door wearing a smile, with Broca as your destination; ‘[Name]...good grief, this is bordering on begging but don't go. At one point, you meant nothing to me, but now...I don't think I’d be happier anywhere else but by your side.’

#broca appreciation 🥺👉👈#arknights #arknights imagines #broca arknights #arknights x reader #arknights doctor #arknights broca #arknights imagine #arknights writing #arknights fanfic #christmas event #imagine #imagines #writing

82 notes · View notes

lunarmessenger · 4 years ago

Note

Can u do prompt 52 with either Saeyoung or (GE) Saeran saying it to MC/the reader? I have adhd so i tend to ramble and im always nervous that im annoying and talk too much, especially since i tend to repeat myself in order to rephrase what i've said in a more understandable way... if that makes sense. That last bit's probably irrelevant haha... ^^"

Ah- see what i mean? Lol... anyways it hits close to home and i would appreciate either of the choi twins -- or both! But i dont wanna burden you with too much haha, so just whoever works out better for you :)

Love your writing <3 <3

Of course!! My fiancée has ADHD as well, and I can’t imagine how it feels sometimes. Her little quirks that she has though because of her ADHD are adorable though, and I’m sure yours are just the same, honey. I’ll do both just for you! - luna xx

707

You sat behind Saeyoung as he worked at his computer, small bags beginning to form underneath his eyes from lack of sleep. He was handed a rather difficult job by Jumin that required some complex fire walls on a new program, his brows furrowing every now and then as he mumbled underneath his breath.

Being with him meant that there would be weeks, almost a month or two of distance due to his projects, and you knew this going into it. Yet, there were times that you couldn’t help but have your little impulsive moments and unfortunately, this was one of them.

A small giggle left your lips as you found a meme on your phone, looking up towards Saeyoung who was still busy typing away.

“Saeyoung...is it alright for you to take a quick look...?” You softly mumbled, the tone of your voice making him do a soft smile as he peeled his eyes away from the screen.

“Sure, MC. What is it?” You excitedly showed him, the two of you laughing as he pat your head.

“That was a good one! Let me know if you see anymore.” He meant well by saying that, really he did. But he didn’t think that you were going to pull him away every five minutes to show him a meme; some of them he didn’t really find as funny as you but laughed anyway. With each meme you showed him came a mini tangent of a memory, or event that it reminded you of, the sound of your voice bouncing around his brain.

It got to the point where you were so excited that you didn’t even wait for his confirmation, pulling on his jacket sleeve as you shoved your phone towards him. The action caused him to mistype, causing him to lose about half an hour’s worth of work. He couldn’t help it; his brain had been battling between listening to what you were saying while doing his work that he just...broke.

“Ah! MC! Why did you do that?!” He snapped, brows furrowed as he looked down at you on the floor. You twitched from the sudden tone of voice, eyes wide with worry as you looked between the monitor and his face.

“What...I...what happened?”

“I pressed the wrong key and now...! I’ve just lost so much work; I have to do it all over again!” He groaned, slamming his hands down on his desk before hanging his head and gripping his hair. You immediately stood up, phone tucked away in your back pocket as you used your hands to grip your arms.

The guilt made a couple of tears pool in your eyes, purposely avoiding his irritated gaze as you looked down.

“I’m sorry I...I let my excitement get the best of me. I didn’t mean to be annoying and mess you up honestly I...I’m sorry!” His irritated look quickly melted at your hurt tone, his hands reaching for you right as you dashed down the hall to get to your shared bedroom.

“MC!” You slammed the door behind you, running to the bed and burying yourself under the covers. You couldn’t be mad at him; if anything you were more mad at yourself for not keeping your actions in check. After a few minutes you heard the door open, biting your lip as you kept your eyes shut.

Slowly the covers were pulled away, and you felt his warm arms snake around your waist and pull you close. He burrowed his face in your neck, his lips pressing a soft kiss to the warm area as he sighed.

“I don’t think you’re annoying…I know…I don’t…I really like listening to and hearing what you have to say even if its a lot sometimes..” His voice drifted off as he continued. “I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I promise after this project I’ll take a break so we can have some time together, okay?” He mused, and that alone was enough to make you turn over in his arms and look at him.

“Are you sure?” He smiled, his eyes full of warmth as he nodded and pressed a kiss to your lips.

“I’m sure. I promise, MC.”

Saeran

The both of you had joined Zen and Yoosung for a day in the park; Saeran was still a little wary with everyone so you wanted to soften up the awkwardness with small get togethers. It was a picnic type deal; Zen and Yoosung were passing a soccer ball back and forth a few feet away while Saeran helped you set up all the food.

“Guys! Food is ready! Come eat!” The two immediately ran to the blanket, Saeran handing out the small plates you’d packed with some silverware.

“Thanks! I’m so excited, I bet you make the best food MC!” Yoosung exclaimed, hurriedly filling his plate with some food while Zen chuckled and offered you a small smile.

“Yeah; I’m really happy we get to try some of your cooking.”

“Aw, thanks guys.” The praise made you blush while Saeran took your hand in his, sending you a soft smile as he nodded.

“I can confirm; they are truly an amazing cook.” All of you chatted endlessly; you were so engrossed in the conversation that you hadn’t realized that Saeran was slowly drifting from the conversation. It wasn’t that he was suddenly disinterested; it’s just that he was still struggling with his mental health, and sometimes too many voices all at once became too much.

“MC...?” He piped up softly, but he went unheard as Yoosung cracked a joke, all of you laughing together while Saeran shut his eyes to try and focus. He was overstimulated, and his thoughts became jumbled as he struggled to get the right words out without hurting anybody’s feelings.

“MC.” This time he was more firm, but still you weren’t hearing him. He grew frustrated, biting his lip as he tried to take deep breaths. Zen had barely noticed Saeran was trying to speak, about to tell you and Yoosung to calm down. But it was too late, Saeran’s voice coming out as a yell as he finally caught your attention.

“MC! Can you please stop talking for five seconds?” Everyone froze as you stopped, looking at Saeran as he looked away. The light mood was suddenly filled with tension, his leg bouncing from anxiety while you cleared your throat.

“Sorry, Saeran...” You trailed off, Zen and Yoosung awkwardly putting their empty plates down and grabbing the soccer ball.

“We um..we’re going to kick this around for a bit. Come join us if you want to.” Zen spoke up, making eye contact with you. You furrowed your brows as he gestured his head towards Saeran who was fiddling with his fingers now. You gave a slight nod back to him, turning towards Saeran and gently taking his hands in yours.

“I’m sorry, Saeran. I should have realized, I...I didn’t realize I was being annoying.” Your choice of words made his head shoot up in anger, brows furrowed as he furiously shook his head.

“No, MC! I don’t think you’re annoying…I know…I don’t…I really like listening to and hearing what you have to say even if its a lot sometimes..” He let out a sigh, leaning his head against your shoulder as he continued speaking. “I just get overwhelmed. I appreciate you setting up these little gatherings so I can get to know everybody better, but sometimes it can be a bit too much if they’re not spaced out.”

“I’m sorry that I couldn’t express myself properly. I promise that I won’t snap at you like that again. Maybe we can come up with like...a code word? I don’t know...” He trailed off as he blushed, a small giggle leaving your lips as you cupped his face in your hand.

“Of course. How about we pack up and go home? We can talk about it more then.” You suggested, and that was enough to ease his anxiety as he pressed a small kiss to your cheek.

“Thank you, MC.”

95 notes · View notes

rosepetalmark · 5 years ago

Text

flowers in your hair

↬ Johnny Suh x Reader ↬1.8k Words ↬Your allergies and creating art are two things Johnny holds dear to his heart

You hated the outdoors. Anything to do with bugs, dirt, and even plants made you itch and sneeze and scared that you’ll get some rare unknown disease and die because the innocent looking flower you picked by the bench turned out to be poisonous.

Johnny on the other hand, enjoyed nature and embraced it to its fullest. Every day he’d make time to bask in the grass, and soak up all the sun while working on his latest art inspiration.

Today, he decided that sitting in a field full of sunflowers would be ideal for his newest project, and what would make it more worthwhile and perfect was if you, his girlfriend were with him to occupy his time and add further enjoyment to his favourite hobby.

Horrible idea on his part because you’re allergic to flowers, and tall fields of grass would most likely break you out into hives and have you coughing up a lung. Johnny wouldn’t bat an eye though, because despite loving you with all his heart, he had a knack for making fun of you and the simplest inconveniences that occurred within your life.

He always says you’re over dramatic when it comes to your “spring allergies” and that nothing like some water and the fresh air will clear your mind and nasal passages.

He’s a dumbass, and he really will be the reason you die one day.

But Johnny didn’t care, because as long he had you, a bottle of allergy medicine for your sneezing and itching, and his paintbrushes, he was content, even if you spent a great amount of your time in this damn sunflower field teary eyed and stuffy nosed.

“Johnny, please tell me we can leave soon, I'm itching way more now than I did when i had the chickenpox as a kid,” you whine, rubbing your hands across your bare arms to provide you with any relief as you watched the bees swarm past you in their search for some nectar in the flowers nearby.

“Mhm,” he whispers, continuing to stroke the paintbrush across the now detailed page, completely oblivious to the words that just left your mouth.

This always happened. Whenever he took you somewhere new, he’d completely block out the world, yourself included, in order to capture the essence of life whether it be through his camera or canvas.

Of course there was silence, why wouldn’t there be. Every time Johnny asks you to accompany him anywhere outdoors, you always think you’re going to explore and embrace nature, and every single time you are wrong, because the second you find something beautiful to look at, he sets his small backpack down and busts out either his camera or painting utensils to capture it.

You’d say it pissed you off at times, but art is his passion, and you’d never do anything to get in the way he feels so alive and free whenever he consumes himself with something as minuscule and simple as a paperclip. He finds the beauty in anything and everything, never ceasing to amaze you with the wonderful creations he illustrates.

“Johnny,” you say a little louder, unamused with the silence you receive, and the continuous strokes he continues to make on the page.

You call his name again, and again, and again, and it’s only the third time when you yell out his full name, that he finally drops the brush on his palette and focuses his attention on you.

“Were you not listening to me?” You question, seriously surprised that out of all the times you’ve called his name, he either completely ignored you or has gone def within his 25 years of life.

“Oh, I was listening,” he hums, raising his eyebrows whilst providing you with his staple cheeky grin, one he always does when he wants to get on your nerves.

Always a cocky one that guy, and how you manage to stay dating him truly blows your mind.

Sighing, you focus your gaze away from the way he picks up his paintbrush again and gently strokes baby blue across the page, looking towards the tall stocks of sunflowers gently breezing in the wind a few feet away from you.

“You’re such a crappy boyfriend,” you chuckle, picking up one of the untouched pastel crayons and examining its fluorescent blue hue. “You never pay attention to me.”

“I never pay attention to you, hm?” He asks, causing you to stare back at his now stoic stature, face still focusing on his notebook and nowhere on you, but more contoured and rigid this time.

“Well, you’re speaking to me now yet your attention is never on me, always on whatever you’re painting or drawing,” your tone slightly angered.

Obviously you were lying. Johnny was the most attentive boyfriend you could ever ask for, always checking in on you and ensuring your day goes smoothly, always hanging out with you when he’d rather be napping or out painting or doing photography, and almost always is down to make out with you whenever the opportunity arises.

You just like to pull his leg most of the time because it’s funny seeing how riled up he gets when he believes that you think he’d rather focus on his hobbies over having conversations with you.

“Here,” he signals, shoving his book in your direction, encouraging you to look through the worn out leather book he kept hidden for months, wanting you to see what he has been working on secretly whenever you were together.

Confused, you run your fingers along the enclosed ribbon on the cover of the sketchbook, hesitant to allow yourself in the work he’s immersed himself in for hours whenever the beauty in nature took over his attention span away from you.

Raising his eyebrows, he nods in a manner that demands you open the book. “If I don’t pay any attention to you, look through the book.”

Untying the string , you decide that whatever is in this book isn’t a secret anymore, because it wouldn’t even be in your hands if Johnny didn’t practically throw it at you to shut you and your curiosity up.

The first few pages are beautiful, really. He has a way with his sketches, always seeming so simple yet so realistic you’d think they were actual pictures edited just to appear more striking to the eye.

“Nature really is what inspires you hm?,” you ask, more of a rhetorical question because you already know the answer that’ll come from his mouth.

Chuckling, he brings his body closer to yours so his chin is resting on your shoulder, watching as you delicately turn the pages of his book. “Yeah, but there’s something more encapsulating that ends up being my muse, just keeping looking through.”

Golden sunflowers, vibrant pink sunsets, the giant pumpkin you both visited at the fall fair last year, everything you two experienced together when hanging out was documented in this book and reinvented through his drawings or paintings of them.

And then you saw a sketch of yourself. At first you thought it was cute, because he’d always draw you and all your other friends whenever he got bored. But four pages later all you found were several pages filled with you, ranging from when when he placed different coloured tulips in your hair that one time you went on a walk in the new community garden not far from your favourite ice cream shop, or when you experimented with makeup and put glitter all over your eyebrows.

Every moment you deemed minuscule and fun was captured so deeply in Johnny’s eyes, that he decided to relive it all again through the many strokes and colours that seamlessly came together to create something so beautiful.

Your breath was absolutely taken away.

You always thought nature is what captured Johnny’s attention the most, but turns out it’s always been you.

“I’m. Wait Johnny this is so-,” you begin to say, but your words become jumbled and your emotions a tangled mess, leaving you with tears in your eyes and so much more love for him in your heart than you’d ever had before, all because he drew some pictures of you.

“Do you like them?” he questions, raising his eyebrows, awaiting your answer of approval, his question only promoting the waterworks to begin and your head to aggressively nod.

You place the notebook gently on the blanket you two were sitting on, and crawl into his lap, pressing your body closer to his as you wrap your arms around his neck.

They were absolutely perfect. He was perfect.

Everything Johnny Suh says and does is absolutely incredible and you’re so incredibly lucky to be dating the cheesiest, most loving goofball the earth has to offer. Even if he’s a giant pain in your ass 97% of the time.

Pecking his cheek, you stare into his gleaming brown orbs. “I absolutely love them, Mr. Johnny Suh, and I love you a million times more.”

Tightening your arms around his neck, you couldn’t help but embrace this moment for much longer. You don’t care that you’re five seconds away from bursting into hives and that your throat feels like it’s closing up. Holding on to your very sweet, thoughtful boyfriend for as long as you could right in this moment was all that mattered to you.

“I was joking by the way, I know you care about me alot and pay more attention than most boyfriends would and I appreciate you tremendously.” You could start to feel the tears well up in the corners of your eyes, because you honestly don’t know what you’d do without Johnny.

He was your best friend, and has been such an uplifting, inspiring person ever since he entered your life your freshman year of college, the thought of him not being in your life one day was a scary thought you never wanted to come true.

“I love you always.”

“I know babe”, he whispered, kissing your cheek and running his fingers delicately through your hair, trying to calm you down as he could sense you were feeling rather overwhelmed.

“I wouldn’t keep dragging you to places you hated if I knew you didn’t love me,” he exclaimed, bursting out into a loud, body shaking laugh that provided you with the comfort to let your tears go, and laugh in unison with him.

Lifting you off his lap, Johnny grabs his art supplies and gently places them in his bag, grabbing your hand and pulling you up from the dry, matted grass you were both sitting on.

“Where are you dragging me?”

“Back to my place.” He winks, quickly pecking your lips before intertwining his fingers with yours, pulling you into the direction of his car.

“It wouldn’t be romantic to be making out with my girlfriend that I love very much in a sunflower field if she kept sneezing in my face, wouldn’t it?”

#johnny scenarios #johnny seo #johnny suh #nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct scenario #nct 127 scenarios #kpop scenarios #johnny nct #nct fluff #nct soft hours #johnny suh scenarios #nct au #nct 127 au #johnny fic #nct fic #nct blurb #johnny blurb

442 notes · View notes

toosicktoocare · 4 years ago

Text

Still playing with this ATLA Benders College AU, and still just rolling with it.

ATLA Benders College AU

Snippet 2: And They Were Roommates

Setting: Junior Year, Sokka and Zuko

Find Snippet 1, Warmth Beyond a Bonfire, here!

The bursting heat inside Zuko is diminishing as the sun begins its slow descent below the horizon, casting the sky in a swirl of orange and pink. The heat, once all encompassing, is slowly being replaced with cold fatigue, and he knows he should stop before it gets too dark, but his muscles, though tired, are prickling with a burning need, so he keeps bending, sending bursts of flames from his hands and his feet across the water.

“Zuko.”

He pretends he doesn’t hear, pushing his muscles harder, sending hotter waves of fire forward. He can feel his bones twinge, trembling under hot exertion, but he keeps going because his mind is a mess of fear, regret, and shame, and bending is the only thing he can do to quiet his inner voice, if only temporary.

“Zuko, I saw the letter with the dorm assignment.”

His lungs swell hot, and all at once, they expel icy air as he sends one, final ball of flame out toward the water, watching the reflection of harsh oranges and reds ripple atop the water. He drops to the ground with a huff, hands and feet tingling as if asleep, and he extends his bare feet forward, just close enough where the tide can brush cool water against his toes.

Iroh slowly lowers himself to the ground beside Zuko, groaning of the aches and pops of his old bones the whole way down. “The water bender’s brother.”

Zuko draws his knees up to his chest, sighing softly, and he drops his head atop one knee, his hair dropping forward to cover his face. “And Aang’s best friend.”

“Ah, yes, I do remember Sokka taking quite a swing at you after the Bender Tournament. Though, his technique was rather poor, if you ask me.”

“Uncle,” Zuko groans, squeezing his eyes shut as the memory of Sokka’s screaming and cursing whips almost painfully across his mind.

He remembers Sokka’s shaking, raised fist flying toward his jaw, and he recalls how easily he dodged it, moving on autopilot. That’s when things get a little jumbled. He can vaguely make out Aang, bruised and bloody, pulling Sokka away from him, and then he remembers his father, a looming, dark cloud of smoke billowing before him, and then, everything grows a little fuzzy around the edges, as if his mind is trying to rewrite the past from the outside in.

“Well,” Iroh starts, leaning back to take in the ocean view, “it could be worse. They could have put you with Aang.”

“Uncle!” Zuko whips a sharp gaze up to see Iroh laughing beside him, a warm sound that gets lost along the ocean breeze.

“I can’t see how this is even remotely funny.” Zuko spits out, pulling his gaze back toward the dipping sun. “I’m going to drop out.”

“Now, Zuko, there’s no need for the dramatics. I’m sure it will all work out just fine.”

Zuko drops his head back down to his knee with a groan. “You always say that, but I don’t see how that’s possible, not with what I’ve done…” His voice cracks, and he clears his throat, swallowing thickly, wincing as shame tastes vile on his tongue.

“Well, dropping out is certainly not an option.”

He lifts his head. “Transfer?”

“Kindness, Zuko.”

Zuko rolls his eyes as Iroh gets to his feet and pulls Zuko up with him.

“Being nice isn’t going to fix what I’ve done to them, Uncle.” Zuko falls into step with Iroh as they start back toward the small beachside shack Iroh’s taken up as his new home.

“You think that for every problem, there’s an immediate solution, but that’s not the case. It’s not a scratch you can slap a band-aid on and call it day, Zuko. Think of it like a tea bag instead.”

Zuko slips into a chair at the small kitchen table, annoyed confusion painted across his face as Iroh pours hot water from the kettle into a teacup and places it before him.

“Think of this hot water as Sokka, who’s steaming, angry, and quick to hurt you if you get too close.”

“Okay,” Zuko draws out slowly, both brows arched as Iroh drops a tea bag into the cup.

“Now, this teabag needs to steep until all the flavors fully come out, and that takes time. In that time, the water begins to cool down until it will no longer burn if you drink it.”

“Am I the teabag in this metaphor?” Zuko teases lightly, and Iroh gives him a light smack on the back of his head.

“You can’t put a teabag in a piping hot cup of water and expect it to immediately taste good, right? It takes patience, just as it will take patience with Sokka. You shouldn’t walk into this dorm assignment expecting to apologize and put the past behind you. You’ll need to earn Sokka’s trust, and you can start by showing him kindness. You can’t erase your past, Zuko, but, for the first time in a long time, you’re the one holding the pen to your future.”

Zuko reaches out to grab the teacup in front of him, drawing his hand back with a sharp hiss when Iroh smacks it with a dish towel.

“Patience, Zuko! It’s still too hot!”

A warm smile pulls at Zuko’s lips, and he absently rubs at his hand while looking over his shoulder to Iroh. “Thanks, Uncle.”

***

Zuko’s nerves are shot, ripped to pieces, as he paces the length of the dorm’s living room, his bags neatly piled beside the couch because he wasn’t sure which of the two rooms Sokka would prefer, and he didn’t want to assume in case he assumed incorrectly. He rubs up and down his arms, feeling oddly chilled, and he moves back and forth, back and forth, the repetition being the only thing that’s keeping him grounded in the present.

He pauses beside a window, glancing out just beyond the quad. He considers leaving to find a wide, open area free of students where he can bend, wishing to chase this mounting fear with fire, but the thought, though already short, comes to an abrupt halt when he hears an all-too familiar voice growing closer and closer until it’s just outside the door.

“Be kind,” he mutters to himself. “You are a teabag, and you are kind.” He smooths his hands down his shirt, swallows thickly around the tight lump that’s made itself at home in his throat the moment Iroh pulled up to the campus hours ago, and cards his fingers through his hair, pushing his bangs away from his eyes. “Kind,” he reminds himself as he spins around just as the door opens, a small, hesitant smile pulling at his lips.

Sokka’s expression is unreadable. Zuko tries to dissect how the almost perfectly rounded ‘oh’ form of Sokka’s mouth fits in with the sharp furrow of his brows, the two contradicting each other and leaving him rather confused.

“Hi,” he tries, voice cracking slightly. He clears his throat. “Um, hey,” he takes a few, hesitant steps forward, “can I help you with your bags?”

Sokka remains almost frozen in place, and Zuko spares a glance down toward Sokka’s feet, briefly considering some water bender pulling a prank and icing Sokka’s feet to the floor, but the floor is dry at Sokka’s feet. “Um, Sokka,” he presses, reaching one hand out but stopping short, “are you okay?”

Sokka finally closes his mouth, and Zuko can’t help the muted sigh of relief that puffs from his lungs.

“What room is yours?”

“I haven’t picked,” Zuko starts quickly, motioning toward his own bags. “I wanted to wait and see which you preferred.”

“I want the one closest to the door,” Sokka mutters, and Zuko nods, understanding, though, he can’t help the small bite of hurt that flicks at his chest. Still, he gets it, and he wordlessly steps aside as Sokka struggles with his bags to the first room down the small hall, flinching when Sokka slams the door closed with his foot.

He waits for a few minutes, listening, unsure what to do, until he hears music blaring from inside the room. He takes that as his cue and begins moving his bags into the second room at the end of hall. The hot, prickling itch to bend through his frustration spikes up his fingers, but she shakes the pushing heat out of his hands and starts unpacking.

***

New Message From Uncle: Well, how did it go?

Zuko starts typing, stops, deletes everything, begins again, stops again, a pattern he’s struggling to free himself from. He first considers lying, but he knows Iroh will be able to read right through it, even through text. He considers the truth, but he’s not even sure what the truth is.

It’s been two hours since Sokka showed up, and he’s only heard Sokka leave his room once, for about thirty minutes, before returning. He starts typing again and almost drops his phone when Iroh’s call startles him.

“Hi, Uncle,” he says into the speaker, dropping his head back against his headboard.

“I was getting tired of watching you type and stop and type and stop.”

“Sorry,” Zuko mutters, throat suddenly dry. “How are you? Did you stop for the night already?”

“I didn’t call you to talk about me, Zuko. How’s it going with Sokka?”

“Honestly,” Zuko draws out, “I don’t really—” A knock on his door has his mouth snapping shut tightly.

“What was that?”

“Um, hey, Zuko? You in there?”

“I’ve got to go, Uncle,” Zuko spits out quickly, words tumbling off his tongue. He ends the call and stumbles off his bed, tripping over his own feet as he quickly crosses the room. He doesn’t mean to all but throw the door open, but he does, and Sokka jumps back, startled.

“Shit, sorry,” he mutters, swallowing around the crack in his voice. “What, um, what’s up?” He makes to lean against the doorframe, hoping his posture screams casual since his face and voice are currently betraying him.

Sokka drops his back against the wall opposite Zuko’s door, and he crosses his arms, eyes narrow, studious, and Zuko wants to shrink away from the scrutinizing gaze, wondering how come the wall he’s leaning against has yet to open up and swallow him whole.

“What are you doing?”

“I was just on the phone with my uncle,” Zuko sputters out, coughing absently into his shoulder.

“Iroh?”

Zuko doesn’t know how to take the sudden look of surprise that’s washed over Sokka’s face, yet, still, he nods as his answer, not at all surprised that many people are familiar with his family, with all sides of his family. “I stayed with him over the summer, and he dropped me off earlier today. He was checking in.” He’s not sure why he’s prattling on, but he can’t seem to stop.

“You didn’t go home for the summer?”

“I… I didn’t want to… after the tournament.” Zuko cast his eyes to the floor, his bangs masking his eyes. He wraps him arms around himself tightly, his fingers digging into his arms, and for just a moment, he’s pulled back to May, to the end of the tournament, back at his dorm where his father was shouting at his uncle, something about how much of a disappointment he was and how he could have had it all had he not thrown the tournament.

“Earth to Zuko.”

He pulls a quick gaze up to see Sokka looking at him with the faintest hint of concern. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you wanted to watch a movie.” Sokka starts down the hall, and Zuko stumbles after him, pausing at the opening of the living room to see that Sokka’s taken the bare-bones room and turned it into, what feels like, a real living room, with pillows on each end of the couch, an impressive movie collection displayed on a shelf beside the TV, various pictures and posters hung up on the walls, and fairy lights draping across the ceiling.

“You did all this?” Zuko asks quietly, and Sokka grins at him, a wide grin he’s only seen reserved for Katara and Aang, and he feels a warm heat coating his cheeks.

“Unpacked, decorated, and ordered pizza.” Sokka motions to the pizza box on the coffee table. “Felt good to stretch after a long flight.” He starts toward the movies, plucking a few off the shelf. “Are you thinking classic or modern?”

“Sokka.”

“Yeah?” Sokka doesn’t look at him, and Zuko sighs quietly, arms hugging himself once more.

“Should we talk about—”

“—about how you terrorized me, my sister, and my best friend for an entire year and about how you almost killed my best friend at the Bender Tournament? Probably.”

Wincing, Zuko backs into a wall, a small shudder running through him. He watches as Sokka makes a choice and moves to some gaming console he doesn’t recognize.

“But, I don’t think we need to unpack all of that right now.” Sokka slips the disc into his PS4 and finally turns toward Zuko, frowning at Zuko’s hunched in posture, looking as if Zuko’s intentionally trying to fold into the wall at his back.

“Look, we’re both tired, and while this is definitely a conversation we need to have, I don’t think we need to have it tonight.”

Again, Zuko can’t quite pinpoint the look on Sokka’s face, and if he wasn’t so conflicted, he’d be a little annoyed that he can’t get a read on Sokka’s mood or intentions. He watches as Sokka sags against the couch with a loud sigh, briefly leaning forward to snag a slice of pizza.

“Are you going to watch the movie from back there? Because that’s a little creepy, dude.”

Zuko shuffles over to the couch, his heart and mind warring without his permission. He slides down onto the couch, a loveseat, and his knee brushes against Sokka’s. His cheeks grow warm once more when he mutters an apology, and when he catches Sokka’s eye, Sokka smiles at him, soft, warm, and a little hesitant. He mirrors the smile with flushed cheeks and calm eyes. Feeling relaxed for the first time in hours, he snags a slice of pizza and leans back against the couch as Sokka starts the movie.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #zukka #college au #modern au #fanfic #sokka #prince zuko #sokka/zuko #my writing #my atla writing #zuko #uncle iroh #zuko/sokka #here's two nervous boys #and yes i'm referencing vine in the snippet title #bc i fucking love that vine #again i'm happy to answer any questions about this mess #thanks for the cool af feedback on the first snippet

134 notes · View notes

supergirl-writingz · 4 years ago

Text

Kidnapped

B!D

Request: if its not too much, maybe B!D gets kidnapped some how?

Warnings: Kidnapping, Torture, Extreme Injuries

Note: i hope you like it! i really like this one because its my first fic that is more dark! alsoo kinda want to do a part 2 of this with B!D dealing with her physical injuries, and having PTSD about the whole thing? idk maybe if you guys want haha if someone requests ill do it.. enjoy:)

You had a long day at school, and couldn’t wait to get home. Usually your sisters Kara or Alex could pick you up, but they had some DEO business to take care of. You didn’t mind walking, it was your time to clear your head after school. You texted your sisters that you were leaving, and started your walk home.

You took your normal route and noticed that nobody else was around and it made you uneasy. You started to walk faster, when you noticed a man come out of the bushes and grab you. You tried to fight against him but he held a towel to your face, causing you to lose consciousness as you breathed in the fumes.

You woke up slowly, not remembering what happened. The second everything kicked in, you panicked. You were standing, but your arms were tied to a bar above you, so you couldn’t lower your arms. You tried to pull your arms down as hard as you could, but it didn’t work. You wished you could reach your Supergirl watch. You sighed and looked at your surroundings. You were in a dark, cement room that reminded you of a basement. There were no windows, and one door. It was freezing. You tried to calm yourself down, Kara and Alex would realize soon enough when you don’t text them saying you got home.

Suddenly, the door opened and a man with a mask walked in.

“You’re finally awake” he said.

“What do you want with me?” you shouted at him.

“Word on the street is that you know Supergirl’s real identity”

“Why would I know that?” you responded.

He started to explain to why he knew you were connected to Supergirl. The amount you have been saved by Supergirl, greatly outweighs the amount anyone else has. It was only time before someone made this connection.

“Well I’ll never tell you” you say, trying to sound brave.

He laughed and put his face inches away from yours, “We’ll see about that”.

You spit in his face causing him to slap you.. hard. You cried out unable to hold it in. Then he hit you again... and again... and again. It felt like the punches were getting and harder and harder with each blow. He hit your face, your stomach, your ribs, and he even punched your throat one time. You could barely breathe. You were coughing up blood and you were pretty sure your ribs were broken.

“Are you ready to talk yet” he spat at you.

You shook your head. You weren’t gonna give up. If it was Kara in the position, she would do anything to protect you.

“Fine. Have it your way” he said as he walked out of the room.

You took this as a chance to breathe and try to calm down. It didn’t last long until the man came back, this time with a video camera. He placed it down so it was facing you.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“I’ve hacked into the local news channel and I’m gonna broadcast this so that Supergirl will see and reveal her identity to save you” he says with a grin on his face.

He went and turned the camera on. He told Supergirl that she had one week to reveal her identity, or he’d kill you.

You found your opportunity and yelled “Don’t do it Supergirl I can handle it”

Your comment earned you a punch to the gut. You tried your best not to yell out, you didn’t want Kara to give in. Little did you know, Kara, Alex, and everyone you knew was watching... heartbroken at the sight of you. You looked pretty bad. You were bleeding all over. Some of it dry, some of it fresh. You were in a lot of pain too, but you had to be strong for Kara.

Your captor got up and shut the camera off, “Now it’s time for some fun”.

He did all sorts of things to you. First off, he would drug you. The drugs made it scarier, it made you unable to react and process the pain you were going through. He beat you, he whipped you, he barely gave you enough food and water to survive, and he would use his taser on you. You had no idea how long you’ve been here. All your thoughts and memories were starting to get jumbled. You were going numb.

As he was beating you, you were starting to lose consciousness. You thought this might be the end. You thought you were gonna die. Just as you were drifting off, you felt the beating stop. You opened your eyes again and saw Kara-well Supergirl. That couldn’t be real. It was just the drugs. You convinced yourself you were imagining it, and started drifting again. You just wanted to stop fighting, you just wanted to let go.

You were about to when you heard Kara’s voice say, “Do not give up on me Y/N, please keep fighting”

You heard her. She was real. You were being rescued. You had to fight. You went in and out of consciousness while Kara flew you to the DEO. You were fighting to stay awake but everything hurt so bad. You wanted the pain to stop but you know you made it this far. You could do this.

You got to the DEO and Kara carried you to the Medical Bay and put you down on the bed. You saw Alex come over, tears in her eyes.

“We got you babygirl, you’re gonna be okay” Alex said with a smile.

You managed to give her a small smile and fell into a deep sleep.

You woke up with a start, not knowing what happened. You tried to get up but Alex and Kara rushed to you.

“Shh try not to move hun, you’re okay” Kara said soothingly.

Panic filled your body as you remembered everything thats happened. You started to cry as the pain hit you like a truck.

Then, Lena walked in. “I’m so glad your awake darling, let me put more pain medicine in your IV”

You nodded thankfully, feeling the comfort of another familiar face. Lena had taken care of all your injuries. It was hard for her, Lena was like your third sister. You were so grateful for her. She explained the extent of your injuries and how the healing process would happen. Honestly, it was pretty bad and it freaked you out. Lena held your hand as she spoke to you, and looked in your eyes. It made the news less horrible some how.

You looked over to Alex, “What happened to the guy who took me”.

She replied, “He’s in DEO custody, he won’t hurt anyone ever again”

This made you feel safe. I mean, as safe as you possible could after going through what you’ve been through. You made Lena and Alex go home and get some rest, but Kara stayed. You and Kara had a long talk, she felt responsible for what had happened.

“I know you would have rather me given up who you are rather than let that man do those horrible things to me, I know that. It was my choice. I wanted to be strong for you Kara, because your strong for me everyday” you said to Kara squeezing her hand.

Kara had tears in her eyes, “You were so strong, even stronger than me. I’m gonna get you through this little one”

You smiled, “I know you are”

Kara climbed into the bed with you as you fell asleep. You knew you had a long road ahead of you. Not just physically, but mentally. You have been through something traumatic, and it wasn’t gonna be easy to recover. It was gonna take a long time for you to finally feel safe again, but somehow with your sisters and your friends by your side, it seemed possible.

144 notes · View notes

lunetheaveragefan · 4 years ago

Text

one day...

Hi, y’all! Sorry there’s been such a delay for Chapter 2. I’ve been super busy with school and dance and other activities and all that. Also, I decided about halfway through my original Chapter 2 that I was going to alternate between Virgil and Roman’s perspectives so I had to start a new chapter from scratch. But that means that now-Chapter 3 has already been started, so hopefully I’ll have it done by Friday this week!

A Sander Sides high school AU

Pairing: Prinxiety and some background Logicality

Summary: Virgil is used to being alone. He only has one friend, Logan. But when Logan makes a new friend, things begin to change as two more join their group. Roman, a boisterous theater kid, seems determined to destroy Virgil’s lonely, average life. How much will Virgil’s life change?

Warnings: Some cursing and quick mentions of a possible fight/hospital. If you notice anything else, let me know!

Word Count: 1,919

anyway, here it is!

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

CHAPTER TWO

Roman Princeford is absolutely, completely, terribly humiliated.

He can’t stop blushing in embarrassment, and it only makes it worse when the classes are boring and he can't stop his mind from drifting to that morning. Like now, for example.

Stupid, stupid Roman, he chastises himself. Why didn’t you notice him there, you oblivious dumbass?

He groans and buries his head in his hands.

“Is something wrong, Roman?” the math teacher asks. “Do you need help?” Yes, but not the help you can give me, Roman thinks. He takes a breath and fixes a dazzling smile on.

“No, Mrs. Perry, I’m doing fine! Thank you for your offer of assistance, however!” he exclaims in his usual lyrical way. Roman always makes an effort to seem like he’s reading off a script, especially one where there’s a heroic prince he can play. It always makes him feel better when he plays a part. Then, Roman can imagine that he is the character. The same qualities, traits, life, everything.

He can ignore how stupid he is and pretend he’s a brave, dashing prince. The princes in stories would never have the problems Roman’s been having.

Mrs. Perry walks off, rolling her eyes, not without fondness, and Roman turns back to his math. Shoving his mind out of fantasy, he tries to solve the problems. It seems like he’s gotten nowhere by the time the bell rings. Throwing his paper into his bag, he hurries out of the room.

“Heya, Roman!” Patton Hart, his best friend, calls through the throng of people. Roman slows down so Patton can catch up. “How ya doing?”

“Uhh, Patton, I am a disaster!” Roman proclaims. “You’ll never guess what happened this morning!”

“Oh no! What did you do this time?” Patton asks jokingly as they enter the classroom. History is one of the few classes they have together, so they always walk from fifth period there.

“I was telling a story, a great one, mind you, and knocked over a poor, innocent student!” Roman throws down his bag next to his seat and plops into the hard plastic chair. “I didn’t mean to, I swear. But that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was who I hit!” Pausing for dramatic effect, Roman finishes, “It was Virgil! I knocked over Virgil Tempest!”

Patton’s mouth forms a small ‘o’. He starts to laugh, but after seeing how embarrassed Roman is, he stops and places a hand on his shoulder. “What did he say?”

“Nothing much. Just some mumble-jumble. But now I can’t stop thinking about him! I didn’t get a single thing done in math! It’s terrible, Patton. My entire life is all going to go downhill from here! I’ll become ineligible for the play because I’m failing all my classes! I won’t be able to graduate, and then I’ll have to work.” He shudders. “That’s it! I’m done for. I’ll never accomplish anything!” He collapses back against the chair for dramatic effect. He knows he’s being very extra, but honestly, what else does anyone expect at this point? He’s Roman Princeford, after all.

If only I were the brave, loud, daring person the whole school thinks I am.

“Woah, woah, woah there buddy!” Patton comforts. “I’m sure you’ll do fine. You aren’t going to fail high school. You just gotta tell him how you feel! Then you won’t have to worry about it anymore!”

Roman looks at Patton in shock.

“Tell him how I feel?” Patton nods, encouraging. Roman sits back up. “And make a fool of myself yet again? No thank you! He hates me, you know that! I’d be better off flunking high school! How could I look into those beautiful brown eyes in that beautiful face and tell him I had a crush on him! Impossible, I say! Impossible!” He throws out his hands, but then remembers that the exact same movement started this whole thing. Quickly, his hands fall back to his sides.

Patton chuckles. “It’s not as hard as you think, Ro-ro! You’ll do great. And I’m sure he doesn’t hate you.” Roman sighs. “Hey, why don’t you—”

“Boys in the back,” the history teacher says, shooting a look at Roman and Patton, “it’s time for class. Pay attention please.” They both nod at turn away from each other and towards the board.

Roman doesn’t pay attention to a single word of the lecture. All he can think about is Virgil’s freckles and his eyes and his lips and his laugh, which Roman had only heard briefly while walking past him but loved nonetheless. How come I’ve never noticed that Virgil had freckles before? he wonders. Goddammit, is that boy just going to keep getting more and more amazing?

Roman chuckles to himself, thinking, Oh my god, I’m so gay. Deciding he should probably start listening to what the teacher is saying, he shoves any and all thoughts of Virgil from his mind and fills the gaps with information about the buildup to World War 1.

After class, Patton rushes up to him. He pulls Roman to the side of the hallway in a little nook where the row of lockers end.

“After school, you should come with me to this coffee shop,” Patton says, a little smile on his face. Roman knows that smile. He’s up to no good.

“Why?” His voice rises with suspicion at the end of the word.

“My lab partner, Logan Wise, you know him, said that we should meet up to work on our project after school.” A blush rises to Patton’s cheeks causing Roman to smirk as he figures it out.

“Someone’s got a cru-ush,” Roman teases, voice sing-songy and laughing.

“That’s not the point,” Patton says, blushing even harder.

“Fine.” Roman lowers his voice to a whisper. “But you can’t hide it from me. I’m the love whisperer, remember?” Throughout their years of high school, Roman had been responsible for setting up many couples. It’s gotten to a point where almost every day, he has someone walk up to him, asking him to help set them up with whoever their crush happens to be.

“Well, maybe I have a crush, but so do you. And you do know who Logan’s best friend is, right?” Patton responds, that same mischievous smile. Roman chuckles, looking around in a fond mix of exasperation and amusement.

“Virgil,” he finally says. Patton’s smile grows wider. “Look, I told you. I can’t talk to him. I’ll just make a fool of myself!”

“Fine,” Patton says. “Suit yourself.” He pats Roman on the shoulder and starts to walk away. Before he’s completely out of sight, he turns and yells, “Just think about it, okay?” Roman rolls his eyes at his friend’s shameless attempts to set him up and heads to choir.

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

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, Roman shuts his locker with a bang. He joins the flood of people heading towards the front doors. He spills out of the school and heads towards his car. Once he’s only a few yards away, he unlocks the doors and dumps his things inside the passenger door. After waving to a few other kids on their way out that he knows, he gets into the driver’s side.

Alone, finally, Roman allows himself to drop the fake smile. Ugh, you goddamn idiot. How did you not notice him there? Now he hates you even more. Good going, Roman! Love whisperer, yeah right.

If only I could just talk to him…

Shoving his embarrassment and frustration aside, he starts the car and pulls out of the school, heading home. His route home winds its way through the downtown streets. Roman is so used to driving the same streets, he’s startled to notice something unordinary.

A few cars ahead of him is Patton’s silver car. What is he doing over here? Patton lives on the opposite side of downtown as Roman, and while the town is relatively small, it’s still strange. Roman is sure he’s never seen Patton drive this way home before.

Turning onto 4th Street, Roman watches Patton, now directly ahead of him, park in an open spot in front of one of the little shops lining the street. The sign above says “The Sanders Cafe” in swirly cursive lettering. A decal of a little cupcake sitting next to a cup of coffee accompanies it.

Oh, right, Roman remembers. Patton and Logan were meeting up to work on their chemistry thingy.

And Virgil is probably going to be there. No matter how much he tries to block the thought, it still shows up. Roman has tried to get Virgil out of his mind, but it never works. He always pops up when Roman least expects it. Frankly, Roman finds it quite frustrating.

Lost in thought, Roman turns one intersection too early. “I guess I’ll just go around the block,” he sighs. It had been a long day, and he was looking forward to crashing when he got home. The detour would only cost about 5 minutes but still. Annoying.

Roman’s phone buzzes in the center console while he’s waiting to turn back onto 4th Street, the one with the cafe on it. One quick glance down at it tells Roman it’s from Patton. Checking the road to make sure he has the time, he looks back to read what it says.

“Patton…” he groans.

“I think you should come to the cafe with me. I’m waiting outside. Just give it a chance, kiddo!” reads the text message. However much Roman would like to deny it, he does want to go with Patton. On impulse, he finds a parking spot and pulls in. Patton is parked a few spots down, still sitting in his car. He hasn’t noticed Roman yet, and Roman’s glad for that.

“Come on, Roman,” he says, trying to give himself a pep talk. “Think about what a prince would do. He’d charge in there without a second thought. It wouldn’t matter what would happen because it would be in the name of love. You got this. What’s the worst that could happen, besides Virgil hating the sight of you so much he instantly fights you the second he sees you and you lose and have to go to the hospital and become the laughing stock of the school because while under anesthesia you admit your feelings for Virgil and now everyone knows and—”

A knock on the driver’s side window cuts Roman’s worrying off. When Roman looks up, he sees Patton’s grinning face. The other boy waves enthusiastically and gives him a thumbs up.

You got this. Be a prince, Roman. It’s in your name, after all. Taking a deep breath and clenching his fists in determination, Roman grabs his phone off the console and double checks to make sure he has his wallet.

Patton practically assaults him the moment he steps outside the car, talking in a rapid stream of words, but Roman can’t hear anything over the ever-increasing beating of his heart. They walk up to the front door, Patton ahead of Roman, still rambling about something from foods class.

The moment they walk in, the little silver bell dinging above them, Roman forgets all his worries because there Virgil is, sitting in a booth with another boy, — Logan, probably — his hair falling in front of his face, teeth gnawing on his lip in concentration and Oh god, that boy is beautiful.

And then Virgil looks up at them, and Roman swears he can feel his heart drop all the way to the ground.

#virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #thomas sanders #prinxiety #logicality #sanders sides #high school au #fanfiction #fanfic #one day...

64 notes · View notes

jan31 · 4 years ago

Text

Rambling Review Episode 29

I have been trying to write this review since Monday and I would like to think my thoughts are more organised now, but if you are looking for a logical, analytical and insightful review this wont be it, my brain is still jumbled after that episode!!

Lets start at the cabin....seriously Serkan Bolat, hypochondriac who takes his pulse after coughing at the flower shop is going to stay in a remote cabin, with no obvious means of transport and communication? He should be in the city near medical facilities after his serious crash and head injury. This is where you realise he has been isolated for a reason, so no one can visit or call him and put thoughts in his head. Selin has created a perfect hideaway where he only hears her side of the story about Eda, and so the brainwashing begins. Its unclear how long they have been there, i assume a few weeks, but this is long enough to get inside someone’s head and create a scenario, particularly when there are no other conflicting opinions and you have no memories of the person. Selin is not happy about his decision to go back to Istanbul as she knows his friends may tell a different story to hers about Eda.

Engin is grieving for his best friend, so i loved their reunion, Serkan had a huge grin on his face and was also happy to see him. Serkan told Efe i have only got 3 friends, Engin Pryll and Sirius, and those were the ones that got the biggest welcome.

When they all looked behind him as Eda appeared they honestly thought they were going to see a beautiful reunion and were all smiling

This was an iconic scene, (yeah i cried), Eda walking slowly towards Serkan and the nod from Selin confirming this was Eda. Touching his face as she does so often, making sure he is real and then as expected fainting, I am sure i heard Serkans heartbeat as he caught her. What was more heartbreaking was that Selin, who has her phone glued to her hand most of the time, never bothered to show him a photo of Eda while they were in that cabin. Ugh i hate this woman so badly. I noticed that Serkan did not have a phone during this episode, so obviously lost at sea?? So how did he call Selin, this is something i still don’t understand, even if he used someone elses phone, he would not know her number by heart i am sure.

Serkan telling her ”” Today is the first day i have seen your face”” and “”you are a stranger to me”” was harsh words to hear, and Handes acting here was superb, we really felt her pain. There has been alot of complaints about Serkan and the way he treated Eda here, but we never really knew robot bolat, we saw him the day he met Eda, and things started changing in him soon after that. We know Leyla called him her executioner, and we saw how he took care of Kaan when he took one of the projects from them. he is ruthless, emotionless and logical in business. And Eda as far as he is concerned is business, she owns 45% of her company, and he thinks he has been manipulated and blinded by her in order for her to get the shares. She made him look like a fool in front of his family and friends and he wont let her do it again. We really have no idea at this stage what lies Selin has told

Loved the handcuff scene, Serkan driving Edas car was a sight i never expected to see!

Eda coming to his house showing him photos was heartbreaking, he refused to even look at them and just kept saying it wasn’t him, he really has put a wall up and wont listen to anything she says. I was glad to see Engin supporting Eda to him, reminding him he also loved her and she had a right to be angry after what she has gone through in the last 2 months. I did feel sorry for Serkan here, he really has got information overload from everyone and he keeps saying he cant remember. “Does Selin mean something to you?’, and all he can say is she is the only one in his life that hasn’t changed and therefore represents a safe place for him while he is recovering. He has never loved Selin, he has made that very clear to her in the past, so nothing has changed. She does a good job at work, doesn’t put demands on him and it is basically a business relationship. There is no affection between them or chemistry, his heart belongs to Eda

I think Eda coming to his house has stirred up something and i am sure we saw flashbacks in the fragman of him sitting there among the photos looking sad. The next day at Aydan house, he keeps looking at her and looking away, He is drawn to her and is fighting the feelings.

As @lizacstuff reminded us in her brilliant review, Serkan said “If I lived a hundred times I would fall in love with you a hundred times”, he does not have to remember Eda in order to fall in love with her, and frankly makes for a beautiful story if this is what they are going to show us

I really cant wrap my head around Selin and her evil mind. Surely she realises Serkan will get some memories back and when he does she is out of the door. But she seems to think he will still choose her! This is not just about Serkan its also about her getting revenge on Eda, she does not want her to be happy, and at the moment she is firmly in control of Serkan while his memories are still gone. Its interesting that Serkan has made no mention to her of the images he is getting of a woman in a yellow dress, as I am sure this would panic Selin as she knows exactly what he is talking about.

I liked that Ferit warned her not to get too used to the situation, and she was swimming in dangerous waters, and in typical Selin bitch style she saw Ceren coming and asked him if he was jealous of her. This woman is manipulating everyone who she thinks has wronged her and the worse she becomes the better her downfall will be and please can Eda be there for this one.

The final scene of Eda walking in to the cafe was perfect. She knows the effect she has on Serkan and she made sure she was late so everyone would notice Of course his circuits started smoking and he got some flashbacks, unfortunately he never see the face of the woman in them so does not know if it is Eda. When she went to him and his heart starting aching she knew then that his heart remembered their love. The kiss completely confused him as he definitely felt something, and in his panic he did the logical thing in his mind and proposed to Selin. And what an awkward speech that was, he stumbled through it and said Selins name while looking at Eda. Yes it was cruel, but in his mind, he wanted to shut everything down and make sure he was clear about not having any feelings for her. He didn’t fool any of us!

Aydan....i am shocked that she hid the news of Serkan being alive from Eda, and also shocked that she did not bring him home, it makes no sense and just shows the depth of Selins manipulation, she is controlling everyone at he moment.

Dennis is lovely, has been such a support to Eda, and will definitely cause some jealous scenes with Serkan

The acting this week from the lead characters was amazing, they never disappoint. The long hours they put in day after day to bring us this brilliant show makes me in awe of them

What i want to see in Episode 30

Small details, big difference - this is going to the the theme

We know we are getting the yellow dress, and i have the feeling that this will not be Edas idea. Maybe she decides at the last minute to go to the party and asks Melo to bring her an outfit to the office for her. Or if it is her idea, I hope she leaves her coat on until she is in front of Serkan, for maximum effect. Dancing with Dennis in that dress will definitely being back jealous robot.

The colour changing mug needs to come back, I am hoping Seyfi has brought it to the house, or they go to the Art Life apartment and use it there.

Sirius going for walks with both of them

We know Serkan has some injury to his right hand, but i think they will leave that for 31 perhaps

I want to see Eda change tactics and become distant, this will intrigue Serkan more

We have seen Engin asking Serkan is he not a bit curious about Eda, and here i am hoping that he does look into her life more

Aydan......wow you are going to have to work hard to get any kind of redemption, but she is someone Serkan listens to and trusts, so lets hope she steps up her game and we know Seyfi will always be helping push Serkan and Eda together again.

The girls have been a great support to Eda, and will continue to be, but with Serkan not knowing them it is hard for them to get him to see the real eda.

Sorry this turned out far longer that expected....congratulations if you got to the end!

#edser #serkan bolat #eda yildiz #Kerem Bursin #hande erçel #sen cal kapimi #jan rambles

21 notes · View notes

oriigami · 4 years ago

Text

good old-fashioned lover boy

[I put off posting this for like, a really long time, but I found it in my docs again and figured I might as well. TW for internalized homophobia/biphobia and a (non-graphic) panic attack. So, here’s my take on Sanji’s Issues, finally. Read it on AO3 here!]

In his defense, Sanji doesn’t actually mean to say it.

The thing is, it’s something he tells himself on a regular basis, the words running through his mind in pure self-defensive panicky habit. It used to be a weekly or biweekly event, but since coming onboard the ship, it’s become more like daily. So maybe it’s not surprising that the words that are always on his mind eventually slip out of his lips.

He doesn’t even remember the exact words that prompt it. He’s distracted, putting the finishing touches on the frosting for dessert as the rest of the crew lounge around the galley in playful post-supper sleepiness.

Luffy and Usopp are joking around, talking about the flower-seller boy on the last island Usopp had struck up a friendship with, and there’s a giggle and a teasing question about love, and on autopilot Sanji rolls his eyes a little without looking up from the cake he’s decorating and says, “Boys don’t like boys, Luffy.”

Suddenly, the room is very quiet, and everyone is looking at him, and Sanji is just as suddenly eight years old and wants to hide.

“Oi, cook,” Zoro says, voice sharp and cutting through the sudden silence. “What was that?”

And he really doesn’t want to defend the words, and he really doesn’t want to explain them, so he doesn’t. He scowls back and says, “Nothing.”

Zoro stares him down for a moment, and most of the time Sanji would glare right back at him and snap out something caustic and maybe try to kick his head in, but-

He looks away, teeth gritted and face too hot.

“Sanji-kun,” Nami says, her voice too sweet to not be a trap, and it’s almost cruel because she knows there’s no way he’s not going to fall for it, because it’s Nami.

“Yes, Nami-san?” he says, because he can’t not. The frosting in the bowl in his hands is already fluffed to perfection but he keeps mindlessly whisking it anyways, because he needs something to look at that isn’t Zoro’s disapproving glare or Nami’s poison-trap smile.

“You know I like girls, don’t you?” she asks, even though the answer is obvious- it’s not like she’s ever been all that discreet about her relationships.

“Of course.”

He’s still not looking at her, but he can practically see her tip her head to one side. “And do you think there’s something wrong with me because of that?”

“I- of course not!” he says, jerking around to look at her, honestly appalled at the very concept. Nami’s perfect, of course there’s nothing wrong with her, not like there is with- “Of course not,” he says again, rather than let that thought reach its conclusion. “That’s- different-”

“What about Zoro?” Nami presses, jerking a thumb over at Zoro, who glances over at her for a moment before settling his glare back on Sanji. “Do you think there’s something wrong with him?”

“That’s not- what I meant, I just-” He’s stuttering, he knows he is, because he can’t find the words, because the logic that makes perfect sense in his head is just refusing to leave his mouth, leaving him standing there, stupid and stammering. He doesn’t want to have this conversation, doesn’t want to be here, trapped between Nami’s merciless judgement and something he doesn’t ever want to drag into the light to examine.

“Then what did you mean?” Nami asks, as relentless as ever, and-

-and Sanji slams the bowl down on the counter so hard it almost shatters and all but bolts out of the galley because he can’t can’t can’t-

She’s kind enough, at least, to let him go in silence.

It’s Usopp, of all people, who comes and finds him in the crow’s nest.

Sanji’s already five cigarettes deep into a pack, lighting each fresh one off the stub of the last with unsteady hands, sucking on them like if he can just get enough smoke inside his head it’ll block out the jumble of tangled thoughts and muffle the memory of Nami’s cutting words. The room stinks of nicotine. Usopp makes a face and goes around to open the windows, letting the nighttime breeze start to clear away the smoky air.

Once that’s done, Usopp sits down against the wall just opposite him, giving him a thoughtful look. Sanji doesn’t meet his eyes, and fishes another cigarette out of the pack.

“You never met Kaya, right?” Usopp says at length, sounding kind of distant, nostalgic, almost.

Sanji blinks, glancing up from the floor. “Who?”

“It would’ve been before you joined the crew,” Usopp says, hands dangling between his knees, gaze focused on the stars visible through the open window. “She was a girl who lived in my hometown. Syrup Village. She was sick, and couldn’t leave her house, so I used to go and tell her stories every day.” He smiles, big and genuine, and adds, “I really loved her. Still do. Sometimes I’d make up stories about the future, about us setting sail and having adventures together once she got well, and we’d be married in some of them.”

Sanji doesn’t know where he’s going with this, but unlike with a lot of Usopp’s stories, this one has the weight of honesty behind it, and so he listens.

“And then Zoro and Nami and Luffy showed up, and helped me save my town and Kaya, and I joined their crew. And, um, Luffy told me we were already friends, and he smiled at me, and, uh, I realized I had a huge crush on him, too.”

Sanji bites clean through his cigarette and has to spend a minute or so spitting out loose tobacco before he can say, very eloquently, “You- huh?”

Usopp laughs a little, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, stupid, right? I mean, Luffy’s not, you know, he doesn’t do the whole, dating, romance thing, so obviously, uh, nothing ever came of it, which I was kind of sad about for a while. But, I mean, I got over it, cause he’s my best friend, y’know?”

Sanji’s still staring. Usopp waves a hand. “I just wanted to say, like- it’s okay, you know? Liking both boys and girls. That’s normal. Even if nothing comes of it. You’re not on your own.”

“Wait,” Sanji says, “Wait. You think I’m- I’m not-” He flounders for a moment. “...I like women,” he finishes, rather pathetically.

“Yeah, I know,” Usopp says. “Everyone knows. But, like, a week ago I saw you shatter the glass you were holding ‘cause Zoro came in from working out shirtless and really sweaty.”

Oh. Sanji remembers that, now that Usopp mentions it, and as soon as he does he feels his entire face heat up and swiftly buries it in his hands, digging his fingers into his hair. “Fuck,” he mutters emphatically.

There’s a pause, and then the sound of footsteps crossing the small room. Usopp sits down next to him. Sanji doesn’t look up. “I guess I don’t get it,” Usopp says. “What’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem,” Sanji says into his hands, and it sounds unconvincing even to him.

Usopp doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t really have to; even without looking up, Sanji can practically feel the skepticism radiating off of him.

Sanji sighs, lifts his head, and focuses on shaking another cigarette out of the pack to replace the one he’d ruined, lighting it as he tries to put his thoughts in order. “It’s… there’s rules,” he finally says.

There’s other things he could say, he means to say- maybe it’s okay for Zoro, for Nami, for you, but it’s not that easy; women make sense, aren’t threatening, can be trusted; I’ve already failed at being everything else I was supposed to be- but the words stick in his throat. He’s still struggling to dislodge them when-

“So?” Usopp just says, and shrugs a little. “We’re pirates. Breaking rules is kind of what we do.”

…hm.

Well, that’s a point to think about. Maybe. Sanji takes another drag off of his cigarette and feels something in his chest settle, just a bit, the loosening of a knot that’s been yanked too tight for years and years and years.

“Maybe,” he concedes around a mouthful of smoke, and sees Usopp grin triumphantly out of the corner of his eye.

There’s- a lot, in his head right now, and it’ll probably take some time to work though it all, but. For the moment he can breathe again, and Usopp has a point, so even if he’s not fine, he will be, probably.

“Thanks,” he says, and means it.

And then, after a moment, “But, Luffy? Really?”

Usopp elbows him hard, but he’s laughing between the words when he says, “Shut up!”

And Sanji finds he can laugh about it, too.

#my writing #one piece #opfic #opfanfic #sanji #usopp

66 notes · View notes

subtlereferencetomyinterests · 4 years ago

Text

I Taste Honey but I Haven’t Seen the Hive - Chapter Six

Ao3, Masterpost, C.1 C.2 C.3 C.4 C.5

Relationships: eventual queer-platonic intruality. platonic dukeceit, creativitwins, and dlampr.

Yet again there are no italics. its new years eve sue me. oh also happy 2021 nobody question my priorities thanks <3

Warnings: so much softness, implications of self-isolation, swearing, Lots of Feelings, sympathetic everybody, descriptions of the sides having non-human features.

Word Count: 3,962

Something Remus came to realize was that he, a bit paradoxically, was not used to people being in his space.

It was weird. Not weird in the way that people usually felt when he was the one interrupting- he wasn’t scared by it, or disgusted, or even really annoyed. It was just… surprising, to have somebody else hanging around him, unprompted by anything.

Remus wasn’t known for having boundaries- or respecting them, for that matter- but he’d at least been attempting to restrain himself just a bit after being accepted by the others. Out of courtesy, if nothing else.

And apparently he didn’t need to. Not after what happened with Patton, anyway. Now that Patton had deemed the two of them ‘close’- something he was absolutely happy to agree with, for the record- Remus’ world had flipped sort of around. Back to no boundaries, only he wasn’t the one crossing those lines, and nobody was running screaming. Least of all Patton!

Remus ran the thoughts over in his head, feeling like that day was shaping up to be a great example of the change:

He and Patton were sitting side-by-side in the living room, content, with the rest of the sides spread around in different seats and configurations just the same. The unlikely pair were at the fringe of the circle, close enough to be part of things but far enough to zone in and out at will (as both were prone to do). It was nice, amiable.

But minutes before- forty of them at most- Remus had been up in his own room, happily dissecting some gooish creations and only vaguely aware that there was a meeting that day. His attendance to group meetings varied from week to week- sometimes he was bored and could use an argument, and other times he was having fun on his own and knew that it wouldn’t be all that important if he ditched. He joined more often than he used to, sometimes he was even asked for, but he was optional still. A favored option, suggestions taken now, sure- but still not mandatory.

He was going to stay upstairs for that one, but Patton had come to get him. Had dragged him down in that sweet, puppy-dog way of convincing that worked so well and, knowing him, was totally unintentional. And even if Remus didn’t care about arguing his way through content production right then, Patton had promised that it was important for him to be there.

That was the word he’d used for Remus. Important.

How the hell could Remus say no to that?

At least the meeting was going by without a hitch, for once. He assumed it was- Remus was honestly paying very little attention- but the lack of anger or tension was practically palpable. These things were usually so spiteful that even Remus, renowned lover of chaos, could almost taste his headache when everybody started shouting and hissing and fighting. It just got sad.

But not that time, apparently.

As Logan went on his third ramble of the evening, smiling widely at a surprising lack of interruption, Remus turned to Patton. He whispered:

“Okay, when are they gonna snap? Did they all finally get lobotomized?”

Patton frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean where’s all the screaming and crying? Specs and Prince Priss haven’t had a single one of their horny yelling matches, what gives?”

Patton smiled in a way that said he was trying very hard not to laugh, rolling his eyes.

“These meetings have calmed down a bit, I guess,” he shrugged.

Remus glanced around the room with narrowed eyes. While that certainly seemed like the truth, he couldn’t buy it.

“Yeah, I give it until one of them vaguely insults the others, and then everybody’s gonna shut down for the next week. That kinda tension doesn’t just go.”

Patton didn’t say anything. Half-gazing at the carpet, he didn’t look like he’d even heard. He was smiling, but it was one of those jumbled up expressions, the type that tried to span a hundred different feelings. He had so many expressions like that, that seemed bottomless and swirling and so intricate on a humanoid face that, in reality, wasn’t built to display something like that. It was uncanny- not like an eerie doll, but like something with unearthly beauty. This face, though, had tones of upset.

“It’s been a while since you’ve been around everybody,” Patton said.

It wasn’t a question and it didn’t need to be. While Remus wasn’t exactly known for keeping to himself, he couldn't be called sociable either. He dropped in to say something, usually random, and then he was gone as soon as he’d visited. Even before the first Patton incident, fuck, it had been weeks since he’d actually stuck around through something.

Since The Acceptance, now that Remus thought of it, he’d been spending more time alone than ever. Not all of his time- he remembered being surprised at Logan talking to him, willingly, like friends, and after that had even come Virgil and Roman. He saw people, talked to them, yeah. The time spent was friendlier, more welcoming, but it was so much less.

Well, it was obvious why: they visited him, but- like he’d mentioned, he’d been trying to give them some space.

“Sure, it's been awhile,” Remus admitted, “But I never expected shit to change so much around here, still.”

The haze on Patton’s face thickened like fog on the moors, a soft and sympathetic mist over his eyes that Remus knew was aimed at him (even if it was pointed more to a sort of middle distance).

“I don’t think I did, either,” Patton’s mouth barely moved, his voice less of a whisper and moreso a fragile breath. “I was hoping for it, but… I’m still trying to get used to stuff being allowed to change, you know?” He picked at a loose thread along the seam of the couch. “I haven’t done this stuff in a while, either.”

Remus’ head shot up, and he almost forgot that they weren’t the only two in the room. Somehow, he stopped himself from shouting:

“You- it has?”

A tiny smile. Something built up behind Patton’s eyes; a wave, dark and lonely and filling his bright blues with cloudy gray. “I just needed some alone time, after everything changed so much so fast. I still feel, I dunno, weird. I don’t know what’s wrong with me- but…” he swallowed, his head lifting. “I’m really happy for them,” he was staring- so very loving- first at Logan, then Roman, then Virgil and Janus. It was a wonder none of them felt his gaze on them, Remus thought, because he was sure if anyone looked at him that way, he’d burn up like a fae upon iron. “They deserve it so much. I know that not everything is perfect still, but, I’m just so proud of us anyways. I- I think maybe-”

He cut himself off, blinking rapidly. Remus gave the room a quick once over to make sure nobody was looking their way- and nobody was: Virgil was very resolutely trying to get everyone to stay on topic despite Janus and Logan’s continued tangenting, and Roman was scribing furiously on several different pieces of paper- before he inched close enough to curve his arm around Patton. Touching like that had steadily become familiar to both of them, and it didn’t take long for Patton to fall untense against his side. He leaned into him, muttering: “I mean, they’re all doing a lot better than me, that’s for sure. I- I don’t even know what I’m for anymore. Maybe that’s why I’ve been… ditching, really.”

Remus squeezed his shoulder. There were so many things he could’ve said and done, but all of them loud and fervent and definitely not subtle enough to go unnoticed by everyone. So, for the sake of Patton’s privacy, he settled on this:

“That makes two of us, Morey.”

The meeting that was planned to take two or three hours took the entire day, just as always. Hours and hours were spent in a room filled with excited conversation, of which the subject oscillated wildly between relevant topics and complete nonsense- which Remus and Patton did, eventually, tune back into (and contribute to as well, mainly in the nonsense department). Eventually, even Virgil gave up on trying to keep anything in order.

But the meeting ended on a good note anyway. Lots of good notes, actually, if the stacks upon stacks of paper they’d scribbled up were any indication. Mess, the sides had come to believe, was usually a measure of their productivity: if crumpled pages were strayed across the room, if forgotten pens and pencils balanced on every surface from coffee table to TV stand, and if- in the process of snacking- they’d accumulated enough dishes to fill the sink for days on end? Shit. Got. Done.

Remus stared over the chaos with unfocused eyes. He felt distantly proud of the stormish state the living room was in. Draped over the back of the sectional, he gnawed idly on a wood pencil, stripping its yellow into beige. The paint fell off in bitter chunks, and the taste made him think of grabbing some non-acrylic dinner before closing the night off. Maybe he’d steal some of whatever saccharine sweet Patton usually made in the late evenings, and then spend the rest of the night with him, anyway. Remus debated what would be the most fun (or if he was tired enough to sleep yet), partially aware as he did so that he’d chewed and swallowed the metal-eraser end of his pencil.

“Ugh,” a drawn out groan broke his thoughts, petulant and whiny. “Do you have any intention of helping us clean up this, the common area?”

Roman was kneeling beside Janus on the carpet, the pair surrounded by papers and binders and trashbags, the former of which they were sorting into either of the latter two, depending on how useful each page was. Roman had stopped working, however, to stare up at Remus indignantly. Remus glared right back.

“I’ve never had an intention in my life,” he answered.

Janus shrugged, smiling in that I-told-you-so way at Roman. But Roman, ever the nuisance, wasn’t letting it go.

“Come on! It’s not like you’re even doing anything!”

“I’m doing something,” Remus’ words were wide and wobbly as he stripped another line of paint off the pencil, breaking some splinters off into his teeth.

“Oh, really?”

“Yes,” another chunk of wood, down the hatch. “I’m flaying all these leftover pencils until they’re lead-sticks.”

Roman hopped up from the floor and dropped himself onto the couch, shoving himself into the way so jarringly that it reminded Remus of himself.

“Well, now you’re going to help us clean.”

Janus rolled his eyes, not even glancing up. “Roman, just leave it alone, we-”

“We are all parts of this whole now, including him! Remus-” Roman rounded on him again, “If you’re going to come down here and help us make all this mess, with all of your numerous contributions that we have to write down, you’ll help clean it like anybody else. Do you think that I like any of- of-” he gestured, flamboyantly, at the room, “This? Ugh, please, I’m a prince! But, fair is fair, and fair means everybody.”

And that was the point of the conversation in which Remus would cackle, push Roman backwards off the couch, and proclaim how much it’d go against his very being to clean a mess instead of cause it. He’d tell Roman how funny it was that he thought he could boss him around, because it always had been- that full-of-it Older Brother kind of attitude that had never worked. The Prince had never once managed to get him to do anything, and each attempt only got funnier than the last.

He didn’t say any of that, though.

Roman was bitching at him, not to go away this time, but to stay. Stay and help the group, because he was a part of said group. So he was asked to help them, the group that he was a part of, because he was part of it. That group.

“Okay,” he blurted, “Okay, I’ll- alright.”

Roman blinked at him, a look of disbelief spreading across his face. “You- oh!” he smiled, utterly baffled. “That was- very easy?”

Janus, too, was looking up at Remus with bewilderment, his task of paper-sorting all but forgotten. Remus couldn’t blame either of them, but he still huffed, trying very hard not to be embarrassed by that whole… moment.

He shook it off, rolling off the couch and standing up, jittery.

“Whatever, just- tell me what to pick up, okay?”

They seemed not to hear him, the gawking continuing on until he started working unprompted, and longer than that still. Each time he (begrudgingly) shoved something into a trashbag, it earned him another Exchange of Glances from the pair.

They got over it eventually, though, because there was a fuck-load more to clean than there was room to stare. So they cleaned.

Remus thought it would get old after a minute, and he’d finally gather up the guts to bail on them, but it just… never happened. It felt unnatural to be getting rid of a mess- like an animal having its fur brushed the wrong way, continuously- but by some point the sensation was distant. The rest of him was still busy processing, experiencing, maybe possibly overthinking this kind of recognition he’d never gotten before. It was handed to him now like it was something normal. The three of them worked together, and it was normal.

Acceptance, as it turned out, wasn’t synonymous with ‘soulless assimilation’. In fact, it was pretty fucking great, getting to watch his brother and best friend find documents from the floor with his ideas on them, then tucking them into a binder marked important, instead of a trashcan marked to burn. It was… surreal.

But the tidying was over in just an hour and a half- oh wow, never in a million years would Remus have thought an hour and a half of cleaning would be too little for him. He made a note to absolutely destroy something big and important later, to balance the universe out again.

Roman sank through the floor as soon as they were done, complaining loudly about how very exhausted he was. Remus teased him on his way out, but it was just for the habit- he was way too mushy to think of anything properly mean at the moment.

Janus watched him go, silent. He sat beside Remus on the couch, and despite his obvious tiredness, he waited a good few minutes before saying anything.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

Remus shivered. Janus pulled him up into a hug (one that maybe dragged on for a little too long, but who was counting?), and it spelled out all the pride and care that he’d never been good at verbalizing. With that, he gave Remus a short nod, and then was gone as well.

Which made everyone else upstairs, probably in their rooms and halfway asleep. Then there was Remus, antsy in the living room, itchy with feelings.

Everyone but Patton, of course, who could still be heard humming in the kitchen; who never went up until he knew everyone else was in their rooms, true to the protective parent persona. Remus suddenly didn’t think he wanted anything else but to see Patton after what had happened, to talk to him, to…

He walked to the kitchen.

“Pat.”

Patton looked over his shoulder at Remus, up to his elbow in sudsy sink water. A smile fell naturally across his face.

“Hi,” his voice was low, delicate. “You about to head up?”

Remus watched his friend work, trailing into the room slowly. He grinned, “Are you kidding? I could stay up all night, if I wanted.”

“Do you want to?” Patton asked him.

Remus thought on it for a moment. He shrugged, iunno, leaned against the counter by the sink. Patton turned away again.

It was so quiet. No wind. No footsteps. Not a muffled voice upstairs, even- just the sound of water and ceramic hitting ceramic. Everything was still.

Remus hated it. Silence was fragile, and he crawled with the need to break it. He felt it get tense as it stretched out, and he just wanted to tear the air apart with sound. It felt like nothing mattered anymore, when peace was so easily able to drown it all out. Cold and alone. He hated it.

Sometimes, Remus imagined that if the silence went too long, he’d never be able to make a noise again. There were few things that made him so unhappy, but the quiet…

“What’s on your mind?” Patton asked.

Remus jolted. Patton was staring, concern gathering in his eyes the longer he did. Remus took a deep breath- he remembered something, something small and unimportant that Janus had told him once.

When one is so intensely happy, they can fall to agonizing upset even quicker than if they’d been mildly perturbed in the first place, because of the ferocity of the feelings. Something like that.

“A lot more than I’m willing to throw on your shoulders, Pops.”

Patton pouted. Actually. Fucken. Pouted. The worst part was, his puppy-face was actually working.

“Ugh,” Remus rolled his eyes, “Just- could I- I dunno, have a hug, or some shit?”

If Patton was surprised, he hid it well. God knew, that wasn’t exactly the kind of thing Remus would ask for. He almost never asked to get attention- taking it was much easier, and much more entertaining. Besides, if he’d ever asked before that point… well, he already knew what answer he would’ve gotten.

Patton’s smile only widened, until it was positively melting. “Of course you can,” he shut the sink off. “Of course.”

He reached haphazardly for a hand towel, to dry his arms. Remus, riding the high of that enthusiastic permission, absolutely could not wait that long. He latched his arms around Patton’s middle before the side had even finished talking, burying his face between his shoulder blades and hugging tight.

Patton went still, like he didn’t know what to do. After it became clear that Remus had no intention to move, Patton laughed, dreamy and soft, and shook his hands as dry as he could. He patted Remus’ forearm; bead-bracelets clattered under the Duke’s sleeves.

“Hey,” Patton said.

“Mmh?”

“Not that this isn’t lovely,” he laced his fingers with Remus’, squeezed them, “But I’d like it better if I could hug you back, ya know?”

Remus let go, reluctantly. In the true fashion of intrusive thoughts, there was a second he was so convinced Patton would run, now that he was freed. Make an escape from him, an escape from his claws.

He didn’t. He spun right around and pulled Remus against his chest- one arm linked around his torso, the other winding into his tangled hair. Anyone, at a glance, could see that Patton was huge- but up close the difference was dizzying: his wide chest, encircling arms that seemed to be made of nothing but muscle and padding, and that height, all made him so… comforting. Big and strong, a body that disguised power in soft edges and fat. If he squeezed just a little too tight, in fact, Remus wouldn’t be surprised if Patton could make splinters out of his bones. Which Remus definitely, definitely wouldn’t mind, but the knowledge that Patton not only could do that but also wouldn’t ever do that- that was what really did him in.

And he’d hugged Patton before- months ago, and somehow Patton had seemed so small then, when everything had started- but being hugged? Properly, too, not underwater while one of them was drowning- it was a world of difference. No panic, no breakdowns, just a real, solid hug.

He could just ask for this and then have it. He could smell sugar cookies and candle wax, and feel somebody- a willing body- pressing in. It was weird. He thought that someday, he might get used to it. He wanted a chance to get used to it.

“Do you wanna talk now?” Patton prompted, forcibly reminding Remus that he had a bloodhound’s nose for emotional distress.

“I don’t know.”

Patton hummed, his fingers scratching through Remus’ hair. “Today went better than I thought it would.”

“You didn’t have to bring me, if you thought it was gonna be bad.”

“I wasn’t worried because of you! I was worried because of me. Things have been… a lot for me, lately.”

“Oh,” Remus angled his head to the side, looking up at him. “Yeah. I feel ya.”

“But they were all so much more patient, weren’t they,” Patton’s eyes went a little misty, the way they always did when he talked about his family. “Everything’s different now, and I guess that scared me, but I think that now… it’s a good different, you know?”

“Like us, right?” Remus laughed, “This is the craziest difference, if ya think about it.”

Patton chuckled, the sound reverberating in his chest so that Remus felt it more than heard it.

“I don’t think I would’ve gotten through with today without you, you know that?”

It was deeply honest. There was a beat.

“I-” Oh fuck, Remus was choked up, when did that happen? “I wouldn’t have even had a day like today, without you, so. Do with that what you want.”

Remus buried his face in Patton’s sternum, just to avoid the sad understanding in his eyes.

He- he wasn’t exactly made for the care he was getting, not the kind of softness in that face. Not when Patton was still patiently untangling his matt of hair while they hovered in the stillness of the dark, empty kitchen, and Remus desperately didn’t want to cry.

Patton gave him a minute to breathe, at the very least, before:

“They like you, though. Janus loves you.”

“Yeah, okay, but it’s not-”

“I know how you feel,” said Patton, and did. “Like they couldn’t actually care about us, even though it doesn’t make sense for them not to. It’s one of those things that’s easy to forget,” Remus could hear the smile in his voice. “So it’s good we have each other, when we need to get out of our own heads. At least, it’s like that for me, I don’t know if you even-”

“No,” Remus curled his claws in the back of Patton’s shirt, something dark and emotional flooding like tar through his chest. “Nah, you’re right, Morey. This is good for us.”

Remus shook his head at nothing in particular. He forced his hands unballed, pulled back, and wormed his way out of Patton’s hug after way too long.

His skin felt like paper from the affection, like he’d been electrocuted, and while that was fun- was amazing- for a while, he didn’t think he could handle much more in one sitting.

Patton let him go, smiling warmly, leaning back against the counter. His eyes were shiny and wet, but he was content.

“Thanks,” Remus said.

“What for? The hug?”

“No- I mean, that too, but I was saying ‘thanks, for caring’. For giving enough of a shit about me to try and help.”

Patton smiled, solemnly.

“I told you so,” he breathed, “I promised I would like you when I got to know you, and then I did. I do!”

Remus felt a grin returning to his face, sliding across his lips more naturally than anything else he’d had to deal with that night.

“Yeah. You aren’t too bad yourself, Pat.”

Chapter Seven

Taglist: @shrimp-crockpot @glitter-skeleton-uwu @donnieluvsthings @intruxiety @thefivecalls @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @gayformlessblob

#sanders sides #ts #fanfiction #fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #ts fanfic #intruality #qpr intruality #platonic intruality #remus #patton

23 notes · View notes

soulwillower · 5 years ago

Text

sincerity is scary • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

[title from sincerity is scary by the 1975]

requested: can i request the reader preventing richie from scoring with other girls and he gets mad at her because he thinks she does it to annoy him until he realizes she does it because she likes him and teases her?

warning: swearing, weed, they’re at a party so implied alcohol use, fluff and a small amount of angst maybe, very unedited

[losers + reader are 18]

1.7k words

♡

richie had never really noticed it until tonight.

it was always just coincidence that you, his best friend, always happened to interrupt when he's about to score with someone. at first he thought it was funny, when you threw up on that one girl's lap in the back of stan's car just as he and the girl were about to kiss. and it was kind of funny when you'd get frustrated, begging richie to find something you'd lost right and physically dragging him away when he was getting especially chatty with someone.

he never really did mind, because you were y/n and there was nothing in this world that richie wouldn't do for you. you were y/n, his best friend, and you were the most incredible person in the world. he'd had feelings for ages, so it was kind of funny when you cock blocked him because he loved the irony of it.

it was funny until tonight.

this time it was intentional, he knew because he was literally alone with a girl from school in a bedroom at a party, shotgunning her rips from her bong because her ‘lungs were weak.’ he knew it was bullshit but she looked enough like you to pass in his sick mind.

but suddenly you burst in, a bullshit excuse dying in your throat as you lay your beautiful eyes on richie, bong in his hands and exhaling smoke into another girl’s lungs.

"get out, i need to talk to richie." you say to the girl, offering a smile that didn't look completely genuine to richie. the girl shakes her head, "but we're b-"

"out! please!" you add on the plead, and richie can tell its in order to remain civil. the girl listens though, grabbing her bong from richie's hands as he stares, gaping at you. the girl throws richie and you both a separate look before leaving, down the hallway and into the crowd.

"christ, y/n! what the hell is wrong with you?" he hisses, staring out the door as the girl walks down the hallway.

he stands to his full height and stalks over to you. what the fuck is your issue? he's pissed. why can't you let him fucking live his life?

"what are you talking about?" you stutter, eyes bouncing around.

"i may have shit eyesight, toots, but i'm not fucking blind. stop trying to fucking mess with me." he says frustratedly, crossing his arms and staring pointedly at you. you look alarmed and shocked that richie called you out but a twist in your lips makes him double take.

"i'm not messing with you, i just- i need-" you babble your words and richie groans, getting more angry by the second. why do you have to make trying to ignore his feelings for you so hard?

"what's your aim here, then?" he hisses, and your face blooms red. he squints, thinking back to all the times you'd interrupted him from hooking up with someone... were you jealous?

"y/n/n..." he says slyly, a grin growing on his face. you immediately scowl at the mischievous look on his face. "do you like me? you're jealous of all the people, you just want me for yourself, don’t you?" he smirks, laughing a bit.

you look almost mortified, but richie pays barely any mind, "wow!" he notices you trying to turn around and dart out the door and he jumps. thinking on his toes, richie's arm shoots out to hold the door shut.

“no, no, y/n. you aren’t going anywhere.” you look anywhere but him, your face flustered and arms crossed.

"you like me." he laughs, feeling bewildered at his revelation. "i thought it was because you wanted to annoy me, but... oh. man, that is... that's so not what i'd expected." he feels like a weight had been lifted off his chest the moment he'd figured it out.

you like him. y/n fucking y/l/n likes him.

he can't believe it; his heart is racing, his head is spinning and he really doesn't think it's because of the weed.

but maybe he was a tiny bit higher than he'd foreseen, because your figure was suddenly gone and he was left alone in the room. "shit." he mumbles, running out of the room to see your figure already leaving through the front door.

it takes only a few seconds to find bill and stan, toss them his keys, and scream some type of elated jumble of your name and an ungodly amount of obscenities before he's out the door, the cold air making him instantly wonder if you had brought a jacket to the party.

his mind flashes to all his memories of what you were wearing tonight and he softly huffs, shaking his head as he jogs forward, hoping to find you around the block.

you're laying under a stop sign at the end of the street, staring up at the sky while your body is encased in the summer grass.

god, richie swears he's never met anybody like you.

he thinks briefly that maybe he should tell you that, but his motormouth spits out, "you get tired of running or something?" you turn to look at him, looking exhausted. he wants to kiss you.

"something like that." you mutter, turning your head to face away.

richie tuts as he lowers himself to sit criss-crossed next to you in the cool grass. he shucks off his jacket and tosses it on top of you, hoping you'd take it as an olive branch - one that smells like weed and cigarettes, probably his mom's detergent, and has a few unexplainable stains - but an olive branch none the less.

"hey now, you're not the one who gets to be angry at me." he says, almost physically face-palming. why is he being so richie about this right now?

he smirks after you stay silent, kind of panicking that he’d guessed wrong. he decides to play it off, "if you wanted me to shotgun you then i'd have been more than happy to do that, honey. you just gotta ask, not chase ‘em off." he says, shaking his head slightly right after. god.

"richie, please... don't make this harder for me." you say quickly, looking to him and looking immediately away. his heart feels like a pit and he shakes his head, cursing his stupid mouth. "y/n/n... hey, please look at me." he says. you slowly roll your head to look up at him, his jacket still laying across your torso as though you're afraid to touch it.

"i'm sorry that i'm bad at this. i don't-i don't know how to..." he trails off and groan, rubbing his eyes with his fist, knocking his glasses up his face. "do you actually like me? is that why you ran away back there?" he asks, looking into your sparkling eyes.

you sigh and he can't help but admire you. you're grounding for him - he watches the way the lines of your face move, notices how perfect your skin tone looks under the moonlight, the way your lips move as you form words.

you look like you're straight out of a silver screen, but with the beautiful flaws and realness of a human - a real, living breathing human that richie might be in love with.

he notices you look slightly defeated as you mumble, "yeah, richie. but d-don't worry, i promise i won't let it ruin our friendship, i can just-" you're rambling, you're nervous, and richie realizes that he's been such an idiot.

"wait, wait, wait. y/n, you can't possibly think that i don't like you?" he asks in bewilderment, his hand landing in the grass near your shoulder. his legs are getting slightly cramped from being folded underneath himself, but all he can focus on is you.

you just blink up at him in shock. "what?" you mutter, looking slightly embarrassed. he chuckles, "look at you, toots! jesus, i swear to god i've been following you around like i'm a goddamn mickey mouse and you're a freshly baked pie since we were fucking fourteen." he bursts, chuckling to himself. you sit up slightly, your legs still stretched in the grass and richie's jacket falling into your lap. "what?!" you say, your voice slightly higher pitched. your face is much closer that he'd expected. he loves it so, so much.

richie just laughs and shakes his head, in complete disbelief that you'd ever thought for a second that he didn't like you. "seriously, y/n, i think i got my first real boner from you because of that one time that y-" he's cut off when you give him a rough shove, pushing him to the grass.

he laughs, his lungs empty but his heart full as your face hovers above him, your angelic features eclipsing his vision.

"you're such a fucking douchebag, richie. i don't get you." you say, and richie just grins because all he can feel is your hand against his chest and his thumping heart.

"that's just part of my charm, baby." he says cheerily, making you whack him lightly with an eye roll. god, he lives for those eye rolls.

and then you lean down lower and catch his lips with your own. it's soft and quick, like you're nervous he'll pull back and say that it was just a prank - but honestly, he can't blame you for that after the night he'd just put you through.

so he pulls you flush against him, kissing you firmly and passionately and pulling you on top of him. you giggle into the kiss as he pinches your ass lightly and he gently licks into your mouth.

he’s never been happier.

sadly, your kiss is cut short by hollering, the sound of richie's shitty engine, and the losers piled in the bed of richie's truck at the stop sign. the lights are blinding and the screams and hollers from the losers and the back and bill and stan in the front are deafening.

richie groans, head laying back in the grass and you laugh, the sounds of an angel, getting off of him and pulling on his jacket.

he just about dies at how you look in it, but you're pulling him up and into the bed of the truck, nuzzling your head into his neck. the two of you cuddle up in the back with the others, howling at the stars as stan flies down the streets of derry towards ben's house.

#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier #the losers club #losers x reader #stanley uris #bill denbrough #ben hanscom #mike hanlon #beverly marsh #my writing #richie tozier smut

193 notes · View notes