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ncitygirls · 3 years ago

Text

only - changbin x f reader

angst, fluff, suggestive, royal!au, cw: war, 5.3k

you were barely eighteen when you accepted the hand in marriage of the son of the duke and duchess of levanter. seo changbin - an affluent heir to an impossible fortune - almost had you surprised when you found his interest in you was unlike that of your fellow bachelorettes. naturally, their interest was fuelled by an insatiable greed and a hot desire for financial prosperity. as should yours, as was yours. not changbin though. no, changbin prided himself on many things unfitting for a man of his status, even his age. he wondered not of your family’s alliances or existing trading partners, but of religion and upbringing. he tsked at mention of your international estates, unless in regard to your memories there. he was complimentary of your attire, less in expense but rather in beauty. changbin wanted to know of your favourite season, and your preferred time of day. who was your favourite poet, and from them your favourite poem. he was obsessed with your knowledge of the world, or rather your interest in it. you had been to neo, but did you really see it, really explore? and if not would you care to? did you prefer sugar or honey in your tea? your bread buttered or oiled? to sleep bare or in silk? he wanted to know what side of the bed you preferred to sleep on, if you were adverse to cuddling and if so, if you could be persuaded.

to be fair, he only spoke with you like this for two reasons. the first being your shared upbringing. after almost two decades of friendship, having you enter his home in the prospect of being his wife didn’t come as a surprise to the young bachelor, but rather a relief. he spent days in and days out discussing family politics, ancestry, and accounts. he chose to ignore the blatant issue there, sharing the intricacies of his family’s wealth and heritage with these ladies from kingdoms and countries he’d been too busy to pay any mind in schooling. he knew his ignorance could come back to bite him and it did, especially as you entered his home looking far prettier than he had ever recalled you looking. he held his tongue before he could whistle, but you could see his smirk all the same. it softened into a grin as he bowed, you returning the pleasantry with a lot less pleasantness than he offered you. he welcomed it all the same. it was why he could be free on this day. speak about the things that would effect you two as one another’s, not you two as one.

your presence also meant he didn’t have to pussyfoot around. he didn’t have to fear your hatred, nor your judgement. though your eyes rolled more than the actual number of potential brides he had become acquainted with. he let f bombs slip, and his guard down. he frolicked with you through the grounds you already knew so well, and guided you through the parts once forbidden to the rambunctious children you once were. he walked you to the kitchen and asked for bread, as opposed to stealing it like you both once would. he tried to describe the estate’s chambers as best he could, detailing the art a then prince hyunjin had gifted him and your childish scratchings still on his door frame.

‘you can see it one day,’ he had whispered under the willow tree on the grounds, watching the way your fingers clung loosely to the weeping leaves. ‘it’s still as it was when we were children.’

‘and how would i do that?’ the question is valid enough, though he frowns, tilting his head. ‘i did not realise i had uttered a riddle, my lord.’

‘well neither had i,’ he tutted, moving to latch onto the same branch you once held. ‘and here i was, assuming you to be the smart one.’

‘i am the smart one.’

‘then answer me this,’ he began, pausing to firmly elaborate, ‘plainly.’ your eyes roll for the umpteenth time at his silent warning before you concede with a nod. ‘how might you see my bed?’

with a sigh you deadpan, ‘if you were to make me your wife.’

‘so to see my bed, and your vandalism-’

‘scribbles.’

‘i must make you my wife.’

‘it seems quite the extreme just to see some old scribbles.’ if changbin senses the hidden meaning to your words, he gave nought away. ‘mightn’t someone just bring me a piece of the bed? i’m sure it’s almost past its use, just peel the pane off. and why still the same bed? you are a young lord of age now, don’t you think-’

‘you know you prattle when you’re nervous?’

‘i do no such thing-’

‘it’s cute.’

‘changbin! how are you so sure i want to be your wife, hm?’ you half questioned, moving away from his looming figure. ‘i only came because your parents asked me here.’

‘y/n, i have known you a long time,’ he punctuates his reminder by closing the distance you so bravely placed between you. ‘if you wished not to be here, you would have found no greater pleasure than to decline the invitation.’ that much is not only true but undeniable. the seo’s was your third courting invite this month alone. you knew, and worse, changbin knew. ‘is it so hard to admit that i might have soften that hardened heart of yours?’

‘i find no pleasure in your games, changbin.’

‘what game, y/n? can a man not just want you?’ your eyes betray you as you try to expel the softness conjured by his taunt. a taunt that is starting to sound less like a taunt, and more like a confession. ‘can i not just want you?’

‘how do i know you want me, bin?’ you pressed, pressing your back to the leaning trunk of the all encompassing tree. ‘how do i know you don’t just want a way out of this endless cycle of mindless heiresses?’

‘you said my parents asked you here?’ your head bobbed as he approached you, nodding in time with you before he stopped a foot before you, smiling eyes gazing right at you. ‘who do you think asked them?’

you were married that fall. under that same willow tree, in the presence of his royal highness and his kin, your family and the seos. the affair was small like you both wanted. small like your needs. you joked marrying you was a cop out, as he spun you around the gardens, escaping the intimate celebrations in the grand banquet hall to enjoy the breeze on your skin and feel the wind in your hair. it was the first time he held you since your dance lessons as kids. where you would lead and he would follow. he once swore he would follow you anywhere. both literally and figuratively. around the grounds of your childhood home, in all your beliefs and ideologies. he filled his mind and self with your gospel and truth, infatuated with your manner of thinking, how you arrived at conclusions. changbin spent his whole childhood falling in love with you.

‘you weren’t a cop out,’ he breathed into the shell of your ear, humming as you lay your head on his shoulder. pressing his lips to your temple he confessed, ‘you were my only choice.’

that night, the two of you consummated your marriage under that same willow tree. his hands clinging to your waist as he ground his hips into you. his tightened breaths filling the drum of your ear with every snap, his lips closing around the skin of your jaw, summoning the most satisfying whines he could draw from you. his lover. his friend. his lady.

in his absence, you remind him of this night. how biting the bark had been on your skin, the autumn air stinging your already teary eyes. his last letter arrived over a fortnight ago, it spoke of his fears at battle, the treacherous methods of his enemies. the only face he prays to see again and until that day, the only face he will dream of. you have sent a handful of letters since then, yet still sour as you awake another day to no news. you sigh as you grab your quill, letting the ink drip before signing off your letter.

‘my dearest, changbin. a season separates us, but only a season could.’

it isn’t long after you seal it that you are summoned to the hwang holiday estate. the royal family have a long history of retreating to the country when the weather is a touch higher than that of luke warm water, or near cool cinder. the seo’s residence is but a short carriage ride from the estate, though a tad longer walk. you often opt to walk as you do today, taking no larger than foot long strides between the cobbled paths. your guard walks in time with you, though no more than a few feet behind. he had never been one for small talk, you quickly came to realise. though, since neither is your husband, you feel an odd sense of relief, normality, even in his absence. you try and enjoy the song of the breeze through the willow, the scent of the king’s rose garden carried on its back. it’s hard over the creak of your guard’s hurried stomps, his pace doubling with every corner you take. you only verbalise your awareness of his impatience when he arrives beside you, hastened to strike the door to announce your arrival.

“master yang,” you call softly as you two await entry. “if i did not know any better, i would say you were rushing me.”

“apologies, my lady,” he confesses, stepping back at your side without any question. though, when he gulps, you eye him with a softened concern. “i was informed you were summoned due to a grave emergency.”

“worry not, jeongin.” you chide, recalling your highness’ idea of an emergency. “the king often calls when the queen is away and he is tasked with matters such as assigning dinner seating.” jeongin looks as if he is about to ask when you add, “she says his involvement humbles him.” when he nods, you straighten as the door swings open, a servant welcoming you in. “yes, there is nothing to fear, master yang.”

only, falser words had never been spoken.

you are quick to note the tremor in the king’s frame as he hurries to stand upon your arrival, rushing you through the official pleasantries of an official summoning. “lady seo.”

“your highness.” you reply, your knee bending as you politely lower your head. “how are you on this fine afternoon-”

“i apologise, y/n. but as you know, i didn’t call you hear on matters of leisure.” he politely interrupts, a flush of embarrassment flooding his cheeks as you frown. “when was last you heard from him?”

“heard from who?”

“from—” hyunjin’s confused gaze cuts to his informants, a few members of his court shying away from him before he marvels at them. “has lady seo not been informed?” when he receives no reply, you feel yourself shrink as the gentle king bellows, “why has lady seo not been informed?”

“informed of what—”

“the order of information begins with yourself sire, before reaching the court, the council, the lady and then the people.”

“i specifically requested she be kept informed. why has she not been kept informed?”

“well, your grace, the lady of a knight is only to be informed once official word is received from the battlefield and delivered to you sire.”

“official word of what—”

“which came through this morning and you are about to deliver the information to the lady.”

“king hyunjin!”

gasps fill the room from all but the king himself. he doesn’t falter, instead he turns to move towards you, his eyes growing more fearful, more earnest as he approaches. he shudders at the thought of delivering this message. he even scolds himself for attempting to delegate such responsibility. you are a friend. not only to the crown, but to the royal family itself. before heavy crowns kissed their heads. before rings ever kissed your knuckles. you were his friend. you had always been a friend to him, and the only time you had ever needed him was now and he had let you down.

“we received word that neo soldiers stormed our fortress in miroh. while we have received word from a few troops who were able to escape, we have yet to ascertain who of the full fleet have made it to safety.” when he pauses to gulp he sees your eyes gleam, breaths shallow. his hands then find yours, gripping your shaky, sweaty digits tightly. “we have received no word from changbin’s troop,” he stops when you gasp, your tears falling, cascading down and around your stained cheeks, your lip trembling. “but we have been able to track a number of our men back through the yellow wood, south of levanter.”

“i-is he there? is he okay?”

“we are yet to hear word,” the tears continue to fall, and he hates himself but all he can do is continue, divulge everything he knows. “they plan to set up camp on the edge of the wood, so i will make my way there now and have word sent back to you as soon as i find him.”

“no,” you refuse, snatching your hands away to drag them over your stained cheeks. “i cannot wait, i will join you.”

“as will i,” jeongin pipes up behind you, his voice an odd comfort once more. “your grace.”

“it is no place for a lady,” hyunjin tries, sighing when you just scowl, already mid curtsey as you preempt his agreement and dismissal. “i will have a carriage sent for you at once.”

“would taking just a horse quicken my arrival?”

“i-it would,” he discloses reluctantly, watching you ready yourself to decline the carriage. “for my sake though,” your scowl returns, ignoring the concern from the king. “i implore you to take the carriage. the yellow wood is far from kind..” you decode his meaning before he ever finishes speaking. the yellow wood is far from safe.

“but is this not the same wood my husband’s troop plans to take, sire?” hyunjin’s nod comes seconds later, shame tensing his jaw. hyunjin is visibly trying to appreciate your patience after having all this information dumped on you. but hyunjin also recalls the threats you readily made and followed through on in your younger years. so much so, he fears the worst of you when you bow before slowly approaching him, voice but a decibel higher than a nat’s buzz to threaten him. the king. before as many witnesses as it takes to have your head. “fine. i will take the carriage.

“but i regret to inform you i have fallen victim to the sick allure of hope. so if this carriage takes him from me? if i am too late? i will burn your kingdom to the ground, jinnie. mark my words.”

only once you leave does hyunjin breathe, noticably shaken by the violent rage existing within the women of his kingdom. “ready her carriage.” he suddenly commands, terrified of letting you down. “i want her there by nightfall.”

hyunjin had not embellished the treachery of this road. you had halted close to ten times in the first six hours of the journey. thanks to forewarning by the king and his council, your guards were prepared to be extra vigilant. weary from all sides of the carriage, bandits who fell from the trees and ambushed from the sides did not live long enough to prevail. from dawn til dusk, the wood falsified night with its woven rotted branches and the gradually setting sun, seeing was becoming more hopeless yet more crucial. without a maid for travelling company and jeongin busy guarding your personage, you were once again left with your thoughts. in times of dire woe, you called on memories of your love, though they read more like dreams. this dream is one that only longing for the man you prayed awaited you on the end of this perilous journey could conjure. because not only do you miss him, you fear for him. not much has changed.

‘you think i am going to get myself killed?’ he breathed, nipping at your clavicle as you rest in his lap. ‘have you no faith in me?’

‘of course i do,’ you defend, gasping as he clamps down, teeth rolling your skin. ‘i just-’

‘you just.. what?’ he doesn’t expect an answer. or so you suspect. especially following a slow drag of your thinly veiled heat over his firmed thigh. ‘you think i would ever abandon you?’

‘no, binnie,’ you start, rising from him with a sigh. ‘i just know you.’

‘you do?’ he ponders sweetly, gazing up at your shining eyes. ‘and what is it you know?’

‘you’re powerful, but far too stubborn.’

‘you know,’ he hums, crossing his thick arms as a small pout steals the lips of the strongest man in the kingdom. ‘for someone who claims to adore me, you tend to speak ill of me every chance you get, my lady.’

‘must the two be exclusive?’ when his frown only deepens, his folded arms tightening, you sigh once more. returning to his spread legs, you perch yourself on them, raising your steady fingers to the creases painting the forehead of the most stubborn man you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. he softens only slightly, his pouted lip closing around yours when you lean in, silently asking his forgiveness. ‘for every ill spoken word, i make up for with countless good, bin.’

‘such as?’ he huffs, knowingly egging you on.

with a small smile, you offer a final peck to his lips before praising the knight beneath you. ‘i know you will fight valiantly.’ you admit, pride permeating right through you to the man you call yours. ‘you will bring honour to your family, to your country.’ with the pads of your fingers, you tuck his hair behind his ear, cooing as he relaxes at your touch. ‘you will be a hero, my love.’

‘and this all worries you?’

‘do you know who will keep your legacy alive, changbin?’ his frown returns at concern for your quivering lip, a sudden fear seeping into your tone. ‘me. your widow.’ he begins to shake his head, a half assed assurance on the tip of his prideful tongue when you remind, ‘it may vex you to hear this, but please remember your knighting was in part an award for your bravery, but also in large part to hyunjin’s love for you.’

‘how can you say that-’

‘since bang chan the brave, name a knight who lived to see his knighting. just one, bin. name one who knelt before their king and felt the sword atop their shoulders. name one who did not die in battle, leaving their grieving widow to accept a meaningless commendation of his honour?’

‘you call your father’s commendation meaningless?’

‘don’t make me laugh, bin.’ your scoff would wound him had you not uttered, ‘i would have rathered he be the one to walk me down the isle the day i married you. knowing my father loved me enough to protect his country is a nice sentiment, but don’t you dare assume i would take that honour over his life.’

‘hey,’ he calls, holding you in his lap as you try to move from him. ‘my love, i didn’t mean to offend.’

‘i know,’ in these seconds you see past the facade, the knight that your husband is. you only see what you fell in love with. you see the compassion, the understanding. ‘bin, i need you to understand. really understand.’ with his cheeks cradled in your palms, you plead with your love. ‘you mean everything to me, seo changbin. before i ever realised you did. i will not let this mindless war take you from me.

‘don’t be a hero, changbin. leave that to some village boy with a chip on his shoulder, with something to prove.’ he nuzzles into your palm as he listens to your plea, gazing into your warning eyes. ‘just come back to me, okay? don’t make me beg.’

‘what if it helped your case?’ he mumbled into your skin, his lips gently puckering as his palms glide up the side of your neck. his tongue slid betwixt your parted lips, trying to exorcise any and all tension from your trembling frame. with another soft pucker of his lips, a suck on your wet muscle has you loosening, falling into him as he moves to embrace you. ‘would you?’

‘do not mock me.’

‘i would never,’ you find this hard to believe as he smirks like a man with ten knives readied for your back. they come as kisses instead, they line the column of your neck, followed closely by his thumbs as he angles your head toward him. ‘you just seem ready to, so i would love to hear it.’

‘perhaps i will marry that lee boy, with the speckled cheeks. i hear the maids think he’s a descendant of fairies, born from the very stars that kiss his face-’ the words halt in your throat as he flips you, firmly pinning you to the goose down.

‘you seem to have thought this through..’

‘have i much choice?’ you huff, glaring at his thoughtful gaze. ‘one tends to ponder such things when faced with their husband’s imminent demise.’ he only sighs, eyes rolling skyward as he asks the gods, old and new, why they ever chose you for him. ‘i hear his line is filled only with beautiful men. who was his ancestor again? minho the something.’

‘you know,’ refusing to come to your aid, he gathering up the hem of your silks. ‘most men would have your head by now.’

‘-magnificent! it was minho the magnificent!’

‘maleficent.’

‘hm?’

‘his name,’ nipping at the exposed skin of your chest, his hand tugs at the starched fabric as he corrects you. ‘it was minho the maleficent.’

‘oh,’ you breathe, less in defeat but rather in sweet contentment. ‘and why is that?’

‘because, my sweet,’ he huffs into your chest, resting on the heels of his palms planted either side of your cushioned head. ‘he burned all of levanter to the ground when his queen died.’

‘yes, he did.’ changbin only strokes the skin of your cheek as you pout, his eyes rolling at your uncanny ability to bring everything back to his encroaching departure. ‘and my husband will not even skip one war for me.’

‘’one war’?’ he smirks, dropping his lips to your exposed breast, tongue sweeping over your teased nipples. ‘you speak as though war is like an evening in a tavern.’

‘both tend to end in regret,’ you jest, or attempt to. it is growing increasingly difficult to barter with him as he presses his lips to your stomach, his body lowering in kind with his touch. before he can disappear entirely from view, you rise. as he rises with you, you are stunned by his rosey cheeks, the flush journeying to his neck as you rest on your elbows. he sees your turmoil. your clear desire for him shadowed painfully by your love and fear. he drops a kiss to your hip, his knuckles dusting the veiled bead of your heat, eyes hard on you as you falter, head lolling to the side before you regain your strength. ‘bin?’

‘hm?’

‘stay.’ it’s faint. so faint he barely recognises it as a plea. he only sighs, his forehead pressed to your abdomen as he purges your wet eyes from his memory. ‘please say you will stay. i cannot bear the thought of a winter without you.’

‘my love,’ changbin speaks into your skin, lowly beseeching your understanding while praying for your peace. ‘a season might separate us,’ he hums, expertly parting your thighs as he offers a lone kiss to your mound. ‘but only a season could.’

“my lady?” jeongin’s voice is first to break you from your nostalgic nightmare. the second is the cries of injured men. “we have arrived.”

the edge of the wood is a wounded minefield. limbless soldiers, knights and footmen alike, are dotted around the dimly lit field. your eyes gloss over at the heaped bodies, and water at the stench. “how long have they been here?”

“just under a week,” jeongin recalls, holding his hand out to stop you as medics pass with a burnt body on a stretcher. “it is hard to believe this is the winning camp.”

“there are no winners in war, jeongin.” you whisper, watching a man close the eyes of his fallen comrade a pair approach to drop his body in a mass grave. a fight ensues. “only loss.”

“y/n?” you halt at the call, half sprinting at the sight of han jisung, wearing a smile warm enough to light the night. “i thought his highness was jesting when he said you’d be here.”

“han!” you cried, latching onto him with a grip that nearly winded him. “thank god, thank god.”

“more like thank changbin,” he wheezed, squeezing you back just as tight, lifting you a few feet off the ground. “had he not been here, i would have surely-”

“where is he?”

“-died.” he only grins as you stiffen, recognising his part in your terror a second too late. “oh! no! he isn’t dead! he is alive! very alive!” his eyes flicker to a scowling jeongin, gulping down an apology as he gestures to his left. “come.”

further from the wood and slowly decaying corpses are the tents. some somehow less grand than a teepee, some spacious enough for a few hours sleep. jisung guides you both up to the largest of the lot, where you find an ill tempered king hyunjin growing increasingly more so. “no, leave him be.”

“had we known you were coming your grace- we can have him moved immediately.”

“your king gave you an order, soldier.” jisung chimes in, tongue slotting into the swell of his cheek as he gestures to you over his shoulder. “now move out of the way or i’ll have you explain to lady seo why she can’t see her husband on account of your insubordinance.”

“yes, sir.”

hyunjin bristles at jisung’s ability to command his men with little effort before he softens at your restless gaze. “he’s been asking for you.”

the grandeur of the king’s tent suits changbin well, you think. a fire crackles at the furthest end, masked only by a large canopy where you know he rests. the four poster bed takes up most of the space, and around it lays tin bowls, rags, blankets and water. the room seems barely lived in bar the knight whose faint breaths float toward you through the warm air. you feel yourself stalling, too busy taking in the space to recognise your fear. what will you find when you pull the curtain away? what remains of your husband, your lover, your friend? will he still have the same warm eyes and full cheeks? will his hands still fit in yours? his feet still step in time with yours? will he look the same, sound the same even? you swallow down this fear, and instead bask in the joy that he’s alive. your husband is alive. and nothing separates you. not a season, nor a wood. not time or conflict. only your fears.

and then they don’t. when you pull back the veil, nothing separates you but air. a soft man made gust as you reveal the man you’d once called your friend, only to call your betrothed and then yours. the fire barely lights the room yet still he glows. he lies bare from the waist up, his abdomen bandaged in rolls of cotton, his chest exposed. you watch it, the slow rise and fall of the place you longed to rest your head, you dreamt of dreaming on. before you realise, you have lowered yourself beside him, careful not to disturb him, nor his wound. before you can call for him he smiles. even in his state of slumber, he leans into your touch. before you meet his eyes, you feel his on you.

“you came.” he whispers, a heavy breath of relief escaping him as your thumb dusts his cheek.

“of course,” you try, before taking your lip between your teeth, fearful your tears might dampen his skin. you kneel at his side, carefully ridding yourself of your outer garments, before returning your hand to his cheek. “how do you feel?”

“now?” he smirks, wincing as a laugh runs through him. “wonderful.”

“and before?”

“so, so.” he murmurs with a kiss to your palm. “a sword to the stomach will do that to you.”

“do i have han jisung to thank for that?”

“no,” he coughs, recalling his sacrifice. “only me.”

“well that’s good,” you hum, employing the upmost care when leaning over him. “because i would hate to think my knight was blindsided.”

“never,” his assurance fans your lips, as yours hover over his. “only by you.”

you almost forgot how it felt to kiss him. the feeling only coming in dreams. there was no memory strong enough to conjure the feeling of his lips pressed against yours. the slow melt of tender skin on skin, the warmth, his gentle caress. his kiss is slow, but even in his prime he took his time. his lips close around yours with such timing and precision, ushering a slow burn of desire from the heels of your feet all the way up to the crown of your head. he knew how to expunge pain and fear from you, to free you from your demons, to reinvigorate you. to love you.

he’s weak. in all the worst ways. his body, his will. he raises his hand to your neck, pulling you closer as he presses his tongue between your lips, connecting the muscles with little intent of parting. he swallows around you, drinking you in, keeping that same, slow and teasing pace. only to pull you closer.

“you need your rest,” you pant into his mouth, resting all your weight on your arms as he pulls you back down, pinning your forehead to his.

“no,” he refuses, sweeping his thumb along your jaw. “i need you.” his voice shakes then, unlike him. unlike the man you know. “only you.”

“is that why you called me here?” you tease, silently wiping his tears away, silently reading the fear in his eyes. he begs them away though warms at your easy dispelling. “to use me?”

“my love,” he laughs, ignoring the pain in favour of basking in your smile. “you know i did not call for you.” when you move to argue, he recalls, as if he were there, “‘would taking just a horse quicken my arrival?’”

“i might have been here sooner if-”

“this,” raising his other arm, he gathers your face in his palms, “is soon enough.”

safe.

“okay.” you agree, allowing him to tug you closer once more. you let him kiss you without restraint. you let him curl his fingers into your neck, ignoring his wincing and kiss him through it. you let his grunts mask his pain, his teeth rolling your lip between the rows, you let him share it. you let him have you, because despite the odds he stayed alive. he stayed alive for you. and that was enough. “i love you.”

he blinks up at your shining eyes, guiding your wet cheeks to his puckered lips. “i love you,” he whispers back against your lips, feeling himself heal at just the touch of your hand. “only you.”

because only a season separated you. but now, not even a season could.

#so #changbin #seo changbin #changbin smut #changbin fluff #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #dno if it counts as angst #stray kids au #ncitygirls #skz au #skz smut #skz changbin #lol it is angst #skz angst #changbin angst #stray kids angst

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oro-e-diamanti · 4 years ago

Text

Quiet Music: Capriccio (Chapter 4)

In collaboration with @bethanysnow whose ask box is always open for questions, comments, and anything else about this story as well!

Catching the small flames of romance, starting to get turned on higher. They have a tour to do, right? Not spend all their time making goo-goo eyes at each other.....unless?

Content | Fluff

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word Count | 8274

Taglist | @damianodavide @lizstans @unitermoonshine @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you@vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @juststalking @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @cheese-toastie-11 @thewitchinthemountain @ethanesimp @sofckinelectric @man3skin @daddydamiano @finelinejpm @superchrystaldrug @ginny-lily @nientedaridere @rainbowmarta @tiaamberxx @shaunthesheesh @enjcltaire @rocketqueen @aleksanderwh0r3 @dacey0eg @damianodavidhands @megann-duff @teatrodellavita @solasullabarca @fanfictionandfluff @makapaka11 @slave4yourlove @geklutst-ei @bookish0918 @mehrmonga @kanevill @butterfly-skinnylegend @lidiyabest @ccweasley @bluscryn @deluxeplanteater @ohtorchio @bidet-and-legolas @maybanksslut @katyldamusic @fedorable-killjoys

***

"Thomas," Y/n stared down as he entered the bus. "When I gave you my personal number it was meant for emergencies, not you texting me because you forgot what "sempiternal" means in the middle of the night. What were you reading anyway?!"

"Nothing." Thomas looked up at her from where he was sitting, wide eyes, feigning innocence.

Y/n shook her head, not believing the guitarist and his horrible poker face, but not being bothered enough to question him any further either. “Well, next time you have a question like that in the middle of the night, ask google instead.” She gave him a warm smile and a little pat on the head as she passed him by, moving down the hallway of the tour bus.

It had become a routine for her to stop at the stove first, starting the coffee for everyone, then having a look around as she was waiting for it to boil. Damiano was slumped over on a couch, his head in his hand and still half asleep. She wondered how little rest he had gotten last night, after meeting him out on the balcony at 2 am.

Had he stayed awake for hours, like she had? Had he been thinking about her, the way she had been thinking about him? He had flirted quite heavily last night and she wasn’t sure whether to attribute it to his sleepiness, or if he had meant it at all. She wasn’t quite sure what she was hoping for either. He was insanely attractive, and the attention he gave her made her heart beat in ways no other man had managed to do before. But this wasn’t the time or situation to turn into a bundle of nerves because of a boy.

Even if her brain had decided to play fantasies of him storming into her hotel room last night. Demanding to kiss her. Holding her face in his hands. Looking at her with those dark, hazel eyes, like she was the only person in the world. Probably smelling of sleep and cigarettes and all that made him inherently Damiano. She knew the smell well, it had been haunting her all throughout this whole fucking tour. But the fantasies kept coming, imagining him in love with her, even if she never truly believed in it. It was a nice idea, nothing more.

The sharp hiss of the coffee pot pulled her out of his thoughts and woke up Damiano from his half-slumber. Tired eyes trying to make out the source of the noise, smiling slightly when realising that caffeine was coming his way. Y/n quickly moved to get his cup ready, preparing it the way she had already learned he preferred. He readily held out his hand for the beverage, fingers briefly touching. She almost dropped it as sparks ran through her. She wasn’t sure if he had felt the same or simply hid it better. But as soon as the cup was safely in his hands, she turned back around. Back to the stove to take a deep breath and continue her morning routine.

I need to get over myself. This is a job. Getting fluttery over your boss is not gonna help get the job done. Ignore him. He didn’t feel anything. You need to work. Not imagine something that is never gonna happen. It's not gonna happen, Y/n.

She made quick work depositing the other mugs to Victoria and Thomas, before finding Ethan in the very back of the bus. Drum sticks in hands and absentmindedly tapping a beat on the table in front of him.

“Coffee?”

“Yeah, thank you,” he answered, absentmindedly. “Hey, Y/n, does this sound good to you?”

Ethan started to play out a beat, effectively ignoring the cup that had been placed on the table, as she sat down beside him to listen.

“I’m no musician, but it certainly sounds good to my ears!”

Ethan gave her a proud smile, putting his drumsticks to the side for a second to take a sip from his drink. Y/n, grabbed them immediately, beating randomly on the table.

“You know what? I may have to take you up on your offer of teaching me to play. Love how you guys always have stuff around, you’re just constantly thinking about music. I wish I knew how to play," she sighed.

“I can show you a bit of drumming right now, if you’d like?” He offered. “Just a bit of a rhythm on the table right here.”

He moved closer to her, taking her hands in his as she kept holding onto the sticks and tried to get her to play a little, easy beat, but the angle was awkward and her wrist was bent too much to properly tap along.

“Okay, this isn’t working,” he laughed. “Would you mind, um, moving between my legs?”

Y/n could feel another blush coming on. It may be just Ethan, but it IS Ethan and Ethan sure is pretty. She studied his face, unassuming, nothing but a welcoming smile. But she felt odd. She had only been working for this band for a few days, yet she’d already grown closer to them than any other client she had worked with before. Normally she’d do her job, get a quick thank you on the way out, and then just retire somewhere. Do uni work, wait for further instructions. This whole thing was new and as much as she was enjoying it, she wasn’t sure if she was crossing lines she shouldn’t as a personal assistant. Then again, what was the harm in a little lesson? It wasn’t like there was anything else to it. This wasn’t him trying to flirt with her, this was him trying to be a friend. She could do with a friend.

With a quick nod, she moved and sat down on the floor in front of Ethan. Nestling between his legs as he held her hand. Helping her get into position before backing up a little to give her more space. Grabbing her hands again with the sticks to demonstrate how she was supposed to hold and then hit the table. He leaned over her to watch what she was doing. She understood quickly, getting the hang of it and before she knew it Ethan had let go of her hands as she was successfully keeping the rhythm going.

“See? Natural talent,” he laughed behind her.

Neither of them had noticed Damiano walk down the corridor towards them until he stopped in the doorway.

“Ah, Dami! Look what Ethan taught me!” Y/n starts repeating the little rhythm with the biggest smile on her face, proud of herself and what she’d learned in such a short time. Ethan leant back, watching her with a smile.

“Good job, Y/n. Keep going and you might replace Edgar soon,” Damiano said, ducking into the bathroom with a laugh.

Y/n watched him disappear. Her heart fluttered as he left her sight. If he could just not be my boss, that’d be fucking great…

She stood back up to sit next to Ethan on the couch, shaking the thought off. “I see why you like drumming, it’s fun.”

“Thank you, I think so too. You enjoy being our assistant, by the way?” Ethan asked, looking at her inquisitively while finally continuing to drink his coffee.

“Actually, yes. Best job I have ever taken. I know your manager is an absolutely wonderful woman. Didn’t know she planned this position for me originally though, kinda scared me to be honest.”

“Are we scary?”

“No, no. You’re all lovely. You are the biggest group I’ve worked for so far, so there’s that. But…” Y/n moved to sit on her leg now, leaning closer to Ethan, starting to feel more comfortable around him. “You four are indescribably amazing people. My mum would probably call you ‘people after God’s heart’,” she imitated her mother’s Northern accent, making Ethan laugh.

“Shocking, I know, that we’re normal!”

Y/n smacked his chest.

“No! You are far better than anyone- no one on this bus is ‘normal’.”

“Even the driver?”

“Especially the driver.”

***

Damiano hadn’t meant to listen in, but standing behind the slightly closed door of the restroom, he couldn’t help himself, even if it was killing him. Ethan and Y/n would probably be really good for each other… The thought flashed through him. No. It wouldn’t happen. Not under his watch.

Last night had been a blessing and a curse. After finishing his smoke, he had stood out on the balcony for a little longer, imagining the conversations they would have been having if she had stayed out with him. Under the moonlight. Måneskin. Her hair down, she would probably go get another glass of wine. Coming back out to see him.

“What about you, amore mio? Working on more Shakespeare?”

“Yes. Always. I work hard for things I want, you know me. All work no play makes Y/n a happy girl,” she would snicker into her wine glass.

“What if I wanted you. What would I have to do? Never been shy about ... hard… work, either…”

“Why don’t you come and find out, the door is unlocked…”

With a heavy sigh, he moved to the sink to splash some water on his face, raking it through his hair. It was only early in the morning, he didn’t need to unscrew his head just yet. She was just a girl. Just some girl that worked for them. There were so many people on the team, she was simply one of them. But she was also a woman, with wants and needs and desires, and oh, how he would love to attend to every single one of them… Maybe I could be a need for her, for the beautiful woman just one room over. He screamed internally. He was done for.

***

By the time Y/n left Ethan to his coffee, Damiano was back on the couch with a pen and paper, gears visibly turning in his head. He didn’t even look up when she entered. See, just a guy, Y/n thought. Victoria was busy bickering with the driver about wanting to stop at a service station within the next hour. Thomas was scrolling through his phone absent-mindedly.

As soon as Vic had finished her conversation, she walked over to where Y/n was sitting, letting herself drop onto the seat next to her heavily, laying her head on her shoulder. “Y/n I want snacks.”

“I bought snacks, they’re in the cupboard.”

“But, fun snacks! Like you,” the bassist winked.

“As much as I love the compliment, Victoria, I am sure the driver will take us to the next petrol station after hearing your plea.” She kissed the top of the blonde’s head. “You can survive a little longer without sugary snacks.”

Victoria looked up at her with big blue eyes, wrapping her arms around the assistant. “But what if I can’t, Y/n,” she whined, pulling a dramatic pose. “What if I waste away without fun snacks.”

“Vic, love, nothing here will make you die because you haven’t had food. I provided all of you with breakfast - it was your decision to let Thomas eat yours.”

“And I don’t regret a thing!” Thomas shouted from his seat, all three of them breaking out into laughter. Y/n grinned, eyes falling back onto some of the papers in front of her, ready to get back into work. Victoria’s arm looped around Y/n’s as she snuggled into her shoulder with a pitiful sigh.

***

Goddamnit, not her, too.

Damiano had meant to start writing some more, lyrics and words and images flowing through his head in a chaos that needed to be tamed by pen and paper. But as soon as he had sat down Victoria had started moaning about snacks and her little interaction with Y/n had taken up all of the brain space the lyrics should have. His eyes kept focusing on the closeness between the two of them. The way Vic leant her head on Y/n’s shoulder, the way she in turn kissed the bassist’s head. So far he had only considered Ethan to be a concern. But now the thought of Victoria herself meddling was increasingly growing. So she might have had a boyfriend but that had been, what? Years ago? She had said? And the guy had been a dick. What if she’d just given up on men completely, deciding to exclusively date girls from now on? Fuck.

Staring at the way Victoria was now cuddling her, his thoughts ran wild. Was this still friendly? Was the smile she was giving Vic flirty? Maybe she hadn’t been returning his flirtations the way he’d been hoping because it was Vic she was interested in, not him?

Dwelling on these thoughts wasn’t going to help. Jealousy, envy, insecurity… as interesting as they would be as drag names, they weren’t going to solve the issue. Damiano felt stuck. Making heart eyes at a girl who was three feet away while she was none the wiser. Yet it was Victoria latching onto her arm. He wasn��t surprised. She was gorgeous, and funny, and cared about people. And Vic had a lot of good qualities he himself didn’t possess. Maybe it’s the boobs? His brain mused, but he shook it off. That wasn’t it, he was sure of it.

***

Victoria studies Damiano. His face would have been unreadable to anyone else, obviously lost in his thought. But she knew him well enough to understand that the look on his face was one of insecurity and upset. Not necessarily at anything in particular, just upset. Her eyes softened. Raising a brow at the singer. He simply shrugged, shaking his head, then taking the notebook he was carrying everywhere. Opening it up, staring at the words written there, but not adding anything. Yet his eyes never stopped flicking away to everyone else around him, obviously restless. What was up with him? If there was one thing Victoria hated it was one of her friends feeling off and her not being able to do anything about it. But she knew Damiano, and she knew it could be hard to get him to budge if he didn’t want to talk.

As their eyes met once more, she took the chance to mouth at him, “You alright?”

His eyes flashed at Y/n for a split second, he probably hadn’t even noticed it himself, before nodding with a tight-lipped smile, then looking back down at his pages. That was when it finally clicked in Victoria’s mind. It was about her. And from the looks he kept secretly giving her, the problem wasn’t dislike.

***

“SNACKS!” Victoria and Thomas all but yelled as the bus pulled into the parking lot of a little petrol station. The band ran out of the bus, stumbling over each other like a hoard of kindergartners, and Y/n couldn’t help but smirk at their behaviour. Following them in a much more composed manner.

By the time she entered the shop, all four members of the band had dispersed into different corners. Trying to figure out what to buy. Damiano was holding up two chocolate bars, obviously trying to decipher what the difference was with no knowledge of Swedish whatsoever, before shrugging his shoulders and taking both.

Y/n was still in the doorway, grabbing a basket and consulting a little list on her phone. As much as she loved to let them run wild, she would not completely have them overdose on sugar. No matter how much they wanted to. She still felt responsible for their wellbeing, even on their days off. Juice felt like a sensible choice.

Suddenly, she saw a hand appear from behind her, casually taking out some orange juice from her basket. She turned around in surprise, only to be faced with Thomas looking at her with wide eyes, obviously feeling caught.

“No healthy stuff from the petrol station!” He suddenly shouted, grabbing her whole basket now and running away with it.

“Thomas!” She flew after him before she knew what she was doing, almost running over Ethan as she chased the guitarist through the little store. With not much space available, they ended up going round and round one of the shelves, until Thomas unceremoniously crashed into a cooler when he didn’t manage to take a turn in time. Trying to bite back a smile, Y/n walked over, breathlessly asking him if he was alright, as laughter still bubbled out of her. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Victoria, giggling away, phone pointed towards them.

“Oh no, you’re not putting that on the internet!” Y/n pointed a finger at her in what she hoped was an authoritative gesture, but Victoria wasn’t impressed.

“Too late!” She squealed as she skipped away, out of reach, to pay for whatever she had picked out.

Thomas had gotten back up on his feet in the meantime, contents of the basket still spilled all around him, sporting a pout.

“Stop it with that face,” Y/n scolded, but she couldn’t keep the smile at bay. “Go pick out your favourite snack, you can add it to my basket.”

Thomas happily skipped away as Y/n quickly picked up the mess, then moved to another aisle finding Damiano there. He seemed to be debating over the crisps now, having moved on from the chocolate bars.

She stood to the side, her eyes flashing over him a couple more times than necessary. He was just too pretty. It was simply impossible to look away. Even now, no fancy clothes, no stage makeup, no grand performance, he was mesmerising.

Her brain couldn’t help itself, images and ideas flashing in front of her eyes. Going to a petrol station on road trips with their future kids. Them bouncing around, chasing each other over a candy bar. Her and Damiano trying to get them not to cause a mess, slightly annoyed, but always laughing along with them.

She looked at him again. In a blink, the daydream changed.

It’s past midnight. He’s in the same sweatshirt he’s wearing right now. Her arms wrapped around his torso. Looking up at that beautiful face of his. Him picking up condoms from the health section. Winking at her with that certain glint in his eyes. Smacking her arse on the way to the cashier. Filled with giggles and flirtatious glances and knowing what the night ahead would entail. The anticipation crackling around them.

Oh, to be that girl. The girl he looks at with lustful eyes. The one he wasn't to make a baby with. Not the one to be ashamed of.

***

Damiano had chosen what kind of crisps to buy long ago. He simply was too busy staring back at Y/n, who seemed to be lost in thought. Eyes focused on him, yet apparently not noticing him looking back. He could basically see the gears in her head turning, mouth slightly open, far away in her mind.

Whatever enraptured that beautiful mind of hers… He wanted to know - could he be that very thing someday? Be so involved in her thoughts that it caused her to finally slow down? Get her to relax. He kept daydreaming about the massage he had given her the other day. How she had melted into his touch. He wanted that again. But more. He wanted her sighs and her moans as he worked her body in any way she would let him. Hell, he’d be her personal roadie if she wanted.

Fuck, he was smitten. She was always so strong-willed, so passionate. That night on the balcony had done nothing to help his fantasies. Her teaching him how to dance? Bodies close to each other, breathing the same air… Whatever perfume she used, he wanted to drown in it.

***

Victoria had been on the way back out, snacks acquired, Instagram story uploaded, and ready to head back to the bus for the last two hours of the ride. However, she stopped dead in her tracks when Y/n and Damiano caught her eye. Both of them were staring at the other, yet neither seemed to realise it. Just lost in their own worlds. Vic frowned, not oblivious to the dreamy look on Y/n’s face or the way Damiano’s eyes kept flicking up and down their assistant’s body. Something was definitely going on here and she was determined to find out what exactly it was.

After Y/n had finally moved again, paying for the snacks, Victoria caught up with her outside the shop. Their driver was having a smoke, surely had more than enough time left for a little talk.

“Y/n, wait up,” Vic quickly jogged up to her, taking the shopping bag out of her hand and carrying it into the bus ahead of her.. “Let me help you.”

She was counting on the guys to be staying outside for a little longer, probably lighting up a cigarette each as soon as they were done snack-shopping.

“So…” She started, putting away the snacks alongside Y/n. “Saw you staring at Damiano in there.”

Great, this wasn’t subtle at all, she scowled at herself. Tact had never been her strong suit in these situations. She was far more likely to rush into a conversation, head first, too open, too honest, too soon.

“I- uh- I don’t know what you mean. I was probably just staring off into space.”

Okay, she was getting flustered. Victoria knew she was onto something here, but it wouldn’t be easy to get anything out of Y/n. She was way too professional and… uptight for that. And they didn’t exactly have any red wine on tap to get her to open up.

“You know, there’s no harm in it. He’s a very attractive man,” she said, playfully nudging Y/n’s side. “Pretty sure everyone’s had the hots for him at some point.”

“Well I haven’t, it's very unprofessional.” Y/n stubbornly replied and Victoria almost laughed out loud.

Sure, she hadn’t. That’s why she was staring at him like he was a drink of water in the middle of a desert. Or why she was getting all flustered every time he touched her. Or why she always seemed to gravitate towards him, whatever she was doing. But that wasn’t what Vic was going to say. It wouldn’t get them anywhere. She had learned that much about Y/n.

“All my friends used to have a crush on him in school,” Vic laughed, remembering their beginnings. “They’d just hang out whenever we were rehearsing, making heart eyes at him and complimenting his every move, but he never cared. He never even looked at them, just giving them a polite hello. Never paid them any attention because he was way too focused on the music we were making. He’s always been like that. Music has always come first. It’s why I think it’s so peculiar how interested he is in you.”

If Y/n had been flustered before, she was full-on blushing now, rapidly opening a random cabinet to hide her face, but Victoria had seen. Her eyes got wide, as if she had been struck by lightning.

“He’s not interested in me, don’t be silly. I work for him just as I work for you and we all get along. Nothing is going to happen if that is what you are worried about. I would never jeopardize the tour or our friendship. He doesn’t even see me like that, anyway, so it’s fine. It’s not like I’m his type, and like, I mean-”

“Hey,” Victoria turned more serious now. As much as she enjoyed teasing her new friend, she felt like she needed to let her know that she wasn’t kidding in this case. She put a tentative hand on her shoulder. Having the other turn around to have Y/n face her. “I’m serious though. I know it’s early days, but if you feel something for him? I’m not going to stop you. Neither is anyone else on this tour. He’s a great guy. And I’ll personally punch him if he isn’t. And I think you’re great Y/n. You deserve good things.”

For a second, Victoria could see a flicker of Y/n’s softer side, of her vulnerability. She felt compelled to pull her into a hug, but she feared making her uncomfortable, so instead, she simply pretended she hadn’t seen. Just like she pretended not to hear Y/n’s voice breaking just the tiniest bit when she said, “Thank you.”

***

The old town of Malmö was full of cobblestone, canals, and adorable old houses. When Y/n led them into the restaurant she had reserved for the evening, Damiano made sure to ask for a table by the window, enamoured by what looked to be the main square of the town and the people hurrying along. As he turned back towards the table, he noticed Y/n with a similar look on her face. Chin held up by her hand as she leaned on the table, watching the world pass by outside. A serene smile played on her face and he feared he was mirroring her expression when Victoria kicked his foot from under the table. Giving him a knowing smile and a raised brow. He shook his head, quickly grasping the menu to distract himself.

“Oooh happy hour!” Victoria squealed. “First round of cocktails is on me!”

Damiano almost let out a sigh - knowing fully well that when it came to an evening like this, they would not stop at a round or two. He was to be proven right.

About two hours later, the sun was on the verge of setting. There was a nice buzz going on, dinner eaten, while the drinks kept coming. Thomas was retelling a story Damiano had heard about a hundred times. Excitedly waving his hands around he only just managed to grasp one of the glasses before the guitarist knocked it over. Y/n was listening attentively - the only one out of the bunch to not have heard Thomas’ retelling before. Damiano couldn’t help but notice how her cheeks were slightly flushed, a sure sign that she’d had a drink. He thought she looked adorable. She’d look just as adorable under me. He quickly put the thought away, blaming it on the alcohol he had consumed. Apart from Y/n - who had been responsible enough to switch back and forth between cocktails and water - they were all on the edge of being drunk, laughing too loudly, talking too excitedly, being a little too affectionate.

It’s what he blamed his behaviour on, when he found his foot searching for hers under the table. Giving her just the slightest, playful kick to get her attention. She looked at him immediately, raised eyebrows, obviously wondering if he had touched her by mistake. So this time, he fully smirked, holding eye contact, as he nudged her again. A timid smile appeared on her face and he was convinced that she would be awkward. Pulling back, possibly scolding him any other time. But her slightly intoxicated state seemed to leave her more open to his teasing. He barely believed it when she nudged him back. Maybe we’re actually getting somewhere here.

“Um, excuse me?”

The whole table looked up at once at the timid voice. Only to find two young girls awkwardly and uncomfortable standing next to them, faces as red as tomatoes and eyes wide.

“Are you Måneskin?”

“We are, actually!” Victoria beamed, immediately getting up. “Do you guys want some pictures?”

The girls didn’t seem to manage anything but hectic nods, too excited and overwhelmed. Damiano smiled. It didn’t matter how big they were getting - having people coming up to them to ask for photos, so obviously in love with them. Still made his heart beat like crazy. He’d do anything for the fans.

Quickly, getting up from his chair as well, he pulled the other two along with him, taking a few photos with the two, exchanging some words and thanking them for their support. Looking back at Y/n, he noticed she was getting a bit nervous.

“Guys, we should probably move back to the hotel now,” she said and it was only then that he took a look around and saw the amount of people staring. Talking and pointing phones at them. It was obvious none of them were actual fans - just hoping to get a glimpse of something to put on their social media. Damiano nodded, rounding up the rest of his band and leading them out of the restaurant, ready to call for a taxi as Y/n went to settle the tab and then followed them outside mere seconds later.

“Right let’s get you back to the hotel,” Y/n decided as they finally managed to flag down a taxi. “But don’t worry, the night’s not over yet - bring your swimsuits, I’ve got a little surprise for you.”

***

Y/n was perched on a little tiled bench, laptop with work opened at her side. A bluetooth speaker ready nearby. She’d slipped the girl at the reception a little money and a signed picture of the band, which she had gratefully taken, to make sure they’d have the hotel pool to themselves that night. Y/n was aware that the band tended to really enjoy a nice dip in the water and she was determined she’d get them to let loose and relax a bit before more gigs were coming their way.

She didn’t notice that everyone had arrived until a flash of blond ran past her and jumped into a pool with a massive splash. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that Thomas would announce his presence like this. She still flinched for a second. Ethan followed not much later, with Victoria opting for the stairs ‘for hair-related reasons’ and Damiano pushing her in anyways. Following swiftly himself, as she grabbed his hand as she was falling. Y/n shook her head, amused at the four, and turned on some music as she watched them.

She couldn’t help but smile at the way they all acted like little kids on a pool day. But behaviour was one thing - the way they looked was quite another. Water was running down their bodies… okay, one body in particular. She would be lying if she said that Damiano swimming around in nothing but his little shorts wasn’t… well, breathtaking. Tattoos on full display, hair wet, glistening skin. He was smiling, laughing, trying to outswim Thomas. The way his physique moved through the water… He was in formidable shape. What she would give to be manhandled by this man.

Him pinning her to a wall, smirking, looking down at her like he was going to eat her. He rightfully just might. Telling her all the dirty thoughts he had when on stage. Making her look away in a blush, but grabbing her face. Tsk-ing, ‘no, no, no, good girls look at who is speaking to them’.

But no. Work called her name, just loudly enough to pull her out of her fantasy.

***

Opening the laptop, she immediately seemed to get immersed in her work. Damiano watched her with a frown on his face. This was so like her - making sure everyone else got taken care of and was having a good time, only to withdraw and bury her in her work again. He wished she’d take more breaks to just enjoy.

Every now and then she looked away from the screen, watching what everyone else was doing and contently smiling to herself. He couldn’t help imagining her watching over him the same way with their kids. His head was running away with the idea.

Him splashing around with the children. Her watching over them, staying on the sidelines, smiling the way she was now. Making sure everyone was safe and happy. Snacks in hand. Their daughter climbing out of the water, running over to her. The way her eyes would light up, arms open wide, not caring about getting wet as she hugged her. He knew she’d be the most perfect mum, just from looking at her. Nothing had ever been as obvious to him.

A splash of water over his head pulled him out of his thoughts. Apparently, Ethan had caught him staring. He shrugged it off.

“Y/n! Come swim with us!” Victoria called, moving to the edge of the pool. The assistant did nothing but raise a brow at the request, shaking her head.

“You kids go have fun,” she laughed. “I’m fine here, doing a bit of work. Just because you got a day off, doesn’t mean I do too!”

“Ah, you’re no fun, Y/n. One night won’t kill you,” Thomas groaned, diving back under the water.

“Well, I didn’t even bring my swimsuit, so it’s out of the question anyway. Now let me do some work.” She tried to sound strict but the giggle bubbled in her voice anyway, still tiny traces of intoxication in her speech. Damiano grinned at the thought of her still being tipsy, slightly wondering if it’d give him the chance to get her to let her guard down the way she had done the night before.

“Oh, rubbish, you party pooper!” Vic shouted back. “Your underwear will do just fine, it’s not like anyone is here to tell you off.”

Y/n shot a look at Victoria. A blush that definitely wasn’t caused by alcohol crept onto her face.

“I’m alright, you have fun.”

Damiano’s head spun, looking at Y/n sitting on the bench. The sheer idea of her joining them like that? Potentially seeing her undress? He was more than glad the water was hiding the lower half of his body.

“Get over here now or we’re dragging you in!” Thomas threatened, already halfway through heaving himself out of the water.

Oh, no way I’m getting out of the water right now, not like this.

“Oh fine! Fine, fine. If it will make you all stop worrying about me ‘not having fun’,” she laughed.” She rolled her trousers up as she moved to the edge of the pool, kicked off her shoes, and let her legs dangle in the water as she sat down. “Happy?”

“For now,” Vic laughed. “But don’t think you’ll always get out of things this easily!”

“Oh come on guys, leave her be.” Ethan decided to be the voice of reason once again. He swam up to her, hair all piled on top of his head in a bun. “Sorry about them - they don’t know when to quit.”

Y/n giggled at his comment.

“It’s cool, nice seeing everyone have a good time though.” Y/n tilted her head for a moment, looking at Ethan. Slowly she raised a hand to hold his face still, the other hand pulling something out of his hair. “There you go. Can’t have fuzz in those luscious locks of yours!”

A scowl appeared on Damiano’s face. He knew he shouldn’t be feeling like this, but the way she was looking at Ethan right now, that soft touch, made all the fantasies in his head shatter for a moment. Why wasn’t she fixing his hair instead. Fuck, he was being stupid. His attention was drawn away from the pair as a loud squeal escaped Victoria, who was currently being wrestled in the water by Thomas.

“Don’t you dare dunk me!”

Damiano didn’t even have to watch to know what happened next. A second later, a spluttering Vic emerged, a murderous look in her eye as she dunked Thomas in return. Their little fight turned chaotic, ending with the top of her bikini slowly floating away from her.

“Aw Vic, do you always have to be topless?!” Thomas laughed loudly.

“You dick! You untied it!”

Y/n instantly covered her eyes, avoiding Victoria’s half-naked body at all costs, looking down at her lap.

“Um - maybe someone should, uh, give her her top back?” She stammered.

Vic looked at the blushing girl, a smirk growing on her face as she whispered something at Thomas, pointing at Y/n, obviously hatching a plan. She swam up to their friend, gently grabbing her legs under the water.

“You are the only one that seems to mind, amore… Do you not like my tits?” Victoria teased, cocking her head to the side as she tried to catch Y/n’s eyes.

“No! No, I mean- That’s not what I mean. Um… I don’t know - is it just me or is it hot in here?” Y/n was a mess, tripping over her words.

“The only one that’s hot here is you, Y/n,” Thomas grinned, swimming off to retrieve Vic’s top, which he handed to her as he came back. The blonde held it up to her boobs in a fake-clumsy way, big eyes looking up at Y/n.

“Oh, I think I’m going to need your help with this, Y/n. Mind tying me up?”

Y/n looked like she was about to explode, her face once again covered in a deep red. With slightly shaking fingers, she moved forwards as Vic turned her back towards her, fumbling with the strings around her neck and her back to tie them up.

“Thanks, babe, you’re a doll!” Victoria grinned, taking the assistant’s hand and leaving a little kiss on her knuckles. It was the point at which Damiano decided he’d definitely need to protect her from his bandmates. If anything, it was his time to bother Y/n now.

As Damiano swam over, Y/n was still bright red. Her head was still lowered, picking at her nail polish, as she squeaked out a “hi”. You’ve got to put on the charm now, you can do it, he said in his head, hyping himself up as he looked back at her. He didn’t want to bring her into even more of an awkward situation, but his hands were on her legs before he even noticed, slightly stroking along the curve of her calves under the water.

“Don’t mind those fools,” he told her in a voice low enough that they wouldn’t hear. “They’re just trying to rile you up because they like seeing you blush. It is a nice sight, to be fair. Seeing you blush.”

“Well, it’s not like I have control over that. Um. Y-you look cool… I mean - good. You know? … fucking hell.” She buried her face in her hands, stifling a flustered chuckle. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. I apologise, I will just hide now, forever.”

Yet, the smile on her face hadn’t left since Damiano had arrived. She bit her lip nervously, looking at the singer. Staring at him, maybe trying to figure out what his intentions were. He wished he knew. “Your, uh… eyes… they’re pretty.”

“Don’t even think about ever hiding that face from me, yeah?” He pulled her hands back down as she once again attempted to cover herself. He briefly forgot his hands were wet, until she giggled and patted her own dry on her shirt as he let go. “Your eyes are really pretty too, Y/n, so don’t deprive me of them.”

She blinked a couple of times, taken aback by what he had said. “Alright, I can do that.” She barely noticed they were holding hands. Rubbing her thumb over his skin softly, keeping herself grounded in place by the heat his body gave off under the water. “You just gotta step in when they start taking the piss again, yeah?”

He moved in closer now, only letting go of her hands to grasp onto her thighs, trying to keep himself above water. He was desperate to move between her legs, but he wasn’t going to ruin the moment by taking it too far. Not yet. “Of course. But amore mio, what if I wanted to, uh, ‘take the piss’?”

She smirked. “Oh! Then that’s fine.”

Damiano was sure his heart wasn’t even beating anymore, it was fluttering. There was something about her… every time he watched her, talked to her, he felt like he was looking at her for the first time. Finding a new side to her. He wanted more, constantly craving to get closer, and in moments like these. When she let him in just a little bit, made him feel like he was just one small step above the others, he felt like it was all going to be worth it. The slow way he was working himself into her heart.

“Y/N HAS A TATTOO ON HER ANKLE!” Thomas suddenly shouted, popping out of the water and pointing at the assistant. Damiano was pushed out of the way by Victoria, who grabbed Y/n’s leg. Hoisting it up in the air, turning it to show her ankle. A black outlined hand giving the middle finger with long black nails stared back at the band.

“That is really pretty,” Ethan said softly, but Victoria scoffed

“Pretty? It’s fucking cool! See,” she turned back to Y/n, “you are rock ‘n’ roll!”

Damiano stared at the little drawing on her leg, fascinated to have found yet another side to her he hadn’t seen coming. He wondered if she would let him tattoo her one day, letting him grab her leg, smoothing over the skin, putting that kind of trust in him. He was determined to find out, sooner or later.

“I mean... you think you’re the only ones with tattoos?” Y/n smirked, almost in a cocky way. It was a good look on her. “That one hurt like a bitch-”

“That one?” Damiano threw in. “Does that mean there’s more?”

Looking over at him, she simply smiled, shaking her head. “Anyway, it’s late, we should be going to bed soon. I know - I’m not trying to parent you, but somebody’s gotta be responsible here!” She stood up, fixing her trousers, putting her shoes back on, and grabbing towels to pass around. “Come on, out of the pool. Comply and I will get you something special with your coffee tomorrow!”

***

After everyone had retired to their rooms, Victoria decided she needed another talk. Moving along the hotel corridor, she stopped in front of Damiano’s door, softly knocking. He opened hastily, his face dropping ever so slightly as he saw her.

“Not who you were expecting?” She asked with a smirk as she pushed past him into the room. She was glad they’d all gotten their own rooms for the night and didn’t have to share - no need to involve Ethan or Thomas in the little conversation she was aiming to have with Damiano. Victoria dropped down onto the bed, kicking her shoes off and getting comfortable, as the singer followed.

“What can I do for you?” Damiano asked, shutting the door behind her.

“How about explaining why you were all over Y/n in the pool?” A grin spread on her face. She knew she’d have to be much less careful with Damiano than she had been in the conversation with Y/n, but still needed him to know this was good-natured teasing. “Pretty touchy, if you ask me.”

“Well, we were talking. Don’t need to tell you everything I do.” He flopped onto the bed, grabbing a pillow to smother his face into. “Why?”

“Yes you do, I’m one of your best friends!” She didn’t hesitate in grabbing the second pillow to whack him over the head, before putting it back behind herself to lean against. “Just interested to know what you think of her. You know, because I’m your friend and I care. And I’m nosey, so spill.”

He started groaning into the pillow.

“If I told you I think I like her, would you shut up about it?” He turned his head to the side to look at the blonde. “I don’t know, Vic, she walked into our lives and…” His eyes grew distant as he thought about her.

“Wait, you actually like like her? I was thinking you were just attracted, you know the thrill of the chase and all that. Fuck, Damiano!” Her smile came back tenfold. “I love this!”

He shot up from his lying position. “No! No, you don’t love this! I don’t love this! I have no fucking clue what I’m doing! She is so sweet and kind and sensitive and I can’t stop thinking about her, it’s turning me into a brain-dead zombie. I could never actually win her over, I fuck up so much and- … I talk too much don’t I?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so flustered!” Victoria remarked in amazement. “You’re actually, properly, crushing on her! You should tell her.” She almost added if only for my amusement but decided against it. This was obviously tormenting him already, no need for her to rub it in.

“I’m not gonna tell her shit! She’s our assistant, for god’s sake. I already could be in so much trouble if she took something I said wrong. I could fall flat on my face and- … Vic, I know that you care and you want me to be happy. Which I love and appreciate. We are best friends, we really are. I would do the same thing if you had a crush on someone, but I just don’t know what to do,” he moans, falling back onto the bed. “I haven’t been like this since school.”

Victoria patted his head in sympathy as he buried his face back into the pillow. She wasn’t quite sure what to advise him in this situation. Sure, she would love to see her friend happy. And there was definitely something cooking under the surface of Y/n’s feelings. And, honestly, the thought of the two of them together? She was basically swooning at the thought. But she also knew it wasn’t her place to meddle. Right?

“I don’t want to make her uncomfortable. I don’t wanna scare her away.” He looked at Victoria with pleading eyes. “Has she talked to you at all? Have you picked up anything from her? Any hints?”

A sigh escaped her lips, but she knew she couldn’t help but give him at least a little push in what she hoped was the right direction. “Look, Damiano. I’m not gonna pretend like I didn’t notice she fancies you. Honestly, no surprise there. But I think we both know she’s not exactly the type to jump right into bed with someone. So take it slow. Show her you care. Woo her.”

“Woo her?! Like an old Italiano romance? I can do that… I think. Okay, what does she like… Y/n, what does she- She doesn’t really talk about herself that much, does she..” Victoria could see the gears turning in his head. “This was so much easier when I wasn’t invested… Why do I have to be invested, Vic?”

He looked at her with dopey eyes, before jumping up and pacing around the room. “Argh! She is making me go insane! I tried writing lyrics, but nothing is working. I just can’t focus when she’s around. She gets this look, especially when talking about her work and language.. At the pool, did you see how she looked at me?”

“You’ve written lyrics?! Now, you really got it bad, my friend,” Victoria shook her head in amusement. “But yes, I did. I told you, she’s interested. Can’t tell you how deep that runs, I’ve only known her for a few days myself and she is working for us, no way to ignore that. So maybe take a step back until you figure this out?”

“Yeah, you’re right. She works for us. That’s… that’s a giant, neon ‘no’.” He stopped walking, looking out of the window. “I need to cool it, don’t I? We’re on tour. What am I doing! We have fans and people who are looking forward to seeing us. We have gigs to play! Fuck.” He sighed, staring off into the distance. “We should probably sleep. No long drive tomorrow, but lots of interviews, right?”

“Don’t get in over your head about this,” she put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. She hadn’t expected this kind of outburst when she had knocked on his door earlier. “It’s the first week of tour. You got three more of seeing her literally every day. Concentrate on the job, then on her, yeah? Now let’s get some sleep. And I mean it - no pondering and smoking all through the night, you gotta rest!”

“You’re right, I don’t know what I was thinking. Thank you.” He pulled Victoria into a hug. “Thank god you’re here. Wouldn’t know what to do. Goodnight.”

She gave him a little wave as she left his room, only just hearing him mumble, “I have music to perform…”

***

As the night grew to a close, Y/n found herself in her own room, snuggling into a pillow. Glad that the next day would leave less free time. Drive to Copenhagen. Get everyone settled it. Maneuver them from interview to interview, although this time around Victoria would be a great help since she knew Danish. Then off to soundcheck, light dinner, the gig, sleep. No time to get lost in silly daydreams for once.

Yet, as sleep slowly crept up on her, she couldn’t help one last thought entering her mind.

I wonder if he is thinking of me.

#maneskin fiction #damiano david fiction #damiano david imagine #damiano david x you #damiano david x reader #maneskin imagine #maneskin x you #fluff #maneskin x reader #mywriting #bethanysnow #quiet music

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rinarecommends · 4 years ago

Text

Affliction

Here’s my contribution to the Villain AU bnharem collab! You can find the other submissions here!

I hope you enjoy!

Affliction (n): something that causes pain or suffering:

“Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcast rumours of villains running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. Road maintenance endeavour to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before.

Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary.

One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.”

You stared at the TV and continued staring at it, even as the breaking news passed and regular scheduled tv resumed. When did it all go wrong? It seemed like just yesterday, you dreamt of working with heroes, helping to make the world safe, but it had been 2 years since you abandoned those aspirations, for love, or at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

“Dumbass, I’m home.” You heard a familiar voice echo through the apartment, but you didn’t say anything, too lost in your thoughts.

“Y/N? Are you home?” You heard him ask, but your brain couldn’t process the words to reply, to tell him yes, you were home, where he should have been hours ago instead of out destroying the city with the league of villains.

You heard his footsteps getting closer, but the sound of them faded as your thoughts raced to figure out when it all started, when everything went wrong.

You met Katsuki Bakugou during your first year at UA. You were a first year student, but you weren’t in his class, instead you were in the support course. Each kid in first year support was paired up with a first year hero student, to be their support tech throughout the duration of their stay at UA. You were lucky enough to be paired with him. He was everything you thought a hero should be. He was strong, brave, and he had a good heart, even if most people couldn’t see it because of his rough exterior, loud disposition, and ego, but you could, you had always been good at reading people. The first time he actually acknowledged your existence was after the sports festival.

You remember it like it was yesterday. You were in your little corner of the support lab, tinkering with a gadget you had designed for a project that PowerLoader had assigned to you.

You heard the door slide open, roughly, but you didn’t pay it any mind, support kids were sometimes rough, especially if they were deep in thought about a gadget or design they were working on.

“I’m looking for an extra named L/N. Where are they?” You snapped your eyes up at that, met with a sight of wild blonde hair and a lean, muscled physique in a UA uniform. The person closest to the door gaped at him and just pointed in your direction, making him snap his eyes, landing his sight on you. You gave him a short wave, indicating that you were the person that he was looking for, for whatever reason.

“You’re supposed to be my support tech while I’m at UA. I need modifications and shit to make me stronger. I don’t want anymore wins handed to me the way the fucking sports festival was. I’m aiming to be the undeniable number one. If you can’t do that, tell me and I’ll find someone who can, get it?” His voice was sharp with an edge to it, and you realized that this was a pivotal moment, in what would become of whatever relationship you would have with this boy. He was essentially telling you that he was going to be number one, and you had to be number one as well. If you couldn’t, he’d find someone who could. Were you the best? No. Did you want to be the best? Yes. Your answer to him was simple.

You smiled at him and said, “Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.” His answer was a grin that showed his pointy teeth and spread across his face. If only you had known what was coming. “Y/N? Why are you crying?” Katsuki’s voice snapped you out of your memories and suddenly you were aware that he was shaking you. You gasped and snapped your eyes towards his, meeting his ruby red eyes.

“I wasn’t aware that I was crying.” You muttered out, wiping your eyes, finding them wet, indicating that you were actually crying. He looked at you.

“You weren’t aware? Can you at least give me a reason as to why you would be crying?” He sat down beside you, pulling you into his lap. You breathed in his scent, something that used to calm you, but it just made your chest feel heavy, with the strong smell of nitroglycerin from his quirk and the dirt and flecks of blood, that probably wasn’t his, from the destruction that he’d caused somewhere in the city.

“Katsuki.” You said his name. He hummed in acknowledgement, his face had made its way into the crook of your neck, peppering kisses there, showing you affection. “How did we get here?” You voiced the question that had been wracking your brain for so long, something that you asked yourself so many times but never found an answer that you were satisfied with.

He grunted. “What are you talking about babe?”

“How did we go from wanting to save the world, to destroying it? How did we get here?” You asked softly, trying your best not to anger him. His temper was shorter these days, even shorter than back at UA. He’d never laid a hand on you, but you weren’t really sure what he was capable of these days. You weren’t even sure who he was. He looked like your Katsuki, but that was where the similarities to the boy you fell in love with ended, except for the small moments when he made love to you or showed you affection.

“Y/N.” He said in a warning tone. He didn’t like talking about this. He had never given you a straight answer, never gave you a reason. He only asked you to follow him one day, to walk away from Support Course and UA, and you did because you loved him, more than anything. You sighed, not letting it go, even though that’s probably what he thought you were doing, but you wanted to choose your next words, your next step, carefully.

Katsuki Bakugou, you had discovered while working on his equipment, was everything people had said he was, but he was also nothing like they said he was, at the same time. He was loud. He was Vulgar. He had an Ego. He was hot, but he was also kind, in his own way. He was brave. He was determined. He was smart, a genius really. You could tell he was softer than he let on. In the months since he slammed into the Support lab, you had gotten to know him, and he had shown you his kind side, in private, and in public. He had brought out parts of you that you hadn’t known existed. He made you feel things. He made you want to be better so that you could always stay by his side because you knew he was going to do great things. He made your stomach flutter with butterflies. He made your skin burn when he touched you or grazed you. He made your heart race when he came into the room sweaty after a workout with Kirishima. You liked him. You really liked him.

“So. When are you going to let me take you out on a date, or are we just going to keep up with the glances and flirting?” He grunted out while sitting beside you on your workbench, as you were working on modifying his gauntlets. You froze for a second before snapping your eyes to him, dropping whatever was in your hand. You just gave him a look before smiling softly.

“I thought you’d never ask.” you stated, going back to work on the task at hand.

“That doesn’t answer my damn question, dumbass.” He snapped, but all you did was giggle at him, making him snort.

“I’ve wracked my brain the past two years, wondering why we were doing this, why were we leaving everything behind, everything we believed in, to destroy things we were training to protect. I can’t find an answer that satisfies me. I don’t understand what could have made the boy I fell in love with decide that he wanted to destroy hero society instead of be the #1 Hero.” He pushed you off of his lap, landing you on the couch where you were before he pulled you onto his lap. He sighed in frustration pulling at his hair.

“Why does it matter so much? You’re the one who agreed to come with me, you’re the one who followed me because I asked you too. I love you, is that not enough?” He hissed out at you, you flinched because he’d never taken a tone like this with you, but his face softened when he saw you flinch at his voice.

“The league just gave me reasons to destroy hero society as it is and rebuild it, that’s all. The heroes you know, we know, aren’t good people at all. Endeavor abuses his kids and wife, why do you think Todoroki was so emotionally fucking constipated when we were in school with him? Best Jeanist is more worried about appearances as a hero than actual hero work. I could go on, but I just, I just can’t be a hero in the society as it is today, if things were different, then maybe we’d still be at UA, or even graduated, but this is the world we were given, Y/N. This is what’s right. Why can’t you see that?” He had gotten on his knees in front of you, grabbing your hands to hold as he said this. You let his words sink in. He had finally given you an answer, albeit a very vague one, but it was progress, right? Sadly, it wasn’t enough. It didn’t satisfy you to the point where you felt comfortable continuing to build him gadgets to help destroy hero society and the city. It didn’t show you a glimpse, a sliver, of the boy you used to know. All you saw was someone that you loved, without a doubt you loved him, but you didn’t know him at all. Shigaraki and his goons had twisted him somehow.

“I followed you because I love you, but you’re hurting people Katsuki. INNOCENT PEOPLE. The boy I love, the one that was determined to win and be the best hero there is, may have been temperamental, egotistical, but he NEVER hurt innocent people. I can’t continue to make equipment for you that’s going to be used for demolition of the city and innocent people’s suffering. Everytime I look at the news, I see more chaos, more destruction, and my heart hurts a little bit more, and I feel a little more guilty. It’s eating me up inside, that I’ve helped you for the last 2 years, but unlike you, baby, I don’t want to lose who I was completely. I love you, I really do -”

“Are you leaving me?” He breathed out, as if the concept of losing you struck a chord within him, as if it was something he was scared of, but you were scared too. Who were you without Katsuki Bakugou? What position did you play in this world if it wasn’t by his side?

“I -” He cut you off again, not allowing you to answer his previous question.

“Do you remember when I told you I loved you for the first time?” He asked looking at you, deep into your eyes, as if he was looking at your soul. What kind of question was that? Of course you remembered, it was one of the greatest days of your life, one of the best feelings in the world was knowing you were loved by Katsuki Bakugou.

You nodded.

You looked up at the sky, watching the fireworks glitter in the sky. The hues of colors make your heart soar. You felt Katsuki grab your hand and squeeze, making you turn away from the show to him.

“I have something I want to tell you.” He muttered, just loud enough for you to hear him. You smiled at him and nodded indicating you were listening, but he didn’t say anything else. You quirked your brow up at him, but he wouldn’t meet your gaze, so you turned back towards the show in the sky.

“I love you.” You heard him say making your heart stop, snapping your eyes back to him, away from the show once again. You opened and closed your mouth, repeatedly, not expecting that he’d be the first to say it. You loved him, more than anything, but you had been scared to tell him because you didn’t want to ruin the relationship since it had only been 5 months of dating. You knew Katsuki was slower on the uptake with feelings, especially his own, so you kept quiet for the time being, loving him in silence, but here he was confessing his love to you.

“I know I’m not the best at this relationship thing, but you’re the only person that’s ever made me feel something besides anger. You don’t look down on me because of my attitude, and you don’t put me on a pedestal because of my quirk. You just let me be myself- “ you go to say something, but he holds his hand up, indicating for you to be quiet.

“When you smile at me, you make my heart stop. Your laugh makes me get those cringy bullshit butterflies in my stomach, and you’re so smart, possibly the smartest person I know. It’s like you complete me, make me want to do better, to be better, as if I wasn’t already aiming to be the best. All of these things and so many more make me love you. I love you, Y/N.” He took in a breath as he finished his monologue, but you didn’t let him get a good enough breath before your lips were moving against his in a slow, passionate kiss, showing him that you loved him too, before you told him. He grabbed you by your hips, pulling you closer to him, deepening the kiss, making your toes curl. They say when you kiss someone, you feel sparks if it’s a right fit, but with Katsuki you feel like a live wire, full of energy and alive. You felt tingles down your back. His kiss was like another form of breathing, you don’t know if you’d ever be able to survive without it again.

“I love you too, so much.” You breathed to him as you pulled away. He smiled softly, an expression that he reserved solely for you and kissed you again. A simple peck

“Yeah?” He said, lips grazing yours, in an almost kiss. You beamed and nodded, bringing him into another slow, passionate kiss.

“How could I ever forget that?” You muttered to him.

“I still feel the same. I still love you. You’re still the only one who makes me feel alive, still the only person that’s ever given me shitty butterflies. You;re the only light I have left in my life, Y/N. If you leave me, what’s the point in trying to make the world better? I don’t give a fuck about anyone else in this city, besides you. I’d burn the city to the ground if someone told me that was the only way to make sure you were safe. I’d kill, steal, and destroy for you, nobody else, just you. Fuck Shigaraki. Fuck Dabi. Fuck Twice. Fuck all of them. I didn’t join the league because of them, I did it because I want the world to be a better place for you, a place worthy of your existence.” He was on his feet again, pacing, pulling at his hair. It was if he was in a frenzy of, dare you say it, psychotic rambling. Words about how much he loved you and what he would do for you kept pouring out, but they didn’t do anything but make you sadder, hurt you more.

“Stop.” You whispered, but he obviously didn’t hear you because he kept going on and on.

“Stop.” You said a little louder, still not getting a response from him.

“Fucking STOP KATSUKI.” You yelled, your emotions finally getting to you. Tears poured down your face like streams of water. He stopped, turning to you instantly at your yell.

“Just stop.” You said, “I don’t know what has made you think that this world is not worthy of my existence, but you’re wrong. I am fine with this world the way that it is. It has its flaws, but every society does, nothing is perfect, no one is perfect. I don’t want you to do anything for me, not kill people, not burn a city down, none of this should be done for my sake, don’t blame these actions on me. I can’t watch you do this anymore. I love you more than anything, and it used to be my favorite thing to do, love you, but it just brings me sadness and pain now. It hurts to love you, for who you are now, because this isn’t you, this can’t be you, can’t be MY Katsuki. My Katsuki was a hero, is a hero. He wants to win, wants to be the best. I tried to accept you being a villain, because not all villains are bad people, just in bad circumstances, but this is too much, you are too much, loving you is too much. It’s like an affliction in my heart, and I just can’t do it anymore.

Tears were running down his face and he fell to his knees.

“If I don’t have you, what do I have? Please…. Don’t leave me baby. We can figure this out. I can stop. We can be heroes if that’s what you want. Just don’t go. Stay. With me.” He breathed out, voice barely audible, only loud enough for you, and you alone, to hear. You thought about it. You didn’t want to leave him, that was the last thing you wanted, but after seeing what you have seen, could you stay?

You stood in the middle of the crowd, watching All Might’s last fight as the #1 hero, except you wouldn’t know it was his last until he uttered the words “now, it’s your turn.”

“You shouldn’t be here.” You heard the gruffness of his voice before you saw him, spinning around to see him beat up, bruised, but alive, he was alive, that’s all that mattered to you in that moment. You had told yourself that you weren’t going to cry. Katsuki didn’t like it when you cried, but the sobs took over as soon as you got a good look at him. He grabbed you and pulled you into his chest, consoling you, reassuring you that everything was okay, that he was okay, that you were back together with each other again and you’d never have to be without him again.

“I thought you were going to die, I thought I was going to lose you, Suki. I can’t lose you… I just can’t.” You said wiping your tears furiously, trying to get yourself together for him. He grabbed your hands from wiping your face and pulled you towards him again, this time you felt a soft peck on your forehead.

“I’m here.” He said to you. You nodded at him, looking up into his eyes, pools of ruby that you loved so much, that you didn’t think you could live without. Maybe if you had looked closer, you would have noticed the dullness that had started to take over the sparkle, maybe you could have changed the course of what was to come.

It happened three days later. You were decorating the dorm that you had to move into with the rest of the support course, following Katsuki’s abduction. You turned your head when someone knocked on the wall beside your door, since your door was open as you were decorating. You were surprised to see Katsuki standing there, in civilian clothes.

“Hey babe. What’s up? Need some repairs already?” You teased him, but he didn’t smile, didn’t snort, didn’t make a comment about how he only needed so many repairs because he was the best.

He walked into your room and shut the door.

“I’m leaving UA.” He muttered, just loud enough for you to hear, as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear what he said.

“What are you talking about?” You said, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Why would he leave his dream school? Did he want to go to another Hero School? Did he not feel safe at UA anymore?

“The league made me an offer. I’ve decided that I’m going to take it.” Your world halted at those words. What kind of offer could the league have made to make him quit his dreams of being the #1 hero? What could they have said to make him join their cause?

“The league… made you an offer?” you replied to him slowly, hoping that this was a weird daydream, a walking nightmare. He just nodded.

“What kind of offer?” You asked him. The only answer he gave you was a shake of his head, a muttered “it’s not important.” It was important though. What did this mean for his dreams? What did this mean for your dreams that involved him? What did this mean for the two of you as a whole?

“I want you to come with me. I don’t want to be without you, and I’ll need repairs for the things I’m going to do.” He said after a pause in the conversation. You looked at him. What could you say? You had always wanted to build support items. You wanted to make tools to better the world, until you met him. He became your dreams, your aspirations. You wanted to make things for Katsuki, for him only. You wanted to propel his dreams of being the best, to make them a reality. If this was what he wanted to do, if this was what he had chosen, there had to be a reason, a good reason. You trusted him. You loved him.

You nodded.

“When do we leave?”

“I can’t stay, Katsuki.” You said, tears rolling down your face, continuously, no matter how much you tried to make them stop.

You headed towards the room that you two shared in the rundown one-room apartment that he paid for, somehow. You grabbed your bag and packed the few things that you had accumulated in the two years that you guys had been hiding out from everyone. You had somehow never been found, even though you and him were declared missing, even though you were in plain sight. Katsuki had dyed his hair black, gotten some tattoos, some piercings, so that nobody would recognize him. You had dyed your hair as well. You wanted tattoos, but you were too afraid of the pain.

“How can I fix this?” He asked, watching you pack, taking things out of your bag as you put them in. You sighed and stopped to look at him.

“I don’t know if you can fix this, Katsuki. This is never what I pictured our life together would be like. This isn’t what I wanted. It’s not what I thought you wanted, and I just… can’t do it anymore. I’m tired of hiding, tired of chaos and destruction. Hero society may have some corrupt heroes, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t good heroes, worthy heroes. It doesn’t mean you couldn’t have been different, changed it by being the change.”

A tear slipped down his cheek. His eyes pleading with you, almost making you want to stop packing, to stay, to just keep helping him because you love him, but you knew, deep down, that you couldn’t. This was the right thing to do. You were being a hero, in your own way.

You zipped up your bag, fully packed with all of your stuff. You looked at him, taking him in. This was the love of your life. You’d never love someone else the way that you loved Katsuki Bakugou. You loved him fully, wholly, deeply, intensely. It was an all consuming love. The kind of love that some people never got to experience in their life, and you were walking away. You had to walk away.

“I love you, Katsuki Bakugou.” You said as you turned around and walked out of the apartment, out of his sight, out of his life.

*2 Months Later*

It had taken 2 weeks for Katsuki to stop calling you multiple times a day. 3 weeks for him to stop calling you every day. One month to stop calling you every other day. A month and a half to stop calling at all. Your phone hadn’t had his name across your screen in 2 weeks. You wondered if he was okay. Had he been eating? Sleeping? Had he been hurt? If so, was it because you weren’t there to make repairs for him?

You had returned home, to your parents. They had stared at you when you showed up on their doorstep, as if they didn’t believe that it was really you, after 2 long years. They had hugged you for what felt like an hour as they pulled you into the house you had grown up in. They hadn’t asked you any questions, maybe they didn’t want to know. The police had come around a couple days after your return, asking questions, but you didn’t give them anything. You wouldn’t tell them that the villain who’d been causing mayhem was Katsuki. You wouldn’t rat him out, you couldn’t. You left him, but you didn’t want to see him in jail, you still had hope that there was something in there, something that still knew the values of heroism, that wanted to be the best. You had told them that you and Katsuki had broken up, but you wouldn’t tell them where you had been, what you had been doing. You just wanted it to be over, to try and make up for the wrong you had done, to repent for your actions.

That’s how you found yourself sitting on your parents’ couch in the living room, sifting through papers to get certified to work in the support field, thankfully there was a certification program that was similar to having graduated from a support course in a hero school. It wasn’t UA, but it was something. Your parents weren’t home, so you were left to your own devices. You had the TV on for background noise, you weren’t even sure what channel was on, focusing on what you needed to complete to get into the certification program.

“Breaking News: The League of Villains has been taken down. A raid on their current hideout occurred this morning, with heroes apprehending all members, including Tomura Shigaraki. The raid was able to occur because of inside information given to the police.

Two years ago, Katsuki Bakugou, then a student of UA went missing along with his girlfriend and support course student, Y/N L/N. It turns out that he left UA, taking Y/N with him for support, and joined the league, having been convinced what they were doing was right, but 2 weeks ago, he turned himself in, told the cops everything that he had done, everything that the league had planned. In return for this invaluable information, he got a reduced sentence of 3 months in a correctional facility, followed with Community Service for 8 months. He also will be able to apply for a Hero License in 3 years, if he wants, as long as he has good behavior throughout the 3 years until that point. Concerning Y/N L/N, he hasn’t indicated that she had anything to do with this, and there is no proof that she committed any crimes.

Today was a win for heroes and civilians alike. After the seemingly endlessly high crime rate, society may actually see a drop now that the league has been detained and headed to Tartarus.

Following this raid, there will also be an investigation into hero society, due to information on certain heroes, like Endeavor, that has been revealed. Heroes are not above the law, they are just like everyone else.

More information will be given when there is more to add.”

You stared at the TV, eyes wide. Katsuki… had turned himself in? You looked at the mug shot they showed of him, when he turned himself in. Black Hair. Tattoos. Piercings. Sparkling Ruby Red Eyes, as if a light had been reignited into them. Was this because of you leaving? You were inclined to think so, at least in part, and the thought of Katsuki being in a facility, broke your heart, but it also mended it. At least he wasn’t hurting innocent people anymore. At least he had done what was right, in the end.

You leaned back into the couch, heaving a sigh. You felt as if a weight had been lifted off your chest, leaving him had alleviated it some, but this, this news made you feel like you could breathe again.

Your phone vibrated beside you, you answered it, not looking at the screen, assuming it was your parents or one of the few UA classmates who you had met up with when you returned, surely they had seen the news, some may have even been in the raid.

You put the phone to your ear.

“He -” You started but you were interrupted by an automated voice that began talking.

“This is a collect call from inmate Katsuki Bakugou at Shizuoka Correctional Facility. If you would like to accept the call and charges that apply, please press 1. Fees will accumulate for every minute over 15 that the call lasts. If you want to deny the call, please press 2.”

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pricklynoodle · 3 years ago

Text

real or not real

Itadori Yuji/Fushiguro Megumi pairing | Squid Game AU | Rated T | warning: implied character death | ANGST

( yes, writing instead of doing school lol, squid game ruined me so if you want to read this then be warned of SQUID GAME SPOILERS. There's no graphic death, but its sad as hell either way TT)

---

“The player who takes all ten marbles from your partner wins.”

Megumi had always kept to himself, never saying anything unless spoken to, never stuck to groups, and never took the choice to attach himself to something. Everything had an expiration date. Unnecessary things like friendships had never appealed to him. He only needed his sister, and it wasn’t like she had the choice to have him as her brother. But the fact that she still stuck around caring for him until she worked herself to a coma.

So honestly, it’s a surprise why he feels his heart drop when the announcement tells him he has to go against … whatever 310 is to him.

He hardly knows 310, and doesn't know anything about his life actually. Other than that he’s crazy strong, has an impressive pain tolerance, but also the loudest kid he’s ever met. He's always around him, sticking to Megumi like a persistent piece of gum stuck to his shoe. But he doesn't dislike him, but he can't say he's thrilled with him either.

But would Megumi kill him?

Stupid, he tells himself.

“Oh, fuck, I honestly didn’t see that coming,” 310 says with a grimace, looking at Megumi guiltily as if he was the cause of Megumi’s inner turmoil. He sits down on one of the stone benches. The whole setup was supposed to mimic a typical neighborhood, something Megumi wasn’t fortunate enough to grow up in. The bastards even made the effort to add in the sounds of cicadas from the fake trees, as if this was a completely normal summer for a couple of teens.

Megumi doesn’t say anything, he feels dizzy. He drops down to the bench, away from 310 as possible.

“I’ve always wanted to say this,” 310 says as he rests his elbows on his knees, looking at Megumi seriously, “This whole thing reminds me of Hunger Games.”

Megumi looks at him with furrowed brows.

“You know, Jennifer Lawrence?” 310 pushes. Megumi says nothing. “...Tall girl, big ass? The one with the arrows?”

“Can you shut the fuck up,” Megumi deadpans, then he shakes his head. He takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He counts to ten, then glances down at his hand. 10 marbles. “Just tell me how to play this game.”

“I don’t know either,” 310 admits, sounding sheepish. He shrugs carelessly, “This is more of the games my gramps used to play, but he was too busy being sick to teach me though.”

Megumi looks up at 310. He looks tired, but nostalgic. Like he was thinking of a good memory.

310 perks up, grinning at Megumi brightly, “though they said that we can make our own rules. I’ll think of something.”

Megumi nods solemnly. The silence stretches until 310 lets out an ‘aha!’.

“Let’s bet everything and just play one around,” 310 says, even dropping his fist down onto his hand as if it were the best idea ever.

Megumi freezes, staring at 310, was he going to trick him? He doesn’t even know him. They’re not friends. Of course, everything still is a death tournament at the end of the day.

310 seems to pick up Megumi’s reluctance, he jerks his head to the side. He points towards the pair of men competing against each other, looking frantic and panicked.Their faces are sheened with sweat, t-shirts drenched in sweat. It’s… it’s a pathetic sight.

“Fine,” Megumi relents. “What are we playing?”

“Calm down,” 310 chuckles, “are you that excited to kill me?”

Megumi stays quiet.

“We have a lot of time left,” 310 says breezily, pointing towards the timer mounted on the wall. “Let’s do it at the last minute.”

“What do you suggest we do till then?” Megumi asks with a scowl. “Sit nice and pretty, twiddle our thumbs and shove these marbles up our asses?”

“Jesus, man,” 310 laughs, “no just… talk.”

“Talk,” Megumi repeats.

“Talk,” 310 smiles, looking down at his hands. Megumi looks at them too. He remembers the hard calluses on them, when they shook hands. They’re thick and sturdy, and hold a lot of power. He really could have killed Megumi before, just wrap his hands around his neck and it’s all over.

Megumi also shakes away the filthy thoughts of what else those hands could do. Get a grip, Fushiguro.

“Things we couldn’t tell other people,” 310 says, smiling wistfully. “One of us is going to die here anyways.”

Megumi swallows the lump in his throat.

310 smiles wider. He’s always smiling, Megumi notes.

“There’s no reason to feel embarrassed if that’s the case,” 310 tells him, “I promise I won’t laugh when you blush like a tomato.”

“I don’t,” Megumi denies, but he can feel the heat already rising up to his cheeks.

“You do,” 310 says, “but I think it’s cute.”

Cute.

“So, uh, you have someone back home then?” 310 asks.

“Yeah,” Megumi says.

“...like a girlfriend or something?”

“Sister,” Megumi says quickly, “no...never a girlfriend. Impossible for me.”

“Ah, okay,” 310 says, nodding. “Just your sister?”

“I had a dad, but he … never came back.” Megumi confesses, “he was a shitty dad. He was never really home, but he gave us shelter and food. He had a bad temper, but he never hit us. He never liked to be around me especially. I … used to think he hated me.”

“What changed?” 310 asked.

“I… I became him. I understand why he did what he did,” Megumi says, fiddling with the sleeves of his jacket. “Doing dirty jobs, stealing, never at home. Hiding from danger. Hiding us from danger. Protection.”

310 nodded, he slid closer to Megumi. Thighs brushing. Silence continues.

“He came here,” Megumi says, looking up at the ceiling. It’s painted a pink-orange gradient, like a sunset. “I found half of that business card in one of his jackets. The last two digits were cut off. I dialed every possible number until I got here.”

“For what?” 310 asks.

“Find him,” Megumi says, “punch him. I would have killed him, I think, if I found out that he left us to rot. Then steal all his money to pay for my sister’s medical bills.”

“Oh, she’s sick?”

“Coma,” Megumi clarifies. “Some rich bastard from work hit her on her way home. He got off easy because of money.”

“I see,” 310 says, clenching his fists. “That’s terrible.”

“Yeah,” Megumi says gruffly.

“You’re still getting money though,” 310 says. He doesn’t say but you don’t get your dad back. “What would you do with it?”

Megumi doesn’t even hesitate, “pay for my sister’s medical bills. Buy a nice house for us to live in. A car, if I can.”

“If you can?” 310 says, “where would you drive your car?”

“school,” Megumi says simply. “I would use my car to drive to school.”

310 blinks. “You know, you can do much more with that 40 billion. You really don’t want anything else? Don’t have a destination?”

“I’d go to Sendai.”

“Wh—Sendai? I’m from Sendai. Are you kidding me? Are you going to drive there with a shiny new Toyota Yaris?”

Megumi blushes furiously, “enough about me, ugh, it’s your turn anyways.”

310 shakes his head, but he’s giggling like a schoolgirl. “You really have to think bigger. Have you ever been to the beach?”

“No,” Megumi says.

“You should, one that’s got nice soft sand and blue water. With palm trees too. And you should get piña coladas.”

“What?”

“C’mon man, you don’t get to be frugal with 40 billion. I’ll teach you how to splurge once we get out—”

Ah.

“Right,” 310 breathes out, laughing to himself all silly. “Only one of us leaves.”

Megumi grunts.

Silence.

“...Ever seen a dead body?” 310 asks.

“...I’ve been answering all these questions. You haven’t answered at all,” Megumi points out, feeling far too exposed for running his mouth.

“Ah you’re right! Uh, I don’t have anyone.”

“But your grandfather—”

“He’s dead. For a while now. My mom and dad. Also dead. My brother is on the run. He’s, uh, killed a lot of people. He got the death penalty, so yeah, haven’t really seen him around.”

Megumi looks at him.

“I don’t think he counts,” 310 says, scratching his face. Megumi realizes the scars on his face aren’t from the previous games. They looked healed, puckered and faded from time.“He looks a lot like me, though. A lot of people can’t tell us apart. He hated that. He’s only a bit taller than me, and he loves to brag about it. He has a huge ego.”

“I see.”

“Yeah,” 310 says, but he doesn’t look awkward about it. Just mildly inconvenienced. “Oh, have we really been talking for that long?”

Megumi looks at the time. They have less than 2 minutes.

310 stands up, swiping the dirt off his pants. He pats around for his marbles. “Okay, so you see that wall over there?”

Megumi nods mutely. It’s quite far, maybe around 2 meters.

“Okay, we throw one marble, and the one closest to the wall wins, okay?”

“Okay.” Megumi nods, easy enough.

“Okay, you go first.”

Megumi scowls.

“added rule, we do it together,” he says, jaw clenched.

“Eh?” 310 looks at him, confused.

“I’ve been doing things first, so it seems rather fair if we do it at the same time, with our best effort, okay? I have the blue marble, you get the red one.”

“... okay.”

“Don’t give me a weak ass toss, alright, that doesn’t count,” Megumi says gruffly, narrowing his eyes at him. “Do your best.”

310 nods, giving him a thumbs up. “Okay!”

“On three,” Megumi says.

“Okay!”

“Three.”

“Two,” 310 continues, positioning his arm.

“One,” Megumi does the same.

They both throw their marbles. Megumi’s heart leaps out of its chest as he watches his marble in the air.

Clack!

Megumi looks down on the marble that lands right next to his shoe.

It’s red.

“Ahh, shoot, I threw it too hard,” 310 says with a pout.

Megumi sees red.

He shoves 310 against the wall. “Are you fucking with me?”

“Whoa! No, you won f-fair and square, man,” 310 stutters. “I did my best shot, like you said!”

“Any idiot would know that shit would bounce right back if you threw it like that!”

310 laughs, “I must be some one of a kind idiot, then.”

Megumi shoves him further into the wall. “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

“You can’t kill me if I’m gonna be dead anyways.”

“THEN I’LL KILL YOU IF YOU DIE.”

“See, that doesn’t really make sense—”

“Shut the fuck up! Why did you do that?!”

310 slumps against the wall, body lax. Not looking at him.

“Answer me!”

“You… you have a lot more to live for than me,” 310 says quietly. He looks up at Megumi, tears in his eyes, “what kind of asshole would I be to deny you for a life?”

“You have a life!” Megumi snaps.

“I don’t, not anymore,” 310 sobs, a wobbly smile on his face. “Before my grandfather died, he told me that I should help others. That when it was my time to go, I would die surrounded by others and not end up like him.

“I should use my strength to help others, that’s what I’ve been doing here. Out there, no one wants me to help them. No one wants the face of a killer to help them. No one wants me to be around them. I can’t go to places, I’ve… I’ve always hated what Sukuna did to me. Made me carry his sins, his crimes. The way people looked at me as if I was him. I can’t move forward, not like you.

“I… I never went to school either, y’know. Or I never graduated. When Sukuna became a wanted man, I became a target. I stayed in my room. The doors were locked. The curtains were always down. It was like this for years. I received no support. The only way I could get by was doing interviews with journalists, feeding the narrative. Making people hate Sukuna more, making them hate me more. That’s no way to live.”

Megumi felt the back of his eyes burn, his teeth aching from being clenched too tight.

“Even if...I had the money. I can’t erase what my brother did. I can’t erase my existence in the world. I would just keep doing the same thing everyday. I don’t… I don’t want a bigger house, not when it’s just me who lives there.”

“You and I are not so different,” he says, looking up at Megumi.. “I think that’s why… I want you to win. You get to experience all these normal things, and feel… happy. You have a chance.”

Megumi wipes his eyes harshly, “Shit.”

“That’s true.”

“... What’s your name?” Megumi asks.

“Itadori Yuji,” 310—no, Yuji says. “My name is Itadori Yuji.”

Megumi takes a shaky breath, he raises his hand for him. “Fushiguro Megumi.”

Yuji grins, he clasps his hand onto Megumi’s. “That means blessing, right?”

“I don’t fucking know.”

“I’m glad then, Megumi. That I’m friends with you even through this hell. That itself is a blessing in a disguise.”

“Shut up,” Megumi punches his shoulder.

A guard suddenly arrives, carrying a gun in his hand. Waiting.

Yuji looks behind Megumi’s head. “Ah, I wish we had more time.”

Megumi bites his lip. “I wish I’d… met you sooner. I don't know anything about you.”

Yuji jaw drops, “Okay, I’ll … summarize this in ten seconds! I’m twenty-years-old, my favorite color is green, my favorite manga is Bleach, my type is tall people with big butts! Uhh, I really like watching action films—”

“Not … whatever, nevermind,” Megumi says softly as he listens to Yuji ramble on about himself.

Yuji pauses from his ramble looking winded, “uhm, Fushiguro, can I hug you?”

Megumi freezes.

“I just haven’t had a hug in a long time—” Yuji trails off before he gets cut off with Fushiguro hugging him desperately, clinging to him.

“Idiot, idiot, idiot!”

“...Hey, Fushiguro Megumi, live a long life, okay?”

Megumi lets go.

He turns around.

Eyes burning as he stares unblinking down the path. Footsteps. Silence. Breathing. He feels something salty on his lips when he licks them. It's not sweat.

He... he got attached. He stares forward, he doesn't regret it. Not at all. He got to know Yuji Itadori, the real him, and the pain in his heart is the best he can give back. A reminder that he was more than what people saw him. Yuji Itadori didn't deserve what the world gave him, they did not deserve his cries. The fact that... no one would shed a tear for him.

...Ah.

Megumi notices the dark wet spots on the dirt.

“Thanks for playing with me.”

#my writing #itafushi #itadori yūji #fushiguro megumi #fushiita #squid game au #squid game spoilers #angst #fanfiction #im sorry everyone lol #it just broke me #i m gonna go lay down and cry now bye

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sexy-opium-ravioli · 4 years ago

Note

hiya!!! mind writing a fern x gender neutral! reader scenario? maybe the reader is a wizard n they need to get some stuff from a dungeon, so fern comes with n they both have some fun moments together!! maybe its vault of bones styled? thank u!!! [also btw, the anon button is off!!]

Oh my goodness, I am so sorry! Anon feature is now switched on babes, so feel free to send in requests to my decrepit, dank and dusty inbox.

Anyways, here you go!! I hope you enjoy you freakin honey bun.

This work has vulgar language, moderate, nondescript violence and descriptions of menstruation and endometriosis. Dw, reader is still gender neutral.

Note: This and other works (unless directly specified) are to be as inclusive as possible. If there is any sort of undue coding for any race, gender or sexuality that has not been requested, please tell me! :)

Title: Dungeons and Fern

Considering how many things there were in Ooo, one would think that there could be a cure-all potion for cripplingly low self-esteem. Or, at least some sort of medication for said problem.

Alas, Glob was more detail oriented than goal oriented. You could see sentient mountains whining at violence and grow rock-scale skin from drinking gruel, but intrinsic personal problems? Those were still a mystery.

You wish you could give Fern a potion to make him happy. A tincture for all the wounds eyes cannot see. You feel like your boyfriend has done so much for you, and seeing your favorite grass man spiral does a number on your own self-esteem, to be honest.

Anyways, that's codependency for another day. Right now, a dungeon needed exploring.

A cave. A little darkness, and then, light. Being a wizard was handy sometimes. Fire in your palm, you lit the way.

Walls were lined with red words, little orange cones and yellow stripes on the ground that were just at the threshold of ditches with long, metal tubes. You knew what trains were, but the trains down here looked more like metal coffins. They were eerie. So were all the skeletons at your feet.

You looked back at Fern. You smiled, and he blushed. His eyebrows were furrowed.

Ah! A map, how handy. It wasn't too hard to figure out, too!

'You Are Here,' Follow the red dot, and then the blue line, and you could get where you're going. You jumped into the pit, and vanished into the dark tunnels. Fern trailed behind you.

"You're quiet today. Anything wrong?" It was a hushed question you spoke. There was A Vibe in these old tunnels you did not want to mess with too badly. After awhile, you learned to appreciate them, all the colorful graffiti scrawled on them too.

"I'm evil," His words crept to your ears like perfume. It was there, and then gone.

"We've been over this. You're not,"

"There's literally a demon inside of me," A little louder this time. Perfume turned to smoke.

You stopped in your tracks and turned around fast enough to see Fern's pupils still having to adjust to the lighting change. There was a moment of tenseness you both felt, slightly predatory and preylike on both ends.

"That demon does not constitute who your whole self is. A part of you is formed by the new experiences you go through, and some of that in your personality is completely isolated from what you've been born as," Your wizard mind liked to go on tangents and force your mouth to voice them. Sometimes they helped Fern in his journey, and sometimes they did not.

He still looked conflicted, damn.

"I'm evil," Smoke turned into a thick fog.

"Prove it, kill me." A gamble, sure. But you knew your bet had won when Fern's face went from anger to shock.

"I-I'd never!-" His voice got a lot higher when you said quick stuff like that. When you disarmed his defenses in less than a second. To be fair, you do the same thing when roles are reversed.

"Then you aren't evil, dingus. C'mon," You grabbed his hand, interlaced his fingers with yours, and gave him a kiss. You always liked how his grassy lips tickled yours. He's such a sweet man, how you've fallen in love with him. "Let's go explore the rest of this stupid station,"

...

'Oh my GLOB what the FUCK is that-' This is your first thought. There is no time for a second.

The thing, made of shiny steaming hot tar swung at you. You had enough wits to dodge, but you still screamed in terror while doing it.

Fern was immediately at your side. A grass sword, mighty and green as he, grew out of his arm and before one could blink, a chunk of tar monster was separated from the host.

'Tar, tar, dude what spell is even good against tar?' This was the forefront of your thoughts against the backdrop of Fern holding the thing at bay.

"Hey, babe, mind retreating for like three seconds? Gonna teleport this thing to the Fire Kingdom," Such important words spoken in such a casual tone. There was a moment where Fern wondered how much life you had been though to earn such eccentricity in such a stressful situation. He loved you.

When Fern stepped away, you did as you said. The last thing you heard before closing the portal was a fire guard screaming "What the GLOB-"

"...I, I didn't go too far this time, did I?" His voice, back to perfume.

"No! No, not at all!" You gave him a forehead kiss that he would appreciate more than you would ever know.

You both giggled to yourselves before continuing.

...

"Ah! Finally!" The joy in your voice was palpable enough to grab out of the air and eat. Fern turned towards you and-

"...Train tickets?" There was a hint of annoyance in there. You simply knew it.

"Yeah, I know, right?" You chuckled nervously before continuing, "I need it for a potion for Marceline. Endometriosis is really a fucker sometimes and this can help with that,"

You both walked in silence as you felt sunlight on your faces. Smelling fresh air after breathing in so much stale made you feel a special type of joy. "That really wasn't too much for you? I know you need to photosynthesize every once in awhile and I just don't want-" He kissed you. It was your turn for your face to get warm.

This silence was peaceful, as you two walked to your home in the forest. It overlooked grassy plains and was just at the edge of a thick line of trees.

"My love?"

"Yeah?" You adored his nicknames for you.

"What's endometriosis?"

#fern the human x reader #fern #fern the human #gender nuetral reader #blondie's adventure time series #adventure time #fern mertens #fern mertens x reader #fern x reader

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kekoma · 4 years ago

Text

— iwaizumi as your boyfriend.

no thoughts this time. just hajime. hope you enjoy.

ahh the lovely iwaizumi <3 aka iwa-chan~

another top tier boyfriend. can definitely bring him home to your family and they’ll love him automatically.

but before diving into what it’s like dating hajime, let’s warm up a bit and take a look at his crush stage with you.

actually takes him awhile to even realize he likes you more than a friend.

only picked up this feeling when he noticed that he finds himself extremely comfortable around you and that he didn’t like the concept of you dating someone if it wasn’t going to be him.

isn’t quick to act on his emotions though. no no no. matter of fact, no one even knows he has a crush on you (except for oikawa of course.)

hajime doesn’t show any signs of getting nervous when around you, attempting to distance himself from you because of fear he might slip or any of those antics. definitely isn’t the type of guy who spills to everyone that he likes you too. likes to keep to certain things to himself and you’re one of them.

just acts completely normal around you for the most part.

although he does end up studying you more than before and constantly thinking about how you might feel towards him.

but this won’t catch your attention since the subtle change doesn’t catch your attention automatically.

iwa does go out of his way to spend more time with you when he decides that he actually wants to be with you.

“hey y/n, a new cafe opened up a few blocks from school. i was thinking we should go there together for lunch.”

“oh? sure but i thought you had something to do during lunch?”

“i did but i rearranged it for later since i wanted to eat with you today.”

of course he asked oikawa for some type of advice/help when it came to asking you since iwa didn’t want to come off as boring or cheesy when asking you out.

may or may not have wrecked his brains with different ideas about how to go about it which is why he went to his best friend for help.

“i can’t think of proper way to confess to y/n... hey dumbass, if you really liked someone, how would you ask them out?”

“first of all, rude. can’t believe that’s how you treat a good friend like me. anyways it’s simple my dear friend. i would go up to them during lunch, flash a charming smile, and just ask them to be mine. it’s cute, right?”

“... so let me ask you this since you decided to be funny. should i beat your ass now or later?”

“hey! you asked and i gave you an honest answer!”

“ah so now? gotcha shittykawa.”

iwaizumi ends up asking you during one your countless late night runs for snacks.

wasn’t anything super romantic yet it wasn’t completely boring/awkward either.

iwa went for a straight forward approach (not like ushijima straightforward).

basically explained how he’s been feeling towards you lately and that he wants you to be his. of course when you accepted is confession and expressed how you felt the same— hajime couldn’t stop smiling like a fool.

side fact: he thought about going for a somewhat flirty approach at first by saying how cute you looked in his hoodie and if you really liked wearing his clothes then he wouldn’t mind supplying you with more without hounding you to return them after awhile.

however, iwa thought it sounded odd so he ended up confessing to you in a normal manner to avoid any kind of embarrassment.

now we can dig into the main course meal here: what’s its like dating hajime.

three words that come to mind with him... dependable, caring, and attentive.

starting with attentive, he doesn’t miss a beat if something is wrong with you.

due to constantly studying you previously (and still to this day), learning and picking up the habits you have— he’s able to figure out when things aren’t right with you so hiding your feelings isn’t an option for you love.

although if you attempt to hide them then don’t be surprised when he pulls you aside and confronts you about it. of course, it won’t be anything harsh like but more on the “hey you’re acting strange and this isn’t something i’m going to drop.” side of things.

this is when caring comes into play. iwaizumi isn’t the type of boyfriend that’s oblivious towards your emotions/moods nor does he leave you be.

will also add that he has made it known countless times to you that if anything bothers you then he wants to know in hopes that he can solve the issues.

but if you’re someone who isn’t up to talk about the issues just yet then he’ll be understandable— won’t push too far but will give you a prep talk in hopes that can it lighten your mood. which i will label that as dependable playing it’s role.

to add more for dependable, i’ll mention that he’s the type of boyfriend that will wake up in the middle of the night, early in the morning or whatever time if you called him about going through any type of mental issues (having a break down, panic attack, etc.). he’ll rush over the minute he heard your voice and of course he ends up bringing items that could comfort you.

we stan and love that about him.

moving along, i’ve already mentioned that hajime remembers things about you but it’s not just emotional wise. matter of fact he knows what your favorite foods are, drinks, kind of aesthetic/style you go for, places you want to visit, hobbies, and all of the good stuff.

if he were to ever be tested about how good he knows you, mans is getting an 100. can’t convince me otherwise.

the type of boyfriend who’s supportive of everything and anything you do. makes it known that he’s your number one fan and believes in you.

won’t let you overwork yourself. hajime constantly makes sure your health is in good condition, but it you happen to get sick then best believe he’s showing up to your place with medicine and bringing you back to normal.

iwa purposely leaves his hoodies and shirts at your place since he knows you’ll end up wearing them and when you return them, they smell like you. he likes your scent.

he typically likes to gift you things he saw in the stores that reminded him of you as well as giving you flowers. sometimes you have to ask him to relax on the gifts because your room can’t handle it all.

hands down, DEADASS can’t convince me he DOESN’T, is the type of boyfriend who will throw hands at anyone who flirts with you or attempts to touch you.

like he would come back from getting something, visiting you at work or however you want to picture the scenarios and would see some lame guy trying to spit game at you.

the minute he notices him, iwaizumi is coming in to save the day. tries not to take the violence approach at first, but the minute that other dude says something disrespectful then his whole career is over.

hajime beats ass for a living so beating that man up was no problem, but getting him off of the dude is because the only thing on iwa’s mind is murder.

may even stomp his lights out and then go with a smirk.

anywaysss pda? pda.

iwaizumi is surprisingly comfortable but also a tad bit awkward with it. tries to avoid it sometimes because he doesn’t want others to notice just how soft he is with you/be made fun of.

but in public, the most iwa will do is the basic (with your permission of course because this man refuses to do anything if he doesn’t hear that you’re okay with what he does with you). such as holding hands, gives small kisses on your face that isn’t deemed too inappropriate, holding you in his arms/hugging, and all that good cutesy stuff.

two things he likes with you is piggy back rides and when you ruffle his hair.

with piggy back ride, for some reason it makes him feel all warm inside and he does it instantly the minute the words slip from your lips. sometimes he’ll offer one if you don’t ask him first. other times, he’ll offer them to you if he notices you’re too tired or your heels are hurting your feet.

when it comes to ruffling his hair.. he may act like it bothers him to the MAX sometimes but deep down this man loves it. just doesn’t want to admit to it just yet. the feeling of your hands in his hair is like floating on cloud nine for him.

as for private; of course cuddling is on this list. dude loves feeling you close to him and may even fall asleep while cuddling. don’t think positions really matter (unless notices that you’re trying to big spoon him).

definitely more touchy with you, but of course consent is key so he never goes too far with his touches/stops when you ask him to.

going to dates now~

dates with iwa is a mix of sporty and chill. will also add that sometimes it’s random.

like he’ll pick you up from class and suddenly say “let’s go on a date.” while you’re standing there a bit confused.

although if you aren’t someone who’s into sporty type of dates then he’ll always opted for the chill ones which is basically going to the arcades, laser tag, roller skating, paintball centers, go karting and etc.

shows more of his romantic side with the dates and you actually find out how soft he can really be. vv cute.

of course some of the dates won’t only be you two since oikawa tries his best to sneak himself in so he can be the third wheel that takes bomb ass pictures of you and just watch over you two like a parent.

“aren’t you tried of third wheeling oikawa?”

“oh no. never. besides without me, iwa here wouldn’t have any good pictures to post on his instagram... we both know he isn’t good at taking pictures.”

“i-... right right.”

gonna end it here before my brain overheats just a bit, but dating iwaizumi is worth it and each moment with him makings you fall in love with him all over again.

definitely gets the trophy for being the best boyfriend ever and you’re the luckiest person ever to have his heart.

something i forgot to add earlier— his top nicknames for you are; princess, dummy/idiot/stupid, babe/baby, and occasionally he’ll call you his munchkin <3

295 notes · View notes

kjack89 · 3 years ago

Text

An Agreement Between Gentlemen (Chapter 13/14)

When this Author picked up the mantle left behind by the previous Lady Whistledown, it was with the intention of bringing a little levity to the otherwise long and sometimes dull proceedings that encompass the season, and to provide some color commentary that pokes fun at those otherwise generally unwilling to make light of themselves.

To that end, this Author has remarked upon and highlighted the general scandals that accompany this season as every season, the kind that serve to provide some drama to otherwise dull lives, but risk very little in terms of lasting damage.

This Author has never intended for this to cause actual harm, and as such, owes an apology to the Marquess of Enjolras and Mr. Grantaire. This Author does not dabble in morals, or legality; the sole concern of this column has been amusement, and the ruin of two gentlemen otherwise described by most who have met them as good men is something this Author cannot and will not be a part of any longer. While this Author cannot overstate that there was no prior knowledge of the truth behind the Marquess’s marriage, nonetheless the extra attention shone on it by and through this paper has brought harm, and for that, this Author is truly sorry.

While no promises can be made in regards to accidentally reporting similar in the future, this Author will certainly make every attempt to better vet sources before publishing rumor and innuendo. And the promise this Author does make is that the only additional mention of the Marquess of Enjolras or Mr. Grantaire in this paper will be for happy tidings, with best hopes for whatever they may face in the future. LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 6 JUNE 1831

The summons did not arrive with the usual fanfare, so much so that Enjolras almost missed them entirely.

No gilded envelope hand stamped with the King’s own seal, no scarlet-clad guard from the palace delivering it. Just a small, plain parchment envelope instructing Enjolras to attend to His Majesty the King the following day.

In truth, he very nearly almost missed it entirely, since Porter, who normally would have brought him such things, was confined to bed for the immediate future as he recovered – and the surgeon had been quite strict in his instructions. But Grantaire, far less used to having the number of servants Enjolras did, had seen it sitting on the table in the foyer and brought it into the dining room with him when he came in for breakfast.

“This is good news,” he told Grantaire after scanning through the note, though Grantaire didn’t look convinced.

“To be summoned in front of those with the power to strip you of your titles and lands and throw you in the Tower for the rest of your days, unless they decide to chop off your head instead?”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Better a meeting with the King and Queen than the constable,” he pointed out. “Besides, there’s a limit to what they can do, and if they’re intervening now, it will serve to prevent the worst from happening.” He stood to leave the breakfast table before pausing and bending to kiss the top of Grantaire’s head. “In any case, the usual death in this situation would be by hanging, not beheading.”

“Because that’s so comforting a thought,” Grantaire said sourly.

“It should be.”

Grantaire stared at him. “The thought of you being hanged instead of beheaded?”

Enjolras gave him a look. “No, that the King wants to meet with me. I’m not fool enough to think my death by anything other than old age would bring you any comfort.”

Grantaire pretended to consider it. “Going out in a blaze of glory as you attempt to bring the whole damned system to its knees might.”

“Only if you are by my side as proof that I have won you over in the end.”

Grantaire’s expression softened for a moment. “I would die by your side in an instant, but I don’t think that’s proof of anything.” He kissed Enjolras before returning to the subject at hand. “In any case, why should the King wanting to meet with you bring me any comfort whatsoever?”

“Because it means the Crown wants this handled quickly and quietly,” Enjolras said. “Meaning very likely no public trial, and almost certainly no public execution.”

“That would be more comforting without the qualifiers ‘very likely’ and ‘almost certainly’.”

Enjolras sighed. “There is very little in life that is absolutely certain besides death and taxes.”

Grantaire smirked. “And as I have heard you rail about numerous times, the certainty of taxes is not always applied evenly.”

“Do you know, that may be the most romantic thing you have ever said to me,” Enjolras said, grinning at him.

“Oh, hush,” Grantaire said, but he was laughing, and seemed, for the moment at least, to forget his concerns about Enjolras’s impending appointment with the Crown.

They resurfaced in full force the following day as Enjolras adjusted his cravat while waiting for the carriage to pull around. “How do I look?” he asked, and Grantaire cast a baleful eye at him.

“Dressed well enough for a meeting with the King and Queen, and not at all like you’re headed to imprisonment or worse.”

Enjolras managed not to roll his eyes, mostly because he did not think it would help the situation. “Luckily for both us, I highly doubt the latter options will come to pass.”

But Grantaire didn’t smile, just reaching out to take Enjolras’s hand. “Just come back to me,” he whispered.

“I have every intention of doing so,” Enjolras told him, his voice low.

Grantaire sighed. “You know I’m going to be a nervous wreck until you do,” he said. “Just like I am every time you’re in danger, even if normally you’re the idiot who’s put yourself there.”

Enjolras half-smiled. “Arguably I’ve put myself in this danger as well.”

Grantaire gave him a look. “We’ve had this argument before,” he said evenly.

“Yes, and I still refuse to cast any blame on you.”

Grantaire just shook his head. “An argument we’ll have to continue another time, it seems.”

Now Enjolras managed a real smile. “Yes, and all the more reason for me to return. You know I hate to leave a fight unfinished.”

“No, you hate to leave a fight unwon,” Grantaire said pointedly, but for the first time all morning, he looked a little less miserable, and Enjolras took that as a small win in and of itself.

“Are they not one and the same?” he asked innocently, leaning in to kiss Grantaire, who stopped him, his face falling again.

“Enjolras—” he started, and Enjolras frowned.

“What?”

Grantaire searched his expression for a moment before blurting, “I have never once wished you to be less than who you are, and I do not wish it now. The man I love does not back down from a challenge, and his tongue is sharper than any sword.” He paused as if choosing his next words carefully. “But I beg of you, tread lightly. I will not love you less for holding back if it means you survive to fight another day.”

Enjolras did kiss him then, a slow, heated kiss that said hopefully everything he couldn’t bring himself. “I cannot promise my mouth will not get me in trouble. But I do promise I will not deliberately seek it out.” Grantaire made a face and Enjolras gave him a pointed look. “It’s as good a promise as you will get from me.”

“I know.”

“And yet you don’t seem satisfied.”

Grantaire sighed. “I will be satisfied when you are home with me again.”

“And with luck, that will be before you know it,” Enjolras told him bracingly, so convincingly that he almost believed it himself, enough to get him out the door and into the carriage before finally allowing himself to feel the nerves he’d been trying to swallow all morning.

What he had told Grantaire was the truth: this meeting almost certainly meant no real punishment was in store for him.

But he had very little idea of what was in store for him. And that worried him most of all.

----------

Enjolras slowly closed the door behind him, unsurprised when Grantaire immediately appeared from the drawing room, a glass of whiskey in hand, which, judging by the glassiness of his eyes, wasn’t the first he’d had. “Are you ruined?” he asked.

“Define ruined,” Enjolras said, a little grimly.

Grantaire scowled. “Perhaps now is not the time to be glib.”

Enjolras just shook his head as he crossed to him, dropping a kiss on his lips and grabbing the glass of whiskey from his hand, downing it in one gulp. “I wasn’t,” he rasped, handing the glass back to Grantaire and making his way into the drawing room. “The fact is that there is a limit to the punishment I can receive, barring criminal conviction and without an Act of Parliament.” He collapsed onto the couch, reaching up automatically to loosen his cravat. “The Crown has taken what actions it can, which is to say, I am no longer the Viscount of Digne.”

He delivered the words solemnly, but Grantaire just blinked in response. “I did not realize that you were.”

“It is a customary title bestowed upon the current Marquess of Enjolras, with some associated lands,” Enjolras said with a shrug. “Both will be given to more deserving peers, I’m sure.” He hesitated before adding, “Also, none of our issue will be eligible to inherit my title or any lands, save for that which I own outright.”

Grantaire stared blankly at him. “Any of our issue?” he repeated. “As in children?”

Enjolras made a face. “Well, technically my issue. I don’t think the Crown cares so much about yours.” He cleared his throat. “But if I were to remarry and sire children, none of those children would inherit.”

Grantaire raised both eyebrows. “And what are the chances of that?”

“Absolutely none,” Enjolras said, barking a dry laugh. “The King has also told me that my services to his Court will no longer be necessary, meaning my various ceremonial duties will doled out to others and my power at Court, so to speak, is diminished. Beyond that, I retain my title of Marquess and associated lands and riches, which means I will lead a very comfortable life.” He reached out for Grantaire’s hand, lacing their fingers together before raising his hand to his lips to kiss his knuckles. “With you at my side, and without having to hide. So to answer your question, no, I don’t consider that ruin. I consider that a gift.”

Grantaire looked relieved, but he still hesitated. “Even though I will be almost certainly landless and penniless?” he asked, and when Enjolras just frowned at him, he sighed and elaborated, “I doubt highly my father will continue to grant me my allowance and use of the houses when he receives Le Cabuc’s letter.”

Enjolras squeezed his hand. “The Enjolras purse has sustained this family for generations. There’s more than enough left to take care of the man I love.”

Grantaire searched his expression for a moment. “Yet you don’t seem completely satisfied. What else did the King say?”

“Well—”

Before Enjolras could elaborate further, someone cleared her throat from the doorway, and they both turned to look at Enjolras’s mother, who looked unusually somber. “Am I interrupting?”

On instinct alone, Enjolras started to pull his hand away from Grantaire’s, but Grantaire held tight, squaring his shoulders as he met Enjolras’s mother’s expression coolly. “As a matter of fact, you are. Your son and I are having a private conversation.”

He turned back to Enjolras, who tried not to laugh at the look on his mother’s face. But to his surprise, his mother did not immediately snap some dismissive rebuttal, instead inclining her head slightly. “And you have my apologies for intruding, especially at this trying time. But I need to speak to my son, alone, especially in light of his recent visit to the palace.”

Enjolras wasn’t surprised that she had somehow heard about his summons. “Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of me,” Grantaire said firmly. “Your son and I are sharing our lives, and that includes dealing with whatever family affairs you’ve brought with you.” He again turned to look at her. “And need I remind you, your part in our deception has not yet been revealed, but I will be more than happy to tell anyone and everyone who will listen what drove your son to the desperation of a fake marriage in the first place. I doubt highly your friends among the nobility will be impressed by what they learn.”

Enjolras’s mother’s lips pursed, but again, Enjolras was completely thrown by her response. “Thank you,” she said simply, and Grantaire’s cold expression slipped as he glanced over at Enjolras, who just shrugged. “I can see that you are protective of my son, and while I may not appreciate your tone, I do appreciate knowing that my son has found someone who loves him as...vigorously as you clearly do.”

Grantaire’s eyes narrowed, but Enjolras cleared his throat. “It’s fine,” he told Grantaire, squeezing his hand once more. “I trust her enough to have a conversation with her, and I can fight my own battles as needed.”

“Are you certain?” Grantaire asked in an undertone, eyeing Enjolras’s mother warily. “I believe you can fight your own battles, but it’s her I don’t trust…”

Enjolras rolled his eyes affectionately. “I have managed this long,” he assured him.

“Fine.” Grantaire stood, but before leaving, he bent and kissed Enjolras, a long, slow kiss that Enjolras was fairly certain was for his mother’s benefit more than his own.

Not that he minded, since getting to kiss Grantaire and enrage his mother in the same blow was as close to perfection as Enjolras was likely to see in his lifetime.

Then Grantaire straightened again and winked at Enjolras before finally leaving, sidling past his mother with little more than a second glance. For her part, his mother looked mostly impassive at the display she had just witnessed, and she finally fully entered the room, perching imperiously on the armchair. “I suppose it’s too much to hope for tea,” she said with a sniff.

Enjolras barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes again. “You might have heard that my butler was attacked,” he said sourly. “I’m sorry if him being laid up recovering from being shot is inconvenient to you.”

“I did hear about Porter, yes, but that’s not to what I was referring,” she said. “Have the servants started fleeing en masse?”

“None have yet offered their resignations, if that’s what you mean,” Enjolras said.

“Of course it’s what I mean,” she snapped. “This is a tainted household now – I doubt most will want to stay. Especially as they’ve no way to ingratiate themselves with whomever the next Marquess will be.” Her lips pursed again. “Do you even know which distant relative is your heir, now that you will almost certainly never sire children of your own?”

Enjolras shrugged unconcernedly. “A third cousin, isn’t it? Lives somewhere out in the west, if memory serves.”

Her eyebrows knit together. “I’m surprised you know that.”

“You once told me all about him when I threatened to abdicate after Father died,” Enjolras said mildly. “You seemed to think it would convince me to think otherwise.”

“Clearly it did.”

Enjolras laughed dryly. “I hate to tell you, Mother, but that actually played a very small part in my decision.”

She scowled. “Perhaps you should have abdicated back then. It may have made for an easier transition for all involved.”

“Perhaps so,” Enjolras said honestly, as it wasn’t the first time the thought had crossed his mind. “But we are well past that point now.”

“In more ways than one.” She paused, giving him a searching look. “I don’t suppose there’s any point in trying to convince you to reconsider.”

Enjolras shook his head. “None.”

His mother nodded, her expression unreadable. “Then that’s the end of it.”

Enjolras hesitated, before saying, as casually as he could manage, “You seem…decidedly less surprised by this whole situation than I would expect.”

“What precisely is there to be surprised about?” she asked.

There were any number of things that Enjolras had expected her to be either shocked or scandalized by, let alone surprised, but the look on her face stopped him. “You mean…you knew?”

“That you were…otherwise inclined?” she provided delicately. “Of course I knew. A mother always knows.” Her expression twisted. “Though I rather hoped you would grow out of it, or at least do the sensible thing and marry a woman while seeking your amusement elsewhere.”

Enjolras shook his head slowly. “I’m not certain I see that as the sensible thing.”

She considered it for a moment before shrugging. “Perhaps not,” she said. “But more sensible than being stripped of your lands and titles.”

“Not all my lands, or all my titles,” Enjolras told her. “The Viscount of Digne is the only major one.”

She made a face. “No real loss there, the bishop in that area rules it with an iron fist and will probably be glad to see the backside of our family.”

Enjolras trusted her to know more about it than he did or frankly cared to. “And there’s a few minor lands that will be redistributed but for the most part, Grantaire and I have made it out unscathed.”

Again his mother made a face. “I don’t know that I would go that far—”

“I imagine you wouldn’t,” Enjolras muttered.

“—But all things considered, it could have been much worse.”

On that, at least, she was correct. “And I’m certain you’ll be glad to know that your own holdings will not be affected, nor your allowance,” he told her. “And Grantaire is letting you keep the dowry.”

That seemed to surprise her. “That is...generous of him,” she allowed, before frowning at her son. “But you speak as if all you think I care about is money.”

Enjolras just arched an eyebrow. “You have given me little evidence to suggest otherwise.”

“Caring about the well-being of my only son isn’t evidence enough?”

He managed not to roll his eyes, but just barely. “Faux sincerity isn’t your strong suit, Mother,” he informed her. “If you wish to convince me, you’ll have to try a different tack.”

To his surprise, she laughed lightly. “Maybe I will, when all the dust has settled,” she said, standing and brushing invisible dust from her skirt before telling him, “I will be leaving the city for the near future, and possibly even the country for a bit. I need my friends and allies at court to think that I was not party to this.”

“You weren’t,” Enjolras said, his brow furrowed. “And you are certainly at liberty to tell anyone you need to as such.”

“I have, and I will,” she said. “But I will also not outwardly condemn you the way they would wish, and that to some is enough to make them think otherwise.”

For the first time in what Enjolras was certain was his entire life, he was speechless. He had frankly expected her to do exactly that in order to maintain her social standing. “You could,” he blurted, ignoring the raised eyebrow she gave him. “Condemn us, I mean. I would not hold it against you if you did.”

“You and I both know that you absolutely would,” she said dryly. “But more than that, you are my son. For all your faults and all our disagreements, public and otherwise, that has never changed. And it will not change now.”

Enjolras was again taken aback by what she said. “Thank you,” he managed, before adding, a little wryly, “I think.”

A small smile crossed her face. “You’re welcome, I think. And now I should leave you to the start of your new life.”

She turned to head to the door, clearly deeming her role in this complete for the time being, but Enjolras stopped her, his curiosity getting the better of him. “What do you think of Grantaire?” he asked. “Now that you know what he is to me.”

She looked back at him, surprised. “You have never sought my approval before.”

“And I’m not seeking it now,” Enjolras said. “Just curious what you think.”

She nodded slowly. “He is not who I would have chosen for you,” she said after a long moment. “But then again, this life is not what I would have chosen for you.”

It was no more than what Enjolras had expected, but before he could say anything, she continued, “I know what you think of me, that you think me cold, and vain, and cruel. And there is certainly more than a little truth to that.” He looked up at her sharply, surprised by this most of all. “I know I shall always play the role of villain in your story. But despite what you may think, I have only ever wanted you to be happy.” She hesitated. “And it makes me terribly sad to know you have chosen a path where the world very well may never let you be happy.”

Enjolras just shook his head slowly. “The difference between you and I, Mother, is that I have never needed the approval of the world to be happy.” He gave her a sharp smile. “Hang what anyone else thinks. So long as I have Grantaire, we will make our own happiness.”

She returned his smile. “I do not doubt that you will. As I said before, you two make quite the pair, and whatever else you may think, I am glad that you two found each other.”

With that, she left, and Enjolras sat where he was for a long moment, digesting everything that had transpired. This had been a day of surprises, from his meeting with the King and Queen to now his conversation with his mother, and he shook his head slowly before standing to go find Grantaire.

He found him in the library, sitting sideways in an oversized armchair, his legs draped over the arm of the chair as he skimmed through a book with seemingly little interest. He brightened when he saw Enjolras come in, tipping his head up automatically for a kiss. “Is she gone?” he asked as Enjolras settled onto the sofa across from him.

“For now, yes.”

Grantaire’s eyes narrowed. “But not forever?”

Enjolras shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not even this scandal was enough to be rid of her forever. But I am...strangely not as bothered by that thought as I once would have been.”

Grantaire blinked. “Did she hit you on the head while she was in there with you?”

“Something like that, anyway,” Enjolras said with a laugh. “But enough about my mother. Where were we?”

He eyed Grantaire appreciatively, mentally trying to determine the mechanics of what they could do with him in that position, and Grantaire scowled. “Certainly not doing that,” he informed him, sitting upright. “You were finishing telling me about your audience with the King and Queen.”

“Oh. Right.” Enjolras shrugged and looked away. “Well, the Archbishop is apparently pushing for us to be excommunicated.”

Grantaire snorted. “Does that mean I no longer have to go to church?” he asked idly.

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Well, among other things. But there’s an issue.”

“What’s that?”

“We could be imprisoned if we’re excommunicated, for a start.”

Grantaire just arched an eyebrow. “Just as we could be imprisoned for sodomy?”

Enjolras made a face. “The Crown has no intention of pursuing those charges,” he said. “But getting excommunicated could lend credence to future attempts at levying those charges, at likely the least opportune time.”

Grantaire considered it for a moment. “Well. We’ve faced worse prospects.”

Enjolras frowned. “You seem remarkably blasé about the prospect of excommunication, considering how concerned you’ve been about the possibility of imprisonment or worse for the other charges.”

“Mostly because you don’t seem particularly worried about it, and I imagine if this were an actual threat, you’d be somewhat less calm,” Grantaire said evenly. “Besides, I had several glasses of whiskey while you were out so it will take quite a bit for me to get riled at this point.”

“You didn’t seem to have any difficulty getting riled at my mother,” Enjolras pointed out.

Grantaire smiled grimly. “That was a more immediate danger.”

Enjolras shook his head. “Well, you’re not wrong about this not being an actual threat, I suppose. The Monarchy has little desire to create a public spectacle via excommunication and as the Head of the Church, I imagine that’s the end of the matter.”

Grantaire nodded slowly. “Does that mean you’re actually going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Excommunication isn’t enough?” Enjolras asked, mostly rhetorically, and when Grantaire just gave him a look, he sighed. “Fine… I need to get word to Combeferre and Courfeyrac. We have much to discuss ahead of our next meeting.”

“Are you purposefully avoiding the question, or…?”

“I promise I am not,” Enjolras said, his voice low. “But they need to know, because this concerns all of us.” He paused, trying to figure out how to word what he needed to tell both Grantaire and his closest lieutenants. “I was...as surprised as any that the King did not wish to pursue any additional punitive matters. As a whole, the punishment dealt to me is mild, to say the least. And what troubles me is the reason he gave for why.”

Grantaire frowned. “He gave you a reason?”

Enjolras barked a dry, humorless laugh. “Oh, he gave me many. Most were mere platitudes, that out of respect for the service of my father, he would take no additional measures, etcetera, but he also alluded to his hope that our...situation would not inconvenience my political work.” He cleared his throat before adding sardonically, “That he hoped our allies would not abandon us with my public declaration of depravity.”

“And you suspect he actually hopes the opposite,” Grantaire said slowly.

Enjolras nodded. “I’m not going to pretend that my political sympathies are or have ever been well-received at court, and I think most were content to look the other way and pretend that the protests and political actions were the fun side project of an otherwise bored noble. Something I would grow out of in time. But now…”

He trailed off, and Grantaire’s expression turned grim. “Now they might not be so content to look the other way.”

“No,” Enjolras agreed. “And if I or any of our number were to get arrested—”

“Arrested again, you mean,” Grantaire said with the hint of a smile that Enjolras did not return.

“—My position is no longer enough to stave off any significant consequences.”

Grantaire went very still. “Meaning what?”

“Meaning I may not be ruined. We may not be ruined. But Les Amis may be.”

----------

In lieu of coming over to Enjolras’s to discuss the situation, Combeferre suggested via return message that they call a special meeting of Les Amis. “That seems unusual,” Grantaire murmured, his brow furrowed as he read over the brief message. “Why would they not just come here?”

Enjolras shrugged. “Perhaps they don’t want to be seen entering a den of sin,” he said, more blithely than he remotely felt.

“Jest all you wish, but you cannot pretend the thought hasn’t entered your mind,” Grantaire said. “Not that I believe any of our friends will turn on us entirely, but they are all trying to make marriages of their own, and to be tainted by association…”

He trailed off, and Enjolras just shook his head. “That is their prerogative, and I will not hold it against any man to abide by his conscience.”

“Or by the prospect of increasing his purse?” Grantaire asked sourly.

Enjolras shrugged again. “If that is truly their reasoning, I doubt highly we would be associates for much longer in any case.”

Still, it was with an unusual amount of trepidation that they approached the Musain, and Enjolras hesitated before instructing his driver to drop them off at the back of the building by the worker’s entrance. “I do not doubt they would still receive us at the front entrance,” he told Grantaire. “I am, after all, still a marquess and a certain amount of respect must be paid. But I would rather not put them in that position all the same.”

Grantaire managed a wan smile. “You need not explain yourself to me,” he said. “I understand as well as any that the situation is complicated.”

Enjolras glanced at him. “Speaking of,” he said carefully, “have you heard yet from your father?”

“No.” Grantaire’s tone was clipped as he avoided meeting Enjolras’s eyes, looking out the carriage window instead. “I have not heard from him one way or another, so I have no indication if he has yet received Le Cabuc’s letter.”

“Could Le Cabuc have been bluffing?”

Grantaire shrugged. “Anything’s possible, but I doubt it,” he said. “He always did prefer my father to me.” He hesitated before adding, “I thought I might make a preemptive trip back to the house and gather some belongings. Just some personal effects, and things from my mother and sister that I would rather not lose to my father’s whims.”

Enjolras nodded slowly. “That is probably not a terrible idea.” He hesitated before asking, “Do you wish for me to accompany you?”

“I suspect that would cause more problems than it’s worth,” Grantaire said. “If I go by myself, I can hopefully slip in and out mostly unnoticed.”

Enjolras had expected that answer, but he couldn’t pretend that it didn’t sting, just a little. “Of course.”

Something of what he was feeling must’ve shown on his face, but Grantaire’s expression softened as he added, “Which doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t love for you to return with me, or that I won’t miss you dreadfully while I’m gone.”

“But this is the reality of the life we’ve chosen,” Enjolras said heavily. “Going in the servants’ entrance to avoid being seen. Travelling incognito to not cause a scene. Less visitors or invitations to visit because people won’t wish to be associated with us.”

Grantaire eyed him warily. “I feel as though you are trying to make a point.”

Enjolras shrugged. “Just that I do not care about any of those things. But I would understand if you did, and if the reality of our life together does not align with what you may otherwise have expected.”

To his surprise, Grantaire laughed. “How many times must you and I have this conversation?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I wish that you had chosen a better life for yourself than one stuck with me, who was always titleless and is about to be in short order landless and penniless to boot, just as you wish I had chosen a better life for myself,” Grantaire said, a little impatiently. “But you and I both know that the best choice, the only choice, is each other and whatever accompanies that.”

Enjolras laughed as well, feeling a little relieved that they were on the same page in terms of what mattered. “You’re right.”

“I usually am,” Grantaire said smugly before reaching for Enjolras’s hand and lacing their fingers together. Une vie et un amour, remember?”

“Fidelitas usque ad mortem,” Enjolras said, his voice low, and Grantaire smiled.

“And I still aim to be.”

Together, they stepped down from the carriage and made their way into the Musain through the backdoor. The workers they passed barely gave them second glances, though Enjolras assumed that was likely because they recognized them as frequent patrons, and knew better than to stop or question them.

But despite arriving almost a half hour before the meeting Combeferre had called was set to begin, when they reached the backroom, they could hear the buzz of voices through the closed door. Grantaire gave him a startled look. “Has the meeting already begun?”

“It certainly appears that way,” Enjolras said, feeling inexplicably nervous as he stared at the closed door, straining to hear what was being said beyond it.

“Did Combeferre not say that it would start at 9?”

Enjolras nodded. “He did, but…” He trailed off, not willing to vocalize his doubts. Instead, he squared his shoulders and opened the door, walking in with Grantaire at his side. Combeferre and Courfeyrac stood at the front of the room, the rest of their number assembled, all looking unusually somber, and all conversation stalled as soon as they looked back at Enjolras. “Forgive the interruption,” Enjolras said coolly, closing the door behind him. “I did not realize the hour of our meeting had changed.”

“It didn’t,” Combeferre said, his expression impassive. “But there was certain business we felt we should attend to before your arrival.”

“What sort of business?” Grantaire asked with a frown.

Combeferre did not seem deterred by his tone. “The business of determining if your continued membership amongst our association is beneficial or a detriment, mostly.”

“I see,” Enjolras said, his heart sinking in his chest. “Well, don’t let us impede your discussion.”

“We have nothing left to discuss,” Courfeyrac interjected. “All that remains is to vote.”

Grantaire reached out and took Enjolras’s hand, lacing their fingers together firmly. Combeferre cleared his throat. “All those in favor of expelling Enjolras and Grantaire from our number due to their sexual deviance and the threat that it poses to Les Amis and our efforts?”

Not a single hand rose in the air, and Grantaire squeezed Enjolras’s hand.

“And all those opposed?”

As one, all of their friends raised their hands before standing and applauding. Joly and Bossuet were positively beaming, Courfeyrac wolf-whistled, and Combeferre stepped forward to embrace Enjolras. “There was never any doubt which way the vote would go,” he told Enjolras, “but I knew you would not be satisfied if there was no vote at all.”

“Besides, if we start exiling people for buggery, there are more than a few of us who would be in trouble,” Courfeyrac said cheerfully as he embraced Enjolras as well.

“Hear, hear,” Bahorel chortled.

Joly took Bossuet’s hand and squeezed it. “Grantaire helped us avoid a scandal of our own, and we owe him our loyalty,” he said. “Besides which, I swore to go through fire for you, and I would not forsake that oath lightly.”

“Thank you, my friends,” Enjolras said quietly, his chest tight with emotion.

Grantaire squeezed his hand once more before leaning in and whispering in his ear, “It appears I am not the only one who understands the meaning of loyalty until death.” Enjolras wordlessly squeezed his hand in return and Grantaire smiled at him before asking Courfeyrac, “But one of our number is missing, is he not? Where is your erstwhile roommate this evening?”

“Oh, he has found the girl he was looking for,” Courfeyrac said airily. “It turns out your little announcement was good for more than one thing – she was the one who swooned in his arms!”

Much laughter greeted that announcement and Enjolras shook his head. “Leave it to Marius…” he started before trailing off, glancing around the room at the smiling faces of each of his friends, all those whom he loved most in this world. “Thank you all,” he said softly. “I know this will not be easy, but I appreciate your continued faith and love.”

“Our goal has always been to fight against oppressive powers in whatever form,” Combeferre told him. “And condemning men based on consensual acts in their bed chamber would be playing into that oppression.”

“Just promise us one thing,” Bossuet interjected.

Enjolras raised both eyebrows. “What’s what?”

“No funny business,” Bossuet said, mock-sternly. “No suddenly agreeing with everything the other says just because it’s your lover saying it.”

Again everyone laughed and Enjolras shook his head good-naturedly. “I don’t think we’re in much danger of that.”

“After all,” Grantaire added slyly, “what I love far more than him agreeing with me is that delightful shade of red he gets when he so vehemently disagrees with me. Who am I to give that up now?”

“In truth,” Enjolras said when the laughter again died down, “we aim to keep things as much the same as we can.”

“And we’ll be relying on you lot to keep it that way,” Grantaire said.

“There’s one other promise we would ask,” Feuilly said, glancing around. “Or at least, that I would ask.”

Enjolras’s smile faded, just slightly, at Feuilly’s far more serious tone. “If it is in our power to grant it, we will.”

“No more lies.” There were a few murmurs of agreement that Feuilly waited to die down before continuing, “There is not a man among us who does not understand the reason for your deception, but we in this room are brothers, and we deserve the truth no matter what consequence it may bring.”

Grantaire took Enjolras’s hand once more and squeezed it before affirming, “No more lies. We owe not just you the truth from here on out, but each other as well. And it’s the very least that we can give in return for your generosity and personal sacrifices.”

“In that case, let us open the wine and get the celebration started,” Jehan called, standing up on his chair to be seen. “To Enjolras and Grantaire!”

“To Enjolras and Grantaire!” everyone repeated, whatever glasses they had in hand, and Enjolras rolled his eyes with obvious affection before leaning in and kissing Grantaire as everyone cheered.

Grantaire was grinning as he pulled away, and that sight alone was enough to make everything they had endured and everything that they had left to endure absolutely worth it in Enjolras’s opinion. But before he could say anything to that effect to Grantaire, Joly and Bossuet grabbed Grantaire by both arms, tugging him away. “You owe us more than mere truth,” Joly said, with an almost evil grin. “You owe us details.”

“Exactly,” Bossuet said, wearing a matching smile. “And we want to hear all about your first time bedding Enjolras.”

“We promised the truth, not all the gory details,” Grantaire protested, making a pleading face at Enjolras, who just laughed.

Before he could rescue him, Combeferre pulled him aside. “I wanted a moment, if it is not too much of an imposition.”

Enjolras clapped him on the shoulder. “For you, my friend, never. Especially as I believe I owe you especially an apology for our deceit.”

Combeferre shook his head. “I understand it more now,” he said. “And honestly, I’m surprised I did not put the pieces together earlier.”

“Grantaire said he was always a little obvious, even if I never noticed either,” Enjolras said good-naturedly.

But Combeferre just shook his head. “Grantaire may have been, but it’s you I should have noticed.”

“Me?”

Combeferre shrugged. “Looking back on it, all the clues were there, least of all how you allowed Grantaire to stay, not just for meetings, but well into the night when you were ostensibly working, a privilege bestowed on no one else. And I cannot help but think that if I had noticed sooner, we would have had more time to plan, to minimize the fallout.”

Enjolras just shook his head. “My friend, you could have told me until you were blue in the face that I was completely and obviously in love with Grantaire, and I would never have believed you,” he said. “It was something I needed to figure out with him.” He made a face. “Though you are right that I should have told you sooner, before we made our announcement, so that plans could have been made in advance, and for that, I do owe you an apology.”

“One that I readily accept,” Combeferre told him. “And the only recompense I ask from you is the answer to this: are you happy?”

“Yes,” Enjolras said, without even needing to consider it. “More so than I thought was possible, or at least probable.”

Combeferre gave him a wide, genuine smile. “Then the rest we will deal with when or if the time comes.”

Again, Enjolras’s chest felt tight with emotion, with the weight of how much his friends cared for him and Grantaire. “I truly do not know how to thank you, how to thank everyone, for what you have given Grantaire and myself.”

“There is no need to thank us,” Combeferre said. “Especially since you have given us something equally precious.”

“What do you mean?”

“You are free,” Combeferre said simply. “And that gives the rest of us hope.”

----------

Enjolras let out a sigh of relief mingled with happiness as he sat down in the waiting carriage. Grantaire clambered in after him, and sat down on the bench next to him instead of sitting across from him. “That went well.”

“That went far better than well,” Enjolras said.

Grantaire glanced sideways at him. “Surely you did not expect Combeferre or Courfeyrac to abandon you, or honestly any of our friends.”

Enjolras just shrugged. “In truth, I did not know what to expect.” He nudged Grantaire gently. “Thank you, by the way.”

“Whatever for?”

“For making my life complete,” Enjolras said honestly. “And so completely happy.”

Grantaire smiled at him, his eyes shining even in the dim light of the carriage, but he promptly ruined the moment by asking, “How much wine did you drink?”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “I had half a glass at best,” he protested. “Not nearly enough to undermine my sincerity. Nor my conviction that somehow, against all odds and, frankly, against our own efforts to the contrary, everything for us is turning out better than I ever could have imagined, let alone hoped.”

Grantaire rested his head against Enjolras’s shoulder. “We have been extraordinarily lucky,” he murmured.

“We have been,” Enjolras agreed, squeezing Grantaire’s hand. “We have our friends, and we have each other. Whatever else comes our way, so long as we still have that, we will be fine.”

“More than fine,” Grantaire corrected, raising Enjolras’s hand to his lips to kiss his knuckles. “Our future will be happy. Of that, I am as certain as anything.”

“Being in love really has changed you if you suddenly start espousing convictions,” Enjolras teased.

But Grantaire just smiled at him. “It’s changed us both.”

“For the better?” Enjolras asked.

Grantaire kissed him, a gentle, sweet kiss that was a promise of more to come. “For the best.”

#enjolras #grantaire #exr #enjolras x grantaire #enjoltaire #les amis #bridgerton au #canon era #regency au #chaptered #part 13 #fake marriage

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jasontoddiefor · 4 years ago

Text

nobody's keeping score

Ship: HideKane

Summary: In a world where ink stains the white papers of constitutions, damning the lives of ghouls, their existence is no secret or rumor, but a topic of heated debate, protests, and anonymous organ donations in shady alleys. No matter how bright the CCG appears in their white coats, their light cannot reach the dark tunnels where ghouls and sympathizers alike are plotting. And when Hide, after hours of sitting at his best friend’s hospital bed, sees him wake with one eye black and red, the difficult question is not how to get him help, but how to avoid him becoming the figurehead of a conflict threatening to turn into a bloody revolution.

AN: Notes: You ever just take a 4-year break from a fandom and return with spite fic because you remembered how much you hated canon? Yeah. This fanfic is my attempt at corralling the TG worldbuilding into something coherent that makes sense. I will keep some elements of canon, others I will throw out of the window straight away. This is utterly self-indulgent.

“And with the developments in synthetic meat production—”

Hide wanted to groan. They’d been discussing the same question for the last three hours of class and he was, frankly speaking, done with it. People were running out of arguments and circling back to topics that didn’t contribute anything to the conversation they were supposed to be having. From the way their lecturer was glaring at the latest speaker, Hide would say that she was also very done.

“Yoshimura, as stated before, we are not discussing possibilities for ghoul integration, but the mere premise of whether they even deserve the rights needed to legalize their status as citizens. The right of existence of an individual should not be dependent on what modifications would have to be made to accommodate them, but whether they deserve to live regardless.”

Hide had zoned out about an hour ago. His opinion on ghouls had always felt rather clinical, mathematically detached, despite Hide’s history. Maybe too much time had passed since he’d looked at the bloody remains of his father to really hammer home the fear-motivated rejection so many people fell to. Perhaps the CCG investigators, who had dragged him away from his father’s corpse, should have allowed him to get a little more traumatized before the kindness of his new parents had become enough to dull those painful memories.

Some ghouls were no different than brutal serial killers, and they had to be taken down, but the rest seemed to be getting by just fine. If a new legislation would make it even easier for them to go about their everyday lives, perhaps the number of violent ghoul attacks would go down as well. Hide was well aware that this was the view of a privileged person. Growing up in the 20th ward meant that you needn’t be scared of leaving your house when it was already dark. Kamii University prided itself on the fact that it could safely offer evening classes such as the one Hide was attending now. The same certainly couldn’t be said for the other wards. Any citizen between the 9th and 13th wards would probably advocate vocally for the extermination of ghouls. The 11th especially resembled a warzone even during the daylight. Ghoul sightings were nothing unusual there, and investigators’ mutilated bodies were displayed as trophies and warnings alike. Meanwhile, nobody had died in the 20th war for something like ten odd years. Sometimes it felt like waiting for the other shoe to drop, but most of the time, Hide didn’t even think about ghouls.

By the time class was finally over, Hide had taken only one or two more bullet points. They hadn’t really said anything of interest and it reflected in his writing. Usually, Hide would be sending rapid-fire texts to Kaneki now, but his friend was still on his date and Hide didn’t want to bother him. It had taken more than just a bit of teasing and probing to get Kaneki to ask that girl out and he wouldn’t self-sabotage his hard work.

It was good that Kaneki was connecting to people that weren’t just Hide.

And it would be awesome if Hide could do the same.

Codependence needed two people to work and Kaneki was definitely not the only one struggling with independence. Hide had yet to figure out how to let go of Kaneki when his relationship to the other boy had been the only stable thing in his world for the longest time. Nothing said mental health like latching onto an abused child to escape the stifling air of his brand-new foster fathers’ home.

The next time he visited his parents, he’d bring them some flowers to make up for how troublesome he’d been as a child.

Glancing at his phone again, Hide realized he had to hurry if he wanted to take the early bus home. He was just about to plug in his headphones when an unknown number flashed up on the display. Who would call him at this time? Hide was definitely someone who preferred texting. Even his parents knew better than to call unless it was serious. The only person he ever actually called was Kaneki, and that was only because his friend sometimes got so lost in a book, he forgot to text back or didn’t even hear the phone buzz. Hide contemplated picking up for another ring, then gave in and accepted. “Nagachika Hideyoshi speaking, who’s calling?”

“Hello, I am Tanaka Akako, a nurse of the Kanou General Hospital. You are Nagachika Hideyoshi, Kaneki Ken’s emergency contact?”

The blood in Hide’s veins froze.

“Yes, I am. Has— has anything happened? Is Kaneki alright!?”

The nurse’s voice was so calm, steady, and pleasant as if this was a chat between friends. Somewhere Hide knew that it probably helped most people, but it just put him on edge. “Nagachika-san, your friend and another young woman were involved in an accident. Dr. Kanou is preparing him for surgery, but as his emergency contact, we have to discuss the possible options before we can proceed.”

Hide didn’t want to discuss any options. There shouldn’t be any besides Kaneki’s survival. Hide wanted to rush into the operation hall and hold Kaneki’s hand, wishing he could turn back time, tell his friend to remain at his side and consider that girl out of his league so he’d spent the evening with him and not getting sent to ER. This couldn’t be real; he was sick to his stomach.

“What are the options?” Hide asked, panic threatening to strangle him as he rushed to the street, trying to find a taxi to take him to Kanou General straightaway.

“Kaneki-san sustained serious injuries. Dr. Kanou is willing to transplant the deceased Kamishiro-san’s organs into your friend to save his life even if her family hasn’t consented yet. The only consent we can ask for in Kaneki-san’s case is yours and—”

“Do it,” Hide replied immediately. He didn’t know Kaneki’s date, and as much as Hide loved people, argued for a baseline acceptance every day in class, he couldn’t bring himself to care about the wishes of a family whose daughter was already dead. The only thing they were still good for once their hearts stopped beating was serving the living with their remains.

Kaneki might survive because of her; what else could matter? “Do it, whatever you need to save him— you have my full permission.”

Finally, a taxi approached and stopped right when Hide waved for it. He quickly climbed inside and, paying no attention to the driver, told him to get to the hospital as quickly as possible.

“And in case he doesn’t survive, may his organs—”

“He will survive,” Hide pressed because he didn’t know what he’d do with himself if he were to lose Kaneki. He’d built a life around his best friend and how much they meant to one another. Hide couldn’t give up on that, couldn’t let it slip past his fingers. “He’ll survive. I know it.”

Organ transplants took place every day without any complications—

Hide’s eyes widened. “Kaneki has recessive ROS!” he all but shouted at the nurse, startling the taxi driver.

Kaneki’s father had died because of it. If Kaneki got the wrong blood transfusions or anything, his RC cells were suddenly pushed to start acting up, the dormant sickness could turn on and what if Hide had just damned him to a life of wasting away—

No.

Stay positive. Don’t freak out even more. They hadn’t done anything yet, merely asked for Hide’s permission to help Kaneki at all. He was saving his friend’s life; he wasn’t cursing him.

“Thank you for telling me, Nagachika-san. I will pass that on to Dr. Kanou. You have just contributed immensely to the safety of the procedure.”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” Hide said. “Just— he has to hold on. Tell Kaneki he has to hold on until I’m there.”

“We will, Nagachika-san, don’t worry. Dr. Kanou will do his best.”

His best.

The words echoed in Hide’s mind. How was he ever supposed to know if Kanou’s best would be enough for his friend? Hide excelled at being optimistic, could see the positive side of most things in life, had learned how to be hopeful at the funerals of people he’d loathed. He just couldn’t allow himself to drown in any negative possibilities.

The rest of the drive passed in the blur, either because the driver had known to speed up after listening in on the phone call, or because Hide was so out of it that he didn’t really register the streetlamps flickering by until the taxi had reached its destination. Hide passed the driver a couple bills, probably more than the transport had actually cost, but he didn’t care. What were one or two skipped meals compared to being there before it was too late? Hide rushed inside the sterile white hospital, eyes immediately set on the front desk.

“My friend,” Hide stuttered as he clung to the counter, holding it as if it were his lifeline. “He was brought in— an accident. He was on a date and there was an accident. Dr. Kanou is operating him?”

The receptionist seemed confused, needing a moment to make something coherent out of Hide’s rambles. “I need your identification before I can tell you anything about our patients.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Hide fumbled for his student ID card and put it on the counter with shaky hands. “Nagachika Hideyoshi, I’m Kaneki Ken’s emergency contact.”

“Of course, your friend is still in the operating room. You can wait here.”

Hide didn’t want to wait, but what else was there he could do? He hated feeling useless like this, unable to contribute anything productive. The receptionist sent him a kind look and, defeated, Hide crossed the entrance hall to the waiting room where he remained together with other worried family members and patients, clutching his phone so he wouldn’t start screaming. He couldn’t stop moving his legs, stress keeping him wide awake even as the hospital emptied and less and less people sat around him. How long did such an operation take? An hour? Two? Hide had absolutely no idea. He didn’t study anything like this. His major was English literature, which was about as helpful as hot air at this moment.

He could quote enough books concerned with some medical drama and family members in the hospital, but none of them brought him any comfort.

“Nagachika-san?”

Hide looked up into the kind face of an elderly man wearing a pristine white coat.

“Y- yes?” Hide replied and quickly stood up, brushing imaginary dust from his pants. “Are you Dr. Kanou? Is my friend alright? Can I see him?”

“I am sorry to have caused you such worries. The operation went well. Your friend is resting in intensive care right now. He is still asleep, but you may visit him. The presence of loved ones is often very beneficial to the healing process.”

Healing.

A sob shook Hide’s shoulders. Kaneki was alive. He hadn’t died.

“Thank you,” he managed to say in between his sobs. “Thank you, thank you for saving his life.”

The doctor only kept on smiling and kindly put his hand on Hide’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly in what was meant to be comforting. “It is my job, young man. You don’t have to thank me. Nothing is more important to me than saving innocent lives. If you follow one of the nurses, you can see your friend immediately.”

Hide thanked the doctor once more, relief slowly filling the pits anxiety had hollowed out. He followed the nurse through the labyrinth of death, decay, healing, and salvation up to the intensive care station. Quietly, he was led to a room. The door opened, revealing one lone figure on a bed.

From a distance, hooked up with so many tubes and wires, Kaneki was nothing like the person who took up half of Hide’s life. He seemed so much smaller and looked like just one push could snap his connection to life.

“Please remain quiet,” the nurse told him. “And don’t move him.” Glancing at his still trembling fingers, she added, “but you may hold his hand.”

Hide nodded, then quickly crossed the room to Kaneki’s bed and sat down on the chair next to it. Kaneki didn’t move at all; not even a single muscle twitched. Hide would assume they had led him to view his friend’s corpse if not for the steady rise and fall of his chest. Pushing up the sleeves of his jacket, Hide took Kaneki’s hand in his own.

“Hey, Ken,” he muttered, pressing his eye close so no tears would escape them. “You scared me there. Don’t ever do that again.”

Predictably, Kaneki didn’t reply. Nevertheless, Hide imagined that just for a moment, he squeezed Hide’s hand back. Slowly, the tension bled from Hides’s shoulders and he made himself comfortable in the hard plastic chair. This was bound to be a long night and he was starting to feel his exhaustion catch up to him. He tried to keep his eyes trained on his friend for as long as possible, remaining alert for a change to his condition, but it was getting more and more difficult to keep them open.

Eventually, the darkness caught him as he fell. Hide knew he stirred a couple more times during the night, likely when the nurses came to check on Kaneki. Nobody asked him to move and leave, something he was immensely thankful for. He wouldn’t have been able to let go. By the time the sun began to chase away the shadows again, Hide wasn’t sure how much he had slept, only that it had definitely not been enough. But that was alright, he could catch up on sleep sometime later. It was far more important that Kaneki was going to be alright.

Hide turned to look at Kaneki’s face and found his friend awake, staring back at him.

One eye gray like a stormy cloud before the morning rainfall.

The other was blood-red against the night sky.

#tokyo ghoul #hideyoshi nagachika #kaneki ken #tg #hidekane #fanfic #what UP i'm back with spite fic #also on ao3 #but i will add the link later bc tumblr likes to mess up

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thosewickedlovelies · 4 years ago

Text

Into the Woods: chapter 1 | Frankie Morales x GN!Reader

Summary: Neither you nor Frankie are expecting to run into anyone in the middle of the woods.

Tags: none!! all audiences!

Word Count: 3,054

Note: HE’S HERE!!! Please enjoy the official first installment of the outdoors insta frankie series 🌳📷😍 So much love to the wonderful @yoditorian for coming up with this concept and Frankie’s IG name, and also helping me brainstorm 💗💗💗

Backstory

---

Francisco Morales loves this shit. Walking for hours without seeing another soul, nothing to think about but where to place his feet on the path ahead of him. Assuming he’s following a path at all. These are his woods- the country surrounding the house he’s lived in for years, a place just shy of isolated from the nearest town. They’re not really his, legally. He’s not exactly sure what the rules of land designation entail, but it’s not a national park, and no one has ever chased him up about the occasional wood-chopping or campfire-building he does.

So he walks.

It’s a damn perfect day for it, too. Brilliantly sunny with a hint of breeze, rustling the greenery around him and carrying the scents of sun-warmed leaves and late summer flowers. The birds are in high spirits, their vibrant chirping filling the air with chatter. Screeches of alarm, sometimes, too- a side effect of hiking with a giant energetic dog. Frankie watches ruefully as Oso crashes off into the undergrowth again, doubtless chasing down some poor creature.

He slows his pace to wait for her, taking the opportunity for a water break. His heavy pack thuds to the ground. Frankie grunts as he stretches, rotating his shoulders and flapping his sweaty t-shirt away from his back. I should really hike along the river more often, he muses. He doesn’t mind working up a sweat (obviously), but a ready supply of cool water during a long hike does wonders for one’s well-being.

“Boof!” Oso’s deep bark as she returns brings Frankie’s attention to her.

“Yeah? Would you like that, too? A nice swim in the river to cool you down?” He crouches to ruffle her neck fur the way she likes. Oso only pants in answer, blinking at him adoringly.

She slurps thirstily as Frankie pours some water from his bottle into her mouth. He chuckles. “Don’t worry, Osita, we’ll be near some water soon.”

Their goal today is a small pond Frankie had only found earlier this year. It’s a good spot for his campfire cooking, as well as endlessly photogenic. This is marginally important to him, as he attempts to keep a regular diary of his wanderings through instagram. It’s mostly for fun, but like anyone else, he isn’t immune to the particular buzz from his posts unexpectedly getting a high number of likes.

But he had also discovered that he wasn’t the only one with this hobby. There were whole communities of people out there who found peace the same way he did, and they happily gave advice if ever he posted about a struggle.

Frankie pauses again a short way away from the pond to make sure he’s on course. Oso sniffs around excitedly, bounding off again while Frankie checks his GPS. “Huh.” Looking around, he laughs at himself a little when it tells him he’s almost walked past it. He rotates to his left and thinks he spots the telltale gap in the trees ahead. He tucks the GPS away.

Oso barks from somewhere ahead of him. A split second later, a human yelp sounds from the same direction. His eyes widen.

“Shit!” Frankie breaks into a run. In all the years he’s been out here, he rarely sees other people this far from the trails. “Oso!” he yells. “Here, girl!”

Oso isn’t aggressive (unless the situation warrants it), but whatever new friend she thinks she’s meeting won’t know that. Frankie races toward where he judges the noise came from, heart pounding. He bursts through some bushes and is almost knocked down by his beast jumping up to greet him.

“Hey, girl, who was- no!” Oso peels away again across a bit of clear ground, her collar slipping through Frankie’s fingers. He’s barreling toward where her tail wags from behind a bush, when you stand.

Frankie skids to a stop so abruptly his feet slide out from under him. His ass hits the ground with a thud, his rucksack taking only part of the fall. He scrambles upright gracelessly, clumsy with the weight on his back, never taking his eyes off of you.

You stare at each other.

Nothing about this moment feels real to Frankie- you could announce that you’re the dryad who rules this forest and he would believe you, that’s how unlikely your appearance is. Shifting sunbeams dapple your skin, and even from several feet away he can tell that you have the most striking eyes he’s ever seen.

For a second your gaze flicks down to the side. You lean slightly as if something has nudged you, and as you move your hand away from it Frankie realizes you’re holding something.

Shit. He returns to his senses. Is that a weapon?

He’s met people on the trails before, most of them harmless fellow hikers. But occasionally there are some with weird vibes, especially the farther away from the paths you got. He’s fully capable of defending himself, but that doesn’t mean he wants to have to.

“Oso! Here!” Frankie says sternly. Your expression doesn’t change as you watch the dog trot over to him. Jaw set, wide eyes tracking his every motion.

He supposes he can’t blame you for being wary. Or armed. It’s a perfectly reasonable response to running into a strange man in the middle of the woods. He knows he’s not exactly the picture of reassurance. Tall and broad, probably too sweaty to believably claim he’s on a casual hike. He decides to speak.

“Sorry to startle you.” Frankie keeps his hands by his sides where you can see them, resting one on Oso’s head. “I wasn’t expecting to see anyone this far from the trails.”

Your tense stance doesn’t relax. “Me either.”

His head tips to the side. “Do you come to this area regularly, then?” He tries to keep his voice slow and soothing.

He can see you assessing him, trying to measure how safe he is. “I have been recently. What about you?”

“All the time. Me and Oso take nice long walks.” Frankie pats the dog’s head in a more formal introduction. “I like to come out here and cook.” Your brow furrows at that, bemusement appearing amidst your guarded features. Before you can respond, he prompts “What are you doing this far off the main paths?”

“Foraging. You come all the way out here to cook?” Disbelief is etched in every line of your face.

Well, when you say it like that.

Foraging. That makes perfect sense. Frankie follows a few of them on instagram. He’s always pleased when he notices the more obvious edible plants and berries, but it’s not usually his focus. His vegetable garden at home takes up most of his efforts. It’s managed to thrive in the years since he started it after leaving the army, and it’s become a source of pride for him to be able to wander out, pick some things for the day’s meal, and head right into the woods.

“Yeah,” he responds. “Here, I can show you. I keep an instagram.”

Your eyebrows rise even higher at that.

Moving slowly and watching for your reaction, Frankie holds his hands up as he turns, keeping one in the air while the other makes a show of tugging his phone from a side pocket of his pack. He keeps the screen visible as he opens the app, then pulls his arm back in the beginning of an underhanded throw. Poised as such, he looks at you expectantly.

Now you’re almost frowning. Clearly still suspicious, but possibly fractionally less concerned about danger from a man willing to give his phone to a complete stranger in the woods. Hesitantly, you raise your hands to catch it.

Finally Frankie can make out that the thing in your hand in a canister of mace. The sight inexplicably relieves him. Pepper spray is a normal person’s defense, something that anyone might carry to help themselves feel safe. Far from the kind of weapon he would fear from someone angling for true violence.

All of this decided in the space of a second, Frankie gently tosses you his phone.

You’re so distracted by delighting in the prolific blackberry bushes which surround your pond that you don’t hear the approaching creature until it’s upon you.

You screech in shock at the massive fur-thing’s appearance, bowling you over from your crouch. It doesn’t seem bothered about wanting you to pet it, only wiggling and sniffing at you enthusiastically. You register the collar around its neck at the same you hear the shout.

“Oso!” That must be its name. “Here, girl!” The dog dashes away, then back, clearly torn about leaving her new friend so soon.

Icy adrenaline douses your system. That was a man’s voice, rough and cavernous. Who knows what kind of person he could be, no matter the earnestness of his dog? Your hands shake as you rip open your bag for the canister of mace you’ve never had to use.

There’s a pronounced rustle and then his voice sounds again, terrifyingly close. “Hey, girl, who was- no!”

Shit. The dog is back, looking at you eagerly, rear in the air and tail wagging like this is an exciting game. You have to choose a course of action quickly. Twisting the safety off the pepper spray, you rise to your feet.

His reaction is almost funny; you think you might have laughed if this was literally any other scenario. Like a cartoon character slipping on a banana peel, the man wrenches himself to a stop with such force his feet fly up from the ground. The contents of his bulging pack crunch against the earth, but he barely seems to notice he’s fallen, keeping his eyes on yours the entire time he cycles back to his feet.

You stare at each other.

That’s a man all right. Towering even from this distance, with wide shoulders that help the impression. His eyes are round and stunned, the cap on his head knocked slightly askew and freeing sweat-dark curls to spring around his ears.

Your first thought is that he looks warm. Not temperature warm, although the gleam of sweat on his neck confirms that, too. But approachable warm. There’s a softness to his body that belies the muscle his motions highlight, creases around his eyes that wrinkle brown like tree bark in the sun.

Then his dog noses your thigh, reminding you that you have pepper spray in your hand because you’re in the middle of the damn woods with a potentially threating stranger. You risk a half-second glance down to move the canister away from her face.

You regard the man with stony distrust, fear flushing your face and neck with heat. Confrontation makes the blood roar in your ears, but it gradually quiets as he orders the creature away from you. For several more seconds the only sound is rustling leaves.

He clears his throat. “Sorry to startle you,” he says. “I wasn’t expecting to see anyone this far from the trails.”

His voice doesn’t sound as harsh now that he’s not frantically shouting for his dog. Still you keep your answer short. “Me either.”

His head tilts inquisitively. “Do you come to this area regularly, then?”

That’s a fair question. He has a right to be curious too. “I have been recently. What about you?”

“All the time. Me and Oso take nice long walks.” The man pats her head, and the dog’s ears perk up. “I like to come out here and cook.” Wait, what? Before you have a chance to process that, he continues. “What are you doing this far off the main paths?”

You won’t be deterred. “Foraging. You come all the way out here to cook?” If this is some elaborate murder setup, that’s not a very plausible lie.

“Yeah,” he answers. “Here, I can show you. I keep an instagram.”

You’re slightly more skeptical than fearful now. You watch silently as the man turns in place, putting the side of his backpack in your line of sight so you can see him fish his phone out. He makes his actions slow and obvious. The white background of an instagram page glows on the screen as he retracts his arm in a throwing pose. Clear eyes meet yours.

What? This guy is just going to...give you his phone, no questions asked? Taken aback, you can feel the deep grooves of a frown between your eyebrows as you consider.

You’re hesitant to reveal the pepper spray, but if there’s still some possibility this is a trick, he might second-guess attacking you if he sees you’re armed. You ready yourself for a catch.

Which you accomplish, easily, his toss landing the phone right in your hands. The dog lurches forward, but this time man has a grip on her collar and she’s forced to halt with a whine.

“Sorry, girl. We’re not playing fetch right now, okay? Sit!” The man doesn’t even seem concerned with monitoring you, looking down seriously at his dog as he speaks.

You keep one eye on them as you turn your attention to the screen. Frankieintheforest, reads the username at the top of the page. Just a guy out in the woods, continues his bio. Well, that’s accurate, anyway. Frankie, huh? You spare him another glance, matching various features of him to the ones in his photos. A broad hand here, sturdy hiking boots there. Several glimpses of the same flannel that’s currently tied to the strap of his backpack. His face in a few group shots. You click on an image which shows Oso parading around a yard with a grinning toddler on her back. “Ferocious beast carries away yet another victim,” quips the caption. An involuntary smile tugs at the corner of your mouth.

There are too many photos going too far back for it to be fake. You turn the screen toward him. “Cute kid,” you comment. “Is she yours?”

His eyebrows lift in surprise. “No,” the man half laughs. “My buddy’s. I’m just the godfather.” A small smile softens his face as he takes in the picture.

Being named godfather was nothing to sneeze at. You study the man carefully, keeping your face neutral. He seems genuine, his dog keen and friendly. Dogs were a good judge of character, right? Indicative of the character of their owner? He hasn’t demanded anything from you, not done anything threatening beyond just being here.

You glance between him and the phone again. “Frankie?” you question.

He raises one hand in a wave, directing a crooked sort of smile at you. “That’s me,” Frankie confirms.

You offer him your name in return. “Uh, you can have this back now.” You gesture with the phone.

He brings his hands up to catch it, and you thank every deity you know of when your throw connects. You’re at a bit of a loss for what to do next, however. You suppose this means you’re at a truce. But you still don’t think you’d be able to let yourself focus on foraging while knowing there’s a stranger wandering so nearby.

Frankie seems to be thinking the same thing. One hand rubs over the back of his neck. “Well,” he begins. “My plans for today were to sit by this pond and cook over a fire.” He points his thumb to the right, where not far away the reflection of sunlight on water wavers against the tree trunks.

“You can join me if you want.” He shrugs awkwardly. “I’m just gonna collect some tinder and then park it, so you don’t have to worry about me interrupting your foraging or anything.”

Oso finally wriggles free of his grasp and surges forward, leaping across to you with a triumphant woof! “Oso, no!” Frankie stumbles after her, only to stop after two steps, clearly unwilling to make you uncomfortable by getting too close. He looks on helplessly, hands flexing.

“It’s okay,” you assure him. This time you offer her your free hand to sniff, which she does, before promptly shoving her head beneath it for pets. Amused, you comply. Her multi-hued fur is soft beneath your fingers.

“You’re alright, aren’t you, Oso?” You dart a self-conscious glance back up to her owner, but he appears content to let you coo at his dog.

“She’s a good judge of character,” Frankie says simply.

You swallow. Those deep brown eyes linger over you, and this is all just a bit...much. “Right. Well. I’m just going to…” you ease back, hoping to convey ‘continue going about your business.’

“Oh, sure!” He takes a little hop backward. “I’ll be...here.” His hand makes a small circling motion to indicate a limited nearby area. “You’ll hear me before you see me. Or Oso.”

Frankie frowns slightly as if something has occurred to him. “Uh, she might want to follow you around today though. I can tie her to a tree if that would bother you? I don’t usually watch her too closely,” he admits sheepishly.

“Oh, that’s okay.” You realize that you mean it as your thoughts continue to form. “She’ll make for good protection if I meet any more big scary strangers.” You aim the last words down to the dog herself, sending a wry a sidelong glance to said stranger.

He chuckles again, a rasp of a sound like creaking branches. “That’s fair. But I meant it when I said I’ve never seen anyone else in this particular area. You’re pretty safe.” He punctuates his statement with a nod to the canister still in your hand, soft understanding clear in his face.

Your head ducks slightly. “Well,” you say again. ”I’ll..see you around. I guess.” You don’t wait for a farewell, turning to foist your pack back onto your shoulder. You strain your ears for any noise behind you as you flee, but there’s no sound of pursuit.

“Go ahead. Have fun, Oso,” Frankie calls, already at a distance from your quick pace. There’s a distinctly animal scurrying, and then the dog bursts into being by your side.

Your arms wheel as you jump. “Jeez, you are enormous,” you mumble, pausing to pet her again. Discreetly you look over your shoulder in time to see Frankie turn away from you, heading for your pond.

Post note: I know pepper spray is like, super illegal in the UK and other places, but it’s not abnormal to carry around in the US so just pretend it’s fine.

Taglist: @thirstworldproblemss, @leonieb, @computeringturtle

#frankie morales x reader #francisco catfish morales x reader #triple frontier fic #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #triple frontier #outdoors insta frankie

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catgrump · 4 years ago

Note

Hiiii!!!! Would you be able to maybe write 👉👈 "tell me about yourself" for Sonia and Gundham? Maybe something that happens while the killing game is happening?

(Looks at my pile of requests)

(Sees Sondham)

Yeah fine lol

Y’all keep asking for my favorite ships while I’m anxiously waiting to release my new prompt list lmao stop that /hj

So uh this is actually College AU SORRY I had a much stronger idea for that

Ibuki is also here as Gundham’s sister cuz Gundham & Ibuki siblings make me go brrrrr

🌻🌻🌻

“You truly believe these photographs truly encompass my being?” Gundham asked, furrowing his brow at his phone’s screen

“Absotutely posalutely!” His sister Ibuki declared, clinging her chipped nail polish hands onto his shoulders, “Especially the one of you with the Devas; people are gonna go NUTS over that.”

“Hm,” Gundham pondered Ibuki’s choice in photos, but he has no experience with this sort of thing, so he trusts her judgement, “Now I am required to write a biography?”

“Yeah! Tell people about yourself so you can attract people who’d like you,” Ibuki explained, peering over his shoulder

“Do you have any suggestions?” He asked, his thumbs frozen in place, hovering above the screen

“Maybe like... hmmm,” Ibuki hummed as she thought, but then realized something, “Well hold on. Ibuki doesn’t know what you’re looking for here, my guy.”

“What I’m looking for?” Gundham needed clarification

“Well in Ibuki’s experience, bios for people who just want to hook up are REALLY different than bios of people who are looking for something more.”

“Ah, I see. I believe I would prefer a more substantial relationship.”

“Okay, so you should say in the bio you’re looking for that kind of commitment,” Ibuki chirped

Gundham started typing:

I seek a mortal brave enough to attempt to become my dark consort

“Oooh fun!” Ibuki encouraged him

“Do I need to declare any more?”

“Yeah yeah tell people what kind of stuff you like!”

He typed some more:

My Four Dark Devas of Destruction (featured in the third photograph) shall determine whether or not you are a worthy partner. Our courtship will not continue if they judge you unfavorably. This is not personal.

“Uh huh uh huh uh huh,” Ibuki enthusiastically nodded her head in approval

“I should specify that I have no preference for gender, I presume?”

“Yeah definitely!”

Bisexual

“If there’s nothing else you can think of, I think this is a good place to start,” Ibuki clapped her hands together in excitement

“Fantastic.”

“Now comes the fun part,” Ibuki leaned on her brother, resting her head on his shoulder as they got comfortable on his couch, “Swiping! Sometimes Ibuki just lays in bed for HOURS swiping for no reason.”

“Left is for those I do not wish to court, correct?”

“Yeah yeah and right is for people you’re interested in!”

Gundham and Ibuki spent a couple minutes reading profiles and swiping left on countless people who were obviously not good enough for Gundham— at least, that’s how Ibuki put it.

And then... they found her.

“Wait wait wait stop!!” Gundham’s eyes widened as his thumb froze over the phone, ceasing the swiping auto-pilot as Ibuki got his attention, “Look at HER!”

On screen was a photo of a beautiful blonde girl with piercing blue eyes, a dark plum lipstick adorning her pale face, backdropped by a wall of preserved flowers and sheer black curtains

Her profile read:

Sonia, 21

(She/Her, Bi) Come perform sacrifices under the full moon with me

Just kidding ... unless...

Gundham scrolled through the rest of her photos. She’s too good to be true. There’s a photo of her looking up from a book in a coffee shop with an adorable smile. There’s a selfie where a rose quartz pendant shines between her collarbones. She has high quality photos of her posing with friends in a field of wheat. She’s gorgeous.

“Gundham, if you don’t swipe right I don’t know who you are anymore,” Ibuki told him

So he did just that.

And his heart quickened its beat when the screen suddenly changed.

It’s a match!

“Oh my gawd, Gundham YES you gotta send her a message!” Ibuki giddily encouraged him

“What would I tell her?”

“That she’s really pretty and you want to get to know her or something!”

His phone vibrated in his palm. She messaged first.

“You are the most interesting person I have seen on tinder... probably ever! Tell me about yourself!”

“Good gods; what do I say?”

“Dude literally just talk about yourself.”

“You do not understand how difficult that is, Ibuki.”

“Okay, then ask her what she wants to know,” Ibuki suggested

“I thank you for your kind words. What do you wish to know?”

“Tell me about your Four Dark Devas of Destruction 🖤 They seem like perfect companions”

“Okay; she’s passing Ibuki’s tests so far,” Ibuki muttered, not even trying to hide that she was reading over his shoulder

“Yes, my Devas are simply bound to the bodies of what foolish mortals call ‘hamsters’, as their true forms can not be contained on this plane. They are loyal minions, and you are correct, worthy companions.”

And then he quickly added

“You appear to be as intelligent as you are beautiful. I admire it.”

Gundham felt his face heat up and his sister smacked his shoulder and gasped. “Look at you! Smooth as ice!”

“I am simply making an observation,” he attempted to defend himself

His phone vibrated again, and he quickly checked to see Sonia’s newest message

“Aw thank you 🖤 I know we have not been communicating for very long, but I sense the same about you. I can feel it in my guts!”

“Oh, she’s divine,” he whispered, clutching his hand to his mouth in awe

“Gundham, you’ve had tinder for less than a day and Ibuki thinks you’ve met the girl of your dreams. It’s like a tinder speedrun!” Ibuki laughed and then gasped, “Give her your number! Do it do it do it do it do it!”

And then his phone vibrated once more.

“I do not normally move this quickly to communicate off tinder, but I receive messages faster this way, and I must learn more about you: the fascinating and handsome man with his own minions 🖤”

She gave him her phone number.

If you enjoy my writing, you can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi if you’re able! 💛 Fics will always be free; this is just an additional way to support me.

#danganronpa #danganronpa fanfiction #super danganronpa 2 #gundham tanaka #sonia x gundham #danganronpa gundham #sdr2 gundham #sonia nevermind #sdr2 sonia #danganronpa sonia #gundham x sonia #sondham #sondam #danganronpa fic #danganronpa fanfic #sdr2 #sdr2 fanfic #ibuki mioda

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koskareevesismyqueen · 4 years ago

Text

Echo’s Girl, Part I

Pairing: Echo x f!reader

Description: Becoming clone trooper Echo’s girl

AO3 link here

Link to the optional explicit part coming soon

Rating: teen

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: none

Author’s note: This is more of a set up chapter for reader and Echo’s relationship. I will be posting an optional chapter for 18+ audiences in the next couple of days (please please please only engage if you are over 18 and prepared to read NSFW content). There will be 4 parts and we’ll see Echo next as an ARC Trooper! I hope you enjoy this part – if you do please consider reblogging it to share it with other people.

Part I – Clone Trooper

Your first fieldwork assignment. You were nervous, so kriffing nervous. You knew exactly what you had to do but somehow, being dropped off at the Grand Army of the Republic’s barracks, surrounded by soldiers and weapons and war ships made it all the more terrifying. You weren’t quite sure if you were built to be here. No, you knew you weren’t built to be here. You were a scientist and that’s where you were comfortable, in a lab or in the field conducting research. But with the Republic’s funding your best option was getting transport via the GAR, so here you were. You make your way off the taxi speeder, nervously playing with the straps on your bag as a soldier jogs his way towards you. You gulp. This was getting scarier and scarier by the second. How were you supposed to last on a warship for a week?

“Doctor?” He asks as he steps toward you.

“Uh, not yet but yes,” you say and his brow furrows in confusion, but he holds his hand out to take your bag anyway.

“Captain Rex,” he says with a shy smile, “I’ll take you to meet the rest of the boys. We’ll all be around for the next week until you’ve left us for your mission, so it’ll be good for you to have a few friendly faces.”

You nod and follow along, trailing behind him like a lost puppy, completely and utterly out of your depth but trying hard to stay afloat. He takes you over to a group of soldiers who are milling about, clearly enjoying a few moments of peace.

“Men, I’d like to introduce you to our guest. She’ll be staying with us for the next week until we drop her off for her mission. She’s no soldier so if anyone wants to accompany her, show her around so she can get used to being here…”

One of the soldiers steps forward, white armour with the signature blue decals that match the rest of the men, then his own unique handprint that adorns his chest. He reaches up and takes his helmet off and in that moment your heart stops. Yeah, every single man here looks exactly the same. But there’s something about him. You take a deep breath and smile as all the other men and Rex melt away. You hold out your hand to introduce yourself and he smiles sweetly in return.

“I’m Echo. We’ll load up onto the ship, get your stuff in your room and then once we’re in hyperspace I’ll give you the grand tour.” You follow him, suddenly feeling a little less lost and like you’ve found a little piece of home.

♡

You relax a little more once the ship has lurched into hyperspace. You’re no stranger to space travel but it still makes you feel a little queasy each time. Now you’re comfortably travelling and Echo’s grand tour has started you feel like you can semi settle for the next week at least. If you had to live this life for much longer you don’t think you’d cope, but it’s okay for now. Echo shows you the important spots like medical areas, the canteen, and transports. He even takes the time to show you a few quieter spots where you can get a little peace and quiet if you need it. For a few moments you stand in each spot drinking in the silence and the shades of blue that hyperspace creates, thinking about how peaceful the silence is with Echo. At one point, you tilt your gaze to look up at him and the way the blue falls over his features. He moves his gaze to meet yours and for a moment you stop breathing, worried your little crush was coming on too strong. But he just smiles that sweet, warm smile and gently takes your hand to pull you towards your next destination. He lets go of it as soon as you’re heading the right way, but you feel the lingering sensation of his touch on your palm and will him to hold your hand again.

Kriff, you think to yourself, suddenly disgusted that you weren’t acting like a lost puppy but a love sick one, you’d only been away from normal human contact for a few hours and you were already acting like this?

“That’s pretty much everything. We don’t have much to do during travel time apart from prepping for the next mission and we generally have to stay out of the cafeteria unless it’s our designated time to eat, but I guess I could chat with the service droids and see if you get special exemptions?”

“Yeah, that would be great. I need caf to keep me fuelled while I keep sorting through literature,” you say with a small chuckle as you hold up the data pad.

“So, what’s your research about?” Echo asks as you head back towards the cafeteria.

“I’m monitoring purrgil movements. We know…not a lot about them and now with the war on and more ship movement we need to predict their movements to ensure safety. I’m trying to better understand them, breeding patterns and movements so we can avoid them during ship movements.”

“Oh, so, I guess you’re working to protect the clones in a roundabout way?”

“Yeah, I guess so. I’ve never thought about it that way before. I just think of it that I’m protecting the purrgils too. Most people just think of them as a nuisance but they’re beautiful creatures which have been massively looked down upon. It’s sad, and I hope my work can change people’s opinions.”

You walk into the cafeteria and the white walls are a stark contrast to the grey of the rest of the ship.

“Wait here,” Echo says, motioning to an empty table, “I’ll go and chat to the droid.” Echo jogs off and you can’t help but admire him for a second before turning your attention to your data pad. You flick through your schedule, moving around what work you had planned for when to make your schedule for the next week a little more…hyperspace doable. The soft sound of two plastic mugs clinking off the table pulls your attention away from your work and instead to Echo’s warm smile.

“Droid says you can come in whenever. Even gave us hot cocoa now to seal the deal,” he smiles triumphantly as your eyes light up.

You take the mug in your hands, cradling it as you allow the heat to rise through you, then take a deep sip. It’s the kind of rubbish hot cocoa you had on camping trips when you were younger. It’s good.

“Mmmmmm,” you say between sips, “this is amazing. If I ever need something doing while I’m here, I’m coming to you Echo. Your negotiation skills are supreme.”

He lets out a soft chuckle which fills you with a warmth that the hot cocoa never could, and the two of you launch into easy conversation. You tell Echo more about your research and how you got into it, your life on Coruscant and everything that goes with it. He tells you about life as a clone trooper, growing up on Kamino and his brothers. The time passes fast and your schedule for starting up on work goes through the window but you don’t mind at all.

“Hey, Echo,” another clone trooper says as he jogs up to your table. He’s similar looking to Echo of course, but with a tattoo of the number 5 on his temple and facial hair on his chin. You briefly remember seeing him near Echo at the start of the day, although you can’t remember who Rex introduced him as, and assume the two are close.

“Hey, ner vod,” he quickly introduces his brother as Fives.

“We’re going to the onboard 79s tonight,” Fives turns his gaze to you, “you’re welcome to come, save you from being bored to death by this one all night,” he punches Echo in the process, and Echo glowers back at him.

“Yeah, sounds good. Any excuse to get away from doing work anyway.” Not that you had managed to do more than rearrange your schedule so far, which had been pointless anyway as you had ended up spending all afternoon with Echo instead.

“Okay, well we were going to head down in a couple of hours so I’ll see you then. Echo, we’re going to do some training to kill time. You in?”

Echo looks at you uncertainly.

“It’s fine, I should probably get a little work in and take a shower first anyway.”

“Can you remember where you’re going?”

“Yeah, roughly. I’ll find my way.”

“Okay, well as long as you’re still not wondering around the ship lost I’ll come grab you at 1900.”

You watch Echo go with Fives, a small smile creeping across your lips and a giddy feeling searing through your veins.

♡

You’re on fieldwork, you didn’t exactly plan to bring any nice clothes. You have a couple of pairs of leggings which at least flatter your figure and a couple of cropped vest tops that you usually sleep in. When you pair them together you don’t exactly look party ready, but you decide that you look good enough for whatever an onboard bar is like for clone troopers. You pull your hair out of its braids and put on the very small amount of makeup you packed. You decide, all in all you look good. But the nerves are eating you alive right now. Partly at not wanting to make a fool of yourself, but also the fear that you were maybe misreading Echo and making a fool of yourself that way. You shake your head to clear the negative thoughts, then jump at the knock on your door.

You step out and Echo is waiting for you, playing with his gloves and you hope, for a brief second, that he feels as nervous as you.

“You look amazing,” he says, his voice wobbling slightly. He had to be nervous, had to be.

You smile back, “so, this onboard bar?”

“Oh, it’s not much,” he says with a small laugh, “just a corner that was quiet enough for us to find a new use for it. We thought it’d get shut down, but I guess they decided a little down time was good for us.”

And he’s right. When you arrived at the ‘bar’ it’s not a lot at all. A dark space strung with whatever artificial lights had been found around, upturned boxes and storage containers. The bar itself was only obvious because of the sheer number of troopers milled around it. You suddenly feel a little self-conscious, the only female there, and almost as if he can sense it Echo protectively wraps his arm around you. The attention of the gazes pinning you immediately shift and you feel instantly better. Granted, it shouldn’t take a man’s protection to make you feel safe but with Echo it felt too good to deny. He guides you over to the makeshift table where Fives and a few of the other guys from this morning are sat.

“So, how did you manage to put up with this one all day?”

You let out a soft chuckle, “I grew up with 5 sisters, believe me I can put up with a lot.” But you lean back a little and give Echo a soft nudge, resulting in him giving you an affectionate smile. The night goes on and it’s incredibly easy with the boys, especially with Echo guiding you through in moments where you feel unsure. It’s obvious how close they all are, especially Echo and Fives who you now know grew up together. Rex makes a brief appearance although you get the impression that it’s more to keep up appearances and morale than actually wanting to be there. You can’t help but feel that he’s a little preoccupied, although you can’t blame him either.

You’re there for a few hours before you decide to call it a night. After all, you do have work to do at some point and you had spent a whole day away from it. Not wasted, because spending the day with Echo had been fun. But it was still time away from work that you couldn’t afford in the long run.

You turn to Echo, gently squeezing his arm to get his attention.

“You okay?” He asks, the liquid courage clearly showing as he takes your hand and rubs his thumb over your knuckles.

“Yeah, I was thinking of heading off soon. I have a bunch of work to catch up on tomorrow so I should probably wake up early.”

“Sure, I’ll walk you back.”

“Oh, it’s fine Echo. You stay here, I can find my way back.”

But he’s clearly made his mind up because he links in fingers in yours as he stands up, so you follow.

“Bye guys, it was nice getting to know you all tonight!” You call out as they say they’re goodbyes (and a few whistles in reaction to your’s and Echo’s entwined fingers).

You walk in peaceful silence back to your room, although you can tell that Echo is gearing up to say something. You stop when you reach you door, gently squeezing Echo’s fingers as an almost goodbye. But instead, he takes your other hand in his so the two of you are facing each other.

“I, uh. I just wanted to say that I really enjoyed spending time with you today. It’s nice to have a break away from the guys sometimes. And, I really like, uh, you. Specifically.” You smile at Echo’s words, his nerves feeling you with the sweetest feeling. Knowing that he clearly won’t make the move himself, you pull your hands away from his and place them on his cheeks, pulling the two of you together and your lips to lock. For a second, he pauses, clearly a little taken back. But then he gently places his hands on your waist pulling you into him and you deepen the kiss, fireworks exploding through your veins with ecstasy. After a few moments you pull away, willing your legs to keep working and not turn to jelly.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Echo,” you say before placing a final soft kiss on his cheek and escaping into your room.

♡♡♡♡♡

#echo #clone trooper echo #arc trooper echo #arc trooper echo x reader #echo x f!reader #bad batch #the bad batch #the clone wars #bad batch x reader

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joaquinwhorres · 5 years ago

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alone together (Diego Hargreeves x Reader)

SUMMARY ››››› Dating is hard. But it's even harder to watch the person you love dating other people.

REQUEST ››››› 11 +13 with Diego? (11. Telling them a dumb joke just to see their smile. 13. Playing your fingers through their hair while sitting next to them on the couch.)

WORD COUNT ››››› 2,261

WARNINGS ››››› dirty jokes

A/N ››››› This idea popped into my head right as I was going to sleep the other night, and it just kind of poured out. I always feel a bit guilty when I turn love story requests into something a bit angsty, soooo I added some fluffy moments in here as well. And let me just say, I love their dynamic. Also I *slightly* changed 13.

They've been close since the Academy. Not the Umbrella shit, the police academy--which was, pretty much, more of the same shit. Still had to dress up in a dapper little uniform and take orders from superiors who hardly deserved the title. He spent his childhood training to take down the bad guys and some thirty year old asshole who got his badge five years ago and aced some written test knew better than him? Bullshit.

She was one of the few people who put up with him at the time. Everyone else talked their shit and played the stupid game, as if blowing smoke up the instructors' ass would save them in the field. She was the only one who listened. Who took his tips on how to disarm over the trainers. Who questioned rules that would cost lives. Who put him in his place and drew lines between Number 2 and Diego Hargreeves he didn't know existed.

So yeah, he's been in love with her for a while.

Which is why, when she calls asking him to come over, he turns off the police scanner, takes off the mask, and gets in his car.

When she opens the door to her apartment, he can't help the small smile that quirks at the corner of his lips. She's so goddamn beautiful even in her leggings and Synchronicity baseball tee he got her as a joke when she graduated the academy. She had laughed so hard she cried and then serenaded him with "Roxanne". It was the wrong album, but he couldn't have given less of a shit.

She, Sting, and the other two bastards are looking at him expectantly, so he quirks an eyebrow hoping that it turns his smile into more of a smirk. "You gonna let me in, or did you just want to show me your front door?"

She gives a mirthless pity laugh to tell him how not funny he is. "I was hoping you were the pizza guy."

"Sorry to disappoint," he shakes his head, and the smile situation is getting out of control.

"Not sorrier than I am," she says, heaving a long suffering sigh as she steps aside to let him inside. He doesn't even make it past her before she breaks and offers him a smile.

Diego snorts and turns towards what might as well be his second home. Or first. Hell, he's here more than he's ever in his shitty room at the boxing gym. The TV is on, blankets pooled in a semicircle on the couch, a bottle of wine and half empty glass in front of the spot. Her purse and keys sit on the table, heels kicked off under a chair. Other than that, the place is pristine as usual.

He doesn't like the way this scene looks.

"Thought you had a date tonight," he remarks, heading into the kitchen to get himself a wine glass. Behind him, the door clicks shut and her bare feet patter lightly against the floor.

"There was a miscommunication."

It's the way her voice is too light-- each word is carefully chosen. How under the chair's legs one shoe is on its side while the other is still standing. The fact that she's drinking red wine instead of those stupid Whiteclaws.

"He didn't show." Diego turns to her as he says this, watching to see the words reach her. When they do, her eyes shoot down to the ground and she gives a small shake of her head.

"No." Her voice is soft and her eyes run over the scratch marks on the wooden floor from when she had him rearranging the furniture to make her new coffee table "aesthetically fit". It's threelong seconds before she speaks again. "He uh--meant to meet up with someone else."

Anger shoots through him, burning and vicious and fuck wine as a solution. Diego strides forward, heading to the front door, when she reaches out a hand to stop him. "Don't."

He looks at her and tries to arrange his features into some semblance of innocent concern. "I'm just going to my car to get a bottle of whiskey I keep there." He has to pry his gaze away from hers because the look she's giving him makes his heart feel like it's going to implode. She looks at him as if she sees him. She's the only person who's ever given him that look.

"Diego. Do not go interrupt his date to pick a fight."

"Fuck," he curses under his breath because she sees right through the lie. He turns back to her, mouth open to deny the accusation when her look intensifies.

"I know you Diego Hargreeves."

No one has ever told him they love him.

But that sounds pretty damn close.

She releases his arm because she knows that she's won or maybe she has some misplaced faith in his self-control. "I really appreciate that you want to kill him. Really, really appreciate it. But I don't need you going to jail on assault charges. I need you here, drinking wine and watching TV with me. Unless you actually have that whiskey."

He shakes his head, thankful he doesn't have to respond because the fact that she needs him leaves him just about breathless.

This time she curses under her breath, a soft damn. "You're such a tease," she comments, heading back to the couch and he goes back to get a wine glass from the cabinet.

“It's only for you, baby,” he calls over his shoulder.

They’re two bottles of wine deep and it’s only 11 o’clock. She had apparently been joking about the pizza guy, much to Diego’s disappointment. When he voiced as much, her eyes got big and bright, and she grabbed his face in her hands. “Then let’s order a fucking pizza.”

And then she slapped him, one cheek after the other and went to get her cell phone.

They’re still waiting on the pizza.

But his attention has been less on the grumbling in his stomach and more on the fact that y/n hasn't laughed once in the last forty minutes. She hasn't so much as cracked a smile. Not even when Esther stabs her hand in front of Hank. In fact, since the phone call for pizza she's hardly even said a word, and he can see what she's doing. She's torturing herself. Her attention isn't on Barry, it's on the asshole she left at whatever bar to go on a date with someone who wasn't her.

"Hey," he says, and she turns to look at him, eyebrows raised. At least she isn't that far down the rabbit hole. That's good. He's been there enough times to know how hard it is to pull yourself out of the cycle. To silence out the memories of voices you shouldn't give two shits about anymore and focus on what's in front of you. "How did Burger King get Dairy Queen pregnant?"

Her nose wrinkle and brow creases in confusion, and she stares at him like he's clinically insane. "What?"

"Come on," he gestures, turning towards her so that their knees brush together. "How'd the Burger King get Dairy Queen pregnant?"

She seems to catch on then, her face more skeptical than concerned for his sanity. "How?"

"He forgot to wrap his whopper."

She just shakes her head, turning back to the TV. He wouldn't be Number 2 if he gave up now. "What should you do if you come across an elephant?"

"What?" her voice is flat and unamused, but it's not the same tone she gives him when she's done with his bullshit.

"Apologize and wipe it off."

She cracks then, her lips fighting against her will to keep a straight face as the corner of her mouth twitches up into a smile. A small burst of air exhales through her nose. It's not a laugh, and it's not a smile, but it's a start.

""What's the difference between 'Oooh!' and 'Aaah!'?"

"Oh no--"

"About three inches."

She bursts with laughter then, slapping a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles. Her eyes crinkle in the corner, as she looks at him, shaking her head. He's gotten what he wanted, but what's one more joke?

"What goes in hard and dry and comes out wet and soft?"

She almost chokes on the wine she's sipping to help her stop laughing. "Diego!"

"Chewing gum. Why, what were you thinking?"

"Fuck you," she says, pointing a finger at him, but she's laughing, so he starts laughing too. She sets her wine glass back down in front of her and crawls all the way on the couch, shuffling closer to him so she can beat his arm with both of her fists.

"It's a good joke," he protests, laughing harder as she continues her assault.

"It's so not a good joke!" she argues back, tears streaming down from her eyes. But they're from laughter rather than what's going on in her head, so he'll take it. His arm is saved from the punching by a knock at the door. Naturally she moves to get up, but he shakes his head, gently pushing her back down into the couch and reaching into his back pocket to pull out his wallet.

The guy takes in his tactical outfit with a raised eyebrow, but doesn't say anything about it. Diego feels a bit sorry that he took off his knives. Scaring the pizza guy was always mildly entertaining for himself. Instead he passes along the money with a "Thanks man," and returns to Y/N who has settled back into her spot.

She gives him a warning look and holds up a finger at him again. "No jokes during the pizza."

"What?" It's his turn to look at her like she's crazy.

"I'll choke and die, and you don't want that on your conscience--and don't turn that into another joke," she adds quickly, preventing him from using the innuendo before he can even find it in the sentence.

"Fine," he says, sinking into his seat and putting the box of pizza on the coffee table. "No jokes. Just pizza."

She narrows her eyes suspiciously at him even as she reaches forward to pull out a slice. She doesn't break her gaze until she's swallowed and he bites into his own piece. There's a few moments of quiet between them, but it feels better than it did before the pizza. There's something lighter in the air between them, and he hopes she feels it too.

"Thank you," she says, suddenly.

It takes him a second and a quick glance around the apartment to realize that she means the pizza. He scoffs and waves the thanks off.

"No, Diego, seriously. Thank you. For coming over," she sighs. "I needed this."

"I'm always here for you," he said, nudging her with his shoulder. "You know that. Can't get rid of me even if you tried."

She offers a small smile, and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, wincing as she notices the pizza grease on her finger tips. Diego shouldn't be watching her this closely. He should focus on his pizza like a normal person. But he can't take his eyes off her. How she seems just a bit slower, just a bit quieter today. She runs her fingers over a napkin leaving a trail of yellow grease. "Do you wanna hear something sad?" she asks, her voice small.

"When you say it like that, how could I say no?" It was supposed to be a joke, but his voice is too soft.

She doesn't look at him, instead keeping her eyes fixated on the used napkin.

"This isn't the first time that's happened. It's not even the first time that's happened this month."

He wants to kill. He wants to wage a war against the boys on Tinder or Bumble or the force or wherever it is she's finding these assholes. But she needs him here. She told him she needs him.

"They're idiots," he says. "Complete fucking morons."

"Statistics would suggest otherwise," she shook her head, looking back up at the tv, frozen on a close up of Bill Hader's face. "I mean...guy after guy, I'm always the one getting broken up with or ghosted. Is there something I'm not seeing? Seriously, Diego, is there something wrong with me?" She looks at him then, eyes shining and heartbreaking in the earnestness of the question.

"There's not a single fucking thing wrong with you," he says quickly wiping his own hands off so he can pull her in close. She wraps her arms around his middle, leaning her forehead into the crook of his neck. He can feel her breath against his skin. Feel her heartbeat. He holds her even tighter.

"I'm going to put that in my bio from now on. Not a single fucking thing wrong with me. Verified by Diego Hargreeves." She gives a single quiet laugh at her own joke, and Diego smiles, running his fingers through her hair. He isn't sure if it's as calming to her as it is to him, but her head feels a bit heavier as she relaxes more into him.

“I don’t know. I think I’m just done with this all. Maybe I’ll like being alone," she sighs, wiggling a little bit closer. "With you of course. We can be alone together.”

'Yeah," his smile is bigger now, and he can feel her smiling against him too. “Yeah, we can do that.”

#diego hargreeves x reader #number 2 x reader #tua #tua fic #diego hargreeves imagine #diego hargreeves fic #tua imagine #number 2 fic #number 2 imagine #umbrella academy #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy fanfiction #tua fanfiction #diego hargreeves fanfiction

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popcrone818 · 4 years ago

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Spitfire - sweet pea x reader

Part two

Here is part two to spitfire, if you like it please don’t forget to comment on it. I love hearing feedback. If anyone wants to help out and beta my work I would love that too. Shoot me a message or ask with anything. I’m also thinking of creating a tag list so if you want to be on that then let me know.

Also gif not mine let me know if you know who’s it is

Sweet Pea POV

I watched as she walked up on stage once the music started, I couldn’t help but keep my eyes on her as she discarded her shirt looking around for something. Her eyes found mine as she tossed her shirt and I brought my beer up to my lips as she got rid of her jeans leaving her in a red lace lingerie set. My eyes widened at the sight and she never took her eyes off me. I could feel the heat travelling to my dick as she finished up and took off to the side of the stage where I could see Toni was waiting for her. Fangs and I made our way over to the two girls as Rory pulled her jeans up her legs. I took her new jacket off Toni and walked over to her. I placed the leather on her shoulders and she pushed her arms through the sleeves, I gathered up her red hair and pulled it gently out of her collar and rested it over her left shoulder before I rested both of my hands on her shoulders.

“You’re officially a serpent now. How do you think your brothers going to react once he finds out?” I lent down to whisper in her ear. I felt her tense up under my palms.

“I guess he’ll just never find out then.” She shrugged and I squeezed her shoulders gently before sitting down at the bar and looking at Toni for a drink.

“You’re brother is going to kill you Rory.” I heard Jones say from beside me. I noticed out of the corner of my eye he had taken my place behind Rory gently squeezing her shoulders. I felt my jaw clench slightly as she shrugged and took a swig of her beer.

“Honestly I think he needs to get his head out of his ass. You guys are actually really cool and I’m glad I get to call you my friends now too. Let him kill me he wouldn’t he loves me too much.”I felt something warm inside me but quickly shut it down and forgot about it as the door to the wyrm was thrown open I didn’t Bohr looking behind me as the intruders made their way up to the bar and stopped just short of Rory and I being at the end.

“Aurora! We’re going home now!” I heard the Northsider yell as I saw Rory stand up to face her brother before taking another sip of beer.

“Um, no thanks, I’m good here.” I watched as she turned her back on him and he stood taller standing over her trying to regain control of the situation and ultimately Rory. I stood up next to her slightly closer than was probably necessary as one of the other bulldogs walked up beside Red. I let her hand gently rest on my own as she placed her body in front of mine.

“You’re one of them now? A serpent?” Red asked squinting his eyes in his sisters direction looking down at her. My body stiffened and I took a small step closer, my lower stomach now in contact with her back. I felt my fists clench beside me. My anger at the disrespect for his sister settling in my stomach.

“Yes now please leave before you make a fool of yourself even more than your doing now!” She pointed to the door and Red followed her finger. I felt her hand on my bicep as she almost gave me whiplash with her strength pulling me back to the bar.

“You know, I’d still bang you Andrew’s even if you are just another serpent slut.” I heard one of the bulldogs whisper in her ear, closest to me, he seemed to be taunting her and me, knowing he would get a rise out me by saying that. I stood up and let my fist connect with the bulldogs jaw. I was not about to let him just walk all over her like that my protective instincts kicking in at the way Rory had tensed up at his words. Soon enough the bulldog landed a punch on my left cheek but I was quick with another blow to his pretty little face. I felt Jones pull me off the bulldog with Red doing the same to him.

“You’ve just made a big mistake Rory.” Red yelled as he dragged the bulldogs out of the wyrm. I turned myself back to my beer taking a swig to calm myself down in an effort to not snap again. I could taste a slight metallic flavour to the beer and and I brought my hand up to observe the damage on my lip.

“You didn’t need to do that Sweet Pea, I can handle Reggie.” She told me as she placed a small hand on my left cheek, I winced slightly, surely there would be a bruise there, she was gentle as she touched my face taking in the wince at the initial contact o her cold hands. I felt as all of my anger washed away with one simple small touch from one small girl.

“What’s serpent law number 1 Rory?” I held her gaze as I asked her the question.

“No serpent stands alone.” She recited as I nodded and turned my head away from her touch not liking how weak I felt under her fingers, but also not hating the way my skin tingled from her fingers, I would not let some Northsider have this effect on me. “I better go have a screaming match with my brother, I’ll see you guys later.” Toni nodded at her and I watched as she made her way out of the wyrm. I felt a slap to the back of my head.

“What was all that dude?” I heard Fangs ask from beside me. I shrugged at him.

“No women should be treated like that, serpent or not.” I got Toni to pass me another beer. “Round of pool before we head off too?” I asked him. He nodded and Toni followed us over to the pool tables. As I racked up the balls Toni turned her head to me. A questioning look hiding behind her brown eyes.

“You like her don’t you?” I scoffed as I took my shot.

“I barely like you two.” The game went smoothly and as usual Fangs got his ass handed to him and he pushed $20 into my chest. He’ll never learn.

“You would never let anyone touch you like she did tonight, not even to patch you up.” Toni just wouldn’t drop it. I groaned as Fangs put away the cue’s and balls.

“Just drop it okay she’s an Andrew’s anyway.” I shrugged and walked out of the wyrm up to my bike. I decided against a helmet and turned the key hearing the engine roar to life before I sped off in the direction of the Northside. She should be home by now, I just wanted to make sure she was safe, that’s what I kept telling myself as I turned down her street. I slowed down almost stopping outside her house and noticed the living room light on, I could faintly here yelling over the loud sound of my engine and I knew she was home safe. The curtains by the door shifted so I took off again revving the engine slightly before changing gears and heading back to sunnyside trailer park.

Aurora POV

“She’s a serpent now dad!” I heard Archie telling dad as soon as I walked in the door, my serpent jacket hanging from my elbow as it got a touch warm on the walk home.

“That better be you Aurora and you better have a damn good reason for joining the serpents!” I heard my dad yell as I tried to sneak my way into my bedroom.

“Yeah dad, its me.” I purposely didn’t answer the question about being a serpent.

“How did FP allow you to become a serpent?” My dad questioned as I walked into the kitchen.

“FP doesn’t know, some guy named Tall Boy initiated me. With the help of a serpent Archie’s age. It’s fine dad I’d rather be protected than not with the black hood business going on.” I crossed my arms over my chest. Placing my jacket over the back of the couch.

“You can’t be a serpent Rory! They came to our house to fight me!” Archie yelled at me getting closer.

“That’s because you waved a gun in Sweet Pea’s face! Yes I know exactly what happened and I also know that you threw the first punch, so don’t even try to tell me it was their fault or that they’re thugs because as far as I’m aware you are at fault right now not us.” I crossed my arms over my chest. Archie’s ja dropped a I mentioned us and not just the serpents. I heard a soft rumble of an engine pass by the house. Archie made his way over to the front window by the door and peaked his head out. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I threw my arms out beside me.

“Language young lady!” My dad yelled over me and Archie.

“You think they’re going to come back for round 2. Believe it or not but family members of serpents are actually protected too. So unless I specifically tell them not to protect you Sweet Pea cannot touch you again. And believe me, right now I’m this fucking close.”

“Aurora!”

“Sorry dad, I just can’t believe Archie right now.”

“I’m not too thrilled about you being a serpent either Aurora. But if you think this is going to protect you and us from the black hood I’m willing to make an exception.” Dad shrugged which only angered Archie even further.

“Dad! She’s a serpent, Jughead is a serpent, your best friend is a serpent and he is currently behind bars. Don’t you think she would be safer without them?” Archie raised his arms before laying them down by his sides.

“Look, FP is an adult, he chose them when he was her age. Jughead is just following in his fathers footsteps for protection just like Rory. Once FP gets out he can decide if she stays or goes. As for you Rory, I want you to go and tell FP about this little development tomorrow. See what your godfather has to say about all of this. Because I sure as hell cannot deal with the two of you right now, so I’m going to bed.” With a wave of his hand dad stomped his way up the stairs. Archie and I stayed still glaring at each other until the slam of a door broke us out of it.

“I seriously can’t believe you did this Rory, they’re bad people and now you have ruined your life, for what? A guy? Sweet Pea was his name? You’ve got to be-,” my hand collided with the side of his face.

“Don’t you dare even think I did this for a guy. Because in the last two days the serpents have actually been there for me more than you have since dad got shot. Ive made three really good friends and Jug and I are closer than ever before. Don’t even think you know what is going on in my life. You only care about yourself. And for the record I don’t like Sweet Pea as anything more than a friend.”

“Aurora! He’s the one that did Jughead’s initiation, you saw what he looked like afterwards.” Archie was trying to get me to turn against them.

“Yes I was there. I watched Sweet Pea with his brass knuckles get Jug in the side of the face, also I was the one to clean him up after and I went to the Whyte with him to get his jacket, where Sweet Pea was an asshole to me and I never back down you know that. Which is how I got to where I am now, but I couldn’t be happier Archie. So please for once try to be my brother instead of an asshole.” With that I turned away grabbing my jacket and headed upstairs to my bedroom slamming the door before I flopped face down on my bed. My phone vibrated with a message as I rolled over to look at the ceiling. I groaned before taking it out to check it.

Sweet Pea: hope you got home safe, also hope you didn’t get your ass handed to you by red.

I laughed silently at him being a dork. He wont even acknowledge that Archie is my brother. I’m pretty sure his brain would spontaneously combust.

Me: yes I’m home safe. I put him in his place don’t worry about me, I’m tough 🤯

Shortly after I hit send I got another message from Jug this time.

Juggie: did Archie and your dad kill you?

Me: dad wasn’t happy at first but then I mentioned how family members are protected too and he seemed to ease out of it. But I’m this close to letting Sweet Pea off his leash to go after Archie again. I’m fucking over it all. All the Northside, Southside bullshit. Juggie what do I do?

Juggie: you do nothing, we got your back and I’m sure Sweet Pea would kill anyone that gave you shit. He’s loyal like that.

Me: and another thing why does Sweet Pea keep coming up in conversations I have? Archie accused me of sleeping with him. Ive only known him like two days.

Juggie: you brought him up in this convo Rory, don’t try blame me this time, I think you’ve got a crush!

Me: I DO NOT HAVE A CRUSH! He’s just a good friend now after he got over the fact that I’m a northsider.

Juggie: sure whatever you reckon. Anyway tomorrow after school meet me at pops we gotta talk.

Me: sure thing I’ll see you then. Goodnight x

Juggie: goodnight x

I changed out of my clothing for the day and into my pyjama shirt before pulling the covers back on my bed and climbing in. Before I could close my eyes my phone vibrated against the side table.

Sweet Pea: sure you’re tough, anyway just wanted to make sure your got home okay from the wyrm and to say goodnight.

Me: goodnight Sweet Pea.

I fell asleep thinking about a certain tall dark and handsome serpent that night.

A couple of months after my initiation I had gotten wind that Mayor McCoy was raiding Southside high and anyone with a jacket was going down. I ran with Jughead into the school only to see two deputies push Sweet Pea into a row of lockers. Toni not far from him with only one deputy on her. I locked eyes with Sweet Pea before he mouthed ‘run’ to me. I turned around and followed Jug down the steps of Southside high. We took off running in the direction of Northside, more specifically to my house where he and I could regroup and discuss what we just saw and what we do about it now.

“What the fuck just happened?” I asked Jug as I made us both some coffee.

“Mantle said he got JJ from a serpent for Veronica’s party the other night when Cheryl was almost raped by some guy Veronica knew in New York. So the serpents and Southside high were raided, I don’t know how long they’re going to be locked up for though.” Jug put his head in his hands and groaned, this was just one big mess.

“I’m going to fucking kill Reggie!” I slammed my hand down on the counter before leaning closer to Jughead. “I know for a fact it was a Ghoulie who sold that to him.” He nodded with me. The rest of the night Jug and I spent watching movies and trying to not think about our friends that had just been locked up.

Jug couldn’t go to school the next day as Southside high was still being raided before the serpents would be released so I told him he could stay at mine, Archie and dad wouldn’t mind so I was on my way to school, jacket hanging off my shoulders when Reggie Mantle decided to be a dick and come up to me at my locker.

“So your really one of them now? I thought you had standards, but I guess not.” He shrugged leaning on the locker beside mine, I ignored him as he lent down slightly to whisper in my ear. “I’d still fuck you, though I’m sure you been passed around the serpents enough.” I slammed my locker door shut before my fist connected to Reggie’s face. I heard a sickening crack and smiled triumphantly before turning around and walking away. “Just like that serpent toy of yours always so hot headed.” I heard him wheeze out through his broken nose. I took a deep calming breath before I stomped back over to Reggie.

“A) not my toy just a friend, and B) you’re the reason my friends are currently locked up. Get your head out of your ass Mantle, you know it was a Ghoulie who sold you the JJ, you just don’t like the serpents.” I flicked my hair in his face as he held his nose blood rushing out. I rushed into the nearest bathroom and ran my hand under some cold water. My knuckles were already starting to bruise up.

“Students of Riverdale High, this is your principal, emails have been sent out to your parents, effective immediately, Southside High will be shutdown. Students will be transferred to other schools in the district, including this one.” I heard the voice of principal Weatherbee come over the speakers, I silently did a small cheer as I wouldn’t be the only one in this school wearing a serpent jacket. Betty would be happy Jug is coming back. I was excited as I’m sure Sweet Pea, Fangs and Toni would all be coming here, the rest of the day I couldn’t focus too excited for my friends to be joining this school and I wouldn’t feel so alone anymore.

Juggie: did you hear Southside is being shut down?

Me: yeah heard he announcement this morning. I’m excited for you all to be here though. Have you heard anything about when they’re getting let out?

Juggie: yeah this afternoon they get out, want to join me in getting Toni, Fangs and Sweet Pea out?

Me: fuck yes I do, meet you at the station after school?

Juggie: 👍

I hopped in my car after school watching as Reggie sent me a death glare from his spot leaning against his precious Bella. Not long after I left school I joined Jughead at the station where Fangs, Sweet Pea and Toni were being uncuffed. I ran up and pulled Toni into a bone crushing hug which she returned. Fangs then mockingly held out his arms and I pulled him into me as Jug hugged Toni. My eyes swept over Sweet Pea who looked slightly uncomfortable at all the affection being thrown around and when I pulled away from Fangs I walked up to him.

“I’m glad your okay.” I told him before I felt his arms wrap around my shoulders. I wrapped my arms around his middle under his jacket and held him tightly. His head rested on mine as mine rested on his chest. His height is ridiculous. I caught Toni’s smirk as she watched us before we pulled away. “Who’s up for Pop’s?” I got a chorus of ‘hell yeah’ as Toni, Fangs and Sweet Pea climbed into my car and Jug climbed onto his bike. We sent the rest of the night laughing and sharing funny stories at a booth in pop’s before our worlds would be turned upside down tomorrow at school. We all knew that the Southside high students wouldn’t be be welcomed at Riverdale high and they were dreading it. I told them I would would walk through the doors with them and help Sweet Pea beat up anyone that would look at them differently. I had told them about Reggie this morning and how I handled it, Sweet Pea gave me a high five and Jughead just shook his head at us. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I looked around before pulling it out thinking it was Betty.

ToniT: you wanna be a bit more obvious?

I gave her a look and she typed out another message, three dots showing up on my screen.

ToniT: you and sweet pea are scarily alike, and you keep looking at him with heart eyes 😍😍.

Me: no I don’t. And I just don’t like being messed with. You saw the way I stood up to sweet pea when I first met him. Stop trying to play matchmaker, if you think we’re so alike wouldn’t that be a bad thing if we were together?

ToniT:mmm so you’ve thought bout you and him together? That’s so cute! No one has ever stood up to him the way you did that night. No one usually gets a chance before they’re on their ass.

Me:I’m done with this conversation.

I shook my head and pocketed my phone again.

“Who was that?” Jughead asked nudging me with his shoulder.

“Archie.” I lied taking a long sip of my coffee milkshake. I made eye contact with Toni before the night started to get away from us and we all decided to head off. Being the only Northsider I decided to walk home. Just as I left the parking lot of pop’s I heard a bike stop beside me.

“Want a ride trouble?” I turned to see Sweet Pea holding out his helmet. I grinned and nodded before taking his helmet and kicking my leg over the bike. He sped off down the road and I finally felt free. I had started the ride with a death grip on Sweet Pea but by the time we got to my house I held both arms out beside me and enjoyed the feeling of the air rushing through my body.

Sweet Pea POV

I watched as Rory pushed through the doors of Southside high just as I was pushed into a row of lockers by two deputies. Assholes couldn’t even take me one on one. I mouthed ‘run’ to her as a pair of handcuffs were tightened around my wrists. I let out a curse as they were tightened too tight and I watched and Topaz was also arrested beside me. I just hope Rory got out safe she was wearing her jacket, if she was caught wearing it in Southside high she would also be arrested. We spent the night locked up but I never saw Rory so hopefully she was going to be okay with Jones. Once we were let out we had been informed that Southside high was being shutdown. I knew Jones would be pissed but Fangs, Toni and I couldn’t be happier. I was finally going to be able to make something of myself and get out of this shit hole of a town. Jones and Rory came and joined us once we were uncuffed, she watched as the cuffs were taken off us, I never wanted her to see this I was hoping she would just see us tomorrow for our first day but I had been wrong. She threw herself at Toni. The two smaller girls holding each other close, Fangs held out his arms for Rory to run into. My fists clenched before I released them and flexed my hands. Lastly she came over to me, usually I’m not one who is big into hugs but watching the way both Toni and Fangs melted into her embrace made me crave the feeling of her arms wrapped around me.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” She told me looking down and fiddling with a ring on her right middle finger. I couldn’t take it anymore and I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and pulled her tightly to my chest, she wrapped her arms around my stomach and rested her head on my chest. I felt her small cold hands rest on my back just above my jeans. I felt my heart beating erratically in my chest and wondered if she could hear it as I placed my head on top of hers, inhaling he scent of vanilla and sweet pea, loving the way she felt in my arms. “Who’s up for Pop’s?” She asked as she pulled away from me. We all agreed and the three of us followed her out to her car as Jones got on his bike.

At Pop’s we all ended up laughing hysterically at some stories that the three of us told about our lives. Memories growing up with the two of them and the mischief we used to get up to. Rory had decided to tell us what had happened between her and Mantle that morning and how she handled it. I gave her a high five and a wide grin knowing she was capable of looking after herself regardless of being a northsider. I noticed her right hand had bruises on the knuckles and absentmindedly reached for her hand, our fingers brushed together gently before she pulled her hand off the table and rested it in her lap. I silently sighed and took another sip of my milkshake not making eye contact with anyone at the booth. I heard a vibration coming from Rory but didn’t bother to look up. More vibrations came as I heard her nails clicking away at the screen of her phone.

“Who was that?” I heard Jones ask her and my head shot up. Her eyes found mine before she replied to him.

“Archie.” She said and shrugged, I could seen it in her eyes she was lying but I thought I would leave it be for the time being. A few hours later we all decided it was getting late and we should all leave. I watched her as she started walking out of the parking lot and turned left instead of right like the rest of us would. I quickly climbed on my bike and took off after her, she stopped in the sidewalk before she realised it was me.

“Want a ride trouble?” I asked her chuckling to myself, I was one to talk, trouble always found me, and right now the trouble that found me was in the form of a Northside serpent. I held out my helmet to her not caring that I didn’t have one for myself now, she grinned and took it. I ensured that it was done up under her chin correctly and told her to hang on as I took off. I heard her shriek slightly as her grip on my waist tightened. I chuckled and sped a bit faster wanting her to hold me tighter. Halfway to her house I felt her arms let go of my body. I took a look in the side mirror and watched as her eyes closed and her arms spread out on either side of her body. She was breathtaking but I missed the feeling of her arms around my body. Once we got to her place she placed her hands on my shoulders and kicked her leg over my bike pushing her body off it using my shoulders as leverage. She handed me back my helmet and we just stared at each other not knowing what to say to the other.

“Want a ride in the morning?” I asked her clipping the helmet to the handlebars of my bike. She nodded and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. I think this is the most shy I’ve ever seen her, she usually always has something witty to say to me.

A week later and Weatherbee had given all serpents ‘uniforms’ to wear as he thought none of us would be able to afford Riverdale High appropriate clothing, and we all had to cover our tattoos. Which resulted in me having to wear a turtle neck. We were all sitting in the student lounge when Rory walked in and almost pissed herself laughing at Toni and I. I glared at har as she walked up to us. She sat herself down on my lap and poked my turtle neck covered tattoo.

“Loving the turtle neck there Sweet Pea.” She giggled again as she looked around us strangely. “Where’s Fangs?” She asked once she stopped giggling.

“He refused to wear the uniform so Weatherbee suspended him until he wears it.” I shrugged at her as Jones walks into the lounge. Toni got up to greet him as he hands Rory a large coffee cup.

“So its either conform or be cast out?” He exclaims angrily.

“Yeah.” Toni sighs as she takes a sip from her coffee cup. Rory follows suit also taking a sip of her new coffee and moans as I feel her relax against my chest. I laugh at her.

“Is that what you sound like in bed?” I whispered in her ear laughing lightly. She shoved me in the chest lightly.

“You wish you knew what I sounded like in bed don’t you Pea?” I felt her breath on my ear as she leaned in closer to me.

“Are you two done eye fucking each other? Some of us want to keep our breakfast down before you start to take clothes off each other.” Jughead whacked Rory on the back on the head causing her head to knock gently into mine.

“Fuck you Jones.” I rubbed my head where hers had connected and she turned around on my lap to look at our friends. I wrapped my hands around her waist gently as Toni and Rory started up a conversation about Rory getting a few shifts either at the wyrm or pop’s. I wasn’t really paying attention to what she was saying but rather how she was talking. I watched as her eyes light up before she took her phone out of her back pocket putting all her weight onto my pelvis as she lifted the other side of her ass up to get her phone. Her tongue poked out through her teeth and she scrolled furiously through her phone looking for something to show Toni before she turned it around to show the pink haired girl. They both giggled and I felt her place her free hand on my knee absentmindedly rubbing circles with her thumb. I felt Jones kick my shin to get my attention. It shook me out of my trance as I turned my head to look around Rory at the serpent legacy. He only just raised his eyebrows at me before he looked at Rory then back to me. I shrugged and tuned back into Rory and Toni’s conversation.

“… so we need to go shopping today after school then.” I felt Rory chuckle at Toni and nodded.

“Wanna come shopping with us Sweet Pea?” Rory asked me adjusting yet again my lap.

“He doesn’t do shopping.” Toni answered before I could say I would like to go with them. I think she may have just wanted a girls shopping trip. But I also know the amount of times I’ve complained when she has dragged me shopping, so I guess she was right, but I found myself just always wanting to be around Rory. Even more now that I got to know her. Yes the first night I saw her with Jones at the wyrm I thought she was hot, then she stood up to me and said she would become a serpent just to prove me wrong and I thought the way the light captured her deep red hair was beautiful. Then she started to hang out with us more at the wyrm and I started to get to know her more, the day we were all hauled into the sheriffs station and I saw her push through Southside highs doors right before I was slammed into a row of lockers I knew then and there that I needed to protect her from everything bad that goes on in the serpents. I knew she could handle herself but I also just wanted her to see me as something more than just a hot headed serpent going nowhere. In the time I have known her she and I have gotten really close, as well as Toni and Fangs, but sometimes I feel like she enjoys our slight banter and may even be more comfortable around me than the other two. In different ways she is friends with all of us. She and Jones have been friends since they were born, so they have an unbreakable bond with each other, like brother and sister, but less fighting. She and Fangs are on the verge of that brother-sister bond as well, they play fight and play wrestle like she’s one of the guys. She and Toni have that weird girly bond, they talk about shoes and clothes and boys, when us boys aren’t around though, Jones doesn’t want to hear about who Rory thinks is bangable this week, I find myself not wanting to be part of that conversation either. But with Rory and I its just comfortable. She can come up to me and sit in my lap without it being weird, we flirt with each other and we push buttons, I can pull her into a long, tight hug and she will know I needed that then and hug me back just as tight. She gets me, and I get her. We are one in the same but yet we both balance each other out. One touch from her and my anger can dissipate into thin air. One touch from me and she’s smiling again instead of frowning. I hated to see her frown, it made me wonder what she was thinking about. Every time she touches me though I get brought right back to the night she became a serpent almost three months ago now. When the bulldogs came in and I had a busted lip from Mantle, the way she had held my face in her hand had sent electricity through my whole being. At the time I thought she was trying to make me weak, but as time went on I noticed that when I was around her I actually felt stronger.

“Hey! Serpent slut!” Mantle strode in and Toni and Rory looked over, he could be talking about either one of them, but either way I didn’t like it as Rory got up off me and walked over to him.

“What do you want mutt?” She crossed her arms over her chest having left her coffee near me in case she needed her hands.

“I’m offering you a spot in my bed this weekend after Cheryl’s party,” he reached up and tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear, I saw red as he touched her and I was on my feet and heading over to them before I saw her grab his wrist twisting it painfully before she snarled and grit her teeth.

“Let’s make this very clear Reggie. I have never, nor will I ever think about being in a bed with you. I don’t need fleas from the likes of you.” She released his wrist and I lent against the couch Rory and I had been previously seated on.

“Oh but you’ll get bitten by one of those greasy snakes? I can see a faint mark on your neck there,” he reached up again and pointed to her neck. “Who gave that to you? One of them or all of them?” Her hand flew up to her neck and she looked back over to me. That’s my cue.

“Back off bulldog! She doesn’t want you.” I pushed her gently behind me. I knew this was partly my fault anyway. Last night I jokingly gave her a hickey while we were at the wyrm when she wouldn’t stop moving around on my lap.

“Oh but she wants you? A fucking snake? Pfft as if, serpent.” I pushed him in the chest as Toni and Jones came over to us. Toni taking Rory and leaving the lounge before things got messy. Mantle, Jones and I were suspended for two days because of the fight. After school got out I heard a knock on my door, groaning I got up off the couch to open it. I stood at my front door in a pair of sweats and no shirt as the ac in my trailer had shit itself and it was stupidly hot in there. I came face to face with a pair of bright green eyes.

“You gonna let me in?” She crossed her arms over her chest and I moved out of the way for her to make her way in. She sat down on the couch and shrugged off her light jacket resting it on the back of the couch. “You know I could have handled Reggie right?” She asked me as I moved into the kitchen to get some water for us.

“It was partly my fault that he started it anyway, I’m sure if he didn’t see the hickey it wouldn’t have escalated like it did.” I handed her the glass of water and sat down beside her. I watched as she took in everything about my trailer, I started to feel a bit self conscious as I noticed a small pile of clothes by the bathroom door and a bunch of empty take out boxes on the dinning room table. She looked back at me as she took a sip of her water. I knew she was used to a fancier home, her dad owned Andrew’s construction for fucks sakes she had it good and had a nice two story home on the Northside, and I lived alone in a tiny ass trailer on the Southside.

“I know but I can fight my own battles Pea, I don’t need you to do it for me all the time. I am a serpent too and I’ve been dealing with Reggie longer than I’ve known you.” She shrugged at me as she lifted her leg up so she could turn her whole body to me.

“I know you can, I just don’t like feeling useless when I know my friends are being looked down on. And again if I hadn’t have given that to you he probably wouldn’t have started it.” She placed her glass down on the coffee table in front of us before she started to fiddle with the rings on her fingers. I placed my much larger hands over hers and pried them apart from each other making her look up at me.

“I can’t keep letting you get suspended for fights over me anymore Pea. You need to lay off or your never going to lose the reputation of hot head.” She pulled her hands from mine and stood up.

“Maybe I just want to protect my friends, did you ever think about that? He many times have I gotten into fights over anything but people talking down to the Southside? How many time have you seen me punch someone who didn’t deserve it for being vulgar or disrespectful to either you or Toni, of even Fangs? What do you want me to do? Roll over and pretend nothing is happening? Just let people walk all over you? News flash Rory, that isn’t the way I was raised. I was raised a serpent, no serpent stands alone and I’ll be damned if I’m the one to leave you alone when you need me.” I ran my hands through my hair standing up halfway through my rant.

“Damnit Sweet Pea! I don’t need you to protect me! I am my own person, I can handle a couple of dim witted bulldogs and I can even handle some serpents. I’m not some fragile fucking doll for you to protect.” She started to pace around in my lounge room pulling at the roots of her hair. This was the first time I think I had ever seen her so worked up before.

“Well I’m sorry for taking an interest in the well being of my friend, Rory.” I took a step closer to her and she held up her hands in front of her.

“Then don’t.” She stopped pacing and turned to look at my eyes the best she could. I stooped my head down slightly so I could also see her eyes. “Just forget you ever fucking knew me because I can’t keep sitting here watching as you get yourself beaten to a pulp for me.” She tugged at her roots before she turned around and was out the door. I went to go after her but the door slammed in my face and I heard her car speed off. I punched the door causing a big hole to crumble. As I rested my head on the broken wood I thought about what I could have possibly done for her to hate me. I came up blank and decided to talk to her tomorrow at school.

Fangs and Toni had come by soon after Rory left.

“Dude! What happened to your door?” Fangs asked examining the splintered wood. I stayed sitting on my couch with my hands in my hair trying not to cry at the thought of never seeing Rory again.

“I think his anger got the best of him again, but my question is; who was it aimed at?” Toni asked as she made her way into the kitchen to pull out a beer for each of us.

“Myself.” I grumbled running my hands through my hair once again. I saw Fangs give Toni a look.

“He pissed off Rory, and now he blames himself for whatever happened, if I’m wrong tell me because I don’t see her here and she usually is. You two are usually watching movies and cuddling on the couch when we get here.” I groaned and shot Toni a glare, why did she have to be right. “Thought so, now what did you do?”

“She told me she could have handled Mantle today and I told her that I did it because I care about my friends and want to protect them. She then yelled at me, something about not being a fragile doll and told me to forget I ever knew her and then walked out the door.” I ran my hands through my hair again, missing the feeling of Rory dong it whenever she was bored.

“I know why she’s pissed then, but maybe just give her a bit of space and try talking to her in like a week or so.” Toni told me. “Now I’m going to check on my other friend because if I’m right as to why she is pissed then she needs me as much as you need Fangs. And you’re also a fucking idiot Sweet Pea, Fangs talk some sense into this dumbass please.” She put her hand on my knee and I jerked away. Too many times that hand had been Rory’s. Fangs saluted and I nodded as she took off out of my trailer and jumped on her bike.

“You like her don’t you?” Fangs turned to me.

“I think I remember this conversation from a couple of months ago, answer is still ‘I barely like you’.”

“Yes, but Toni and I aren’t Rory. You let her play with your hair, sit on your lap, you give each other hickies all the time, and I’m sure I’ve seen you smile and blush more in the last three months than I have in my whole life of knowing you. You’ve also gotten into a lot more fights since meeting her too. That Jason guy was the first one for seemingly no reason until Toni explained what had happened the night she became a serpent. You like her you dumbass and she likes you, your just too stubborn to admit it yourself and to her. She left and got pissed because you called her a friend and nothing more.” I shook my head at him.

#sweet pea x you #sweet pea x oc #sweet pea #sweet pea imagines #sweet pea x reader

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ish-scribbles · 4 years ago

Text

Wearing his Jersey

At the Nekoma Training Camp, You and your team from Karasuno High get an unexpected invite to a Halloween Costume Party at Nekoma High and since you didn't have a costume, You wore his jersey.

Pairing: Nishinoya Yuu x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warning: Whole lotta flufff~ also this is my first fic :)

"Y/N!" A familiar libero yells to you while frantically waving his hand as he enters the gym with Tanaka "Do you need help carrying that?" He says while jogging to you from the other side of the gym.

"No no, it's alright Noya, me and Yachi can carry it together it once she arrives, I don't want to bother you, you can start with your warm ups tho-" you reply as you try to push the heavy trolley full of volleyball equipment yourself again to which I may add you fail miserably

"Are you kidding me? Nothing makes me happier than helping one of our talented team managers" he replies smoothly while flashing a bright smile at you.

You were one of the two first years Kiyoko scouted to be Team Managers for the Karasuno Boys Volleyball Team after she graduates. Amongst you and Yachi, you were the more social one and comparitively easy to talk to. In in all due time you both mixed well and got to know a lot of things about the team, but the thing you weren't aware of yet was that a certain libero had his eyes set on you for a long time, even before you joined Karasuno.

You and Nishinoya went to the same Middle School and lived around the same neighborhood. He liked you ever since he was in middle school but he could never muster the courage to say 'hi' let alone start a conversation with you which was very ironic to the type of person he was. Since, you never seemed to have anything in common with him, he never tried to start anything in the fear of direct rejection. But when he found out that you were one of the first years at Karasuno High AND are going to be one of the new team managers for his team, he was ECSTATIC to say the least. He would finally get to talk to you, spend time with you, get to know you, maybe even be good friends?! But on the day when Kiyoko brought you and Yachi to introduce yourselves to the team, Noya was beyond shocked even before he got to introduced himself.

"Wait! You're Nishinoya, the libero who was in Chidoriyama Junior High aren't you? I always saw you in our school matches, heck I often came to your matches to cheer for you guys,,, tho it's okay if you don't know me" you said with a nervous laugh.

"Of course I know you, You're Y/N, though I have to admit I never knew you that well or know the fact that you came to watch our matches" he smiles while he scratching his head shyly

"Oh I wouldn't miss your matches for the world unless I had some test or something, Our team was so impressive and now that I think of it your Rolling Thunder move was AMAZING!" You said enthusiastically the poor boi got so flustered~~

It wasn't that you didn't want Noya to be more than friends, You even had a crush on him in middle school but were too shy to do anything about it and then he graduated middle school a year before and you never got the chance again. But the truth was you never thought of yourself to be someone who people could like in such a way you were somewhat insecure about yourself but after joining Karasuno you got to meet him again and the of two slowly became close friends who enjoyed each other's company.

It was at this moment when Nishinoya completely fell for you. After that day, Noya tried to spend anytime he could with you; walking you to school and back since you lived nearby, sitting with you during the lunch time or inviting you to sit with him and Tanaka along with occasional surprises like candies or other snacks. He even helped you with your manager duties. Anything you wanted, he was just one call away. He tried to make it VERY obvious that he liked you VERY much, but you never considered it to be more than a him being friendly,,, atleast that's what you convinced yourself to since you considered him way out of your league and were low-key a little self conscious too.

You not understanding his advances in that way sometimes got him thinking if he even had a chance with you or was it just a loss cause, a one sided crush? But he never gave up on you, thats just the kind of guy he was.

-x-x-x-

It wasn't very long after you joined the team, when you and Yachi were asked to go to Tokyo with the rest of the team for the Nekoma Training Camp and since you wanted to learn everything about being a team manager before Kiyoko graduated, you said yes.

After reaching the Training Camp, a lot of guys from different schools tried to hit on you, Yachi and Kiyoko,,, but Tanaka, Nishinoya and Yamamoto from Nekoma made it their mission to not let guys approach and hit on you by anyone but them.

At the camp, practice started early in the morning and ended late in the evening. While the boys practiced volleyball, you and Yachi learned a lot of new things from Kiyoko and the other managers there. Days went by and it was the second last day of the camp already. You and the team received an unexpected invite to a costume party.

"A costume party?" You asked to which Takeda Sensei answered and addressed to the whole team as well "Yes, apparently it's a tradition like prom at Nekoma High and they have a Halloween Costume Party every year and this year all the teams at the training camp are invited. The party will have students from different schools so it is a good opportunity to make connections...I expect you guys to attend it. The party will start tomorrow at 12 in the afternoon and will end at 6 in the evening. Since the party has a compulsory rule of wearing a costume, all of are free for now to go and find costumes to rent, but I expect everyone to return before 9 or no dinner!!" to which the whole team replied "Yes, sensei!"

-x-x-x-

The next day at the party, Asahi Suga and Daichi being the dorks they are chose to show up as the three musketeers. Kageyama and Hinata lost a bet to Tsukishima so they went as a King and a Tangerine, and the rest of the team showed up with good costumes too. Nishinoya dressed up as a Ninja who looked straight out of anime, yes he looked that good and Tanaka dressed up as a samurai.

"Man~ I really wanted to be a sumo-wrestler instead of a samurai but Daichi said it showed too much skin, He's probably jealous of my good looks" Tanaka pouted while complaining and fidgeting with his costume

"Ew no, nobody wants to see you like that, Tanaka! By the way have you seen Y/N and the others, Aren't they here yet?" Nishinoya asked as he glanced around

"Oh somebody in a rush to see Y/N?" Tanaka cheerily asked with all sorts of wiggly eyebrows "CUT IT OUT ALREADY, What if she's around and she hears you?!" Nishinoya says frantically

"Relax~~ she hasn't arrived yet, otherwise all of the guys would've been drooling over her and rest of our gorgeous team managers"

"I suppose you're right"

After a lot of brainstorming Kiyoko decided she's not wearing anything special, so she wore an oversized hoodie and carried a xbox remote control which she borrowed from Kenma and that gave her a gamer girl look, while you and Yachi remained clueless.

But where were you, Yachi and Kiyoko? Ah yes, you guys still didn't have a costume yet,,,so while the others had already started partying, you guys were still in your shared room deciding on your outfits, since all of the costumes at the store were either too revealing or not in your size, so that was a lost cause.

"Kiyoko-san, its not fair~ you look so pretty even in the simplest of clothes" you sighed

"That's not true, though...haven't you guys decided on a costume yet?" Kiyoko asked

"Noo" you sighed while sitting on the floor with your chin on your knees almost ready to give up on the party.

"Well..umm...I had an idea but it could be a little ridiculous. But like...what if we wore our school volleyball jersey? It can be a way to show our school spirits and we would finally have a costume to wear?" Yachi proposed.

"That seems like a great idea" Kiyoko answered with a slight smile.

"Great, I'll call Hinata and ask if I can borrow his jersey" Yachi said while she scrolling to find his number on her phone.

"I guess I could ask Nishinoya, we're about the same height and we're good friends too so it shouldn't be a problem, I suppose" You say to yourself to which Kiyoko nods in approval and continued getting ready, and then you dial up Noya's number.

When Noya first got your call he got into frenzy thinking why were you calling him since you didn't call each other that often, but he picked up the phone anyways

"Y-Y/N?"

"Hey, Noya? haha funny story and I'll explain it later, but I'm desperate right now so would it be too much trouble if i can I borrow your jer-" before you finished your sentence loud music started blasting over the party and your voice wasn't audible anymore.

"Y/N, Y/N? Hello? Y/N I can't hear you anymore...but if there's something that you want to borrow, you can take it"

When you came back to your room, you and Yachi started changing,,,After wearing Nishinoya's jersey you noticed that his shorts were skin tight while his jersey t-shirt was baggy which made you think how muscular he actually is.

After your call ended, you and Yachi went over to the room where the boys were sleeping over at and while Yachi searched for Hinata's uniform, you searched for Noya's. When you finally found his jersey, an unexpected scent of sweat mixed with sports deo hit your senses, which was nice to smell low-key addicting? and you thought to yourself 'Does he always smells this nice?' and before you went any further, your train of thought was interrupted by Yachi saying "Let's go and get changed" with a slight smile on her face.

After the three of you got ready, you finally started off to the hall where the party was being held. When the three of you showed up at the entry gate, you felt everyone's head turning towards you three. Tanaka and Nishinoya saw the slight commotion and decided to go over to have a look by themselves at what's going on as well.

After reaching the entry, Nishinoya stopped in his tracks when he found a familiar figure looking back at him wearing his orange jersey. YOU WERE FINALLY HERE. IN HIS JERSEY. WEARING HIS NUMBER. WEARING HIS NAME POOR BOY GOT SO SHOCKED HE ALMOST PASSED OUT LIKE AJSKDHDNK

After you finally spotted Nishinoya in the crowd you excused yourself from Kiyoko and Yachi as you wanted to apologize for not taking permission to wear his jersey properly over the phone, so you started walking towards him. While you walking towards him you felt all the guys around eyeing at you and even Nishinoya looked somewhat dumbfounded. While you were trying to make your way towards him, he was so entranced by you that every memory that he had with you flashed before his eyes. The time you tried to hit spikes to help him practice receives, the times you sat with him at lunch laughing at his stupidest jokes, you massaging his shoulders to relax the muscle he pulled during a match, the worry he saw in your eyes when you saw his bruised arms from restless practices, the way you get all excited when he pulls a 'rolling thunder' move while other laughed at him for the name he gave to the move.

The moment you reached him, Tanaka left you two alone saying something like "I gotta show Kiyoko my awesome costume~" while Nishinoya still silently looked at you with his mouth slightly agap and spoke nothing until you started talking

"I'm so sorry, I had no costume to wear and Yachi and I decided to show some school spirit by wearing the jerseys, You don't mind, do you? I PROMISE I'LL WASH IT BEFORE I GIVE IT BACK. Its just that costumes were compulsory for entering the party and I didn't knew whether I'll have another chance to an event like this so I'm sorry if bothers you, I'll go back and change right now if you want" You frantically spoke while clasping your hands together to apologize.

Nishinoya couldn't say anything else than "Don't worry about it" his eyes not leaving your body for a second, he was too busy admiring his jersey on you, he was practically MESMERIZED. The way his jersey hugged every part and every curve of your body just perfectly, HE WANTED YOU TO WEAR HIS JERSEY FOREVER! The way his shorts were tight but his t-shirt was baggy, it made him feel slightly bigger than you.

"Do I look that bad tho? I feel like everyone's staring at me" You ask with a slight nervous laugh as you got a little nervous thinking whether everyone is looking at you because you looker weird but you instead got the reaction

"Are you kidding?! That's because you look the like the most beautiful person in the whole world!!" He says without a warning and after realizing what he just said and he himself didn't knew why did he just say it to your face

This catches you off guard as well and your cheek turns to a bright pink tone as well.

But he looks back at you and gathers the last of his remaining courage and puts his hand out to ask "Would you like to dance with me? This is a party after all you know" he says with a big smile shooting his last shot but in the back of his head he expected a straight out rejection because he thought 'Why would girl like her ever dance with a guy like me, stupid stupid stupid' but to his surprise you said "Yes" and took his hand while returning a small and still flustered smile. HE WAS ON CLOUD 9.

After the party ended, he asked you out and you say yes. After that day you were forced to wear his spare jersey to each of Karasuno's game and to this day, you in his jersey at that party is his phone wallpaper and he has no intention of changing it.

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tsu9live · 4 years ago

Text

Before I start, this is in no offence to anyone else’s opinion. You are all valid and probably make more sense than me. This is a bit of a rant and then a short character study.

Warning: This got too long.

I tend to come online for manga updates and ended up reading through opinion posts because I am a curious cat. Most of the time I come across really well-thought out posts, really valid points. But then MHA is also a soap opera/family drama where the main character is not supposed to have any progress in his story unless its to bolster or move along the other favs . But then they shouldn’t be bolstering his story either because why is a story about Deku’s journey all about Deku?

But then there are people who are happy Deku is finally edgy and they want him to wipe the floor with his classmates who love him and are willing to fight him if only to get through to him. So there are both extremes and honestly there is validity in all these thoughts because despite the writer’s intentions, a reader brings the story to life.

I personally hate making my own predictions because most of the time I feel it ruins the experience of reading a work for me. I go in with different expectations and when the story goes a different way I don’t enjoy it as much but I feel its more my fault.

So I do understand and respect the difference of opinion because there is no fandom without discourse.

In my opinion though, this Deku solo arc was a long time coming and I think Horikoshi has handled it really weird. I’m still trying to understand what he wants us to think about.

A story about heroes and putting your life on the line for someone else is controversial, but, I thought it was a given. Recklessness had been part of Deku’s character but an overly-cautious character would do nothing. Deku’s lack of self-preservation wasn’t unnatural for a hero, he rushed in to save Bakugo from the slime-villain when Pros stood by putting himself at risk but it spurred AM to act. Katsuki experienced it as well during the war arc, when his body moved to save Deku.

Going to Kamino to save Bakugo was suicidal, reckless and potentially flawed but story-wise it made sense. How is hero-work anything than risky? Kirishima and Todoroki initiated it.

Disclaimer: Deku, Bakugo, Uraraka, Momo, Toga and Shigaraki are characters that are very dear to me because they have had me extremely invested since the beginning of the story. This is my personal opinion, flaws, rant... basically me working through my feelings about this manga I had been obsessed with recently.

1) There is an opinion where Bakugo had a right to be upset/angry/bully Deku because he wanted to be a hero but did nothing for it. Firstly, I don’t understand the need to justify his behaviour when he himself has expressed regret on it. People want others to move on from the “go jump off the roof comment” but won’t stop talking about how everything about Bully Bakugo was justified. Deku was weaker, but he had the same dreams, dreams that were the basis of their friendship earlier on. Regardless of how Deku wanted to achieve them, Bakugo had no right to keep trying to stop him from doing so. No, 5, 10, 14 year old Bakugo did not do so because he had the brilliant foresight that Deku would be self-sacrificial and it was for his sake, he was an angry kid and Deku was a timid, wannabe that confused him, intimidated him even. Taking out his anger was a way of working through those feelings. He was in Deku’s words “a punching bag”. In a world where the powerful reign, Bakugo couldn’t understand how a quirk less, weak little boy could think he could stand shoulder to shoulder with someone as gifted as Bakugo. Yeah, society is very much to blame. The change and maturity Bakugo goes through where he is humbled by a cast of amazing hero students who are just as gifted yet with inspiring personalities and then traumatic consequences of being kidnapped, watching his hero use the last of his powers to hold back a great evil, having that fight with Deku where he bared himself open, failing the licensing exam, training with todoroki, the internship... the war has changed him in a way that has brought out his full potential as a hero and a person. There is a lot to admire about him yet I see so many people fixate on headcanons that glorify his every action/word instead of praising the amazing person he has become/how well written his growth has been.

2) “Deku wanted to be a hero and he did nothing for it”. “He could have been a quirkless hero like Batman.” Listen, the story is about AFO vs OFA first and foremost. Hori has done a good job of worldbuilding and adding a cast of interesting characters that its easy to forget what the main plot point of the story is. But it really is about a weak/timid boy who was born with a sort of handicap who dared to dream to be someone strong enough to have others rely on him instead. A lot of the times people want to become something they feel they needed, someone who gave people hope just by existing. Its natural for someone who is ‘considered useless’ to want to be the most useful person ever. His mother didn’t believe he could do it, Bakugo told him repeatedly he shouldn’t even try, everyone else made fun of him, and his hero gave him a wake-up call, no... you can’t be a hero without a quirk. Deku studied heroes and quirks all his life, hoping he’d find something that could work for his advantage. Not every hero relies on physical strength, their bodies are adapted to the nature of their quirks. Deku’s analysis, quick-thinking and impulsive nature is what helped him progress even after getting the quirk because he didn’t gain control until really late. People act like he was handed power, seem to forget he has just learned to use it without consequences. His studies of quirks also made him the best candidate to get new quirks, quirks that he has learned to utilise as tools quickly and efficiently. He was doing what he thought was going to help him become a hero without guidance, without backing and constant discouragements. Its admirable and relatable. If you don’t relate to him that’s fine, your life was different.

Batman was loaded. Deku is not an inventor. The Editors shot that idea down because it would not have survived in a genre where power fantasies are the main hooks. Aizawa, sure he’s training Shinso because he sees his potential now but he would have either expelled Deku/moved him to General studies on that first day for scoring the least in that test. He changed his mind not because of Deku’s quirk but because of Deku’s ingenuity.

When Deku did find his guidance, he tried to do years of work/training in a short period of time. He acknowledges how far behind he is, that the rest are leagues above him and all he wants is to be able to stand side by side with those incredible people and he would go to all lengths to do so. DEKU has never said he wants to be the number one hero. He always says he wants to be one so reliable he saves people with a smile and later on, he wants to be a hero that can save without having other people worry about him. Bakugo works hard, he’s not just exceptional he works hard for it, all of 1A do but saying Deku does nothing when he is constantly shown, studying, training his body, understanding his shortcomings and working on it is just petty. You don’t like him because of his saviour complex, newsflash, that is a hero thing. Hero course is about that, Deku’s is just highlighted because of how often he gets hurt. How can you be a Todoroki stan and hate Deku (although to be fair its your right, I’m just making a point), the kid saw Shouto and decided that it was more important for Shouto to stop hurting and gave him a hell of a fight. I still remember Shouto’s smile, it gave me goose bumps.

Deku’s lack of self-preservation is a part of his programming so much that he hasn’t noticed it yet. Deku broke his bones, but he didn’t realise the permanent damage. When Deku got injured with Muscular, he was never intending to fight him alone. He wanted backup, his phone was broken and he wanted to get Kouta out and tried but Muscular gave him no opening. He was driven into a corner and fought his way out. Like Aizawa said, “He got that injured because he has no intention of dying.” Before rushing to find Bakugo, he informed his superior first, knowing she can spread the message.

The fight with Stain, he messaged his location to all his classmates, didn’t intend to fight Stain alone, just defend Iida long enough for help to come along. Fight with overhaul, he just wanted to get Eri away and when he understood Eri’s power, he gave her the opportunity to fight back against her oppressor by teaming up with him, keeping her secure with the cape made out of Lemillion’s hair. During the whole fight he was present-minded enough to take the fight away from civilians and managed to prevent damage and casualties. During Natsuo’s rescue he played support.

During the war arc, he realised with despair that Shigaraki was coming in all his destructive glory for him and tried to stop him before but he didn’t object to Bakugo joining him. In the movie Heroes Rising (the initially planned ending) he willingly gave OFA to Bakugo, because he trusts him with his life, and was willing to be quirkless again if that’s what it took to keep the kids safe, and himself and Bakugo alive. Its mostly been good decisions on his part.

Its the war arc that’s been his downfall. Watching his childhood friend/rival almost die, his best friend, his mentors almost die while he could barely hold Shigaraki back set off a fight or flight response in him. The seriousness of how Shigaraki came for him and left such death and destruction in his wake because he was not strong enough and AFO is a monster and the sight of Shigaraki and the reality of his situation pushed him down the current path. His solo arc started well because constantly training in the field has helped him master his quirk, and he had the backup of the vestiges who trained and guided him in learning to use it as a toolset instead of a one-punch solution. Then coming face to face with the flaws of hero society and the power, manipulative nature and destructive intentions of AFO has prepared him emotionally. He is not acting like AM, he hasn’t in a while. He is acting like NANA and i don’t blame him because she’s in his head. No adult stopped him from doing this, instead using him as bait to lure out the league.

When they started realising he’s spiralling out of control, that’s when they realised they messed up.

He’s running on adrenaline/fumes alone and I think he’s actually terrified.

“AFO is OFA’s responsibility” “Tell the world I am here” “You’re not as strong as me yet,” “You are not a worthy successor”

Deku isn’t self-centered and but I agree with the screw loose comment (its years of “you are useless, not good enough, not worthy and I bet a dozen or so concussions, bloodloss, dehydration lol). I know Bakugo means well and that’s how he talks. At the moment, he’s probably the only one whose sole goal is Deku’s survival. Deku’s like a wild animal, terrified, lost and as always backed into a corner. AFO has him where he wants him and I am curious to see how class 1 A are going to get through to him. I don’t want them to fight, all those fanarts of Bakugo reaching his hand out to Deku and then maybe punching him in the face would have been a lot better then the mocking (the slow clap was a little triggering for me) but again maybe it just bothers me and Deku needs it. I’ll just have to wait and see. Deku and his class together would be an unstopabble force and I am waiting for that to finally happen.

P.S. Class 1 A looks so mature, everyone going crazy about Bakugo and his tie and I’m here like, look at baby Kirishima and his roots <3

I’m sorry if I gave anyone a headache lol.

#bnha spoilers #deku #personal rant #character study #midoriya izuku #bnha 319 #mha

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