#and boy we put them through an absurd amount of shit. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rorykillmore · 6 years ago

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so today is @spearitsandmonsters‘ birthday and they wanted a fic -- and after tossing around a few ideas i decided not to do a bigger continuous thing and instead actually write a series of little fic drabbles based on some of the rp dynamics we’ve had over the years!

spear... i honestly had so much fun writing this and revisiting some of our old characters; i have SO many fond memories of our rps and dynamics that all still really mean a lot to me, so i hope it’s nostalgic for you to revisit them too. thank you in general for just... being such a caring, supportive friend. i know your birthday isn’t your Favorite time of year and i also know that this year has been a bit of a roller coaster for you in general but i’m so proud of you for pushing forward and doing the things that are important to your wellbeing in spite of how hard i know it’s been!!! that takes a lot of strength and you should be proud to have survived the TRIUMPHS and defeats, the epic HIGHS and LOWS of 2018-2019.

okay seriously here are some drabbles for 5 of our old dynamics + 1 newer one

Lucille makes a point of learning contemporary music. Something new every couple of weeks or so, her way of making sure the dust doesn’t settle, that she is no longer playing the same tune over and over and over.

She often practices in the hottest part of the afternoon, when she doesn’t much prefer to be outside anyway. The summers here are a bit too warm and humid for her liking, still, but it seems a small price to pay for living by the sea. For freedom.

“What is that? It’s pretty.”

Lucille stops playing and turns toward where Maria is leaning in the doorway. “It’s called Cristofori’s Dream. Just something I’m learning by ear.”

Maria smiles, but something about it seems the slightest bit strained. “You’ve never told me where you learned to play like that.”

“Yes, well.” Most of the finer details of her childhood are better left untold, though sometimes she feels the strangest kind of guilt, keeping things close to her chest around Maria -- who has so few real memories of her own. “It was a long time ago. Do you play?”

There’s a pause which Lucille more certainly reads as strained, this time. A familiar flicker of something across Maria’s expression. Lucille, by now, has learned to understand what it means.

“...Perhaps you’d like to learn another instrument, then.”

That seems to catch Maria off guard. She raises her eyebrows. “...I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it.” Her tone is cautious, but curious, the way it is when a part of her wants to reach out towards something new. Something that is uniquely her’s.

Lucille plays it off, not indifferent, but not too insistent either. “I learned the cello as a child, as well, and I’ve been teaching myself a little of the guitar here. I could teach you either of those, if you’d like -- really, there are all sorts of ways of learning an instrument now. One of the luxuries of the time period.”

Maria watches her, mystified. Or hesitant. Lucille can’t quite tell which. “...You’d really want to teach me? I wouldn’t want to take up so much of your time.”

Lucille splays her fingers across the ivory piano keys, examining them, saying nothing for a moment. It’s not that she has to think it over -- she’s not one to offer things out of obligation. It’s just that she always finds herself choosing her words carefully with sentimental matters, even with Maria, even after all this time. “I can’t think of a better way to spend it, at the moment,” is what she simply settles for.

Maria’s careful expression breaks into a soft smile.

“Do you ever think about dating someone else?”

Veronica doesn’t know where her best friend’s head has been lately. It’s been a couple of weeks since Heather had told her she’d broken up with Ratchet, and Veronica... Veronica had tried to put most of her complicated feelings about that aside and just focus on concern.

Except, Heather doesn’t seem very interested in concern. Or interested in anything, really. She’s been distant, and thoughtful, and quiet, and So Very Not Heather Chandler that it’s honestly a little frightening. Or more than a little. The gnawing feeling in Veronica’s stomach is a dull undertone on a good day and an all-consuming ache on a bad one. Every time she catches herself focusing on it, she has to brush aside the feeling that everything is falling apart. (Again.)

“What?” she asks, utterly nonplussed, because all things considered it makes no sense for Heather to be asking her this question now.

“Like, after JD,” Heather clarifies bluntly, and Veronica supposes it says something about how far she’s come that she doesn’t flinch at the very mention of his name. “Do you think... you’d ever want to be with anyone again, after everything.”

Heather picks idly at her leggings. Veronica feels anxiety twist in her chest, instinctive, and stuffs it down to try and rationalize the question. Because she’s getting better. She is.

Still, no solid answer comes to her.

“I hope so,” she offers after a pained moment, soft and honest. “I have to hope, right? That things will keep getting better. I mean, they have so far.”

But when she tries to picture herself with someone else, well -- it’s only lately that she’s even been able to will herself to do that. And the problem is, the pictures are always a little too specific for her liking.

Heather doesn’t say anything, and it’s partially out of concern and partially out of an unwillingness to be alone with her own thoughts any longer that Veronica presses, “Is that how you feel? After... Ratchet?”

It’s been hard to gauge how torn up Heather really is over it, honestly. Veronica finds she doesn’t like not being able to read her.

“Not really,” Heather surprises her by answering, giving a one shouldered shrug. “We’re still friends, and everything.”

This is actually news to Veronica. She raises her eyebrows.

Heather pauses, and then continues, “We talked about a lot of stuff.” And then she lifts her gaze to meet Veronica’s, finally, and Veronica forgets to breathe for a heartbeat -- because the look in Heather’s eyes is different. Open. A little too intense. Veronica can’t get a read, can’t decide what’s projecting and what isn’t.

She swallows. “Do you... wanna talk about it?”

Heather seems to consider that. And then she shakes her head. “Not right now.”

Veronica grapples with a strange mixture of relief and disappointment, until Heather adds a little more softly, “Or not... yet. I guess. I think we both need time.”

Heather and Ratchet? Or...

“Okay,” Veronica answers, her voice closer to a murmur now. Heather’s expression is still achingly open, softer than Veronica’s seen it in weeks, and Veronica can’t help it -- she softens too. “You know I’m here when you decide you want to, right?”

In lieu of an immediate response, Heather gets up from the living room armchair and moves to sit on the couch with Veronica. She doesn’t stretch out and lounge, catlike, like she usually does, but curls into Veronica’s side instead, resting her head on her shoulder. Close enough that Veronica can feel the reassuring beating of her heart.

“I know. Thanks, Ronnie.”

Veronica reminds herself that neither of them are alone anymore. And for the first time in a few weeks, she actually believes it.

It was the same nightmare most nights, at first. Maive doesn’t really remember being dead, per se, so she doesn’t dream of that – but always of something primal and nameless. Teeth splitting flesh, clouded vision, feeling like she’s floating somewhere high above herself. The bloodlust, and everything she’s afraid she might do.

It starts to happen less as time passes and she learns control, but every so often – like tonight – the dreams come back.

She tells her team they stopped a long time ago anyway. And when she wakes up tonight, hackles raised and heart plummeting, she feels shame trickle into her sense of clarity.

“Bad dream?”

Maive’s ears swivel as she realizes she was too preoccupied to hear anyone approach. Sara watches her from where she leans in the doorway, her posture as casual as Maive knows it only gets when Sara is being deliberate.

“I’ll get over it.” She forces a wry shrug and smile. “Don’t tell me I woke you up?” Sara’s a lighter sleeper than most people aboard the Waverider, but Maive cringes inwardly anyway at the idea that she was making any kind of noise.

Sara shakes her head. “I was up anyway. Couldn’t sleep. You know how it is, some nights.”

And Maive reminds herself that they both do.

“Well,” she says, an awkward feeling settled in her chest where her heart still hasn’t fully slowed. “I’ll be okay. Really.”

She guesses Sara must already know how long it takes Maive to fall back asleep after one of those dreams. How the dark always feels like its closing in on her, how her thoughts just feel too loud. Maybe that’s why she shuts the door behind her, moves into Maive’s room, and settles down at the other end of her bed without saying anything.

“Seriously, Sara, you don’t have to, like… talk me down, or whatever. I’m used to it,” Maive insists a little more somberly, watching her. “I’ll be okay.”

“I know,” Sara replies easily, pulling her knees loosely up to her chest. “We don’t have to get into it. I’m just… here to hang out. Until you’re ready to fall back asleep.”

Maive tries to blink away her shock as something warm spreads in her chest. Even if a part of her also feels like that taking so much comfort in Sara’s presence – the way she used to do – is something too juvenile for her to continue to cling to. “I’m not a kid anymore, y’know,” she points out, but the protest doesn’t have any bite to it.

“Awww,” Sara teases, stretching out a leg to nudge her, playful and deliberately overly sentimental. “You’ll always be my kid.”

“Shut up,” Maive laughs, kicking her back legs to shove her away. She doesn’t tell Sara that it makes her feel a little better. Sara already knows.

“I just realized,” Dolores says one day, pausing mid-brushstroke to gaze over at Laurel. “It’s been over a year now since we met, hasn’t it?”

Laurel stares back at her, processing that. “Yeah,” she says slowly. “I guess you’re right. It was last spring, wasn’t it?”

Dolores hums in agreement, turning back to her painting. A smile flits dryly across her lips. “You stopped me from killing that man in Gotham.”

“Right. …How romantic.” Laurel shifts a little, then rises to her feet from where she’d been sitting in the shade of a tree nearby. Dolores hears her tone soften as she adds, “It doesn’t really feel like it’s been that long, does it?”

“Well, I think my perception of time might be a little more skewed than yours,” Dolores points out goodnaturedly. “…For me, sometimes, it’s the opposite. Sometimes I feel like I’ve loved you my whole life.”

In a sense, she supposes she has for much of it, at least. If you only count ‘her life’ as the time she’s actually had control over it.

There’s a quiet pause, but Dolores doesn’t really mind it, letting Laurel take as long as she needs to find words. Then she feels Laurel come up behind her, and she pauses again in her work, setting down her paintbrush so that Laurel can slip her arms around her.

“You’re really good at saying stuff like that,” Laurel murmurs in her ear.

Dolores laughs a little, resting a hand over Laurel’s and leaning gently back into her. “It’s not just saying stuff.”

“I know.” Another pause. “I guess I… try not think about how long we’ve both been here. It’s hard to, without thinking about how every day’s just another day closer to when we go back.”

Slowly, Dolores shifts, and Laurel loosens her hold to let Dolores turn around and face her. They’re both aware that their feelings on the rifts – on wanting to return home – differ, and Dolores thinks she can see a flicker of insecurity in Laurel’s eyes. She reaches up to touch her face, her own expression gentle. “You don’t know that we don’t still have a lot of time here.”

“Yeah. But it’s not knowing that bothers me.” Laurel rolls her eyes briefly at herself. “…Sorry. I’m really killing the mood.”

“No. I want you to talk to me about things.” Dolores leans in to kiss her, lingering just long enough to make her point. “I remember when you weren’t sure if we should even be together, because you were afraid of losing someone else. And I was afraid of…” Well. A lot of things. Brushing that aside, she tilts her head a little and watches Laurel carefully. “Do you think it’s worth it now?”

Laurel swallows, not quite trying to bite back her vulnerability anymore – and when she stares into Dolores’ eyes and answers, its soft and honest. “Yeah. I do.”

Dolores smiles and moves to kiss her again. “Me too.”

“Now, see -- wasn’t this worth hanging up the vigilante cape for a couple of days?”

Nyssa leans against the ship’s railing, gazing out over open water without responding, but Sly is pretty sure he sees the barest flicker of a smile. And he knows enough about Nyssa by now to take that as confirmation.

“I didn’t take you for much of a sailor,” she comments instead of acknowledging his teasing.

He shrugs. “More of a pirate, technically.”

“Of course you are.”

Someone less astute might have said Sly enjoyed needling exasperation from Nyssa. And, well -- he does, but not just for the sake of it. He knows that if Nyssa really didn’t enjoy his company, she’d be blunt as much to say as much, and there’s something about the way she dryly indulges him instead that’s... endearing? Is that the right word?

He just knows he likes the easy banter. He wonders if she’s had much opportunity for something so uncomplicated and fun, before now.

‘Uncomplicated and fun’ is the whole point of today, actually. They’ve known each other for months, but Sly still hadn’t been sure he could count on Nyssa accepting his invitation to go sailing in his newly acquired pirate ship -- but she had. She’s here. Away from land, away from all ties, out in the middle of the ocean, she looks a little freer than Sly can ever remember seeing her. He smiles at her, unable to clamp down on the impulse to open up his heart a bit.

“Actually, my... ancestor was a pirate.”

Nyssa actually turns to look at him then, an eyebrow arched just slightly. “Oh?”

“Yeah, her name was Henriette. Last year, my gang and I stole a boat and chased after some pirates who’d stolen something important from a friend of ours.” Sly pauses, trying to fight back a grin at the thought of Nyssa encountering Dimitri in any capacity. “So I guess I take after her. It’s just kinda... stuck with me, since then. I dunno. I like being out on the water.” He lets the wind buffet his fur.

Nyssa is quiet for a moment, her expression... well, Sly reads it as contemplative. Until she speaks, and unexpectedly, her voice is just the tiniest bit bitter. “I’m afraid my family’s never done much worth living up to.” She halts, almost apologetic, and adds a touch more softly, “But I’m sure you’ve made yours proud.”

Sly’s heart feels like it squeezes a little, but he knows Nyssa won’t appreciate pity, so he swallows his sympathetic words and smiles at her again. “Thanks. And... you know, the family you find can be just important as the family you come from. Sometimes more! So, in a way... I bet you’ve made yours proud too.”

He thinks he might have surprised her, because she only stares at him for a moment. And then she graces him with a rare, genuine smile of her own. “Perhaps you’re right.”

+01

The aliases Villanelle takes on are not simple games of pretend. They are people -- so real in her mind that they might as well actually exist. She molds their stories, their personalities, their mannerisms with careful detail and precision, until she gets to the point where she can put them on and take them off like an outfit.

That’s why she is so good at what she does, so convincing. So if Toffee wants her to take an undercover position as his personal assistant, she is going to be nothing if not thorough.

“Tell me about your world,” she suggests almost conversationally to Laurel the next time they see each other. She bites back amusement as Laurel looks at her and narrows her eyes, questioning and a touch suspicious.

“Why?”

“I need to make sure I get all the details right, if I am going to pretend to be your sister?”

Yes, Villanelle dropped that on her intentionally, but she is not expecting the way Laurel stiffens almost imperceptive. Interesting.

“You’re not doing that,” Laurel tells her tersely.

“Why not?” Villanelle widens her eyes a fraction. “You said you would help me --”

“I said I would help you come up with ideas, I didn’t say you could pose as my sister.”

Truthfully, Villanelle wasn’t all that attached to the idea, but there is obviously something here -- and she can’t leave it alone. “But if I have someone who has supposedly known me all my life, I will be more convincing.”

Laurel scowls at her briefly, picking at an invisible spot on their cafe table. Then she says, “I have a sister. ...Had. It’s complicated. You know, the whole Earth-Two thing.”

“Oh.” Villanelle doesn’t know what she’s supposed to feel about that. Doesn’t that make this easier? “Is she anything like me?”

Laurel stares at her and doesn’t answer. Inwardly, Villanelle has to suppress a sigh. People and their touchy subjects. She doesn’t understand. Her family is dead, and she doesn’t have any problem talking about them.

...At least in broad terms.

But there are other things to consider: Laurel has been a useful ally. She offered to help Eve, and besides that, Villanelle likes her. They aren’t so similar that they understand each other entirely - the way Villanelle yearns to find someone who understands her entirely - but they’re alike enough to understand some of the same things. Right? They’re both criminals.

So... maybe it is worth trying to step back from this boundary.

“Fine, okay,” she relents, smiling to get Laurel to relax a fraction. “I won’t use that.”

Laurel’s outward response is mostly sarcastic, but Villanelle is fairly certain it’s at least somewhat put on. “Great. Thanks. I’m sure you’ll come up with something else.”

“Oh, I already have,” Villanelle informs her cheerfully. “You aren’t too touchy about your cousins, are you?”

Laurel sighs.

#pour one out for the line breaks that were originally in this fic #just kidding it worked out fine #happy birthday spear!!!#fic #btw i looked back some old logs to be able to better grasp heather and veronica's voices #and boy we put them through an absurd amount of shit.

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tooruluv · 4 years ago

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Katsuki Bakugou x F!Reader ( part 1 )

❝ ...and then there’s you. ❞

description: you and bakugou have hated each other since childhood. through the constant bickering, fighting, and actual fist fights... you had no idea that you had been writing to him.

genre: angst, soulmate au where you have a notebook that you can write to your soulmate in

word count: 3.8k

warnings/notes: strong language, lots of angst, aged up characters, bakugou being bakugou, reader has an air manipulation quirk created as part 1 of 3 for my winner of my tooruluv2kparty contest @katsulovee <33

teaser | part 2

| masterlist

“ ‘cause when the sun goes down, someone’s talking back ” - talking to the moon, bruno mars

┏━━━━━⋇⋆⋆⋇❦⋇⋆⋆⋇━━━━━┓

The storm only escalated, casting the sky in deep blues and greys. Loud rain clattered against the roof of your apartment building, the ceiling of your top floor apartment being the only thing that separated you from the pour.

The rain may be cold, but you were on fire.

You had been livid all day, positively outraged by the man who seemed to always be in your way. He was the most arrogant, most opinionated, and most… loud-mouthed person you ever met. You were screaming from the inside out, burning with rage.

Groaning, you sprawled out on your bed.

Katsuki Bakugou was the biggest fucking issue on the planet. His absurd need to be the best at everything he did, his cold demeanor and venom that spews from his mouth -- you wanted nothing more than to punch him directly in the throat.

With a deep breath, you flipped open your Soulmate Journal.

The world was such a strange place, full of quirks and criminals and heroes and villains. To add on top of that, when you turn thirteen a journal just… appears. And whoever is your soulmate can read everything you write. Once they read it, they can reply or talk to you that way and the ink disappears. There are plenty of rules that go along with it, like if you turn thirteen before your soulmate does, the ink is red until they receive their own journal. Or how the journal itself is indestructible. Or the biggest rule: you cannot write any given name.

When you’re thirteen, your life is full of hope and wishful thinking. Almost everyone at that age is excited to start writing to their Person, the one who they were supposed to be created to be with. You were surprised when you opened yours to find nothing written.

You assumed that you were a bit older than your soulmate, but that was quickly shut down as you wrote in black ink. Your soulmate hadn’t written anything.

It took two months for him to write back. Two months of your excessive writing and nearly diary-like entries. Two months of you wondering if they would ever write back. Until he did.

Today sucked.

That was all you wrote, your past two months of writing still ever present and glaring at you with smudges and hinted annoyance. The ink started to fade like Harry talking to Tom Riddle, reappearing with new handwriting.

It was scrawled across the page with terrible handwriting, very much one of a middle school boy.

Life sucks. Deal with it.

You were now twenty two, an adult and that once hope and love has turned into pessimism and indifference. And life still sucked.

You were pretty famous, your air manipulation quirk one that catches a lot of attention. That, alongside your rivalry with the second most famous hero Bakugou, brought an abundance of recognition. Bakugou completely steals your thunder every chance he has, stealing your light and victories.

You hated him. With the utmost disrespect, you hated him. Since your days in the hero academy, the two of you were at each other’s throats. He would even stop in the middle of antagonizing Deku to make some horrendous comment towards you instead.

You ended up scribbling along the Soulmate Pages, heated rage boiling with each word.

Hey Honey! I need to vent if that’s okay.

Of course.

You would not believe the shit I have to endure in real life. I wish I could describe the hatred I have for this man I work with, he’s a real piece of shit. Anyway, how was your day?

My day was about the same as yours, living with the idiots of real life. If we could write names I would because there’s this bitch I work with that I fucking hate.

Maybe we need new jobs (insert laughing face even though I’m livid right now)

Yeah. Maybe. But we’ll get through it.

It took years for your soulmate to warm up to you. The first interactions were hesitant, slow, and barely considered conversations. But now you can discuss your day as if you were texting a friend, talk about your likes and dislikes.

He was your soulmate after all.

You learned that he was a boy and an only kid, he had a strong quirk, and that he liked ramen. He was a rule follower and his handwriting always used proper punctuation. You told him all about your life and how you wanted to travel away from everything.

You wanted to know who he was, more than anything.

You wished you could tell him your name and quirk, where you lived and who you were. You wished he could do the same.

You’ve tried, of course, to write out your name and location. But the second the words were written onto the page, they turned into a random assortment of letters. Gibberish. Never to be written, never to be known.

“Dude, fucking relax!” You rubbed your temple at your desk, voice spitting venom against Bakugou’s loud vocals. “Not everything is about you, just sit down and wait to be sent on a mission.”

“What did you say to me?”

Katsuki Bakugou had been going on and on about how Deku got assigned to a mission in upper Japan, sent to work with a separate force for a bit to expand his horizon. He was outraged, yelling and standing tall and broad to pretend to be bigger than he was.

You were doing paperwork, trying to concentrate despite his yelling and complaining and bitching. You were hovering above your seat with your legs crossed, papers scattered (it was a habit of yours, to just kind of hover a couple of inches off the surface of things; air manipulation and all that).

“I said,” You turned to look into his ablaze eyes. “Sit down and wait. Not everything is about you.”

You only threw fuel into his fire, you could hear the sparking between his fingers. You turned back to your paperwork.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, you’re not even in the top five heroes.” Bakugou barked in your direction. You could feel his heat as he approached your desk. “You can sit and do your own paperwork all you want! I need to be put on serious cases, just like stupid Deku is always placed on.”

“You can argue with me all you want.” You moved to continue your work, pretending to be unbothered. You could feel the anger boil in your chest. “But you still are and will always be measly little number two. Now shut the fuck up, you’re interrupting those who are actually working.”

He was going to hit you, you knew he was. You two ended up fist fighting all the time, oxygen and explosions ending in destruction. Before he could, your boss walked in with a bellowing, “Bakugou! Get over here, I have something for your loud ass!”

You decided to give him a bored middle finger as he walked away.

They say that words are the way of life. You could say an infinite amount of words and sentences in your lifespan, you could say a word and only ever say it one time. Each assortment of words are different each time, something new every day.

You figured that’s why you hated the soulmate thing.

Finding your soulmate should be one of chance, of pure coincidence and meeting of strangers. With the journal, you are starting something you only hope to find. You could go your whole life without finding your soulmate.

And that is terrifying.

There are horror stories of writing to an endless notebook, sad movies created where the lettering turns back to red before they’ve found each other. You wanted nothing more than to meet and just… be with the man you’ve been writing to since you were thirteen.

It seemed to be some sick joke, a tease in the palm of your hands.

When you were young, you attended UA High. It was meant to be the best school for heroes, grooming them into the best of the best. Both of your parents had been heroes themselves, your mom with a cloud quirk and your dad with wings. You took after a bit of both, no wings and no clouds but could create air currents and manipulate the air surrounding you within a certain radius. It has something to do with your breath and lungs, but you never looked too much into the actual DNA aspect.

When you arrived in the hero program, you passed the tests with ease. You tried to focus mainly on yourself and gaining your own points, alongside a couple of students with the same idea.

You were pissed when you were placed in 1-B instead of 1-A. It was the start of your rivalry with the explosion boy.

Luckily, you quickly gained friends. You actually seemed to have a soft spot for Hitoshi Shinsou, and you and Itsuka Kendou seemed to be the only two with brains (this led to many conversations resulting in shit talking and giggling). So in the end, you weren’t too upset to be placed in the second best class.

And you did get to fight with Bakugou a lot more without punishment, your professor wanting to be number one as much as anyone else.

One particular day that you remember to this day, one that really labeled your hatred for Bakuogu, was just a normal day at first. You were finished with your normal morning classes and just beginning the hero portion of the day, the training and fighting.

Your class was working with Class 1-A for the day, teaming up with one of their students and seeing how your quirks would act both against and with each other.

You were, of course, teamed with Bakugou.

The fucker was already set in his ways, loud and in need of attention at all times. You were well aware of his… loud personality… at that point, being beside Shinsou when he called your class “extras”. He was already someone you wanted nothing to do with.

“Good luck.” Kendou muttered to you when your names were announced as partners. “See ya.”

The second you headed to him, you could feel his apprehension. He wanted nothing to do with you. And you wanted nothing to do with him. In fact, you were hoping for Uraraka as your partner, wanting to see how your air manipulation would work with her gravity.

Apparently the professors wanted to see the oxygen working with the burst of flames. Which, honestly, is cool yes — but it was the person behind the explosions that you did not want to be a part of.

Bakugou was not one to mumble under his breath.

“Why am I paired with you?” He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest. “I could at least be with someone interesting like Mind Control over there.”

You already wanted to punch him. “You’ve obviously never seen my quirk.”

“Clearly it hasn’t been interesting enough to be worth my attention.”

“Say that again when I remove the oxygen straight from your lungs.” You threatened, knowing damn well you didn’t know how to do that yet. “Let’s just get this over with.”

He let out a long exhale, moving into position. You were already flying by the time he let off his first explosion.

His utter disrespect for you and your quirk not only irritated you, but only was the start of a long term competition on Who Can Be Better Than Who that lasted the rest of your time at UA.

Through the constant loud arguments, the yelling in the cafeteria and the comments just loud enough for the other to hear, the fist fights and the swearing that was reserved only for each other, you found comfort in talking to your soulmate. It was relaxing after a long day of pure annoyance and shit talking to finally just get to have normal conversations with someone you enjoy.

Are we allowed to ask about school in this thing?

I don’t think so.

I’m sighing. Pretend that you could hear my sigh.

Wow, that was a loud sigh.

YOU’RE FUNNY! Anyway, I really want to know if we go to school together :(((

I don’t even think we can talk about JRTPD or BO::SOMD. See, they turn into gibberish.

I mean… we can say school. So we can ask ABOUT school just not… specific schools.

That’s true. I go to a special school and am the best in my class. You’re getting lucky by having me as a soulmate.

Well I would only hope so. Need a smart soulmate for fun facts.

Fun fact: you’re pretty cool. I guess.

Ah, the admission of your love for me.

Not love. I don’t hate talking to you if that does anything for you.

The one person you don’t hate. I’ll take it, Soulmate.

Don’t push it.

We should give each other nicknames. Since we can’t call each other by our real names.

Does the book allow it?

My parents did it before they found each other.

Okay. Like what?

I can call you Hot Head, because you’re hot and because you are always writing about how mad you are.

No.

I can always go with something cute like Honey.

This is gross. I was thinking like gamer tag nicknames.

Okay, Honey.

I take back what I said, asshole.

Honey and Asshole. The perfect pair. We could solve crimes!

I’m going to bed now.

Goodnight Honey ♡ I know that you aren’t reading these but you will in the morning. Dork.

“Do you know who your soulmate is?” You asked.

You were hanging out with Kendou, Monoma, and Shinsou in Kendou’s bedroom. The dorm rooms were all set up the exact same way, but for some reason Kendou’s always seemed to be bigger.

“No idea.” Monoma shrugged. “I don’t think I want to know until I’m older, we’re too young and I want to focus on graduating first.”

“He’s right.” Kendou twisted in her position on her bed. “Why? Do you want to know who yours is?”

“I want to know more than anything.” You sighed. Your head was laid across Shinsou’s lap on the floor. “We get along so well and I try to talk to him every day.”

“How do you know it’s a he?”

“He told me.” You laughed. “We tried really hard to narrow it down as much as possible.”

“It sounds like he wants to know you too.” Kendou said. She giggled. “I should ask my soulmate their gender.”

“What about you, Shinsou?”

“I barely write to mine.” He shrugged, making your head tilt a little. “I’m sure they understand.”

“I’m sure they do, they were made to be yours.” You looked up at him with a smile. “Of everyone, I thought you would write the most.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because most people are scared to talk to you in real life.”

He flicked your forehead. “You aren’t scared to talk to me.”

“I’m not scared to talk to anyone.”

“I’ve noticed.”

You sighed and closed your Soulmate Journal, the rain now casting a dark shadow across the entirety of the sky. Your face was flushed in red, hair disheveled and you were still in your hero uniform, dirty and kind of burnt.

Katsuki Bakugou had not only interrupted your victory, but he had claimed it as his own. His desperation to be the number one hero hadn’t stopped. It’s been years, you’ve grown past his stupid desire and he simply… hasn’t.

You fought the villain yourself, using your quirk to it’s full capabilities and trapping them in a circle of air. You fought for over an hour by yourself, taking up the mission while out and witnessing it first hand. Your freshly bought coffee was long forgotten as you raced after the thief.

The second you landed the thief, the ball of air dissipating as you grew tired, Bakugou arrived in a fiery feat and handcuffed the villain. Of course, the main photos were of him with the handcuffs, standing proud as if he hadn’t stolen your fight.

His argument was that he did help. Yeah, he did ‒ for three seconds.

Katsuki Bakugou was a piss stain upon himself, truly the worst of the worst who’s own personal interest outweighs anything else in his life. He will never be anything but second best because he never thinks of anyone but himself.

If only he could read thoughts instead of turning his sweat to ignition. Then you wouldn’t have to put your harsh thoughts into tone.

Your Soulmate was one of two people you genuinely enjoyed talking to, he always seemed to be on the same page as you. The other is Shinsou, from your high school. He was the only one you really kept in contact with.

Sometimes you like to convince yourself that Shinsou is your soulmate, since he hasn’t found his either. But you compared the handwriting and it didn’t match at all. Shinsou’s handwriting was much smaller and neater than the man you would eventually call yours.

“This is so fucking stupid!” You screamed, your rage reaching its max.

You threw your journal across your bedroom, the storm masking the sound of it banging against the wall by your bed. You were pissed, you wanted nothing more than to see Bakugou’s downfall. It’s been years. You were over it.

You were over it all. You were over him, you were over not knowing your soulmate, you were over being alone in your stupid apartment. It all reached it’s apex. Maybe you needed a shower, or maybe you needed to move from your job.

Your fit was interrupted by a loud crash on the roof of your apartment building. You nearly jumped at the sound, the sound not even close to the crashes of thunder.

You rushed to the roof, your hero senses kicking in more than your regular carefulness. Once you were outside, you were almost instantly drenched in the rain. Only a couple of yards ahead of you was a man crumbled to the ground; they must’ve hit the roof harder than you thought.

When they turned, clutching their side, you knew instantly who it was.

“Deku?” You rushed towards him. “I thought you were in Hirosaki for some serious villain.”

He moved to stand, much taller and broad than he was back in high school. Yet still with the fluffy green hair and bright eyes with hope always seemingly sewed in.

“I was. I just… I need your help.”

“Why do you need my help?” You helped him stand fully, taking his hand from his side to check for an injury. He wasn’t bleeding. “Doesn’t Uraraka live around here?”

“I don’t… want to involve her in this.” He stood straight. His healing must’ve started. “I… this is something I need you for.”

“Okay…” You crossed your arms. “What do you need?”

“I know what you’re going to say.” Deku started, and you didn’t move. “But it’s Bakugou.”

“No.”

“C’mon, Aero, I know that you two…”

“No.”

“Please, I…”

“Deku, you know more than anyone how and who he is. Whatever it is, he can deal with it himself.” You started back towards the stairs. “I appreciate you coming to me, for whatever reason, but this is something that you have to find someone else for.”

“Don’t think of this as us doing something for him.” Deku rushed to stand in front of you. “Think of it as a favor for me. You owe me one.”

“Don’t do this now.”

“I’m officially cashing in my favor.”

You sighed, “Fine. Can you at least tell me what we need to do for the asshole?”

“I’ll tell you on the way.” He nearly jumped in joy. “But you cannot tell anyone. Not Shinsou, not the police, and not our boss. This is under the radar.”

“Oh, shit.” You followed him as you flew next to him. “What are you getting me into?”

tag list: @katsulovee @paradisebabey @seaofemptygold @zhaixiaowen @daylghits @haikyuusimp91 @darknessyournewfriend @samwise-though @liaxxx109

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illuminatedjoy · 3 months ago

Note

We know what the canon story is. It's not that complicated. We know Kodaka was not trying to write a trans woman. We just think the canon is a bit shit.

The canon story is based on a lot of social assumptions that are themselves transmisogynistic. Trying to understand the character while ignoring the social issues behind Chihiro's portrayal means looking at it through the same biases as Kodaka and doing nothing to question them. The social pressure to be 'normal' and especially to present as cis is enormous, even more so in Japan. So the inclination of a writer that isn't actively trying to write a trans positive character is to believe that such a character should reject their transition and try to live within accepted gender roles for their assigned gender.

Chihiro is written in such a way that they don't seem to enjoy being a girl. This is true. But they also had to live with the constant fear that being exposed for having transitioned would ruin their life. This means they could have never been relaxed enough socially to really make friends and connections. The social bias against seeing themself as a girl also could have pushed Chihiro away from making friends with girls in particular, because they don't really accept that they might be a girl.

However, the fact is being a girl was easier for Chihiro. To anyone who has transitioned, the notion that Chihiro found it easier to live as a girl but should have pushed themselves to be a boy sounds absolutely fucking insane. Chihiro thought being a boy was too difficult but being a girl was something they could just do. It is not easier to be a girl than to be a boy. It is definitely not easier to 'pretend' to be a girl when you aren't. To many of us, the fact that Chihiro found it easier to be a girl is evidence enough that they are not cis.

Chihiro's transition is written as an act of shame. Do I need to explain why this is shitty, especially when the series contains no canonically trans-positive characters? Transitioning takes a ridiculous amount of courage, and self-love. Having the only example of it in your work be symbolic of the opposite of that is deeply transphobic. It's reflective of how ignorant Kodaka was at the time of what changing your gender is really like or why people do it.

Of course, Chihiro does choose to follow Mondo. He represents a masculine ideal to Chihiro, so Chihiro must be a boy. But uh... there is something about that...

Chihiro fucking dies.

Chihiro was putting Mondo on a pedestal. Chihiro didn't understand Mondo. Chihiro wanted to be strong like Mondo because he stood up to Byakuya but Chihiro didn't know how much of Mondo's 'strength' was really fragility. And they fucking died as a result. I think maybe it was a bad idea.

Chihiro's canon story isn't pushing the idea that Chihiro should accept themselves and just be a different kind of boy. Even in other timelines and such, it pushes the idea that Chihiro has to struggle and push themselves to be a man. The notion that transfem people don't face the same struggles as Chihiro is absurd. We do, it's really fucking painful, but we eventually realize the answer is rejecting the premise, not continuing to struggle our way into a gender box that makes us hate ourselves.

At the end of the day, a core component of Chihiro's' story is coming out about your gender identity, whatever it is. This is something that every trans person has to do but cis people usually only have to do in contrived fictional scenarios. We want Chihiro to let go of the masculine ideal as something they have to resemble to deserve worth. And we know that may involve rejecting manhood entirely. We are looking at Chihiro's story through the eyes of people who have lived it. The trans themes in Chihiro's story can be seen from space, but apparently only if you're trans because cis people don't know what trans themes look like.

I don't give a damn what you think Chihiro's gender is. If the character means more to you as a boy, fine. You can see them as nonbinary, recognizing that Chihiro as written doesn't like being a girl but it probably isn't healthy for them to continue struggling to be a man. Or you can choose to see Chihiro as someone who would be a girl happily if she lived in a society that made that feel safe.

But don't assume we're stupid. ffs

i think the reason people think chihiro was supposed to be transfem is because of the backstory, the backstory was kinda messy because it pretty much screams “yeah I got bullied and got called a girl so I decided to dress like a girl even though I hate it because I don’t want to be weak, I want to prove that I can be strong”, I think that’s why some people think the backstory was transphobic because of how it was written

It's not really transphobic. It's basically that Chihiro wants to run away from his problems, so accepts the girl identity if it means the bullying will stop. But he knows he cannot keep this up for long and if the truth got out accidentally, people will look down on him more. He just can't find the confidence in himself to stand up to make a change to accept what he is as a boy until attending Hope's Peak Academy with his friends and classmates. It's all about self love. Chihiro loving himself as a guy that he can be strong in a different way. But others like the Western fanbase, took it in the other way as if it means outwardly and physically Chihiro wants to be a woman, when it is not the case. Is media literacy that dead from people?

#Chihiro Fujisaki #Look I don't care what gender you think Chihiro is I just wish everyone understood how transmisogynistic the story was #Make your own judgement from there but like #understand where we're coming from

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lady-literature · 4 years ago

Text

Accidental Crime Boss Marinette

Okay so,, I have this AU in my head, right? (not surprised) and I’m lacking any real direction for it (still not surprised) but it basically goes like this:

Marinette moves to Gotham.

She’s drawn there for whatever reason and the kwami are saying something about balance and being a Guardian and her sacred duty and something but Marinette isn’t really listening. She’s too busy trying to find a shop front where she can open a bakery without having to worry about getting mugged every time she steps outside.

Chloé comes with her, obviously, because they’re friends and Chloé has a business degree she puts to good use actually running Mari’s bakery and online boutique while Mari gets to bake and fuck around basically. Adrien, Luka and Kagami are not there, but that’s mostly because they travel too much to settle down and keeping an empty apartment in Gotham is just asking for trouble.

Kagami is a world-renowned fencer and Luka travels the world for his music company. Not touring, but soaking up cultures and ways of life so he can make soundtracks to movies and tv shows. Providing the background and life to a film is more his style than touring the world ala his father, Jagged Stone.

Adrien is having the time of his life being Kagami’s trophy husband. He has no pressing responsibilities he doesn’t take on for himself and he gets to fuck with the world’s elite with little to no consequences. He spends most of his days donating far too much money to charities and orphanages and then causing minor scandals that land him on the cover of magazines.

He has much the same kind of ‘dumbass with a heart of gold’ persona to the media as Bruce Wayne does, only without the playboy bits.

(There is a wall in the back of the bakery, where Chloé and Mari carefully cut out and frame every headline and ridiculous picture Adrien has. He is very much delighted when he learns about his ‘wall of fame’.)

Anyway, Marinette finds herself with a bakery not overly far from crime alley, much to Chloé’s chagrin.

(“What do you mean it ‘just felt right’?! I swear to kwami, DC, you’re going to get us robbed and sold into slavery.”)

They do not get sold into salvery.

In fact, despite their less than stellar choice of locale, they do pretty well for themselves. The only problems they have (according to Chloé) is the army of children Marinette accidentally attracted.

When asked, Marinette tells everyone that it was an accident. Meanwhile, Chloé, standing behind her, will shake her head and insist there was literally never any other option for them the moment that first kid came in looking to nab some cash and a few pastries.

Mari lives by the phrases, ‘kindness breeds more kindness’ and ‘do unto others’ and all that other nice person shit. Chloé just lets Mari pseudo-adopt her strays and makes sure that they don’t steal anything too important in the time it takes her to gain their loyalty.

The kwami stay staunchly out of any arguments involving the kids (and eventually the homeless all along their street and every working girl in a five-block radius). They do so with a special brand of amusement that never means good things for either of them. (After all, the last time the kwami looked that amused, they moved to Gotham.)

The first kid is named Serrure, as Marinette comes to learn over the next month after he returns again and again, getting closer and closer like a feral cat. Other kids come during that time, all of them too small and too thin and too guarded for Mari's tastes. She wants to wrap them all up and tuck them into bed but she can’t. She has to be patient, has to be gentle. These kids are just as likely to bite her hand as they are to accept help.

Serrure becomes an almost permanent fixture at the bakery after that first month. Mari’s not quite sure what she did to get through to him, but she did, she supposes. He can’t be much older than eleven and looks nine, but after getting settled, she and Chloé discover this little slip of a boy is just as mischievous as Trixx and has all the dramatics of their favorite black cat.

The kwami, when talking about him, only refer to Serrure as Loki, even after Marinette scolds them for it. She eventually gives up trying to correct them, it’s not like Serrure talks to them anyway(yet)((that she knows of)).

There’s an apartment above the bakery, which is where Chloé and Mari and all her strays that grow to trust her enough live. It’s three bedrooms, and at first, Mari just buys as many bunk beds as she can fit into the spare room and calls it a day. The kids feel safe in her home, which isn’t too surprising. Everyone thinks the bakery feels safe, feels like home or comfort or whatever else eases their minds.

And Marinette should hopes so. She certainly put enough time and effort and magic and energy into the wards around this place for that to happen. To protect her and the children and all her strays that no one else will help.

But, she eventually amasses too many kids to fit into the one room. Chloé throws a fit about having to share with Mari again—“I had enough of that in university thank you very much”—but she relinquishes easily enough.

Mari buys more bunk beds, and Serrure has taken to sneaking into her room to curl up in her bed anyway, and sometimes the smaller kids who have nightmares will come in and pile on as well.

(There are only a few that Chloé will allow to do the same with her. It is considered a high honor and breeds a playful kind of jealousy that Chloé finds amusing. Mari scolds her for pitting the kids against each other.)

That only lasts them another two months.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Chloé tells her one day before the kids wake up. Mari is at the stove, cooking and baking for a small army while Chloé balances the books. “There’s not enough room for us all, DC, and the only reason someone hasn’t come barrelling down on us about the abundance of children is by the grace of your absurd amount of luck.”

“Well I can’t just kick them out, Queenie! What do you want from me?”

“Either we need to buy more real estate in this city—which I’d rather not do—or you open up the grimoire and start building pocket dimensions. I know you can. I’ve read the chapter.”

Marinette looks at her. “That is such a bad idea.”

They do the idea.

And then Mari adds about a thousand more wards to the bakery, carved into the wood and counter and anything that’s a permanent fixture. Doorways become particularly ward heavy, what with them being the entrances and exits to the hidden realms and children’s’ rooms.

The apartment above the bakery isn’t quite infinite but it gets pretty damn close some days.

This also means, of course, that all the kids definitely know about magic now. Some of them—Serrure—have known about it for a while she knows, but it’s different now. The kwami followed her around most of the time and she doesn’t keep them trapped in the Miracle Box like Fu did, but now that the kids know, they don’t bother staying hidden.

The children, at least, love them and the kwami adore them with all the ferocity a god can give. After Chloé gets over her ‘ew children’ phase, she throws herself into their education (on top of actually running the businesses Mari keeps, mind you). She has the help of the kwami, who act as personal tutors to the children, and it’s not long before the kids start to joke about her being the Principal.

(Some tried to call her Warden, but that joke didn’t last long.)

Marinette has also been telling the kids bedtime stories ever since this started. Old stories of the Guardian and Chosens who fought back the darkness, she shares all she knows of the Orders history with these kids and it’s not until Wayzz points it out to her does she realize what she’s doing.

“Ladybugs are known for renewal. It is no surprise that you are rebuilding what was lost.”

Rebuilding the Order using children was certainly not her intention but, well. She supposes there’s no place safer for her kids than what is shaping up to be the new Miracle Temple. It’s the only haven where they can learn to harness their Gifts and powers, it’s the only place where they can be surrounded by others like them without being thrust into superhero-dom.

Context: about a month into this whole circus, Marinette had realized there was a significant—almost all of them really—amount of metas and Gifted in her little hoard of strays. Which is… odd. Especially with how few metas there are in Gotham.

She had asked the kwami about it, and they have that amused look again. “You are their guardian.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re their guardian. True, you are the Guardian of us, of the ancient ways, but you are a guardian at your soul too. You protect what is yours, and they are yours whether you realise it or not. The children can sense that, so they flock to you.”

And, huh. She supposes that makes sense but that’s also really kind of strange and weird and she doesn't want to think about that anymore actually.

So things are… fine, Marinette supposes. The bakery is doing well, and she has about two dozen-plus helpers running around underfoot to help tend to the customers or run to the store or help in the back with the baking. And every kid of hers has new clothes, their street things thrown out for being too ragged and replaced with something fresh made by Marinette’s own hands.

She embroiders little fairy wings into the clothes normally, because that’s what her cloaked wards look like most times and the kids like it and its technically the logo for the bakery and there’s a million reasons she does it.

It is, perhaps, her first mistake.

(“It was certainly not your first,” Chloé will snark one dayin the future.)

Because now Marinette has an army of magical children learning to wield their powers and not fear them and they’re all wearing what can be considered her insignia and uh oh, it looks a lot like Mari is some sort of up and coming mob boss who uses kids and prostitutes and the homeless as runners. People on the street start calling her the Pixie, start referring to Chloé—her second in all things just as Chat had been her equal—as Wasp, as Yellowjacket, as the Unseelie.

(They cannot seem to pick a name for her, but Pixie is all but engraved in stone. Mari is not sure who coined it, and she doesn't think she wants to know.)

The first time the whole situation is brought to her attention, she punches the idiot who dared even imply such a thing so hard she knocks him out.

Because look. The kids are hers right? And she watches out for the people near her, makes sure the working girls are treated as well as they can be and offers the homeless extra food and a dry place to wait out the storm. She offers her hand and gives them all a place to rest, to eat, to exist without expectations or consequences.

She does that because she’s kind, because it hurts her to see people in need, to see them suffer, not because she’s hoping to gain something from it.

The fact that most of them repay her in gossip or information or bend her ear about the newest goings on in the corrupt elite or filthy underworld is strange, yes, but it’s nice to know what’s going on in the city, she supposes. And one time, Kathy, who works on the corner of Brookes and Gilmore, warned her of a drug raid that saved her an unnecessary trip to the police station so it’s not like it doesn't have it’s uses.

But mostly, Mari doesn't really think about all the information that’s unintentionally or otherwise passed onto her. She remembers it all, because it’s rude not to listen when people talk to her, but nothing comes of normally.

Not until Serrure—now twelve and well versed in the magic of illusions and glamors and knows almost as much about this city as her or the Bats—bursts into the bakery one day and grabs Mari away from the front counter right in the middle of a customer ordering. She should, perhaps, be a little angry at that but Tony, one of the older boys and just shy of sixteen, steps into her place almost immediately, so.

And then Serrure speaks and everything is pushed aside in favour of the next words to fall from his lips.

“Someone took Sophie,” he says and she nearly sees red.

After Serrure, Sophie has been here the longest. She is the youngest of them all, only seven, but oh so clever and kind and while she looks nothing like her, everyone calls her Mini-Mari. If Serrure is her beloved first son, Sophie is her treasured daughter.

She’s out the door in the next moment, storming her way to their base. She has Sophie and a handful of extra kids back by sunset, a little frightened, but no worse for wear. She doesn’t make a big deal out of it, besides making sure that the idiots who dared cross her never do so again, but word gets out.

Soon, her kids and teens and adults begin giving her more than just information, they begin giving her problems. Ones she’s meant to fix because she’s Pixie. She’s safety, she’s protection, she’s the one the people start to turn to for help.

And enter stage left, one Jason Todd who’s all snark and charm and smiles wrapped up in a nice leather bow and tall enough that Mari likely could climb him like a tree. If that was something she wanted, she guesses.

(She wants. She just won’t admit.)

He becomes a regular at the bakery and befriends most of her kids.

Mari’s wary when he first takes an interest in them. They’ve been hurt and a lot of them are still adjusting to being safe and it doesn't matter that this man is hot enough to burn, if he steps even a toe out of line with her kids she’ll make him wish he was never even born.

But, she stops worrying eventually. The kwami like him well enough, but seem to think something’s odd about him—but its Gotham, who isn’t strange?—and both Serrure and Sophie take to him like ducks to water and they’re both good judges of character.

There’s a certain intuition they both have that reminds Marinette just a bit too much about herself and pure magic. Not for the first time does she wonder if they got such strong magic from their parents or if it cropped up in them randomly, fostered by fortune and chance and the magic that’s so deeply seeped into the bones of her bakery it’ll be here long after she’s gone.

And, okay, so she was a little right to be wary because Jason was mostly there to investigate her. Far too many people respect her and are loyal to her and she has a veritable orphanage in her pocket and also Harley and Ivy like her and it just- it doesn’t look good right?

But Jason’s a good detective and it doesn't take him long at all to see that Mari is just as sweet and kind and loving as she appears to be. Not long after that, Red Hood declares Pixie and all of hers, under his protection. She, of course, is more than capable of taking care of her and hers, and the underworld knows this, has seen it, but he does it anyway.

The news, of course, gets back to Mari and she is… confused. Why would the Red Hood do something like that? She’s heard talk of him being sweet on kids, but to claim her? They’ve never even met.

Bonus points for Jason being there when she’s told about it. He kind of raises his eyebrow at her because, huh, that was fast, and then spends the next few minutes talking up the Red Hood to her much to her utter bafflement.

He actually keeps doing that too, talking up the Red Hood. Mari thinks he has a crush on the man for the longest time because of it. Until he reveals he is Red Hood, then she just wants to punch his stupidly handsome face for being such an idiot.

Shit happens from there and things go down and the two spend a couple of months dancing around each other and intentionally and unintentionally ruling the criminal underworld and at one point Marinette definitely punches Bruce and Batman in the face—separately, much to Jason’s unending joy—and she also definitely adopts Duke/Signal as well because that poor boy needs to know he’s not alone.

And it’s just them being domestic and badass and lowkey raising an army of children and falling in love while the kwami and the kids and Chloé are all in the background just yelling at them to get together already!

Which, they do. Eventually. After all the secrets come out and Jason knows about the magic and Order and meets Mari’s other friends, ie Kagami, Luka and Adrien who are all intimidating for wildly different reasons. And Mari finds out that Jason died and came back (which earns him the nickname firebird btw) and that he was a Robin once upon a time but is now Red Hood and oh my kwami it all makes sense now.

Jason confesses like three times via classic Victorian romance novel quotes because he’s a fucking literature nerd but it’s not until he basically spells it out for Mari does she really understand. it’s all very sweet and heartwarming and then the pair duck into one of the empty pocket dimensions they have lying around and aren’t seen for three days.

(No one really goes to look for them tbh)

Chloé definitely teases them about early honeymoons and things but besides the two being even more ridiculously lovey-dovey than usual, life goes back to normal. Or as normal as it gets for them.

And they all live happily ever after the end.

#maribat #jasonette #my typewriter #batfam #crime boss mari #miraculous ladybug #dc #mlb x dc #i was possessed by the need to write this all down #i have so many random ass moments from this au #just scenes taht barely fit together #zero coherency #let me know if yall want that ig #?

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julyarchives · 4 years ago

Text

Watch Me || (M)

→ A/n: Hui x Female Reader x Shinwon

→ Genre: Smut

→ Words: 2.8K

→ Contains: implied poly relationship; open relationship; threesome sort of; blowjob; consensual voyeurism.

→ A/n: Better late than never, here it is this 🥵🥵🥵 story heheh. Special thanks to the anon who requested it! We hope you all like it <3

It wasn't a secret that you had a crush on Hui. In fact, everyone knew this a long time ago. So when you started dating Shinwon everyone was completely shocked. Even Hui.

Before anything happened between you and Shinwon you made sure to tell him that having a crush didn't mean having feelings for someone. Hui was nice and hot, you wanted to hook up with him one day but that meant nothing when it came to loving someone and Shinwon was the one who actually stole your heart. He too was nice and hot but something about him made your insides twist and butterflies go crazy in your stomach.

Thankfully Shinwon got it, he understood that loving someone didn't make everyone else ugly and unattractive and that he too had a crush on someone else and just like you he'd hook up with them if he could. You both laughed about it and jokingly agreed on only hooking up with your crushes if the other was present. Shinwon had a blast whenever you met with his long-time friends since Hui was one of them. He'd keep teasing you even if it was for your ears only.

Hui was thrown back when you started dating Shinwon because he too knew about your crush, even if he didn't do anything about it. He wasn't a close friend but he thought you were nice and pretty as he told you once. So when he saw you with your boyfriend he was always slightly confused.

You weren't always with the boys so when you showed up it was always special. Tonight was no different. Everyone gathered to have a pre-party and get wasted before going out, so you wouldn't need to pay an absurd amount for drinks at bars. You decided to not drink that much and Shinwon followed you, only casually accepting one or two shots.

Needless to say, a couple of hours later and everyone was already pretty drunk and caught up on their own shit. You and Shinwon were lost in your little bubble. Your boyfriend was looking especially hot tonight, probably had taken his time dressing up to go out, but you just wanted to rip that pretty shirt off of him. The alcohol probably had something to do with the urge to just grab him and kiss him with all you got.

You were still in public, though probably no one was sparing a glance at you two, so you just made out lazily on the couch. The thing is that when you two start kissing, you always can’t stop yourself. Shinwon was a good kisser, and you couldn’t get enough of him. The kiss started getting hungrier, your hands messed around his hair when his’ hooked around your hips and pulled you up to straddle him. Normally, you would be embarrassed by a hot make-out session in public, but for some reason it made you feel sexier, arousal already pooling in your panties with the idea of being watched.

Shinwon himself seemed to be showing you off, grabbing your ass and slightly lifting your shirt to explore the skin on your back. He trailed wet kisses along your jaw up to your ear, nibbling the lobe and getting a breathy moan out of you. You felt his grin, knowing he was very well aware that he hit your sweet spot.

“Looks like your crush is watching us, baby” he whispered for you to hear, giggling secretly.

You turned your head just enough to see Hui on your peripheral vision, smirking at you two;

“Don’t worry, I bet he is too drunk to remember anything in half an hour like everyone else is.” you answered, biting your lip.

“I’m sober enough to hear you two, and please don’t stop because of me” you were interrupted, heart racing as soon as Hui’s voice hit your ears. His grin grew wider.

“Give him a show, baby girl” Shinwon hummed lowly and pulled you closer.

You involuntarily grinded your hips when he tightened his grip and were pleased to feel his semi-hard through the thin fabric of your shorts. He tugged on your hair, exposing your neck to him, and took his time sucking on the skin, and you were sure you would regret letting him mark you, the trouble of covering that for work on Monday would be a pain in the ass, but right now it felt too good for you to care. It was also hard to keep yourself from letting noises fall from your lips, as every touch of his sent shivers through your whole body, but you tried your hardest to make sure he was the only one to hear it.

When his lips found yours’ again, his hand went down to your ass, guiding you to grind on him again, the friction giving you some relief and this time the moan that escaped you was loud enough that you were sure Hui, who had his eyes glued on you all the time, heard it.

Shinwon noticed it too, and a chuckle vibrated on his throat.

“Look at him, just can’t help himself seeing how hot you are and how good I make you feel” he said to you.

And then you saw what he was talking about. Hui was palming the barely-visible-but-still-there tent on his jeans, eyeing up and down and biting his lips.

It took you by surprise when Shinwon took you off of him and got up, holding your hand and guiding you to the bedroom. Part of you felt a very small pinch of disappointment, wanting to show yourself off to the man you crushed. But your boyfriend was full of surprises, and one of them was when he stopped on his tracks, and looked back at Hui, enunciating:

“I’m not going to ask you twice to come with us.”

Hui lifted one eyebrow, pleasantly surprised at the proposal, but didn’t waste any time following you two.

Shinwon didn’t bother closing the door, throwing you on the bed as soon as you entered the room, making you yelp in surprise. He climbed up in between your legs, attacking your lips with determination. Your legs instinctively crossed around his hips, making him grind, and you took pleasure in the friction.

You only remembered Hui when you heard a small gasp leave him, who was watching you two while leaned against the now-closed door.

Shinwon climbed off of you and commanded you to sit in a bossy tone that had you squirming in anticipation.

“Come here, baby” he said, monitoring for you to get closer. He tugged the waistband of your shorts “you know what to do with these.”

You got up and, facing Hui, shimmied out of your bottoms, leaving the lacy underwear on. You watched his eyes travel down your body with lust as Shinwon, standing behind you, pulled your shirt off. You felt his naked torso pressed against your back while he kissed your shoulder.

His hand cupped your breasts over the bra and you didn’t miss the way Hui’s breath quickened. You closed your eyes to enjoy Shinwon’s touches, feeling like you could melt under his palms.

“kneel down for me” he whispered.

You turned around and followed his instructions as he sat on the edge of the bed, supporting himself with his hand behind him. You kneeled in between his legs and grazed your nails on his abdomen before undoing the button and unzipping his jeans. You took it off of him along the underwear, his cock springing free and bouncing against his stomach, fully hard this time.

You licked your palm, your eyes locked on his, and grabbed his member, jerking it teasingly slow, giving small licks to the tip.

“Look how hard I already am for you, baby, I don’t think we have time for teasing.” he caressed your head, taking the opportunity to hold your hair into a make-do ponytail.

“In a hurry?” you chuckled.

A hiss left his lips instead of an answer and you sucked the tip of his dick in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and already tasting the leaking pre-cum. You knew alcohol made people hornier and therefore they lasted less than usual, so you quit the teasing before it was too much and lowered your head, trying to fit the most of his length inside.

You hollow your cheeks and sucked, your hand moving close to the base where you couldn't fit in your mouth. Shinwon moaned wantonly and warned you about not lasting longer. You'd chuckle if you could, knowing your boyfriend all too well. Bobbing your head up and down, falling into an easy rhythm, your own breath sped up at the feeling of his dick twitching inside of your mouth, your tongue tracing his veins.

The room was hot, three different labored breaths mixed together made you feel even wetter. Knowing Hui was watching you sucking Shinwon off made you moan around his dick. You couldn't see Hui but heard his intake of breath whenever Shinwon moaned a bit too needy, so you knew he was watching intently.

Shinwon came without warning, his seed sliding down your throat making you almost choke. Your boyfriend didn't relent, hips moving with your head, moaning softly at how you swallowed every drop. He was watching you closely through heavy eyes and you were loving it. Soon enough he came back from his high and you opened your mouth, showing him how you truly swallowed and he groaned.

"I think Hui is a bit neglected, baby". Shinwon spoke and you froze. "Go show him some attention".

Shinwon was spent, laying back on the bed but still watching you closely. You turned your head and stared at Hui. He was a mess, heavy breathing and palming his bulge. Upon being put on a spotlight, Hui only walked into the room, still slightly open, and stood next to Shinwon, on the side of the bed. You followed his movements and only stopped a foot away from him.

"Hi", you said, giggling like a girl with a crush, which, well, you did.

"Hey you", he said right back, hands quickly finding your waist.

"You're too clothed for her, Hui", Shinwon said from the bed and you chuckled, watching your boyfriend move on the bed to watch you two.

Hui laughed and moved to take his shirt off. You took the opportunity to get his pants open and down on the floor. After that you both moved quickly, not quite knowing who reached first but kissing hard and desperate, tongues fighting for dominance. Hui's hands expertly opened your bra and you took it off, enjoying the feeling of his hands on your breasts.

You laid on the bed on your own accord and Hui followed, breaking the kiss only to position you and himself better, laying next to Shinwon, your head close to his hand. Hui took his underwear before moving on top of you and you almost pouted. You wanted to actually see him and touch him but the alcohol and the dim lights made it all too difficult.

It was all a bit too hazy and tipsy, your bodies moving together while you kissed, his dick leaving a wet patch on your panties even though they were already soaked. It was too overwhelming and Shinwon touched your head gently, caressing the top of it before whispering something to Hui who broke the kiss to nod and take your panties off.

"Let him take care of you, babe", Shinwon spoke to you when you looked from Hui to him.

Hui stopped to touch your folds, fingers moving easily because of how slick you were. Rubbing your clit fast, Hui moved on top of you and kissed you once more. You were enjoying it too much to notice Hui aligning his dick to your entrance. When you felt it moving inside, you only felt pleasure, you were too wet and Shinwon's gentle caress on your head was keeping you grounded, just as Hui's kiss was.

When he was fully inside, he didn't waste any time and moved, a bit too sloppy for what you thought but it was perfect. You knew it was the alcohol and your body reacted in the same way, sloppily following his rhythm until both of you found a good one and it became perfect. You moved in sync with Hui and only pulled him closer, hands crawling his sides and back.

You were moaning loudly and freely, the feeling of finally having someone you were so attracted to was too much, the alcohol and Shinwon right next to you only adding fuel to the fire. Shinwon chuckled and Hui followed, a silent conversation going on above you. Suddenly you felt Shinwon moving and soon enough two of his fingers were in your open mouth. Your immediate reaction was to close your mouth around the digits and suck.

"Ah, that's it. You're being too loud, babe". Shinwon spoke and you groaned around his fingers. "Keep sucking them like that and I'll have you on your knees for me again".

You moaned as much as you could, his words making your belly heat up even more. Looking at Hui, you put on a show of sucking Shinwon's fingers as much as you could. You were still a bit loud and Hui only whispered "fuck, Shinwon, do it right", before you could barely move your mouth. Shinwon was still keeping his fingers inside your mouth but now he was pressing your tongue down, successfully quieting any loud noise you could make.

"Tsk, I tried to be nice, babe. You made me look soft in front of Hui. Can't have that".

You groaned but the sound died on Shinwon's fingers, making you groan even more, clenching at how hot this whole thing was. You were thrown to the edge when on top of all that, you watched Hui bite his lips while staring at your mouth.

"Wish I was the one doing that", Hui spoke between heavy breaths, "I bet your mouth feels so good sucking me".

It was all it took for you to explode, white lights flashing behind your eyelids and you held Hui closer than before, body trembling beneath him. Your mouth closed around Shinwon's fingers, your moans turning into gibberish and you even a bit of drool escaping because of the make-do gag.

Hui fucked you through your orgasm, moaning as his own high approached. His voice asking Shinwon to not let go of your mouth made your orgasm last more or even come back after seconds, you weren't sure. You just knew that you felt absurdly exposed and you loved it. Hui came minutes after that, emptying himself inside of you and you made a grunting noise at the feeling, not quite having the strength to moan anymore.

Hui got out of you and sat on his heels as Shinwon helped you move to snuggle him and make space for Hui to lay next to you.

"That was something else", Shinwon was the first one to say.

"Hm, it was", Hui answered, still out of breath.

"Yeah, it definitely was", you laughed, sitting up after getting seconds of rest.

"Thanks for being so cool with all this, dude", Hui said to Shinwon and he only nodded.

"In fact, this wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for our trust, you know. So as long as you don't break any boundaries, we're fine", Shinwon spoke and held you closer.

"I get it. I truly do", Hui watched you and you fought back the urge to kiss him. "It is really nice, what you two have".

"Honestly, it's amazing. If it wasn't for our communication, friendship, and trust, I think Shinwon would have given up on me already", you answered, giving your boyfriend an affectionate kiss.

"I would never", Shinwon made a theatrical move of outrage and you and Hui laughed. "Nah, it's fine. Y/N had the hots for you since forever".

"Oh I know. Just never thought of hitting on her because it was clear you were into her".

"Come on, guys. Love and attraction aren't always together, you know?", you chimed in and they chuckled.

"That's obvious now to me", Hui spoke and gave a quick kiss on the forehead. "I still wanna go to the party tho, will you guys come?".

"If everyone is up, sure", Shinwon shrugged.

"Maybe we can go the three of us…?", you asked.

Hui and Shinwon watched you for a few seconds and you got a bit scared of crossing a line you shouldn't have until Shinwon kissed you on the lips and got up, holding his hand out to you. You took it as Hui got up on his own and suddenly you felt very warm.

"As friends, right?" Shinwon asked, but you could see clearly his playful manners and you laughed.

"As my boyfriend and his friend!", you answered and Hui walked past you with his clothes in hand.

"I'm clearly the boyfriend now", he said.

The three of you laughed as Shinwon ran after him in a small room, butt naked and you sat back on the bed to watch the scene roll. Having Shinwon as a boyfriend meant always getting a pleasant surprise.

#ksmutclub #hui #shinwon #smut #vouyeurism #pentagon hui #pentagon imagine #pentagon shinwon #pentagon scenarios #kpop pentagon #pentagon #pentagon imagines #pentagon fanfic #pentagon smut #hui smut #shinwon smut #ko shinwon #lee hwitaek #lee hoetaek

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fairyhee · 4 years ago

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Chocolate eclairs (pt.1)

“Aren’t you a Valentine’s day hater, though?”

“Only because I don’t have a date and I’m bitter about it, but you can change that.”

🍫optional bias x reader (h/n means his name)

🍫enemies to lovers, kinda slow burn?, flirting (smut in pt.2)

🍫inspired by: 5sos-valentine

[I know Valentine’s Day has already passed but I got this idea while daydreaming a few days ago and I couldn’t help myself. And also maybe I love this made-up celebration a bit too much and I don’t want to accept it’s over. If you dislike cheesy stuff this might not be for you lmao]

When it comes to Valentine’s, people are always either hardcore fans or hardcore haters. While you were definitely part of the first category, you just couldn’t understand how anyone can dislike a celebration that’s meant to spread love. And also, the pretty lingerie, the sweets, the champagne and the sex, hello?? You would have them any day of the year if you could. And if you had someone to celebrate with, in the first place.

As for people in the other category, they could hate it all they want but in your eyes they were probably just painfully single. Not that you weren’t, but you never wanted to let that spoil the fun. So what if you were single? What one can do with a partner, you could very well do on your own. So every year you made plans to do everything you wanted, but on a solo date instead of with somebody else. Love yourself first, right?

So on the morning of february 14th, after you were done with your self-pampering ritual, you stepped out for coffee and pancakes. The plan was that after breakfast, you would stop by the lingerie store and treat yourself to a nice set, then buy some sweets from the french bakery, then go home and get all dolled up for the evening, when you had reserved a table at a pink-themed restaurant, beautifully situated on the top floor of one of the highest buildings in your town. It was definitely among the most popular spots for that day, but you couldn’t care less that you were going by yourself. You could have gone with one of your girl friends, if they weren’t all already taken and spending the day “watching netflix”.

Thinking about the peaceful day that was ahead of you, you had almost reached your first destination. Your favorite cafe held an event today and served red pancakes with chocolate hearts as a special menu, as well as v-day themed coffee cups that you couldn’t wait to take photos of. As you entered the cafe, you spotted a familiar silhouette by the counter. He didn’t have to turn around for you to confirm it was him, because as soon as you heard him order his ice americano, your perfect day was already ruined. It was h/n.

Instead of saying hi, you groaned as you approached the counter. “Who drinks iced coffee in february? You have serious issues.”

He turned around, seemingly suprised to see you at first, but he quickly got to back to his usual self. “Only cool people can drink iced coffee, you wouldn’t understand. And also, a ‘good morning’ would have been enough.”

“It was good until I saw you, so now I can’t say that anymore, can I?” you said while scanning the menu. “One rose lemonade and the special strawberry pancakes with fresh cream, please.”

From where he was standing, you heard a dramatic gasp. “How can you tell me I have issues when you ingest so much sugar from this early in the day? If this is what you have for breakfast, what the hell are you having for dinner?” You wanted to slap that overly exaggerated shocked expression off his face.

“None of your fucking business. Now if you don’t mind I’m gonna walk to my table and go on with my day. If I spend another minute with you I’m afraid it might turn bitter and cold, like you and your beloved americano.”

You were beyond irritated that you had to put up with his shit today, too. You had met h/n at a party during university because of a mutual friend, and you immediately found out you had absolutely nothing in common, except both wanting to excel in your field and to be right at all times. Both of you had strong opinions and just wouldn’t back down. Every time you met, your personalities clashed, and the useless arguments and snarky remarks wouldn’t stop coming. It certainly didn’t help that he was so handsome and so good at what he did (he was a singer in a band) and that everyone else always complimented and admired him, because that made his ego grow and everything just annoyed you even more. Handsome boys always had to be over-confident and you hated that with a passion. The worst part was that he had every right to be confident, but you would never admit that. You weren’t sure what his opinion was of you but you didn’t care to know.

While you were sat at your table, scrolling through your phone and trying to block the previous conversation from re-entering your mind, he just casually sat down across from you at the table, putting down not one, but two iced americanos.

For a few seconds you stared at him blankly. “Can I know what the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m gonna try to convince you that americano is the best coffee.”

“Ha, nice try. What makes you think I would even try it? It’s way too cold outside to drink. Haven’t I told you I don’t want bitterness in my life?”

He smirked. “I asked the barista to put 3 pumps of sugar syrup in it so it can be at least remotely drinkable for you. You will also need someone to watch over you, since I expect you to have a heart attack from all the sweetness, so, before you ask me to, no, I don’t want to leave your drink here and fuck off. So since you’ll be stuck with me until you finish your breakfast, tell me, what have I done to make you dislike me so much?” he placed his chin on his left hand and took a sip of his americano. “I’m curious.” rather than annoyed with you, he looked rather playful.

“Wow, you seem to be having a lot of fun interrupting my day. Glad at least one of us is having a good time. If you want me to touch that drink, you better take out at least half of that amount of ice cubes. After that, we can talk.”

You didn’t expect him to actually do what you said, but he stood up without a word and slowly walked to the counter to ask the barista to fix it. He was so tall, that the strings of the heart shaped helium balloons that were floating around the ceiling reached his eyes, so he walked around the cafe shielding his face with his hand. Why did you find that cute all of a sudden? It’s like you had just realized that his height was very attractive to you. When he turned around, you were smiling at him.

He gave you a wide-eyed look while he was placing your drink down for the second time. “Now you’re smiling at me? Did the sugar from those pancakes get to your brain already?”

“It’s just kinda funny seeing you between all those heart-shaped pink balloons after our last argument.” He had argued that all these holidays, like Halloween, V-day, Mother’s day and so on are made up for purely capitalist purposes and people who celebrate just feed into the consumerism. Besides, his social media posts had appeared on your feed the other day, because he had shared a bunch of memes poking fun at the cheesy traditions. “So what are you doing here today anyway, I thought you were a Valentine’s day hater?”

“Only because I don’t have a date and I’m bitter about it, like you said. But you can change that.”

You quickly looked up from your plate to check for any sign that he’s joking, but he definitely wasn’t laughing. His eyebrow was cocked up and an annoying smirk was planted on his face. He looked so hot, it was absurd.

His proposal, combined with your own thoughts, made you burst into laughter. You were annoyed at the fact that you were considering it. “Aren’t you getting a bit ahead of yourself? Of course I can change that, but do you really think I will?” you asked ironically. You took a sip of the iced americano, hoping it would cool down your brain and help you think straight again.

He smiled. “I don’t know, but the fact that I just made you laugh is a good sign. Also,” he said pointing at the coffee, “you just drank that and didn’t complain. You just accepted my drink and I got you convinced it’s not bad, both at the same time. That’s three wins in a row for me.”

Shit, he was right.

“I love it when you talk back to me, so I’m almost feeling sorry I left you without any comeback to that.”, he laughed. “So what other plans do you have today? What else do I have to try to ruin?”

“Oh, just a bunch of uninteresting things. I’m sure a self-proclaimed cool dude like yourself would be bored just hearing about it.” That was it. Your defense had fallen, you were actually starting to like him, but you still wouldn’t admit it, so now you were adamant to prove you were completely uninterested in him and he didn’t affect you even in the slightest. You were even willing to accept him tagging along when you went shopping if he wanted. Half because you wanted to spend more time with him without actually accepting his half-hearted date proposal, and half because you wanted him to think you don’t care even if he tries to bother you.

“Well, I don’t have anything better to do today. You asked me what I’m doing here, I actually simply came to get coffee. So do you mind if I come with you? Annoying you is more fun than doing nothing on a sunday.”

Perfect, you thought. You fake-rolled your eyes. “Whatever. You’ve already ruined my day, it can’t get worse no matter how much you’ll talk. Let’s go shopping, I know men are absolutely crazy over this activity, so let’s see how much fun you’ll have there.”

“Try me.” he said while finishing his drink.

You smiled and, having finished your breakfast, you stood up.“You might want to have another americano to-go, to keep you from getting tainted with my sweetness. Get up, we’re going to buy chocolate eclairs.”

...

part 2

#optional bias #optional bias scenarios #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #oneus scenarios #oneus imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #optional bias x reader #kpop fanfic #bts scenarios #bts imagines

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itsclydebitches · 3 years ago

Note

Hey Clyde, did you check out Wonder Egg Priority at all? The first ep is super promising, but the series as a whole is one of those real fascinating disasters from a story and a production standpoint that might be up your alley as a thing to pick apart haha.

I’d warn that it’s also reeeeal offensive and this generally gets worse as it goes though.

Hi, Phoenix! How are you and Cube doing?

Okay, I hadn't watched Wonder Egg Priority when I received your ask this morning. Now I have. In a fit of intense curiosity I settled down for a rare binge session and tore through all twelve episodes + OVA in a single sitting. It is now nearly 3:00am as I write this because I, oh so clearly, make fantastic life choices.

A question for you: what did I just watch?

The rest is going under a read more partly for spoilers, but more-so because WEP—and the summary I'm about to give, because I feel like I need to try and explain this to tumblr's faceless void for my own, dwindling sanity—comes with about every trigger warning under the sun. Seriously, if you are triggered by anything that we might think of as a "standard" trigger (meaning, not unique to you and your own experiences), best to proceed with caution.

Right! What the ever loving fuck happened in this show? Well, let's work through this chronologically. Two genius, frat boy brothers (I get their names mixed up so I'm not even gonna bother) are locked in their apartment and closely monitored because of Super Secret Science Research. Even though, I think, they're the ones who created this company. Not important! What is important is that they're bored enough to create an AI for funsies, thinking of her as their daughter and letting her name herself Frill. Frill is the perfect, cutesy, also genius child who has a habit of popping her lips — which the camera focuses on in an incredibly creepy fashion. One day Brother #1 (the hot one) falls in love with a random woman we know nothing about and Frill gets jealous.

"Jealous in a general sense?" you ask, thinking this show is in any way normal. "Like, just of her Dad giving attention to someone else?"

"No," I respond, patting your hand. "Jealous because she's in love with him." Which, beyond the subject matter itself, comes completely out of nowhere. Frill has a line about what you'd do if some woman stole your husband away. I, fool that I was, briefly considered that these two guys were lovers, not brothers. Oh no. They're brothers. Frill just considers Dad #1 to be her "husband."

So, in true evil AI fashion, she murders the wife, leaving only her newly born child behind. Who is a daughter.

Uh oh.

Dad #1 locks Frill in a coffin-esque hole in the basement and goes on with his life. Things are great! Until years later when the daughter reveals that she has fallen in love with her uncle (Dad #2 to Frill). She knows (somehow??) that both her dad and her uncle loved her mom, so if the loser uncle will just wait a few years he can marry her instead! He brushes her off, but the next day she’s found dead of an apparent suicide.

Realizing that this was somehow Frill’s doing, he marches down to the basement and confronts the murderous child they’ve had locked up for years. She’s now surrounded by screens in, again, true creep AI fashion. How did she get all this while she was locked up? Oh, just the three bug girls she created as friends prior to killing the wife. They’re devoted slaves, I guess. So the uncle says enough of this insanity and seemingly sets Frill on fire.

OH and Frill’s subtitled dialogue also puts “uncle” in quotation marks, implying that the daughter was always Dad #2’s??

Anyway, both brothers are now super obsessed with death and claim that they think Frill has had a hand in lots of girls’ suicides, even now after her own death. This is brought into question later when it’s revealed that they might have just concocted this scheme to try and bring back their daughter. I’m really not sure. Regardless, they use hand-wavey science to create eggs that I guess contain the souls of young girls who have committed suicide, then they sucker in other young girls who have lost people to suicide to try and rescue their loved ones in a dream world, saving others along the way. A tomboyish girl, Momoe, lost a classmate who admitted to loving her, but who Momoe rejected. Rika, a former junior idol, used and rejected an overweight fan only to learn later that she’d starved herself to death. Neiru, the 14yo president of some science company (yup) was attacked by her sister before she jumped off a bridge. Finally Ai, our protagonist, is a victim of bullying who managed to make friends with a single girl, Koito, who then jumped from their school building for unknown reasons. They’re all given the chance to bring these individuals back to life, provided they protect other victims of suicide by defeating the monstrous traumas that drove them to that act in the first place.

And you know what? That concept was great. However, the execution ranges from “Okay, that was pretty good for an anime. Kudos there” to “That’s the most offensive thing I’ve seen in my life.” Needless to say, unpacking all the battles they fight would take a lot more than this already absurd summary. Basically, if you can think of something horrible to happen to young girls (and one trans guy whose existence in that egg undermines the whole message of the episode), there’s an attempt to tackle it here.

During all this the four girls become friends and Ai works through her suspicions about Mr. Sawaki, a teacher at her school. What’s going on with Mr. Sawaki? Uh… everything! He’s somehow connected to Koito’s death, he’s dating Ai’s mom, and Ai apparently loves him too because her friends say so, even though this is never actually addressed and she barely interacts with him. It’s all quite the complication.

In time though the girls complete their “mission” of bringing their loved ones back to life. Rika and Momoe manage it first, only to find that Frill’s bug-girl lackeys have arrived to kill them. Why? Because that’s what Frill does, I guess. Momoe’s crocodile familiar (cute animals the girls were gifted to help them fight) takes a killing blow for her and the bug-lady then proceeds to carve up his corpse and force feed it to Momoe. Fantastic!! Building off of that, the next bug-lady who Rika encounters kills her turtle too, following in the footsteps of her bug-sister by, presumably, forcing her to eat parts of its head. Ai refuses to sacrifice her familiar to stay alive, but luckily the suicide she was protecting turns out to be herself from a parallel universe (that's a thing now!) and she takes the killing blow herself, which is done by pulling out the eye she’s sensitive about (she has heterochromia.) So parallel Ai passes on (again?) and the three girls don’t work through this trauma at all, instead becoming more traumatized through the realization that the loved ones they brought back no longer remember them. They’re alive, but the relationship they all had with them is dead.

It’s about this point that the main storyline wraps up and I’m relieved that there’s an OVA to finish things off. Surely they can somehow bring this all together in 45 minutes.

…25 minutes of that OVA is recap.

So with only about 20 minutes left, we learn that Neiru, the only one to not complete her mission yet, has mysteriously gone missing. It turns out she was an AI/clone/something all along, made to replace her sister and, presumably, that’s what caused the whole stabbing-suicide incident. She successfully brings her sister back, but stays behind in the dream world because Frill promises her she can become human. How is Frill here when she’s dead? How will Neiru become human? Isn’t Frill the “temptation of death” or whatever? There are no answers. A flashback finally reveals that Koito was having a relationship with a teacher at another school, he committed suicide, she transferred, she tried the same thing with Mr. Sawaki, he kept refusing her advances, and finally while threatening suicide to get his attention, she accidentally fell.

(So why was she in the suicide egg if it was an accident??)

Except, all this information comes through Mr. Sawaki himself, there’s a whole subplot about whether he’s really a villain, or if Ai is just making him into one, and this show might as well be titled How Much Pedophilia Can We Put into One Anime? So make of that what you will.

A dead character randomly shows up, but it's fine because she's actually just a version from a parallel world. How did she get here? Why is she here? Lol, it's cute that you think these are answered.

Rika, the character who cuts and almost committed suicide halfway through the show, breaks down saying how much she misses her dead loved ones, right after her friends refused to let her go on another mission that would surely end in her death and… that’s it. That’s all we get about her.

Momoe too, though she’s hopefully just vibing somewhere with that longed-for boyfriend.

Ai transfers schools and then one day randomly remembers that she loves Neiru and rushes back to start cracking eggs again because that will? Somehow?? Let her see Neiru???

When I say there are too many unanswered questions to possibly list here I really, really mean it.

Finally, in a personal attack on me, the protagonist with a name that is literally AI is not in any way an artificial intelligence.

And that’s it! Congratulations, you now “understand” WEP. And see, the funny thing is that the off-the-rails, bat-shit crazy aspects kind of catch you off guard? Yeah, the first episode is fantastic. In fact, I think I got through about six episodes thinking that this was a solid, if at times really messed up anime, but I was willing to shrug off a lot of stuff due solely to the amount of sensitive material they were attempting to cover (which is always quite difficult to do). Probably the only reason I was able to binge so fast was because the first half of the series was so engaging. The characters are charming. The animation is GORGEOUS. There's actually a ton of good here that is also worth yelling about. But then the plot comes in like a freight train and I was left staring dumbfounded at my screen as more and more insanity kept happening. Having watched the "explanations" I am now more confused about the show I just saw.

Phoenix, if you’ve bothered to read this rambling, 3:00am rant: thank you. I think? Idk if I should actually be thanking you or cursing you for tuning me into this, but it was definitely an experience, that’s for sure lol.

I'm off to bed now RIP the chance of having normal dreams ✌️

#mymetas

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ccelinewritess · 4 years ago

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the distance between us

pairing- draco malfoy x reader

word count- 9.7k

summary- the first time draco uses the muggle post system, it goes so terribly wrong, and a letter falls into the hands of a girl who was never supposed to see it, a muggle at that.

warnings- curse words, ptsd, anxiety/ panic attacks, depression mention of death, murder, blood and burns aswell as insomia, seperation anxiety (?) and my grammar.if these may trigger you, i suggested not reading.

a/n- this took me a while to get out, sry abt that. the reader was set to live in a canadian town called kelowna, british columbia. it takes place in readers grade 11/12 and dracos 6/7 year. i hope it’s not to self inserted, and you guys can enjoy and relate to it. big thank you to @dracodear for the help on this, love you! also thanks to everyone who left owl name suggestions, all were awesome and i ended up going with @winnsmills suggestion ‘noctua’ ! tumblrs been acting weird, so i hope it lets me post the whole thing. letters are in italics. also please note, this is off the movies timeline! i tried to fit in as many details as possible but some didn’t make it.

the town was widespread. wineries and mountains everywhere, the okanagan lake splitting it down the middle, reconnecting the cities halves by a bridge. little snow and tons of rain. jeep wranglers in every colour roaring around into unholy hours of the night, bustling with life yet all to lonely at times. but hey, that’s kelowna for you.

rain was running down the windows of y/ns most boring class, last period biology. she knew she should be paying attention. she had a high gpa to maintain, and couldn’t afford to fail another class besides french. the last five minutes of blabbering ended after what felt like a year.

‘you are dismissed, ill see you all monday, have a good weekend’ and with that everyone rose, heading to the parking lot as fast as possible in an attemp to dodge traffic. despite pouring rain, the air was hot, and on the ride home y/ns mind raced over every single assignment she had to complete over the next two days, while her hands tapped the steering wheel.

‘english essay, math review, history paper, business management graph’ she muttered under her breath. the town was busy, many students often blew off class to go shopping, or hit a movie, or smoke weed, the possibilities were endless. her house was cool compared to outside, and empty. no one was home, not that it was a surprise to the girl, people weren’t usually home, siblings gone to university, and parents working absurd amounts.

something caught her eye on the counter, an envelope, an ordinary seeming one, but absolutely covered in small pictured stamps with ‘england’ underneath each one. eighteen of them, all different. she knew shouldn’t open it, so she didn’t. at first. but it was irresistible. there was a return address written in the smallest writing she’d ever seen. wogshell, no, wiltshire? she took it to her room, and locked the door before ripping it open. she didn’t want the one time she had something intresting going on to be interrupted by whoever might show up.

her mouth fell open at every line of the same scroll. who was snape? why was this draco boy sending him a letter? he didn’t need his help to kill who? what the fuck was an unbreakable vow and why shouldn’t snape sign it? why was his mum going to see snape? who was the dark lord and why did he pick draco for a task? what kind of name is dumbledore?

what she already knew was confirmed- this letter was most definetly not for her. but newly- she opened a letter from a potential murderer or maybe it was a prank, a sick prank if it was one.

so instead she crafted up quite the response, whoever wrote this was either hysterical or in distress, and needed some sort of company- she thought, atleast.

it had been thirteen days, why wasn’t the letter back yet? the owl still couldn’t fly even about the house without damaging itself further. maybe using the muggle post system was a mistake. but better have it land into the hands of a muggle, who would likely throw it out, than a wizard who would know a death eater would soon be wondering around hogwarts.

as if on que, the door bell rang and echoed through the empty manor. on the porch sat an envelope, with only one stamp, his name in the middle and another he didn’t recognize in the corner. shit, this couldn’t be good. his eye caught the stamp. canada? fuck, this was supposed to go to cokeworth not bloody canada. no one was home so he opened it right there in the foyer.

hello, draco.

i am not snape- nor do i know who snape is. i am also very unfimilar with some of the vocabulary you used. dark lord? unbreakable vow? you seem to have quite the situation going on, if i read correctly. im not exactly stupid, but i do know that this letter was most definitely not supposed to be in my possession. i didn’t know who to send it to, id send it back to you, but you probably don’t want a copy of your own letter. i also know you likely have enough on your plate, but if you’d like someone to talk to im only half a world away, have no sort of schedule and am a good listener, well reader in this case. good luck with whatever task you’ve mentioned. p.s. you had about seventeen stamps to many, first time sending a letter? unfortunate fate, huh ? what kind of name is snape and what the heck is a dumbledore? i suppose it’s none of my business, knowing you likely won’t respond, but if you do i wrote my address on the front. have a good day/ night/ whatever time it is wherever you are.

y/n l/n

tears were welling in dracos eyes, he was floored, in a good and bad way. his task was already going downhill. the letter he sent snape had fallen into the hands of a muggle, who did not throw the letter away, but responded. and snape was likely going to bine himself into the task through the unbreakable vow, which draco was more than able to complete. he wouldn’t have been chosen if he wasn’t, right?

not only had she responded, she offered him help, well distant company, to a stranger who obviously had quite a few problems and she clearly had no regard for her own safety. he couldn’t tell her about the wizarding world. not that he could tell her about anything, she could be lying. he had a task to focus on, he couldn’t write her back.

and that was true- at the time. he had no intent of writing the girl back. and yet he found himself reading the 201 words over and over, running his hands across the paper, expecting them to fade away as he wiped. counting and recounting. he surely couldn’t talk to any of the twats at hogwarts, maybe a stranger could help numb the pain. and as long as he didn’t tell anyone- she couldn’t get hurt, she was to far.

draco was packed for hogwarts, the response at the bottom of the trunk, underneath his clothes. he’d just have to get to the damn school, then he could write all he wanted- without his parents knowledge or ridicule. his mind jumbled together what he was going to say while his friends rambled on. the train pulled up to the castle after dreadful hours and he could barely sit still during the opening feast. his thoughts did falter though, when dumbledore gave his speech, he felt guilty- the shame of his family weighing on his shoulders. he looked around, all his classmates staring in adoration at a man who would be dead ten months from now, and they were sitting in the same room as his killer.

the singular room was nice, he knew it wasn’t for lounge, but for plots of death.

before he began he started making promises to himself. if i get behind on the plan ill won’t write, if snape notices anything about it, ill stop. the list went on and on.

he couldn’t put his pen down, the words continued to fly out the end, was he oversharing?

dear y/n

my deepest apologies that my last letter found it’s way to you. im sure you didn’t expect whatever you may have perceived from it. honestly, i don’t know how it arrived all the way over there. im almost positive you have better things to do than listen to my problems, and i know you had no control over the fact it arrived, but i ask you to please not share this information with anyone. i am unsure if i will take up your offer of amity, if you were serious that is. im at school now, so if you’d like to respond, not that you have to- you can send letters back with my owl, it’ll be faster (and i won’t have to worry about stamps- thanks for the tip by the way)

draco malfoy

and with that noctua was off into the night, and he could only hope that it would make it to her.

droll was running down y/ns chin and she was caught in a dream. suddenly a vigorous tapping on the window pulled her into consciousness, the sight of owl knocking her backwards in a scare. a crash sounded, if the tapping didn’t wake anyone up, that surely did. she almost considered just trying to ignore it, until she noticed a letter tied to its neck and reluctantly opened the window. she’d never seen an owl in real life before, but was aware from school that they weren’t exactly the kindest of creatures. this one just perched on the window while she removed the new enevelope, no stamps in sight. just a neatly printed address, and his in the corner.

from the new letter she learned even more- this wasn’t a prank, draco was a real person, was still in school, and whatever the first misplaced letter contained was true. he had some sort of task and didnt want help, but that was all. so with what she could, she wrote another response. it took an hour and she wasn’t exactly sure what she had written by mid morning.

draco

you’d be quite suprised actually, it gets lonely over here. i still haven’t exactly deciphered your original note, so if you would like to help me understand i think i’d be ready. and no worries about me, my lips are sealed. what is an unbreakable vow, im curious? you go to boarding school? and owls, really? what the hell is up with that? im pretty sure it’s illegal to own one here, but we are countries away, so perhaps it’s different all the way over there. send whatever you want. i do not- by the way- have anything better to do in the slightest.

y/n

he continued to write throughout the month of september, which bled into october before he knew it. he was avoiding questions about the task, just wanting someone to talk to. it wasn’t easy, she was curious, which draco couldn’t exactly be mad at her for that since he continued to write her, accepting the distant friendship that was forming.

he was learning a lot about her aswell. besides french, which he informed her he spoke fluently numerous times, she was a very good student. she was single, he didn’t remember how that came up but made a note in his mind- he couldn’t date her, nor did he know enough about her to be properly involved.

she read a lot of books, sappy romances mostly, couldn’t cook anything deemed edible by anyone, and her favourite colour was green, he smirked when reading that for the first time. she didn’t know what she wanted to do with her future, just not a doctor like her parents wanted.

y/n was sitting in english as her teacher reviewed about univeristy application requirements. only next year they would be getting accepted and denied from their dream schools. she’d spent years dreaming of it, university, and yet somehow a boy half way around the was racing through her mind. she felt horrible about it, the small crush. it was incredibly selfish, falling for a boy with so much going on, he certainly didn’t need her as anything more than a friend to talk to, but he was good with his words, and making her feel important too. her dismissal came and so did a classmate, approaching confident and cocky.

‘hey, l/n’ he said, a smirk on his face

‘oh, uh hey, will’

‘what are doing tonight?’ her mind went blank, any excuse, come on, say something

‘i have plans’ wow real specific, great job, y/n

‘like what’

‘fish funeral, real important stuff, my family is just devastated’ her voice was clearly sarcastic and that was all before she walked right out. no she didn’t exactly have plans, but waiting for dracos owl provided much more company than any date could have. the sight of dracos owl flying towards the pre-opened window was somewhat relieving, she didn’t know why, just the fact that he had not failed yet, and was still out there was nice. she hadn’t had this much company. since last year at least, when her supposed best friend started ghosting her because of some petty shit.

thankfully noctua ad gotten quite good at being discreet when delivering the letters. of all the things on y/ns junior year bucket list, explaining to her parents that she had befriended a british boy with an owl who flyed into her room while her neighbours had a clear view, wasn’t one. she also began keeping a bowl of water under her bed for the owl to drink when it arrived, knowing it couldn’t have been easy travelling back and forth.

y/n

im not fully sure you want to know the depth, yet you seem to want me to corrupt you with my villain with a task baggage. i suppose it couldn’t hurt if i told you about the unbreakable vow. it’s like a promise or a bond, but if you break it then you die. if you can stomach that i may be able to tell you more. how far away do you reckon we are?

draco

draco wasn’t falling behind too far, but his first attemp had failed, and panic attacks were taking up most his time. he never had any, at least not this bad until this year. at least once a day he would start sweating, no matter how cold he was, unable to control his breathing or tears, feeling like the walls were caving in upon him.

that is, besides writing y/n as much as he could. apparently she was being honest, she had no schedule of any sort besides going to school. he hated to say, but he was becoming attached, he didn’t exactly know how either, but everytime he recieved a letter a small weight was lifted from his shoulders, even just when he read it.

noctua was doing the weekly, almost daily round at breakfast with the other owls and draco watched with anticipation as a letter dropped on his lap and owl on his shoulder. he tried to conceal the letter into his robes but pansy had taken matters into her own hands. likely jealous that she’d spent collectively around six hours with him the whole year, and he never talked to her like he used to.

‘ou draco whats this’ twirling the envelope between her hands. the letter had no name, no stamp, only a small heart drawing in the corner.

‘hands off parkinson’ he said while taking the letter back. ‘a letter from my mother, if you must know’ he said knowing that neither his mother or father had written him anything, despite having all the time to do so.

he got up and left the second he was done, not wanting to draw snapes suspicion about who could possibly be more important than working on this task.

he rushed to his room, desperate for more of her words. he tried to picture her voice in his head, but had to remind himself she wasn’t british nor was she from southern america.

draco,

so you just die if you break the promise? intresting. it’s not as hard to stomach as you seem to think, very unique tradition i suppose. you are not a villain draco, you haven’t told me much about it but your to good of a person to have picked any of this for yourself. i calculated when we you were home, seven thousand three hundred something, i don’t know where your fancy boarding school where you have owls for pets is, so it may be further. im ready whenever you are.

y/n

her letter was relieving for him aswell, even in the slightest it helped, but she deserved some sort of answer for helping him take his mind off the task for a couple minutes. he could tell if she wasn’t scared off already, this would do it.

y/n

if you are sure, here it is. dumbledore is my headmaster, the dark lord is a very powerful wizard, and snape is my professor. if i don’t kill dumbledore before july, he will kill me and my family, if i can’t complete the task, snape will kill him under terms of an unbreakable vow. im not a very good villain that’s for sure, my first attemp failed, and my classmate is out cold. i understand if you dont want to write to me anymore, just don’t tell anyone about this, please.

dm.

the only words to describe the feeling that overwhelmed her senses as she read were devastation and shock. tears pooled in her eyes as she tried to imagine herself with that much responsibility to wildhold until july. another detail that caught her eye, wizard? what did he mean by wizard? is that the word for dictator in england? certainly he wasn’t talking about the wizards she read about in storybooks as a child. her hand shook slightly and she debated mentioning it.

draco

you’re silly if you think i’d stop writing you. you need company now more than ever. please don’t hold things back from your letters, you deserve someone to talk to. that is quite the situation, im sorry if i pushed you, you do have enough on your shoulders and i want to help you as much as i can. i hate to ask, but you mentioned ‘wizards’ and i am a bit confused.

all my love

initially, draco went into shock. he knew he was probably oversharing, but didn’t expect to slip up in that way. he begrudgingly admitted; knowing that if this went badly he would likely be banished from the wizarding world, which didn’t seem like such a horrible punishment to him anymore. and yet she was fascinated, by the coins he sent her, the subjects he learned- which she compared to her own much less exciting ones, and everything he told her about it. he could now talk to her about much more, since both his secrets were now out in the open to her. he told her about the about the houses, and they both agreed she would probably be in hufflepuff, well he thought so, her kind and accepting nature, and she didn’t know enough to disagree. and for the first time in the long time he was seeing things differently, completely diminishing the rude behaviour he often displayed towards the house.

she even sent him a picture, the first time he ever saw her face. a large smile spread across her beautiful features, she seemed to be laughing. eyes glistening in the sun even prettier than he could have imagined. he slept with it under his pillow, and could stare at the still image for hours. no it didn’t move around, but he couldnt care less. he only had one picture of himself in his possession and he was young, about four. she was facinated by the moving image, his blonde hair and attitude shining right through. he would owl his mother for a more recent one, but didn’t want to explain why.

the letters were helping him, but the task wasn’t advancing. his second attempt had failed, he was caught sneaking into slughorns party, and harry was onto him. they were also causing him doubt. say they did get the cabinet fixed, he couldn’t see himself killing dumbledore anymore, the more he talked to her he realized he couldn’t be a killer, as cold as he was to some people, but he had to, didnt he?

most importantly every letter she sent gave him a sense of hope. that the second this is over he could move. away from voldemort, and potter, his parents even, england in whole. perhaps not to canada, but it could be a change, half way across the world with the girl who was helping him stay alive through his letters. he just needed to stay alive long enough too see her.

the seasons changed around draco, but his room stayed the same. hot from mysterious potions, for himself and some for dumbledore, he had not had much hope after the wine, though. it was lonely, not that he’d like y/n here, he’d much rather be there, all the way across the world.

may came in a blur, and finals were creeping up. one week y/n sat at her desk, every night, waiting for a letter that didn’t come. on the fifth letterless day she cried. not exactly knowing why, it wasn’t her that had much of a reason to cry, but dracos company had filled her lonely life up with light of its own, leaving it darker than it was before she saw the first letter. she was silly to be so attached and silly to expect him to reciprocate the feelings she had proclaimed in the last one she sent, and should have expected him to stop eventually. so she continued on with school, finding it a bit easier to concentrate now that a draco sized whole was missing from her brain, and her heart aswell.

the next week, though, a letter came, very appreciated by y/n as the whole other universe, british boy forgetting thing wasn’t as easy as it seemed.

y/n

im sorry for not writing, the classmate i mentioned all those months ago woke from the curse, and the potter twat hexed me with a spell id never heard of before. i would have tried to contact with you but i couldn’t exactly trust what my brain was planning on writing, and the cuts are still a bit sore. the cabinets fixed, but even if everything works out okay i won’t be writing very much at all. i’ll be home in july, but the manor will be infested with death eaters and i can’t let you get hurt. thank you for everything l/n.

draco

it stung a little, knowing that the empty feeling the girl just experienced would be more frequent, he didn’t mention anything about what she had said, and that this could be the last time she ever heard from him if he didn’t kill dumbledore. in hindsight, practically telling her she loved him in a letter wasn’t what he needed, she knew that.

he left out the fact that he the spell put a him in a huge emotinal draught. he was exhausted constantly, crying even more than before. the cuts were sore, so he wasn’t holding everything back.

the last month of school came and went all to fast for dracos liking, and death eaters now roamed around the castle, causing havoc where ever they could. his trunk had been shurken so small it looked like a small muggle toy he put into his pocket easily. the dark mark that was stretched across his left arm was now hanging in the gray sky, and the headmaster was no where to be seen. he paced anxiously around a vacant corridor until he heard a pop in the astronomy tower. he didn’t think people could apparate into hogwarts, it would have made his job much easier.

‘harry, get snape, i need snape now’ he seemed exhausted, maybe this wouldn’t be as hard

‘sir im going to sit you down okay, and then ill go get madam pomf-‘

‘severus, harry, I need severus now, go get him and talk to no one else’ he said in a shallow yet somewhat urgent and angry tone.

draco waited for footsteps to disappear, before whipping the door open with his wand already ready.

‘oh hello, draco, nice to see you on this fine evening’ he said nonchalantly, leaning his weight against the wall.

‘EXPELLIARMUS’ draco boomed, successfully disarming the man without counter attempts before glancing around to see a second broom

‘who else is here?’ he said sounding confident but feeling the opposite

‘i could ask you the same question, acting alone are you? you don’t seem supported’

‘no, there are death eaters in your school tonight, and i got them here’ he snarked ‘they’ll be up, any minute now, their fighting down below. i’ve got a job to do’

‘well done boy, if you don’t mind me asking a few questions, before you get on with it, im very intrested’ was he kidding? he knew draco was about to kill him right? wanting to stall, and not fully wanting to kill him he nodded his head yes.

‘you seem scared to act until they join you

‘im not scared, you should be scared’ he snarled, unable to contain the fear in his voice any longer any longer

‘oh draco’ he sighed ‘while we wait for your friends arrive, care to explain how you smuggled them in here? i never imagined it possible, especially not by a student’

‘i had to mend the broken cabinet that no ones used for years, there’s another one in borgin and burkes. montague got stuck in told everyone stories about it, how he could sometimes hear what was going on in the shop and sometimes hear hogwarts like a passage, and i was the only one who discovered what it meant. not even borgin, not you either, i did it right under your nose, you didn’t realize anything’ he said

‘you are right, i didn’t know that. i do- on the other hand, know that you aren’t a killer’

he raised his wand a little higher, feeling wheezy and as though his legs would give in any second

‘how you know that, I’ve done despicable things, you wouldn’t even be able to fathom’

it was dumbledore’s time to pause, glancing up at the sky and looking around the room before continuing

‘draco i know you almost killed katie bell and ron weasley. you’ve been trying to kill me all year, forgive me for saying this, but they’ve been very feeble attempts. to be honest ive wondered wheather your heart has truly been in it’

‘it has, and if you knew why didnt you stop me’

‘snape has been watching over you on my orders’

‘ it’s not on your orders, he promised my mother-‘

‘ofcourse he would tell you that, but it happens to be that i trust professor snape’

‘your losing it then, he’s a double agent, he isn’t working for you- he’s been trying to get in on the action all year, helping me and all. doesn’t matter now- he probably doesn’t even know they are here yet, he will wake up tomorrow and no longer be the dark lords favourite, he will be nothing compare to me’ confidence was building within him

‘very gratifying, we all like being recognized for our hard work, but, draco?im standing here wandless and weak, unable to defend myself, and you have not made any move to kill me, dont blame me for believing you will not, but let’s discuss your options’

‘my options’ he laughed ‘im standing here with a wand, about to kill you’

‘oh dear boy, if you were going to kill me you would have when you disarmed me, not stayed for a little chat’

‘i haven’t got any options, don’t you understand, i have to kill you, or he will kill me’

‘okay, if you don’t want to join the order with your mother where we could protect you, i only have one more question’

‘better hurry, theyre on their way’ he almost laughed which was quickly replaced when Dumbledore said his next words.

‘who is y/n l/n’ at that a tear fell down dracos face, and he lowered his wand almost completely

‘i-i don’t know who that is, odd l-last words’ he stuttered

‘draco dont play dumb now, not after we discovered you are very intelligent. we left some of the security measures from last year that Umbridge enabled, and I couldn’t help but notice hundreds of letters flowing to and from her. i looked into student files, ilvermornies too, nothing, id never heard the name, a muggle i presumed. but of all the things, that had me the most confused. i couldn’t figure out why you would be contacting her, so i did some meddling’

‘WHAT DID YOU DO’

‘fiesty all the sudden, are you? i felt bad after opening this, it seemed very personal, and i probably should given it too you sooner, but i was a bit preoccupied double checking my drinks and all’ dumbledore said handing him the letter.

draco

how is the cabinet coming? it’s raining even more here than usual, all day and night. and don’t talk like that, saying you don’t have a future. you do draco, you deserve another chance and infinite amounts of them. you are just a kid, you shouldn’t be forced to be a hero. you are protecting so many people right now, but i don’t need any. you have given my life enough light in the last few months than i ever recall, and im so thankful that letter came to me. i wish you were here with me right now, but i know you can’t be, so just stay alive, okay?

y/n

more tears fell, he hated being so weak at the mention of her, crying before he completed the blessing his father and bellatrix considered the task to be.

‘she’s right, draco, you deserve another chance’

he was speechless, and could tell Dumbledore knew he found his weakness.

‘i always pictured you and pansy, never in a million years imagined you to be in a relationship with a muggle’

‘no matter who does it, your about to be killed, and im not here to discuss my love life am i?’

‘so you do love her?’ before draco could even think he heard a door open and raised his wand, hiding the letter faster than he had ever moved.

‘shut up, they will kill her’ he said quietly and desperately

in walked fenrir greyback, yaxley, and bellatrix. they made banter of their own, but her words replayed. he couldn’t do it.

‘go on draco’ his aunt whispered into his ear, making him shiver.

‘DO IT, DO IT BOY’ she yelled, in a high pitched and annoying voice

he felt a strong arm over his chest, pushing him aside, and he saw the whoosh of snapes robes and an already pleading dumbledore

‘severus, please’

‘AVADA KEDAVRA’ snape shouted, a green flash producing from the end of his wand, hitting the old man square in the chest. draco rushed over to the edge, watching him fall. it was a long way down.

the rain had sudsided, sunlight leaking into her room during the day. watching the sky at night, failing to find constellations he described many times to her. her wardrobe was mostly untouched, remaining in pyjamas most of the week. the odd time she did leave, she saw her old friends walking and laughing out her car window. eating and socializing felt like a chore, and she hadn’t communicated with the boy since may. he could be dead, she didn’t know. there was no death on the ‘muggle’ news, and draco wasn’t on the top wanted list, not that he likely would be on the television all the way over here. he could be fine, in wiltshire, going to dinner parties and holding balls. or maybe, he too, was sitting in his room staring at the ceiling for days on end. she had now hung the picture of a young draco by her desk, not needing to worry about anyone seeing. her siblings were once again home, but out living their lives so much that it still felt like they were gone. for the first time she noticed his scroll on the back.

‘i was four when this was taken i believe, my hair is very similar, i was quite sassy, im sure that shows without explanation.’ she blushed while reading, it was true. his hands were on his hips whipping his head around.

every day was a surprise around malfoy manor. not the kind of surprise draco liked. not the feeling of butterflies in his stomach when he read y/ns letters, those were replaced by a pit as they were summoned around the large table in the dining room. the first one he attended was horrible, watching his muggle studies teacher being hung above their heads, pleading for the help of severus as she died. he bit his tongue in an attempt to avoid raging about about every comment surrounding muggle culture. each one tore his heart, as he imagined the girl all those kilometres away, the girl he had no contact with, but he looked at her picture as much as possible, and hoped one day he could make her smile again like she did in the image.

senior year was here, and y/n schedule picked up once again. her timetable was full, maybe it was best, a distraction, after a whole summer of thinking alone in her room. draco was on her mind at night, no matter how hard she tried to forget. she’d made friends with her creative promotions partner, logan. he was certainly not intrested in her in anyway besides friends, but company after all this time was enjoyable, just in the hour of class

draco had little privacy, with death eaters in every hallway, conversing with eachother. wherever he went someone was there, until he finally got sick of it and began going to the garden bench. with a book, sometimes, giving some of the sappy love stories y/n mentioned a try or even the poetry books she sent with noctua awhile back, they were okay, but his heart hurt at the feeling of relation in every line. he could only read one or two poems at a time, without tears forming in his green orbs.

sometimes he went with a pen and a notebook. he wrote about everything. the smell of the plants around him, the feeling in his chest when the dark lord called for a meeting. most of the notebook, though, was filled with poems of his own. and letters he had no intention of sending for her own safety. she wasn’t in harms way, though, other followers were preoccupied with ruining weddings and other things they considered fun. he blabbered on for pages, about how he missed seeing noctua fluttering towards him at breakfast. how he rereads the letter that dumbledore gave him the night he died. how she listened to him rant on and on, giving her support no matter how evil he felt. how he found love where it wasn’t supposed to be.

snow was falling once again, he had to dress in layers, making it hard to write often, the plants started dying as cold settled over and his mother no longer babied him like she used to before the death eaters began inhabiting the mansion. he couldn’t keep himself company any longer and gave into the pressure he put on himself. as long as they were careful, she’d be in no destruction- he prayed as he wrote what seemed to be an appropriate response after all this time.

like it had been decades, she flinched at the noise of the owl on the window, carrying a much larger scroll that he’d ever sent before, some parts scratched out and written above. his writing was much less tidy than she remembered, like the letters on the page were anxious for her reaction.

love,

after all this time, im sorry you are just now hearing from me. you have ever single right to be annoyed with me, after you listened to me for months, helping me emotionally in ways i never be able to repay you for. you do not need to forgive me, or write me back. i just wanted to keep you safe. but i needed to tell you everything before it might actually be to late. you’ve probably moved on and forgotten about me, like you should, but i guess im saying that i am alive. i didn’t kill him either. snape did. i thought i was going to be able to, but he started talking about you. he gave me a letter from you that he had already opened, the words repeated in my head over and over. you talked about how i deserved another chance, and how you wish I’d was there with you. right before he died he asked me if i loved you. i knew the answer but didn’t have time to say it. ive read your poetry books, they aren’t as bad as i once thought, i can’t read to many at once. i try to forget what dumbledore said that night, and that night altogether. but one day i read ‘that’s how you know you love someone, i guess. when you cant experience anything without wishing the other person was there to see it too.’ when i sit in the garden i imagine you smelling the flowers, myself picking one and putting it behind your ear. when i go on walks i imagine your hand in mine. youre in my dreams. my never ending thought. i remember the way i felt when we started talking a lot, and how I felt when we didn’t get a chance. you listened to me when no one else offered. not even my parents. i hope your doing okay, and smiling and laughing. i don’t care if we talk about absolutely nothing, i just want to talk to you. i know that’s unfair to you after all ive weighed on you. but i guess that’s all, i love you. draco ♡

well this certainly didn’t get him off her mind. she didn’t need to either. ofcourse she was going to write him back, but she needed time to think about her response. she missed the next day of school, and his owl was comfortably standing on her desk, nibbling away at the water and crumbs. she took an hour long shower, multiple naps, raided her fridge, and had to email the school pretending to be her mum, excusing her for the day. before she even knew what she was going to write, she began on a new piece of paper. she’d have thought longer, but was sure draco would be convinced she stole noctua out of anger.

draco,

wow. i don’t really know what to say. i knew you weren’t a killer, and i meant what i said about you deserving more chances. i will admit i was angry, and a bit confused. i sent that letter with high hopes. i don’t know what i was hoping for at the time, i was being incredibly selfish. but couldn’t help myself feel pained when you didn’t mention it in the next letter when you said harry hexed you. i know we can’t be together, especially not right now, but i love you too. i wish more than anything you were here with me right now, and it was you i’d be graduating with half a year from now. i wish you were in the passenger seat of my car while i drive through the city. i wish you could point out the constellations in the sky. i usually can’t read to many poems either, they get me thinking to much. im ready to write again if you are.

y/n

draco hadn’t felt more joy in a long time. around seven months. she loved him, and that was enough happiness for a life time. he just needed to stay alive.

they continued to stay in touch, almost as if they never stopped talking, entertaining eachother as much as possible, masking their separate misery and the distance between them. he could get time away from the reality that was his life for a while, he thought, until snatchers brought the trio he spent so long bickering with to the manor.

a very distorted looking harry fell before him, his hair tightly gripped by bellatrix.

‘well, is it him’ he knew it was harry. and yet a part of him couldn’t bring himself to letting the boy get killed.

‘i can’t be sure’ he lied

‘draco, look closely son’ lucius said loudly, getting a grip on the back of dracos neck before leaning in and whispering.

‘if we are the ones that hand potter to the dark lord, all will be f-forgiven. a-all will go back to how it was’

his father and the and a snatcher quickly got into an arguement. lucius was yelling something about the manor before narcissa calmed him with a hiss.

‘don’t be shy, sweetie come here take a closer look’

draco was know level with him. the scar was still visible on his forehead, and swollen eyes staring back at him, hopeless.

‘what’s wrong with his face’ draco said

‘yes what is wrong with the boys face’ a shrill voice repeated

‘he was like that when we got him, something he picked up in the forest i reckon’

bellatrix walked away, laughing away at something. the blonde boys eyes were still on harry, before he felt a tap on his shoulder. bellatrix began acting out, yelling about a sword, putting ropes around snatchers neck from the end of her wand. sword now in her hand she walked over to ronald weasley, grabbing his collar and demanding that the boys be put in the cellar.

a different draco would have gladly watched a mudblood be tortured by his aunt. but he flinched at every scream of hermione, unable to watch he went to the next room, resisting tears as he thought of the girl he fell for enduring the same. she had moved onto the goblin- ridiculing it about who got into her vault- and hermiones screams were now gone.

‘youre lucky, goblin, the same won’t go for this one’ he heard footsteps

‘like hell it wont’ he heard ron yell, followed by the expelliarmus and what must have been harry stupefying his father. draco rushed in, now dueling a more normal looking harry, until their attention caught on bellatrix, a knife to grangers throat. they dropped there wands, and he did as instructed, picking them up. lucius was summoning the dark lord when they heard a tittering on the ceiling, and the chandlier crashing. it all moved so fast and harry was now wrestling draco for his wand back. he tried, but harry had already pried it out of his cold and shaky hands.

‘STUPID ELF. THAT COULD HAVE KILLED ME’

‘dobby never meant to kill. dobby only meant to maim or seriously injure’ the house elf squeaked, and draco had never resisted a chuckle so hard.

‘HOW DARE YOU TAKE A WITCHES WAND. HOW DARE YOU DEFY YOUR MASTERS’

‘dobby has no master, dobby is a free elf, and he has come to save Harry Potter and his friends.’ and with that they apparated out, not without bella throwing a knife into the mix.

meanwhile, y/n was receiving letters of her own. not from draco either. letters from the schools she applied to. so far everything was good, except for princeton, but she didn’t have the highest expectations. she was accepted to the university of british columbia, seattle university, even ucla. she only had one letter left, and the large stuffed yellow envelope sat in her hands. she wasn’t sure about it- would she even be able to go to the univeristy of london? it was far, but draco was there, well closer to there atleast. accepted- it read. it was an option, and she still had weeks to think about it.

draco was very hesitant to write after the incident at the manor, the screams of Hermione, and the terrifying looking potter still vivid in his brain and nightmares. he often woke from sleep in a sweat, yet freezing cold. whispers of the war around his house also haunted his mind and soul. he’d walk to the window and look up at the the stars, they were under the same sky, at least. eventually he had to write her, it had been half a month and he couldn’t leave her hanging alone again.

y/n

love, im sorry for being hesitant, but there is going to be a war. i hate to leave you contact-less, but i need you to be safe now more than ever. i couldn’t live with myself if you got hurt. potter and his friends were brought here to the manor, it didn’t last long- they escaped within the hour and a half. with that doped elf, and a goblin too. if you don’t hear from me again, remember i love you. and always will.

draco

of all the letters y/n had recieved, from draco in all, that was probably the most displeasing. a war? like with tanks and bombs? tears were shedding down her face as she wrote the shortest response yet. knowing he most definitely didn’t have time to listen to her talk about schools, and how she got accepted to london, but her parents deemed it to far, ubc would have to do, she’d find her way to him eventually, if they were meant to be.

draco

stay safe, i love you.

yn.

draco now stood at snapes new office, dozens of corpses on the floor, pooled in blood. the dark lord speaking parsel tounge to nagini. no one needed to speak it to know that the man was infuriated about something potter had done.

the information he left was lacking, was he serious? what did wizarding wars even look like? her graduation date was set, June 6th, but it all seemed irrelevant, suddenly picking out a dress didn’t seem as fun as she thought, same with getting portraits taken. should she have said more?

next thing he knew the protection spell was countered and he apparated in, grabbing zabani and goyle by the collar. rushing them into a corridor and waited for the door of the room of requirement to completely vanish before approaching himself. they successfully found harry, opening a box carefully before finally drawing attention to themselves.

‘well well, what brings you here, potter’ draco said, softly, much to his surprise as he meant it to sound snarky and rude

‘i could ask you the same’

‘i believe you have something of mine, and id like it back’ was he becoming… kind?

‘whats wrong with the one you have?’ harry replied

‘it’s my mothers, powerful but different, doesn’t fully understand me, im sure you know the feeling’

‘why didn’t you tell her. bellatrix? you knew it was me, and you didn’t tell her’ he wasn’t exactly sure what to say, nor did he know. harry really didn’t have anything to do with his feelings for y/n, maybe he should have just turned in him when he had the chance, it would all be over if he had.

‘don’t be a wuss draco, just do it now’ goyle whispered in his ear, making him chill the same way bellatrix did on the astronomy tower, almost a year ago.

‘expelliarmus’ hermione half shouted, causing narcissas want to fly out of dracos hands and run the other way.

‘avada kedavra’ goyle missed and weaslebee started chasing after them, yelling something about his girlfriend. turning back around after goyle unsuccessfully casted the fiendfyre curse.

fear was making his body almost rattle as he desperately climbed bookcases in an attemp to outrun the flames. he watched goyle fall, into the orange. yes, he was a complete and utter twat, but wasn’t a half bad friend during dracos bullying peek. his foot slipped, now just his hands were keeping him up, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold on. in the distance he saw the three, zooming off to safety in the distance, leaving them their to die. not that he blamed them, after anything he did to them, he would have probably left himself there aswell.

but potter was flying towards him, arm out-stretched, grabbing onto his own and hoisting himself on the broom. had he already died? must not have, because the heat had finally caughten up. feeling as though he was going to pass out, he gripped tighter onto harry, maintaining his position on the broom. so much for staying safe. the second they made it out, they crashed onto the ground. he wanted to thank harry, but found himself running off instead.

explosions and hexes were being sent everywhere. people dying left and right. giants and trolls and spiders helping, he found himself in the slytherin common room. partially because he wanted to say goodbye, as he never wished to return to the building again once he had the choice. and partially as he was now aware of a large burn on his arm, and he felt a need to put off fighting until absolutely necessary. he entered through the portrait, for the last time. it felt like an aquarium, looking out upon the lake filled windows, merpeople and the giant squid often zooming by. he sat down upon the sofa, where he spent countless hours avoiding homework, plotting against potter and swimming in lust of his pure-blood status that now felt like a curse. he went up to his dorm, where he did very similar things. he wondered as to what he would be doing if he was a muggle right now. picking out a suit for graduation, buying a corsage for his date, but he wasn’t, so he best get going. running his hands along the furniture before leaving, not looking back.

the noise in the entrance courtyard had completely been diminished and draco found his way into the crowd of students pooling in. death eaters swarmed towards them at a painfully slow place, his mother and father near the head of the group. he noticed hagrid, towering above them, carrying what could only have been harrys corpse.

he watched carefully as they approached, trying to wedge himself inbetween and behind other students.

‘harry potter is dead’ voldemort paused ‘from now on, you put your faith in me’ silence fell over the hundreds of people who were know gathered. he swished his robes and turned backwards facing his followers

‘HARRY POTTER IS DEAD’ obnoxious and deafening cackles erupted

‘and now is the time to declare yourselves. come to our side, or die’ even more silence fell.

‘draco’ his father hissed before repeating ‘draco’

he felt eyes fall all over him, gazing expectantly. tears ran down his face.

don’t talk like that, saying you don’t have a future. you do draco, you deserve another chance and infinite amounts of them. was this what she meant? he’d been looking for another chance, maybe this was it.

he shook his head no, and noticed his father had fallen a shade of pale he didn’t know existed.

‘Draco, DRACO’ he yelled, clearly enranged, but before he could continue - a movement shifted in hagrids arms, and harry fell out. in a heartbeat draco threw his wand to the scar faced boy. he caught it, looking grateful as he could while casting some sort of spell at nagini. death eaters were disappearing into the air- including lucius, narcissa being dragged with him.

draco didn’t know what to do with himself, he was wandless and he couldn’t fight, unless he wanted to engage in an actual physical duel, which he didn’t. he found himself in the great hall, asking professor sprout if she needed help patching those up, she pulled him into a hug, unexpectantly. he never recalled such contact or connection with a professor. he spent the rest of the battle helping healing wounds with dittany, and caring for those left in the wake. it was a nice distraction from the fact he would most definitely be disowned, left a family-less orphan at 17.

y/n couldn’t blame him for not writing, he clearly stated that it might be the last time. but every night she cried until she couldn’t cry anymore, or until she fell asleep. how could she like him so much? they’d never even met. she didnt really need to see him to know him, his letters told him enough about him. and she could only hope- that if he managed through his six year without killing his headmaster, he could make it through the war.

he delayed going back to the manor for as long as possible, until he decided to apparate directly into his room. he considered packing his things up, but realized no one was home. he was thankful, he don’t think he would ever be able to fully confront his parents again. he fell asleep in his bed, and slept for 48 hours straight. he slept through very vivid dreams, ones of y/n being tortured the same way as Hermione, ones of the dark lord coming alive once again and killing his mother because of his choices. he couldn’t bring himself to sleep again purposefully, no matter how exhausted he was. the days weren’t much better, his mind raced at unbelievable paces. he saw the dead bodies laying around the great hall, the unrecoverable ones. maybe he should have just fallen into the fire, surely that would have been easier. he was slowly becoming thinner, and always needed multiple blankets to even stay at a somewhat warm temperature, his heart beat faster than normal. he often felt pains in his neck, and his eyes were almost always puffy from crying. he spent so much time in bed he almost didn’t hear his owl flutter onto his nightstand mid afternoon, a small package tied loosely around his neck.

he opened it to see a letter, muggle candies and a worn book. suddenly he felt more awake, and be shot up a little to fast then he should have, sitting on the edge of his bed.

draco.

i don’t know where you are, or if youre alive, if youre reading this now. i hope this doesn’t arrive at a bad time. but your 18 now, so happy birthday. if you are seeing this, i still love you. i think about you all the time. i hope you are okay, and safe. in case you don’t end up writing me back, i just thought I’d give you some random information to keep you company and away from your mind. i graduate tomorrow. i look at your picture everyday. I remember what you once told me about following my dreams, so instead of medicine, im going to study literature and business next year. im staying in kelowna aswell for now, hoping maybe you’ll be able to visit someday. im sure you’d like it. my favourite colour is still green. i don’t know what else to say.

always here to listen if you’d like to talk. yn.

was it actually his birthday? had it already been a month since the war? it felt like a year but the visions played over and over like it was yesterday. it took him awhile before it clicked. the war was over, Voldemort was dead and there was no one to stop him from seeing her. he completely disregarded the lightheaded feeling he got when he stood up to fast- and rushed to his wardrobe. it took him a bit longer than he thought to pack up all his clothes, including the thousands of letters he kept hidden in a large drawer. the trunk was a bit heavier than he may have thought, and he ended up needing to take a car, in fear that he may not be able to apparate successfully to the airport without injuring himself. he quickly found out that muggle travelling was harder than he thought, and security and customs were also apparently a thing that all people needed to get through.

he wrapped himself in his cloak and didn’t get a drop of sleep the whole plane ride. it was nighttime when they flew over montreal, and then toronto. the sun rose as they crossed through winnipeg, regina, and calgary. he didn’t know this himself ofcourse, but he aggressively hit the map on the screen in front of him, desperate to know where he was. he only got an hour of half decent sleep before he felt rattling of the plane landing, and he gripped tightly onto the arm rests. he struggled for half an hour before he even got sight of his luggage on the moving thing that went round and round. compared to London, kelownas airport was very small and easy to navigate. the air outside was hot, making draco feel even more self concious about his clothing choices.

y/n put her hair back into a twist with a clip taking a suprising amount of effort to make sure it looked okay. her makeup was natural looking, nothing crazy but she looked gorgeous none the less. she slipped into her black romper, some canadians didn’t wear their fancy dresses to convocation, only something simple to go with the cap and gown. she arrived at the ceremony, seeing everyone, with excited smiles and laughs, conversing amongst themselves. and every memory came rushing back. they sat in rows on a stage, listening to the heartfelt and extremely cheesy speech the staff made every single year. she’d never noticed how many kids were in her age group until they were being called up one by one.

‘alex can’

‘ruth lee’

and the list went on and on until finally

‘y/n l/n’ the moment had come, and she shook everyone’s hand, receiving her diploma and flipping her caps tassel to the left. ‘y/n is staying around next year, and attending the university of british columbia okanogan, good luck l/n’ her principal said and claps continued like they had and the rest of the list finished sooner, or seemed to go by faster, she wasn’t sure.

draco had never had to find a taxi by himself, but once he did he gave the driver the only place he knew, the address he saw on the top corner of her first response almost two years ago.

y/n pulled away from the school grounds, watching them disappear in her rear view mirror. it was hot with a breeze, but she smiled the whole way home. she’d done it, made it through every assignment and class, dealt with attention hungry bitches, and crappy teachers. the next door was truly opening. pulling up to her house, and closing her car door as she hopped out, she watched her feet carry her up to the house. turning the corner, she saw him, sitting there on her steps, a present wrapped horribly in his hands, looking very out of place in his black cloak. she stopped in her own steps and he hesitantly stood up, before she launched herself into his arms breathing in his cologne, finally together after all this time.

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recurring-polynya · 3 years ago

Note

In tHiaM, Renji mentioned a fictional fateful encounter in which he and Rukia met in the circus. I can picture this deeply. The Rukon has circuses. It has gritty knife throwers, it has scrappy beast tamers, it has a lovely doe-eyed tightrope walker who does stunts so dangerous your hair'd turn white just watching her. It is for Renji's birthday so he should get Rukia being extremely badass and saving his life from a rampaging circus bear. Ideally, Kenpachi is there.

A lot of times, I’ll have some idea for a story, and I’ll do a bit of research and find out that the thing I wanted to do absolutely does not exist in Japanese culture, and I was completely sure that when I dug into it, Japanese circuses would not be a thing, or they would be extremely different from Western circuses, but as it turns out, circuses were absolutely a thing in the Edo era, and they had acrobats and strongmen and horseriding and more. I had so many tabs open about circuses, and almost none of it actually made it into this fanfic.

Anyway, THANK YOU ALOPEX, you know what I like to write, and what I like to write is Renji telling rambling stories of questionable veracity. I put in some lifting for good measure. This might be the most perfect Renji birthday story.

If it isn’t immediately evident, this takes place in the middle of the Advance Team Arc, or more specifically, in the middle of my Advance Team Arc story, See You on the Other Side, where Renji tells Chad a different RenRuki origin story that’s basically the desert bandit subplot from Crouching Tiger, and also a story about bees.

Read on ao3 | ff.net

🏋️‍♂️ 💪 🤡 🎪 🐻

Renji hefted the last bumper plate onto the end of the barbell and tightened the collar. Chad watched him with narrowed eyes.

“You sure you want to try this?” Renji asked. “One thousand pounds. It’s the weight limit for this bar. Once you beat this, we gotta go back to Urahara’s place and pick up big rocks.”

Apparently, Chad worked part time at his gym, which meant he had a key, which meant that he and Renji could go in at two a.m. so that Renji could teach him how to lift absurd amounts of weight with his reiatsu. It was pretty convenient, as long as you didn’t mind lifting weights at two a.m. Renji loved lifting weights at two a.m.

“You just don’t want to tell me another story,” Chad replied, flexing his shoulders in anticipation.

“Whatever, I got a million of them.” Renji took a few steps backward.

Chad flared his nostrils and stepped up to the barbell. He squatted down and curled his fingers around the grip. He took three deep breaths as he stared straight again. Leading with his hips, he straightened up in a smooth, textbook perfect movement, the sinews in his neck popping out, the air around him boiling with power.

Renji wished he could drag Chad over to Squad Six, so those spoiled weenies could see what hard work actually looked like.

Chad dropped the weight and a huge breath burst out of him, his eyes widening in relief. “I did it,” he gasped.

“You did it, buddy!” Renji shouted, pointing at the barbell. “You’re a machine! You didn’t even make it look hard!”

“It was hard,” Chad managed.

“I don’t believe it!” Renji continued. “One thousand pounds! You’re incredible, dude!”

“What do you mean, you don’t believe it? You told me to do it.”

“I mean, when I told you we were gonna work for the big one-kay, it was, you know, a stretch goal. I didn’t expect you to get there so fast!”

“You said you would tell me another story when I hit it! I assumed it was a reasonable goal.”

“I keep making unreasonable goals and you keep hitting them, so I’m just sort of winging it, now, t’be honest! I’m actually really bothered how much you are motivated by my dumb stories. If I had any human money, I would just offer to buy you tacos or something.”

“I can make my own tacos. I like the stories.”

Renji sighed. They didn’t have tacos in Soul Society and he was determined to eat as many tacos as he possibly could while he was stationed in the Living World. “Go get cleaned up, and I’ll put the weights away and try to decide which story to tell you this time. I did bring us some protein shakes. I can’t vouch for them, because they’re made out of stuff I found in the Shouten, but it’s important to get some calories in you after lifting. ”

“I’m sure they’re fine. I like your protein shakes. Oh, and I know which story I want to hear--how you met Rukia.”

Of course he did.

Renji was a man of many stories. He had so many good stories. He had Inuzuri stories that were full of mischief and dirtbaggery. He had Squad 11 stories that were full of headbutting and idiocy. He had interesting stories about his clever friends Izuru and Momo and funny stories about his goofy friend Shuuhei and horrible stories about his horrible friends Iba and Madarame. But Chad had asked him once how he met their mutual friend Kuchiki Rukia, a very reasonable and natural thing to ask, and Renji had responded with a ridiculous story that was very obviously not true. Now, all Chad wanted to hear was ostentatious lies about how he, Abarai Renji, had met the incomparable Kuchiki Rukia.

Renji racked his brain as he racked Chad’s weights. This would probably make the eighth or ninth Renji-Rukia origin story, he’d honestly lost count. He was running out of material. There was a bulletin board next to the weight storage rack, covered with flyers for a weightlifting tournament in Naruki City, the Karakura High kendo team, tumbling lessons. Renji stared at the picture of the girl in the sparkly leotard on the last one. He thought about how he and the gang used to make up stories of how they were gonna make it out of Inuzuri some day. He thought about Rukia’s absolute favorite, the one she told over and over, the way it got bigger and sparklier every time she told it.

Chad returned, a tracksuit zipped overtop his workout clothes. “Need help?” he asked.

“This is the last one,” Renji replied, hefting it up onto the shelf. “You can put the bar away, though.”

Chad did.

It was kinda nice, Renji thought, being in a gym in the middle of the night with Chad. It reminded him of hunching over his dorm room desk across from Izuru, cramming for written exams. It reminded him of achy muscles in a dim Fifth Company dojo, trying to figure out the mechanics of Zabimaru’s shikai deep into the wee hours. It reminded him of long runs with Ikkaku as the sun was just peaking over the city walls. The hours between dusk and dawn were a pretty good time for doing things, in Renji’s opinion.

“So, did you remember? How you met her?”

“Of course I remember!” Renji protested. “You think I would forget something like that?”

“You do get hit on the head a lot,” Chad rumbled gently and it took Renji a moment to realize he just got dragged. Chad was actually a really funny guy, you just had to pay attention.

Renji plopped down on a pile of mats and started rummaging around in his backpack for the two bottles of questionable nutritional substance he had mixed up earlier. “Well, I certainly remember the time I ran away from home and joined the circus, I’ll tell you that.” It was a good opening line, and he paused a few seconds to get the full effect.

“The circus?” Chad echoed skeptically, sitting down next to Renji and accepting his smoothie.

“The circus,” Renji replied after taking a long swig. It was very, very strawberry flavored. “So. I think I mentioned once that when I died I got sent to the shit-end of Rukongai. District 78 of the Southern Quadrant, where your best hope is to die soon and catch an express trip back to the Living World. I was too dumb and stubborn for that, though, so I was always on the lookout for a way out. Now, it’s pretty hard to move between districts in Rukongai-- it’s illegal without a special permit, see, and special permits get harder to get the further out you go. But there are a few kinds of permits that allow you to travel all up and down Soul Society, and one of those is for entertainers.”

This was more-or-less true. It was true in theory, but travelling shows never made it out to the deep Rukon-- there was no profit in it. Rukia used to swear up and down that a circus had made it to Inuzuri once, basically just passing through on their way to capture wild animals from the magical wilderness past the end of District 80, but she had seen it. Rukia was older than the rest of them, and she used to talk about it in such nauseating detail that they had no choice but to believe her.

“When I saw the posters plastered up all over town, my first thought was that it was an opportunity to pick up some quick kan as temporary labor. My primary job skill at the time was picking up heavy objects, you see, perhaps moving them from place to place. Circuses always need help with set up and tear down. I mean, do I look like a theater kid?”

Chad stared at him pointedly.

“I don’t know why I asked that,” Renji quickly corrected, “but also, keep in mind that I am Like This because I was in the circus, not the other way around. Anyway, my instincts were correct, and I found myself gainfully employed, carting crates and also tying and untying knots, another of my many talents. But then two things, or rather two someones made me decide that I needed to hitch my star to this ridiculous pageant. The first, I will admit, was a complete castle in the sky, but what is being an adolescent boy about if not chasing after hopeless dreams?”

Chad frowned. “Well. There’s school.”

“There is no school in Inuzuri, actually, and perhaps that would have kept me out of trouble, but instead, I became absolutely entranced by the glittering star of the show-- a tightrope walker of exceptional agility, grace, and beauty. Her most defining characteristic, though, was her audacity. There was no trick too dangerous for her. She somersaulted through hoops of fire. She juggled daggers. She’d stop halfway across the tightrope, pull out a tokkari, and pour herself a saucer of sake and drink it, while the audience gasped.”

“It was Kuchiki,” Chad guessed, the corner of his mouth tipping up into his shy grin.

“It was Rukia,” Renji agreed, “but imagine Rukia in head-to-toe spangles, with bells in her hair and glitter painted around her eyes, 20 feet in the air. She was unreal. She was an apparition, a spirit. I was desperate to meet her.”

“Did you?” asked Chad.

“Chad,” said Renji.

“What?”

“Did you just… did you just ask me if I ever managed to meet Rukia? Your friend and mine, Kuchiki Rukia? In the middle of this story about how I met Rukia?”

Chad thought for a moment. “It’s two a.m. and I just deadlifted a thousand pounds.”

“That’s fair, and the answer is yes, eventually, I did meet Rukia and she saved me from being eaten by a bear, but we’ll get to that. Are you drinking that protein shake?”

“Oh, sorry! It’s really good, I just keep forgetting because this story is a good one.” Chad took a long sip. “Hey, Abarai?”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry to interrupt again, but I have a question about the bear.”

“The bear is later.”

“Yeah, I realize that, but does the bear die?”

“Huh?”

“I’m just asking up front, because I don’t like stories where animals die, and if the bear gets hurt or dies, maybe could you skip over that part?”

“Oh! No, the bear is fine. Well, he’s probably reincarnated back into a living bear by now, he was pretty old even then. I exaggerated a little to make it sound dramatic, he probably wouldn’t have eaten me in any case.”

“Okay, you can go back to the story now, I just wanted to make sure. Thank you.”

“No, no, it’s cool. I’m glad you checked in.” Renji took a deep breath through his nose and mentally rearranged his story so that Rukia no longer defeated the beast in a dramatic knife fight. “Right. So, as I said, there was a second person at the circus who influenced me greatly and that was the most famous strongman in the entire Rukon, Zaraki Kenpachi--”

“Wait, Captain Zaraki? Big guy? With the bells in his hair?”

Oh, shit. “Uh, yeah. That’s a circus thing, you know. Hair bells. You, uh, know Captain Zaraki?”

“Yeah, Orihime made friends with him, and he broke us out of prison, but then we split up because there was someone he wanted to fight.”

“That sounds like him. Anyway, yeah, he’s in this story, too. I used to be in his squad, you know?”

“I gathered that from the way Madarame and Ayasegawa talk to you.”

“He helped me get in the Gotei, you see. Because of our time together in the circus. That’s a different story, though, we’re focusing on circus times, here. He wasn’t even the Kenpachi, yet, actually. One of the reasons he’s so strong is because before he was a fighter, he lifted things, heavy things. He did all the typical strongman stuff-- bending iron bars, biting through teacups, tearing packs of cards in half, but his most famous trick was balancing bamboo poles on his shoulders and then various acrobats and other performers would scramble up on them and do tricks from on top of him. He was wildly popular, pictured on all the posters. People would come to the circus just to see him. I did not have a lot going for me at this point of my life, but I was strong, and when I saw this guy, it occurred to me that if I could get him to take me on as some sort of apprentice, I might finally be able to use my strength to get out of that shitty town.”

“Seems like a good plan.”

“It did. It seemed like a good plan, except that Zaraki had a very busy schedule of getting drunk and napping when he wasn’t lifting things, and he was absolutely not interested in Inuzuri punks who had been hired to move crates around.”

“So, what did you do?”

“Well, speaking of Inuzuri punks, I may have been a fairly honest and hardworking fellow, but one day, a couple of my reprobate neighbors decided to sneak in and try to get a glimpse of some of the wild animals. The fellow who looked after the menagerie was a little guy by the name of Mameji. Very kind and loved the animals deeply, but not very good at standing up for himself. I barely knew him, but I don’t like bullies, and I owed most of those guys a punch in the nose anyway. Mameji was pretty grateful for the solid I did him and asked if there was any favor he could do me in return. Naturally, I asked if he knew Zaraki, but unfortunately, he was terrified of the guy, so I told him I was just happy to do a good deed and make a friend.”

“You should have asked him if he knew Rukia. Rukia likes animals.”

“You’re very smart, Sado, but remember that this story is about me, not you. It didn’t matter anyway, because the next day, he comes to find me and says there’s someone who wants to talk to me. I can’t imagine who he means, aside from holding out hope that maybe he did know Zaraki after all and was just slow-rolling me.”

“But it was Rukia.”

“It was. Mameji leads me over to the area where the animals are kept, and there, in a blue kimono embroidered with silver stars and crystals in her hair, was The Fearless Rukia.” Rukia’s circus stories were usually at least seventy-five percent descriptions of her outfits, and Renji felt obligated to keep up that detail. “‘You helped my friend out,’ she says to me. ‘I appreciate that.’ And I replied something very smooth and suave, like, ‘I like the way you do cartwheels’ or possibly just “Guuuuuuh.’ And then she says, ‘I hear you’re interested in Zaraki, what’s up with that?’ and as you know, I’m much better at talking about muscle stuff, so I explain about picking up heavy things and Inuzuri and my ambition to join the circus and she just listens carefully, nodding from time to time. She makes me pick up a few barrels and then Mameji, for good measure, and finally, she nods and says, ‘You’re pretty strong and I like your hair. Come back here tomorrow. I’m going to help you impress Zaraki.’”

Chad’s eyes sparkled with anticipation.

“So, the next day, I came back, like she said, and Mameji was there, too and they’ve got this big sack of yams. I’ve told you before about eatin’ in Soul Society, right?”

Chad nodded and belatedly took another gulp of his shake.

“My initial thought was that they were gonna try to bulk me up. Raw yams may not sound very exciting to you, but after years of living on near-moldy rice and the occasional sad vegetable or bony fish, I was watering at the mouth. ‘You’re gonna feed these yams to Sunny,’ says Rukia. ‘Who?’ says I. ‘His stage name is Brawler,’ says Rukia, ‘But he’s a good boy so Mameji and I call him Sunny. It’s a joke. Because he’s a moon bear.’ Brawler, you see, was the second scariest thing in the circus, right after Zaraki-- the biggest, ugliest moon bear you can possibly imagine, probably 200 kilograms. A lot of circus bears do tricks-- balance on balls or some shit, but Brawler’s only trick was looking mean as Hell. Sometimes they’d throw him a deer haunch and he’d eat it in a real gross way, I guess people like seeing stuff like that. I, like most people growing up on the southern border of the Rukon, had a healthy fear of large carnivores, but I had a much larger fear of looking like a weenie in front of Rukia, and I was determined I was gonna do whatever she told me to. The first time wasn’t so bad-- I just tossed the yams in and he snuffled over and gave me the hairy eyeball before snorfling them up. We did that the next day, too, but the day after that, Mameji took me into his enclosure to give him his yams. I was a little surprised, you see, because I would have expected a bear like that to eat meat or something like that, but he sure did like those yams.”

“Moon bears are omnivores,” Chad supplied. “They like sweet things.”

“You’re right, and I later found out that Sunny did get meat and other stuff at other times of day, but yams were his absolute favorite thing. Again, Rukia did not tell me this, because Rukia often neglects to tell me important things. I found all of this to be absolutely terrifying, and I probably would have given up and stuck to my crate moving, except that Rukia and Mameji were just about the nicest and amazing people I had ever met. They let me hang out with them for a bit and they told me stories about traveling with the circus and I told them about Inuzuri. They introduced me to their other friends, Fujimaru, who could do all sorts of knife throwing tricks, and Kosaburou, who had the most beautiful singing voice you could possibly imagine. By the time Rukia asked me to give Sunny the yams right out of my hand, I was doin’ it, not because I was desperate to get out of Inuzuri, but because I was desperate to do anything to stay with my new friends.”

Renji paused and pretended to be interested in his protein shake. Usually, he tried to fill these stories with a lot of daring-do and badassery, but he’d gotten a little off-track when had to junk his big exciting Rukia versus Bear fight scene. All he could think of was lying around the squat on miserable rainy days, one-upping each other with stories about their ridiculous circus acts. He hadn’t thought about those days-- hadn’t let himself think about those days-- in years. What a sap he was turning into. Maybe it was because Rukia was back in his life. Maybe it was because there was a war coming, a war he might not make it through. Maybe it was because it was two a.m.

“I know how that feels,” Chad said very quietly, so quietly that Renji almost didn’t catch it, and it occurred to Renji that maybe sometimes it helped to hear a sappy story at 2 a.m.

Renji snorted softly. “So, the day before the circus was set to pack up, Rukia explains her big plan to me. Up until now, I’ve sort of been assuming that this is all an exercise in building courage or some gonzo shit like that, but it turns out it’s very straightforward. Zaraki’s dream the whole time he’s been in the circus is to pick up Sunny as part of his act, except that Sunny has zero interest in being picked up and ends up chewing on Zaraki’s head every time he tries. If Zaraki had ever bothered asking Mameji for help, maybe he could have tried the old yam trick himself, but then this wouldn’t be much of a story.

“I wait ‘til the big guy is done with his nap and is prepping for the night’s performance, inventorying his lead pipes and such, and I go up to him and I say, ‘Zaraki the Great, I am very strong, you should take me on as your apprentice!’ Now, Rukia had seen people do this to him before, and she knew that he always came back with ‘Oh, yeah? Do something to impress me, then.’ Of course, I was prepared, and I said, ‘I am going to pick up Brawler, would that do it?’ and Zaraki laughs in my face and says ‘If you can do that, I will definitely take you on, kid.’”

Chad’s face had split into a huge grin and he leaned forward in anticipation.

“We go over to Sunny’s pen, and of course, Mameji’s already given him his dinner and he’s feelin’ real fat and happy when he sees his old yam buddy Renji coming. I slip him a yam that I had tucked in my sleeve and I start rubbin’ his side, which is a thing we’d been practicin’. He leans into it, ‘cause he was a big, itchy boy, and I just… flipped him and picked him up like a baby.” Renji made a scooping motion to demonstrate. Chad’s face absolutely lit up. “He was incredibly heavy and also he did not really like that,” Renji continued, “but I put him down right away and gave him another yam and he forgave me. Zaraki was laughin’ his ass off, but he kept his word and got me signed on as a Strongman-in-Training. We went on to have many more adventures, both me an’ Zaraki and me an’ Rukia an’ Mameji an’ Kosaburou and Mameji.”

“And Sunny.”

“Sunny continued to be a hideous, angry bear for the crowds, but I kept giving him yams and never picked him up again and we were great friends for the time we spent together in the circus.”

Chad sat back, smiling his usual inscrutable smile. “Thank you, Abarai. That was a really good one.”

Renji cocked an eyebrow at him. “Was it?”

“Yes. It had friendships and a nice bear and I felt like Rukia would really appreciate the effort you put into describing all her outfits. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t true, but it was a good story.”

Renji heaved a big sigh, as though he’d honestly thought Chad was gonna buy it this time. He stretched his arms and legs out in front of him. “Let’s go home. I could go for a few hours of sleep before the Shouten Shouting starts. You’re taking a rest day tomorrow, but don’t forget to stretch.”

“The last time I had a rest day, you came over and you taught me some stuff about reiryouku.”

“Did I?” Renji frowned.

“Can we do that again? You said you would try to explain how flash step works.”

Shit, he did remember promising that. He’d just gotten overenthusiastic because it was nice to be the guy who knew things for a change. On the other hand, he also remembered the enthusiasm of going to school for the first time and wanting to know everything, and could hardly fault Chad for the same. “Sure,” he agreed. “After noon.”

“Let’s make it noon,” Chad amended. “I’ll make you tacos.”

“That,” replied Renji, “is a deal.”

#renji's birthday 2k21 #my writing #chad-renji brotp #i honestly hope that over in soul society rukia shot awake #she gets a +2 to badassery every time renji tells a story about her

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itsmeevie01 · 4 years ago

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Bio!Dad Bruce Month Day 8- Driving!

Marinette smiled at her brother as he helped her unload her bags from the car. When he had called and asked if she wanted to come visit for a month, the fifteen-year-old had jumped at the chance to get out of Paris. When she had landed, the first thing she had done was take a deep breath and started to process everything that had happened over the school year. At the sound of Tim scrambling down to give her a hug, Marinette brought herself back to the present. The taller teen caught her up in a hug and she clung to him and giggled. When he put her down, Marinette turned at towards the sound of measured steps nearing the group. The boy approaching her scowled and crossed his arms. Marinette shook her head fondly at him and waved.

She knew that Damien wasn’t her biggest fan, but she still tried her hardest to get along with the youngest in the family. While she had been greeting Damien, Cass had made her way over, and moved Tim out of the way. Once the girls had reunited, Marinette made to pick up her bags, only to have three sets of hands reach to stop her. With a huff, the noirette set her gaze on her younger brother. “Well, Damian, shall we?” the boy looked her over with sharp green eyes and nodded.

” Yes, sister, we shall.” The duo made their way up the drive to the manor, where Alfred was standing and watching them with a fond smile.

As they made their way closer, Marinette studied the butler. When she had, once, asked how long her had been taking care of the family, the man had smiled at her and simply said “A very long time now, Miss Marinette.” No matter who she asked, that was the clearest answer she could get.

Dick, Cass, and Tim soon followed, each carrying a bag. While Marinette had insisted that she didn’t need the extra bags, Dick had insisted that she pack an absurd amount of clothing. He had promised the extra bags would be paid for, and that was that. Marinette was not pleased, to say the least, but had reluctantly agree to her brother’s wishes.

At dinner that evening, Marinette was surprised to be greeted by Jason plopping down across form her. When she cast an uncertain glance at the chair that belonged to Bruce, Jason smirked. “B had to leave the country for something and took Duke with him. Suddenly, I had an open invitation to the manor again.” At her unimpressed response the young adult grinned. “I can’t wait to raise hell while mi here.” At Jason’s proclamation, Dick cleared his throat.

“actually, you won’t be raising hell, because none of us are going to be here.” At the looks of shock that were flooding the table, Dick smirked. “The reason we are all here is…DRUM ROLL PLEASE” Tim rolled his eyes but obliged the oldest, “we are going on a family vacation!” Damien groaned and Cass smiled.

“Dam it Dick, really?” came from Tim, while Jason shook his head in disbelief. Marinette, on the other hand blinked in confusion.

“what…what do you mean, a vacation? Is that why you had me pack an absurd amount of stuff?”

“Correct! And we are going to have so! Much! Fun!” At Dick’s excitement, Tim rolled his eyes and leaned over to whisper to Marinette

“how likely is it that someone is in the emergency room by the end of the first week?” She shook her head in response,

“that’s not even worth betting over.” Tim huffed at the ease she had used to cut off his train of thought.

“50 bucks say we are taking a plane.”

“I say were carpooling. Dick would see it as family bonding.”

“done. When your handing over the money, just remember to be thankful that we aren’t cooped up in tin cans with the rest of the hoard for weeks on end.”

“and when you hand over your money, make sure we are in the same car. I want a little bit of sanity on this trip.” The teens shook on their bet and turned to see the rest of the family looking at them, obviously wondering what exactly had taken place. Marinette flashed a smile at them, “sorry, did you need something?”

The next morning when Dick went around knocking on doors and waking up the family, only two went left unopened. When he bounded into the kitchen however, he found two pairs of blue eyes watching him from the table, coffee mugs in hand. He shook his head and moved to pour a bowl of cereal. When he turned back towards the table, he found them still looking at him. “yes?” it seemed that his question was all that was needed to prompt them.

“where are we going?” Tim started them off.

“it’s a surprise”

“when do we leave?” Marinette cut in before he had time to finish talking.

“two hours. Alfred packed everyone’s bags on the sly.”

“how long is the trip?” Marinette again.

“a few weeks. Why? Afraid you’ll miss Gotham?”

“when is our flight?” Tim, who was asking with quite a lot of hope

“who said anything about a flight?”

“shit.” At Tim’s face, Dick looked surprised. Marinette however, looked practically gleeful.

“looks like I won that bet! Hand it over, brother.” The pain on the seventeen-year-olds face was laughable.

“but- “

“Tim! 50. Dollars.”

“he hasn’t said we are taking the cars yet!”

“its implied, you genius. Honestly, I thought you were supposed to be the smart one!” Tim halfheartedly glared at her as he handed over a crisp $50 and returned to his coffee. Before Dick could ask any more questions, Jason and Cass mad their presence know, while Damian followed a few minutes later.

When Alfred had helped Dick usher the rest of the family over to two cars, he turned to face them with a big smile. While they jostled each other, Steph climbed out of her car and hurried over, looking very pleased with herself. She paused by one of the cars and deposited her bag before joining them.

“alright, now that everyone is here, lets get started. We have two cars and will be rotating through drivers. Sorry, Damian and Net, you two are forbidden form touching the wheel. Now, I have decided on our seating arrangements already. Jason, Tim, and Ste- “

“and Little Bit. Marinette rides with us.” Dick blinked at the interruption and tried to protest only to see the other three nodding at Tim’s proclamation. He sighed.

“fine. Damian, Cass. You two will ride with me. If something comes up, we’ll rearrange. Now, today we are going to make it our goal to get closer to the middle of the country. After that, we will re-evaluate and pick a destination. Load up!”

The first four hours were fine. No, they were more than fine. Then, Jason got bored and started to play music to get on the other’s nerves. When he got banished to the back, Stephanie pounced at the chance to move up front and keep Tim company. In theory, it was a good idea. That is, until the blonde demanded that they stop every half hour for food. After the third pitstop, Tim moved her stuff in the back and kidnapped Marinette’s phone. When the others reconvened, there was a slight scuffle before they realized that Tim had made the call. Since neither of the others wanted to drive, Marinette happily settled into the passenger seat. The next three hours when by quickly. By the time Tim pulled over for gas, Jason and Steph had fallen asleep. While he took care of the car, Marinette slipped into the convince store and restocked on snacks and drinks. Tim grinned at her collection that she hauled out. “magnum bars? Really?”

“yup. Best ice cream you can find.” He snorted at her,

“maybe out here in the middle of nowhere. When we get home, remind me to take you for the good stuff.” The girl rolled her eyes and plopped back into her seat.

“let’s go, before Dick thinks we died.”

The next morning, when they all piled back into the cars, the other car called. After a loud…conversation, they settled on working towards St. Louis, and going from there. Once the groups were well and truly on the road again, Jason started them on games. First was truth or dare. After that was never have I ever, food edition. (A/N-when my friends car trip, we play this. Instead of a shot, you eat. That’s all.) after the four had exhausted all of their tame, non-hero topics, the Gotamites started to slip some of their exploits that Marinette Was Not Supposed to Know About into the game. Once they had gotten as far as they could without revealing their secret identities as the Vigilante Bats of Gotham, they moved on to telling embarrassing stories. After lunch, where they stopped and switched drivers, Tim and Marinette got into a debate over a shared book series, while Jason and Steph played loud music and sang off key up front. After dinner, when they switched back, Jason and Steph once again fell asleep.

Two hours out from St. Louis, Tim turned to his little sister. “Hey Little Bit, how would you like to drive for a bit? I know you have your permit.” Marinette threw a glance over her shoulder and grinned at him.

“are you sure? Dad won’t ride with me when I drive. He says I’m worse than Jason.” Tim sniggered at the face she made while imitating their father.

“as long as we don’t die permanently, we should be fine. Its late enough that you should be ok to drive.” The smile she shot his way made Tim decide immediately that whatever happened during the next two hours, he would do the best he could to let her drive again.

An hour and a half, Tim wasn’t sure if he was right to give the keys to his sister. Somehow, they had beat Dick to the hotel. As Jason and Steph yawned and stretched, the other two made their way towards their hotel for the night. When Dick pulled up 45 minutes later, they had made their way inside, and Jason and Steph had already crashed in their respective rooms. Marinette was sitting in the room she was sharing with Cass while chatting with Tim, who looked a little pale. When Dick stopped by to gather the keys for the room he was sharing with Damian, he shot his brother a worried look.

The next morning, when Dick admitted that it would probably be good to switch up the cars, Jason and Steph jumped at the chance to switch cars. In return, Cass joined the other teens. Without the presence of anyone top pretend at being an adult, the three were able to mess around. When they checked their GPS, the group realized they not only had they been speeding, but they were quite far further than they had planned for lunch. After looking up the nearest food, Tim turned to Marinette and held out the keys. When Cass realized what was going on, she sniggered. That evening, the trio beat the others by over an hour. When asked, they all shrugged and said that they were just having fun.

Two weeks later, after the siblings had returned to the manor, Tim offered to bring Marinette with him while he ran into WE to pick up some paperwork. When the girl had nodded, her brother had grinned and tossed her the keys. At Dick’s shocked splutter, Tim turned and raised an eyebrow at his brother.

“what? Little Bit knows how to drive.” Dick shook his head fervently.

“Tim no! B said that Net was Not to Touch the Keys Unless It Was an Emergency!” Tim sniggered, and Cass who had been listening to their interaction, rolled her eyes. At Dick’s offended look, she looked to Tim. He sighed.

“Dick, she drove for as much of our trip as I did. Plus, I promised her ice cream.”

Dick Grayson’s shouting that followed the duo as they sped out of the drive could be heard echoing for miles, but neither sibling cared.

#b!dbwm #b!dbwm2020 #maribat #My writing #miraculous ladybug #this just apeared #oops #Mari is 15 here #yes i skipped over Damian joining the fam #we will get there #ml x dc

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riasei · 5 years ago

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Fuck Buddies

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem! reader

warnings: smut, cursing

word count: 5,093

note: I honestly didn’t expect to be back so soon with more filth, but here we are. I’m definitely going to hell for this one, considering I wrote most of it while my family was watching Easter mass downstairs :) but hey, I’ll see ya’ll there considering you guys are reading this. This is pure self-indulgence, and I have no regrets.

summary: Despite only being fuck buddies, Katsuki feels the need to remind you of your place.

°✩❇✩°

The heavy boom of bass resounds off the walls of the club, sending fire alight through your veins. Multicolored strobe lights flash across sweaty bodies on the dance floor, illuminating everyone in a provocative glow. Off to the side, you occupy a seat at the rather empty bar, fidgeting with a half-empty glass.

Suddenly, a hot body slams into your side, sweaty skin pressing against your own exposed flesh. A loud giggle explodes from the culprit, and you turn to see your close friend, Mina, has come up next to you. The pink-haired girl stumbles slightly before hoisting herself up into a seat and grinning at you toothily.

Mina is quick to order herself a drink, downing half of it in one go. Your friend turns to you and shouts your name to gain your attention over the music. “Where’s Blasty? Has anyone heard from that guy?” She asks, referring to a certain explosive blonde.

You take your bottom lip in between your teeth, chewing on the already chapped flesh. Katsuki was supposed to meet you and your friends here almost an hour ago, but he hasn’t arrived. According to your phone, he hasn’t read any of the messages you’ve sent him either.

With a little shrug, you give a halfhearted answer. “I have no idea. Why the hell would I know?”

The pink-haired girl flashes you a knowing smile. “Oh, I don’t know… You two have gotten pretty close lately.”

You grumble. “The hell we have!”

Thoughts start running rabid around your head. Obviously, you’re lying to Mina. Over the past few months, you and Katsuki have certainly gotten close. At first, it was nothing more than late-night drinking together, ranting about the struggles of hero work.

After several nights filled with booze and an absurd amount of yelling on the blonde’s part, things changed. Katsuki had a particularly rough time at work one day, and he needed to take his intense frustrations out on something. That something just happened to be you. For hours, the explosive hero ravaged you, his calloused hands gripping your hips with bruising force as he thrust his delicious cock into you. The mere thought of that night is enough to make you throb.

From that time on, the two of you formed a mutual understanding. Essentially, you and Katsuki became fuck buddies. Whenever either of you needed to let off a little steam, you would go to one another. Apparently, the increasing amount of time you and Katsuki started to spend together didn’t go unnoticed by your friends, considering the way Mina is currently eyeing you.

“You keep telling yourself that,” The girl mutters playfully, the corner of her lips rising in a devious smirk.

In the seat next to you, Mina finishes her drink and abruptly stands. She stumbles again, falling into your body and placing her hands on your very exposed thighs for support. The girl giggles an apology before straightening herself and grabbing your hand. “Well, let’s go dance!” She announces, lifting you up. “You can’t just wait at the bar until that idiot shows up. Let loose and have fun!”

Your eyes widen slightly, and Mina cackles at your expression. Before you have a chance to pull away, the girl has already hauled you towards the dance floor, thrusting you into a circle made up of your other friends that had come along.

Denki and Hanta cheer at your arrival, coming up to either side of you and pulling you into a ridiculous dance. Their laughter can be heard even over the obnoxiously loud music, and without realizing it, you are joining them in their fun. Briefly, Eijirou comes up to ask where is best friend is, and he looks crestfallen when you say you don’t know.

Filled with newfound energy, you stay out on the dance floor, swaying your hips in time to the music and running your hands down your body. Feeling daring, mostly due to the alcohol you ingested earlier, you begin to grind back, accentuating your physique. With your free hands, you run them up your body, and along the curves your outfit emphasizes. Eventually, Mina comes up behind you, playfully smacking your ass, and you play along, grinding into her further. Around you, your friends whoop and cheer at your antics.

Towards the edge of the circle, Shouto is off to the side, halfheartedly moving to the music. Grinning, you head over to him, mischief playing on your delicate features. The boy immediately becomes suspicious but has no chance to do anything as you swiftly grab him by his sleeve and drag him forcefully into the middle of the dance floor. Off to the side, your friends laugh at the reserved boy’s confused and slightly startled expression.

Denki shouts your name behind you. “Help him loosen up! Show Shouto how to have some fun!”

Your lips curl into a devilish smile as you instantly realize what Denki is suggesting. Shouto stiffens when you turn around, and start dancing, your backside hovering dangerously close to his crotch. Coincidentally, the music changes to something with a more sensual beat, and that only eggs you on further. Shouto nearly jumps back when you brush against him, but you’re quick to grab his hands and put them on your hips.

“Like this, Shouto,” You guide the lost boy, trying to get him to move his body in sync with yours. When you feel him slowly start to relax, you take your hands away from their place on top of his and begin to dive further into the music.

Off to the side, Mina is recording the two of you dancing, laughing maniacally at the sight. The remainder of your friends stare in shock at the sight of the usually cold Shouto dancing with you in such a provocative way.

Becoming bold, you harshly press your ass against the man’s groin. Rather than pull away like you expected him to, Shouto just barks a loud laugh, holding your hips tighter. “Not that I’m complaining, but do you have a death wish?” Shouto whispers into your ear.

With a confused expression, you angle your head to meet his bicolored eyes. The man nods his head in the direction of your group of friends. There, in the middle of everyone, stands a very pissed off blonde.

Katsuki dons a formal suit, and he seems to have taken off the matching jacket. The thin fabric of his dress shirt stretches deliciously over his muscles, highlighting his body in the best way possible. The blonde’s gaze meets yours, a deep fire burning within his crimson eyes.

You immediately straighten up against Shouto, and the man laughs again. He pats you on the shoulder as if bidding you good luck before walking off. Gulping, you meagerly make your way over to Katsuki. On the sidelines, your friends watch in amusement. It is painfully obvious to them that the two of you have something going on, and it was honestly hilarious to see you guys try and hide it.

When you make your way over to Katsuki, you feign confidence. “Where were you?” You question with a small frown on your lips.

The blonde looks you over, drinking in your form. His breath hitches upon seeing the scandalous outfit you had chosen. The tight black fabric hugs you beautifully, not to mention the several slits in the fabric that expose your supple skin. “I got stuck at a damn press conference.” He grumbles, annoyance brimming in his ruby eyes.

“Oh,” You groan in sympathy. Press conferences were the worst, and you know how much Katsuki hates them. As a top hero, the media is always hounding him with dozens of questions.

With a click of his tongue, Katsuki is dragging you off the dancefloor and lugging you towards the bar. He takes a seat in one of the stools and forces you into the one next to him. The blonde is quick to order a drink. He then turns to you, mouth twisted in an unfriendly scowl.

“What the fuck were you doing with Icy Hot?” He demands, lazily taking a sip from his glass before placing it back down on the counter, eyes never leaving yours.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat. “We were just dancing,”

“Yeah, no shit,” Katsuki sneers in response, eyes narrowing.

You roll your eyes. “Well, then why did you ask?”

Katsuki turns in his seat so that his body faces yours. He reaches out a hand and grabs your chin, forcing you to look him head-on. “I just wanna know why the fuck you were grinding on that bastard like a little slut.” He spits.

Shuddering in his grasp, you smirk. “Sometimes I think you forget that I can do whatever the fuck I want, Katsuki.”

An animalistic growl erupts from the blonde’s chest, and he leans in closer to your face. “Do you wanna rethink that statement, Princess?” Katsuki demands, fingering the space in your dress where a small slit opens directly below your bust.

A shaky breath escapes you. “Shouto is just my friend… it’s not like he got handsy with me, not that it would even matter if he did. We were just having fun.”

Katsuki licks his chapped lips. “I think you need to be reminded of your place,” He snarls.

The hero’s fingers slide further into the slit in your dress, lightly grazing your breasts. Katsuki catches your soft gasp with his lips, pressing a searing kiss against your delectable lips.

You whine when the blonde pulls away, a devilish smirk playing on his lips. “Look at what a slut you are, moaning for me in public. Just a moment ago, you looked ready to fuck Shouto. Are you that much of a whore that you can’t even wait for me? Are you so desperate that you’d even fuck one of our friends?”

Katsuki swipes his calloused thumb against your sensitive nipple, feeling it harden under his touch. His other hand remains at your waist, keeping your body close to his. “Katsuki, please,” You beg, arching into his rough hands.

Roughly, the explosive man chuckles. “I think we need to leave. You need to learn just exactly who you belong to.” He whispers, hot breathe fanning against your ear.

With a low groan, you nod. Katsuki removes his hands from your body and takes your wrist in his hand. He drags you out to the front of the club and takes you to his car. You had initially gotten a ride from Mina, so you made sure to text her that you were leaving with Katsuki. In response to your message came an onslaught of very suggestive emojis.

While the blonde drives to his apartment, he keeps one hand on the wheel and the other firmly planted on your inner thigh. Every so often, he slides his hand closer to your core. His mere touch is much more intoxicating than anything you drank while at the club.

Before long, Katsuki is parking the car and leading you into his apartment. As soon as the door shuts, rough hands are aggressively pushing you against the adjacent wall, pinning your wrists above your head. Katsuki peers down at you, eyes dark with lust.

The blonde dives down, lips locking with yours in a passionate kiss. Katsuki fervently tries to force his tongue into your mouth, but you coyly deny him entrance. With a grunt, the man thrusts his knee between your legs and presses it against your heat. You gasp at the sudden friction, and Katsuki takes the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth, exploring every inch of you.

You moan hotly into the kiss, unconsciously rocking onto Katsuki’s knee that remains pressed against you. The blonde pulls away, chuckling darkly. “Look at what a fucking slut you are, getting off on my knee. Like a bitch in heat.” He taunts, pressing searing kisses against your jaw, slowly trailing down to your neck and biting harshly.

Desperate to touch the gorgeous man in front of you, you try to wriggle your hands out of his iron grip. Unfortunately, that only makes Katsuki hold you tighter and bite deeply at the base of your neck. “Please, Kat,” You pant out, desperation lacing your voice.

You whine as Katsuki drops his knee from its place in between your legs, the loss of contact only making you crave him more. The blonde also releases your hands, placing both of his to grasp your thighs. “Jump,” He mutters against your skin.

You yelp when the hero lifts you up, instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist. Katsuki attaches his lips to your collar bone, sucking with bruising force. The man carries you all the way to his bedroom, throwing you down onto his plush bed.

When you look up, Katsuki is standing over you, panting slightly. He brings one of his hands up to the stuffocating tie around his neck, and he aggressively loosens it, tossing it somewhere on the floor. He takes his time looking you over, nimble fingers undoing the top few buttons of his dress shirt to reveal a toned chest underneath.

The man smirks as he sees your eyes trailing hungrily over his body. He quickly climbs on the bed, planting himself over you. With a hum, he runs a hand along your body, starting at your breast and slowly making his way down to your thigh. When he reaches the edge of your dress, he yanks it up, exposing you to him.

Katsuki immediately groans at the sight of your bare pussy. “Oh? Were you hoping I’d catch a glimpse of your pussy at the club and take you right there?” he growls, spreading your legs.

“No, I just didn’t want any panty lines-“ You’re interrupted by a sharp slap to your clit.

Your back arches and you hiss at the rough treatment. “Don’t fucking lie to me. Just admit that you’re a slut.”

Katsuki runs a finger between your folds, coating his fingers with your slick. His thumb pays close attention to your clit, rubbing painfully slow circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your wanton moans fill the room, pleasure slowly consuming you. You rock your hips against his hand, hoping to gain more friction.

Another slap comes to your core, causing you to yelp. “Did I say you could fucking do that?” Katsuki grumbles, fury etched on his face.

You shake your head timidly. “Since it seems that you still think you can do whatever the fuck you want and get away with it, I’m going to have to teach you a lesson, Princess.” He sighs into your ear, hand abandoning your pussy and reaching up to practically tear your dress off.

Once your clothes are removed, Katsuki takes you by the waist and turns you so that you’re on your stomach, ass up in the air. The blonde delivers a stinging smack to your ass before dragging his thumb through your wetness, watching your pussy quiver under his touch. “So fucking wet for me, and I’ve barely done a thing to you.”

Behind you, Katsuki begins to undress until he’s just as naked as you. If you look up, you can see the blonde through a mirror placed in front of you. His thick cock stands proudly, the tip red and weeping with precum.

The man spots you ogling him through the mirror and grins, landing yet another harsh slap to your behind. You groan, arching your back, the shocks of pain morphing into an intoxicating pleasure that courses through your veins.

Katsuki laughs before dropping down and licking a strip up your core. You gasp at the feeling of his hot tongue on you, eagerly pressing yourself closer to him, begging for more. The blonde obliges, his tongue returning to your mound, moving expertly in ways he knows will make you lose control. He fucks you with his tongue, every now and then going down to suckle softly on your clit, slightly grazing you with his teeth.

The blonde moans into you, the taste of you inebriating. His guttural sounds send sweet vibrations through you, eliciting gasps and whines from you. Suddenly, Katsuki has his lips locked around your clit, his fingers plunging into your pussy, curling into you deliciously. Pressure begins to build up in your core, threatening to release. “Oh, fuck, Katsuki!” You nearly scream as he grazes his teeth over your clit.

Just as you’re about to come undone, Katsuki removes himself from you, lips and fingers leaving your trembling body, mercilessly denying you your release. Katsuki brings his hand down on the side of your ass, activating his quirk the tiniest bit. Heat blooms along your body, and the blonde continues to run his hands over every inch of your skin, keeping his quirk activated.

You press your head into the mattress, helplessly moaning as Katsuki continues his blissful assault on your body. When he finally pulls away, you are wrecked, thighs shaking, and a string of drool escaping your mouth.

Katsuki grabs your waist and turns you around to face him, groaning when he sees the fucked-out expression on your face. You look him over, and your eyes are soon trained on his dick, the way it looks painfully hard, almost begging to be sucked.

Peering up at the blonde, you weakly crawl to him, wrapping your hand around his shaft. Deftly, you stroke him, spreading his precum around his length. Katsuki nearly whimpers, watching your every move.

You start with small kitten licks, kissing your way up his cock. Your hand remains on him the whole time, pumping him painfully slow. Katsuki throws his head back at your ministrations, a low groan rumbling from his chest. You can see the muscles in his thighs flex delightfully as he tries to control himself.

Before the blonde forces your head down onto his cock out of impatience, you sink your mouth down onto him. Your tongue laps at the underside of his cock, and your free hand goes to stroke his heavy balls.

You bob your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks out. When you start to use your tongue on the head of his cock, Katsuki sifts a hand through your hair, grabbing a handful and forcing you down onto him. You gag at being forced to take him all at once so suddenly, and Katsuki groans when you flatten your tongue against his base. The blonde loosens his grip on your hair but keeps his hand on you as a guide while you blow him. A silent reminder that he’s still in control.

Slowly, you begin to pick up speed, bobbing your head up and down faster and faster. You use a hand to pump whatever length you are unable to fit into your mouth; your other hand still preoccupied with fondling the hero’s balls. Katsuki curses your name. “Shit, just like that, Princess. Keep going,” He praises, his eyes never leaving you. His rough hand still remains tangled in your hair, slightly yanking the strands as you continue to suck him off.

As you are about to deepthroat the man, he suddenly pulls your hair, stilling your movements. Instead, he keeps you still while he starts to thrust his hips, fucking himself into your mouth. His pace starts nice and even, but he soon begins to pick up speed. Your eyes water as Katsuki’s cock hits the back of your throat, spilling onto your cheeks.

Katsuki’s pace reaches a relentless speed. He’s moaning loudly, your name spilling out of his mouth like a mantra. The sound of you choking and gagging on his dick makes the blonde go wild as his thrusts become erratic, losing every sense of rhythm. The muscles in Katsuki’s thighs are contracting, and his lower abdomen is tightening. When you think he is about to come, you thrust your head down onto his cock, enveloping him down to the base.

The blonde yanks you off of him, growling and panting at you as he denies himself his own climax. “Do you want my come?” He asks you cockily. “That’s too bad, only good girls get what they want.”

Before you can choke out a lame response, Katsuki is turning you around once more, getting on his knees as you raise your ass to the air. The man positions himself directly behind you. Two fingers prod at your opening, slowly sliding into you. You gasp as he begins to scissor his fingers in your cunt, no doubt preparing you to take his dick.

The hero’s calloused fingers slide against your walls so fucking good, you can’t help the filthy moans that escape your mouth. Soon, Katsuki is removing his fingers, and you whine disappointedly at the loss. He takes his cock in hand and rubs it mercilessly against your pulsating cunt, spreading your wetness along his length. You moan at the feeling of him teasing you so ruthlessly.

“Please, Kat,” You whine, fingering closing around the plush bedsheets under you.

The blonde laughs at you. “Beg for my cock, Princess. Show me how much of a good girl you can be.” He taunts.

You nearly sob into the sheets, the need to have him inside you overwhelming. “Fuck! Please, Katsuki, I need your cock. Fuck me until I can’t walk anymore, please, just use me.”

A sharp inhale sounds from behind you, followed by another crude laugh. Katsuki leans down, his mouth next to your ear. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.” He whispers, licking the shell of your ear.

“I’m your slut Katsuki, you’re the only one who can fuck me like this. I want you so fucking bad. Please, I need you inside of me. Please.” You cry out, eyes glazed over with desire.

Katsuki slams into you all at once, his thick cock stretching you out deliciously. You moan obscenely, fisting the sheets beneath you. The man gives you no time to adjust as he pounds into you ruthlessly, delivering slaps to your ass as he sees fit.

“What a fucking greedy slut. Your cunt is practically swallowing my cock.” The hero pants out, the way you clench around him elicits a lewd groan from his mouth.

The man sinks his fingers into your hips as he fervently fucks into you, his grip will definitely leave you with bruises tomorrow.

His full balls slap against your sensitive clit as he rams into you, stimulating you to no end. Katsuki bends down once more and leaves a trail of searing hot kisses down your spine. He eventually makes his way to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, which he latches on to with fervor.

Katsuki bites down roughly, then changes to softly suckling on your bruised skin. From your position, you take one of your arms and wrap it around his neck, pressing his mouth further into your neck. Every sweet sound Katsuki let out is like music to your ears, much like your moans are to him.

When Katsuki starts to thrust into you even harder, you lose all strength. Your hand falls from around the blonde’s neck, and your other hand supporting you collapses. The side of your face presses into the mattress as Katsuki fucks you brutally.

The hero brings himself up from his position on your back, and he straightens his posture. When he notices the mirror in front of him, he groans and stills at this sight of you looking absolutely wrecked as you take his cock.

“Look up for me, Princess,” He instructs, looking at you through the mirror. “That’s a good girl. Watch as I ruin your tight little pussy.”

You groan loudly when your eyes meet in the mirror. Katsuki is positioned behind you, his muscled body covered in a sheen of sweat. His hair is mused, and you can see his muscles ripple through his body with every powerful thrust he gives.

The sight is fucking obscene, and yet you can’t bring yourself to look away. The way the blonde looks crazed with sex, his crimson eyes dark and swimming with desire all directed towards you. The thought that you’re the one who made him this fucking needy and drunk on sex lights a fire in your veins.

When Katsuki’s eyes meet yours in the mirror, he gives sharp, punctuated thrusts, hitting your cervix with every time. Your mouth opens in a silent scream, pressure building up in your core. The blonde growls as he feels your cunt clamping tightly around his cock, sucking him into you.

Katsuki looks down, reveling in the way you seem to swallow him up. Carefully, he takes his thumb and collects your juices from your pussy and spreads them against your puckered hole. You still, feeling the man rub against your ass.

“Kat, what are you doing?” You manage to pant out.

The man shushes you softly. “Just wait. It’ll feel good, I promise.”

He lightly prods against the tight muscle, his thumb slowly working it open with the help of your own slick. The feeling is foreign and slightly strange, but you make no effort to stop Katsuki. Gradually, he manages to work the entirety of his thumb into you. You groan at the new sensation, your pussy clenching around Katsuki’s cock when he begins to move his finger inside of you.

“Shit! Katsuki, fuck,” You groan, biting your lip.

Lightly, Katsuki moves his thumb, only to replace it with his index and middle finger. The blonde curls his fingers inside of your tight ass and you whine at the feeling of being stuffed so fucking full.

The man continues to curl and thrust his fingers into your ass, all the while ramming his big cock into your sopping cunt.

“Oh, fuck, please don’t stop,” You sob, breaths erratic.

Katsuki snarls at you, pulling his fingers out of you to your dismay. “Don’t you dare fucking come, I’m not even fucking close to being done with you.”

He brings a hand down to your hair, yanking you up and making you cry out. Your back is now flush with Katsuki’s chest, the new position allowing him to angle himself perfectly inside of you. With every thrust, Katsuki pounds into your sweet spot, nearly sending you over the edge.

“Remember what I fucking said, you don’t come until I say you do.” The man reminds, his grip on your hair never faltering

Katsuki’s other hand comes down from your waist, and he rubs figure eights on your clit, making you scream. “Fuck!”

The sound of skin slapping on skin resounds off the walls of the bedroom as the blonde continues to roughly fuck into you. In the mirror, the sight is absolutely filthy. With every snap of his hips, your breasts bounce, and every inch of your collarbone and neck seems to be covered in marks.

The blonde notices you looking in the mirror and removes the hand pleasuring your clit, reaching it up to grab at one of your tits. He fondles it softly before taking the nipple in between his fingers and rolling it expertly. He slows down the speed of his thrusts as he plays with your body, reducing you to soft whines. Katsuki stares at you with an expression of pure lust as he touches you, and the sight of him enjoying touching you so much is enough to make you whimper.

Upon hearing your noises, Katsuki finally removes his hand from your hair, snaking it down towards your neck. He applies a light pressure before becoming more firm with his hold. He audibly moans at the sight of you in the mirror. You submit to him so fucking easily, almost as if it’s natural.

“Look at you, fuck, finally being a good girl for me.” He murmurs next to your ear, panting in between his words.

While his thrusts are still slow and languid from when he had been exploring you earlier, he gradually picks up his pace, returning to a bruising speed. You nearly scream as his cock slams against your g-spot.

“Katsuki, fuck, I’m gonna come,” You manage to choke out against the pressure of his hand on your neck.

The blonde grunts and increases the speed of his hips, dropping his hand from your chest to have it return to your clit. He circles the bud deliciously, bucking his hips wildly against you. Katsuki tightens his grip on your neck and presses small kisses to your jawline before coming up to your ear. “Come for me, Princess,”

Stars shoot across your vision as you come undone, pleasure shooting through your veins. The feeling is euphoric as Katsuki continues to thrust into you, chasing his own climax while fucking you through yours.

Sensitivity soon overcomes you, as the hero continues his assault on your sweet-spot. Katsuki loosens his hold on your neck, and eventually, his hands drop to your waist, holding you in place. You angle your head back and reach and arm to grab Katsuki, pulling him into a searing kiss of tongue and teeth. When you pull away, a thin string of saliva connects your lips. Against his mouth, you mutter, “Come inside me, Katsuki.”

With a loud growl, Katsuki gives one last thrust deep into your core, and he moans sinfully as he empties himself into you. Hot ropes of come spill into you, filling your cunt.

The two of you pant heavily, still coming off the high of your orgasms. It takes a moment before either of you move. Slowly, Katsuki pulls himself out of you with a hiss, groaning when he sees his come begins to drip out of your pussy.

A dull ache settles itself between your legs, and you are quick to collapse with your back against Katsuki’s chest. He chuckles softly. “Are you okay?”

You grin. “I just got my insides rearranged. Give me a minute.”

Katsuki barks out a laugh, taking you tenderly in his arms and laying you down on the bed. He kisses your temple softly before entering his bathroom. The blonde returns with a small washcloth, and he cleans you up.

Just as you’re about to fall victim to exhaustion, Katsuki picks you up in his strong arms and takes you into his bathroom. He had started a bath and delicately places you in the very soothing warm water. “Thanks, Kat. You’re the best.” You praise tiredly, half out of your mind.

The man grins at you cockily. “Trust me, I know.”

#bakugou katsuki #bakugo #bnha #mha #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #reader insert #bnha x reader #mha x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #x reader #smut #bakugou imagine #bakugou smut

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teawithkpop · 5 years ago

Text

[M] - PhysCom - Pt 6

pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3 - bc 1 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6

Pairing: BTS - OT7 x Reader

Rating: Mature [18+]

Length: 6.0k words

Genre: PhysCom AU - smut with dashes of angst, and a shitload of romance and complicated feelings,, uhuhu (porn with plot??)

Warnings: swearing, sex with ulterior motives, dirty talk, dom!yoongi, oral sex (male and female receiving), throat fucking, spanking, clothed sex, unprotected sex, ripping clothes, degradation, throat holding (not to the degree of choking), licking, cum play, it’s nasty it’s just nASTY

I hope you don’t all hate me after this ahahahahahaha love you guys <3

☕💕 If you enjoy this work, please consider supporting me and my writing on KoFi ^^ ☕💕

-------

We must build a brighter future for PhysComs. They are people, just like you and me, and they are severely undervalued in our society. We employ them, we rely on them, and yet, they are ignored at best, and abused at worst, with punishment and persecution waiting should they dare to speak out about the horrific injustices through which they suffer. We cannot live in this double standard. I refuse to accept it, and I urge you to open your hearts and imagine what it would feel like to be needed but shamed. To be relied upon, but to never receive recognition for your efforts. They are people, just like us. They live among us, yet they are treated like ghosts. As of now, Physical Companions are employed by most entertainment companies, but are given no benefits and no job security. They have only the protection of their own agencies and any underground communication they might have between each other. These people should be respected. They should not be forced to live in the shadows. It’s time that we acknowledge and thank these tireless workers, and provide them with some support in return for all of the support that they provide this industry.

You read over the words again and again until they become a continuous stream of overlapping thoughts, filling you with utter confusion.

What the fuck does this mean?

You look away from your ComGear and pull up the document on Namjoon’s computer again. “Jungkook!” You call out to him, your heart hammering, and the door opens enough for him to poke his head through, his eyes widened expectantly.

“Yeah?”

You hastily gesture for him to come in, your eyes glued to the screen. “Come read this. Out loud.”

He seems confused, but comes up beside you and looks over the document, murmuring as he reads. “We must build a brighter future for PhysComs…"

As he confirms by reading back to you what you’ve seen with your own eyes, your confusion heightens to a fever pitch, and you almost want to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Is this… an essay? About PhysComs?

“Wow,” Jungkook says softly, his eyes scanning the words in fascination. But when he turns to look at you, you can see that it isn’t fascination at all. His eyes contain something that stirs worry in your gut. “I, uh… I didn’t realize things were so bad for you.”

Pity.

No. No, this is bad. This can’t be happening.

Your brief feeling of ease at finally getting some answers vanishes in an instant as your mind becomes a whirlwind, spiraling down, down, down… You can see, clear as day, what will happen if Namjoon shows this essay to the other boys.

You’ll become someone they pity.

Pity is bad, pity isn’t hot, pity isn’t sexy, pity isn’t fuckable, pity means they’ll feel bad when you do your job, pity means they’ll use other sluts to lessen your burden, pity means they give you more fucking vacation time, pity means they’ll never look at you the same way again, pity means-

You don’t realize you’re short of breath until you’re gasping, hyperventilating, your knuckles white against the dark armrests of the chair.

Jungkook is beside you. He’s saying something but all you can hear is a high pitched whine and the thunder of your own pulse as it crashes in your ears, reminding you with every thump of your beating heart that you’re a failure.

You’ve failed.

You stand up, probably a little too fast, as your vision grows dark in the corners. Jungkook immediately goes to help you when you stumble, but you fend him off.

"I'm fine." You put a hand to your head, trying to force it to stop throbbing. "I don't need your help."

He seems hesitant to reply.

“Where is Namjoon? I-I need to-” Your voice trails off as stars swim in your vision. “Fuck…”

The room becomes blurry, and you feel weightless as you sink to the floor, the distant echo of Jungkook’s frantic voice fading into nothingness.

-------

“Some clients may become… misguided.” Madame paces in front of the class, checking everyone’s form and breathing as they lay on their backs at their stations, legs propped and parted as fucking machines train you all for stamina.

This is a relaxing class, despite the nature of it. After a while, you barely even notice the dildo sliding in and out of you, the whir of the machines becomes background noise. It’s a good chance to focus and meditate.

“They may come to hold… pity for you.” Madame bites on the word as she lowers her ever present riding crop, gently coaxing one girl’s legs further apart.

“They’ll think, aww, the poor little sluts are forced to be used. They’re being objectified. They don’t get a say.” You can barely see Madame’s arm from your position as she drags the riding crop along the girl’s thigh, and the girl shivers in pleasure.

“Pity is useless, girls. This is your job. You don’t pity the mailman for having to be out in the weather. Safety is key, and rules are in place for a reason. That’s why people never hire just one Physical Companion.”

The class snickers at this. The idea is preposterous. PhysComs are always hired in sets, proportional to the amount of clients they’ll be serving.

“You are never forced to serve your client. You are independent contractors. Anything you do for them, you do willingly. This is why we train. To broaden our capabilities, and make ourselves-” Here, she adjusts the setting on one girl’s machine. The dildo moves faster, causing the girl to let out a breathy moan. “-as flexible as possible for our perspective clients.”

You inhale steadily as Madame examines you, her eye keen enough to pick up every detail of your posture, every twitch of your muscles. She clicks a setting on your machine and you feel the dildo expand slightly in girth, stretching you out further.

You smile and sigh at the stretch, proud to beat your previous record for time needed to move up a size. Madame’s expression gives away no approval, but you can tell from the twitch in her lip that she finds you to be a promising pupil.

She moves on, examining the next girl in line. “Our job is to assure them. To remind our clients why we are here. When we are with our clients, we are purely sexual beings.”

The girl beside you has her hands clapped to her mouth, trying desperately to conceal her noises. You can see her legs quivering and feel a twist of pride at being one of the few people eligible for an orgasm suppressant. Until you get your Opticon implanted, it’s an excellent advantage for stamina training.

Madame returns to her post at the front of the class, her sharp gaze sweeping over each of you as she continues her lecture. “If you are pitied by your client, then you have failed to make them see you as useful. Useless toys are thrown away.”

-------

Regaining consciousness is like being pulled up from the depths.

You vaguely register the softness of a bed beneath you. You blearily open your eyes, and see someone sitting at your side, their face swimming in your vision.

“Jagiya,” Taehyung pets your cheek, his large hands warm against your clammy skin, his voice is gentle. “Are you with me?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, suppressing a groan as you shove yourself onto your elbows.

“Woah, woah,” He stops you, guiding you to lay back down. “Easy there. How are you feeling?”

You feel like shit, honestly. Your head is still pounding and there’s a ringing in your ears, though the dizziness has faded significantly.

“I’m fine,” you croak, surprised at how weak your voice sounds. You wish you had the strength to shove him off, but your hands are braced uselessly on his arms.

A quick glance at your surroundings tells you that you’re back in your bedroom. How did you get here? The memories of what you discovered begin to come back to you, and with them, your sense of urgency returns. You try to push him off again. “N-need to see Namjoon...”

Taehyung shakes his head with an air of duty. “Namjoon isn’t home yet, but he said to keep you company and make sure you don’t overexert yourself.” He rearranges your arms and tucks the blanket up around your shoulders, then reaches for something on the night table and gently coaxes a straw to your lips. “Here, have some water.”

You reluctantly take a sip. You hadn't realized your throat was so dry.

He seems satisfied, and gives a nod before setting the drink down.

"What happened?” You ask with a looming sense of dread.

“You fainted,” he replies somberly.

You squint at him. “Yeah, I meant after that.”

His face brightens in understanding. “Oh! Well, Jungkook said he tried to call Namjoon as soon as you collapsed, but he didn't answer right away so he had to leave a voicemail. Then he brought you back here to your room instead. Carried you the whole way.”

There’s amusement in his eyes, though you can’t imagine what he finds funny about the situation. “It was perfect timing, so I said I’d look after you until you woke up.” He smiles warmly. “And now you’re awake.”

“What do you mean perfect timing?”

His smile falters for a moment. “Because... I just got home from shopping. See?” He says brightly, gesturing to some shopping bags sitting by your door with big name brands on them.

You also notice that your door handle is broken clean off.

“What… happened to my door?” You gape at the sight.

“Oh, I guess it must have been locked when Jungkook brought you home.” Taehyung chuckles. “I don’t think an elephant could have stopped him. You had him really worried.”

Something inside you feels warm at the notion that Jungkook would care so much.

And that warmth is immediately doused by frigid guilt.

Fuck, what are you thinking?

You’ve let them get too close, you’ve let them see your struggles, you’ve let them see you as a human being, as someone to worry about, instead of a mindless toy. Namjoon has written an entire persuasive essay about the supposed plight through which he believes you’re suffering.

You’ve become too relaxed around them. Fuck, you’re sitting here letting Taehyung fuss over you, when you should be offering him your body, sucking him dry, and letting him fuck your brains out.

That document puts things back into perspective. Letting this… tentative emotional connection that you've started with them go any further could be career ruining. Not just for you, but for the rest of their PhysComs. The dozens of Secondaries they employ could be at risk for losing their jobs too, if your clients suddenly feel guilty for using your services.

And then what? The members’ sexual drives will get out of hand. They won’t be regulated, they might stick their dick into a lucky fan and end up with a pregnancy scandal to cover up, or they’ll become tired, sluggish, and distracted due to unregulated sexual maintenance, which could affect their performance.

You are a necessary piece of their daily routine, their health, their jobs.

Vacation be damned, you are not about to let Namjoon’s blind optimism put himself, the other boys, or your own career at risk. It's for his own good.

You should have deleted the damn document when you had the chance. But it would have been too late anyway. Once they see you in that light, once they start pitying you, then that flicker of doubt will linger in their minds no matter how much you try to extinguish it.

You need to remind them of your place.

Jungkook and Namjoon are lost causes, they’ve both been exposed to the document’s propaganda. But there's still that mysterious vote they’ll be having by the end of the week, presumably about your future. That means you still have a chance. If you can convince a majority of them to view you once more as a purely sexual being…

You try to clear your head, mustering your strength to serve, but before you can ask Taehyung how he wants to use your body, he speaks.

“You do so much for us, jagiya.” Taehyung keeps his hands braced on your arms, his thumb rubbing gently against your skin. “You’re always there for us. Always giving.”

Your whole body tenses. You don’t like where this is going. He’s starting to sound an awful lot like Namjoon.

Taehyung seems to sense your discomfort, because he leans closer and bestows a fleeting kiss to your forehead. “Now it’s time for you to receive.” His eyes are warm as he stares down at you, and he holds a glimmer of something secretive in his smile, like he just told a private joke.

Your confusion grows. “Taehyung… what are you talking about?”

“He’ll be here any minute,” he says by way of an answer, and gives your shoulder a squeeze. “Just relax, jagiya. You deserve this.”

“What do you-?”

But before you can question what he means and why he’s acting so strangely, your door swings open, and Min Yoongi enters.

“Here to take over,” he says, his mouth and nose still covered by the same black mask from earlier.

Taehyung looks surprised, almost shocked. “Where’s Jimin? He was supposed to-”

“Asked me to come instead.” Yoongi lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “Said something about not feeling right.”

You look between the two of them. Taehyung’s mouth flaps like a fish and Yoongi sighs, coming over to take his place. “Come on, you’ve been up here for hours.”

Hours? What time is it? You reach for your ComGear and find that it’s not in your utility belt.

“No, but Jimin is supposed to-”

Oh, there it is. Plugged in, resting on your night table. Maybe Jungkook saw that the battery was low. That boy is way too considerate.

“Why don’t you go check on him, then?” Yoongi doesn’t give Taehyung any room for argument, staring him down. “I think he went to the practice room.”

Why is it on the settings screen? Shouldn’t it still be in your emails from earlier…? Weird.

Taehyung reluctantly stands up and takes a few steps towards the door, shifting his weight with uncertainty. He looks to you, then back at Yoongi. “But she was about to ask me something.”

You put aside your ComGear, pushing away any prior thoughts to focus on your mission. “It’s okay, we’ll talk later,” you assure him with a nod, your mind whirring into action.

You have to remind five men of your place as their personal sex slave, if all goes well. The order in which you remind them of this is inconsequential. Plus it might be more effective to go for Taehyung later. He may be less eager to fuck you after nursing you back to health.

But Yoongi… you haven’t seen him since earlier in the day. Yoongi doesn't have feelings for you. Yoongi’s only ever known you as a slut, which makes him an easy target.

Taehyung doesn’t look happy about leaving, but he nods, retrieves his shopping bags from the floor, and gives both of you a final glance before shutting the door.

You wait just long enough to know Taehyung is out of earshot. Yoongi walks over to your vanity, takes off the jacket he’d been wearing and drapes it over the back of the chair, leaving himself in a plain black t-shirt and black sweatpants.

While he isn’t looking, you carefully sit up and shed your oversized hoodie, leaving you topless. Time to get back to business.

You take a deep breath and slip into your persona. It feels good to wear it again, you feel less dizzy, more focused. Ready to fuck.

“Did you miss me, Master Min?”

Yoongi freezes, his back to you. You suppress a laugh. You know you’ve caught him off-guard.

“I’m sorry?” He tugs down his face mask and turns around, only to see you in nothing but a pair of leggings, perched prettily on the edge of your bed. His eyes widen only marginally, but it’s a big reaction, coming from him. "What are you doing?"

You tilt your head to the side and cover your breasts with your hands, groping and squeezing them together. “What do you think I’m doing, Master?” You bite your lower lip, keeping eye contact with him while you feel yourself, rolling a nipple between your fingers. “You always tell me to show off my pretty body.”

Yoongi looks off to the side, averting his eyes to your actions, but the tent forming in his pants tells you he didn’t look away soon enough. “Stop fucking around. You're suspended.” He says, echoing your words from earlier in the day.

You hum in agreement, a pout forming on your lips. “Mm, but I don’t want to be.” You let out a desperate, breathy sigh. “I want to be filled with your cock, Master. I need it.”

You watch his adam’s apple bob. His weight shifts. His lips press together. Every movement you analyze for signs of weakness. It’s like playing chess.

“I know you want me, Master,” you purr, sprawling back onto the bed. You bring one hand down to your core, massaging your mound through the stretchy material. “I’m yours for the taking. No one has to know.”

"Is that what you really want?" He asks with a distinct note of skepticism.

You bristle, but try to hide your irritation. Here they go again with their fucking consent.

“Yes, of course, Master.” You mold your face into submissive desire. “It's my dream to be a good little slut for you. Being stuffed with your thick cock, pounded into the mattress, and pumped full of your seed,” you whine, grinding against your hand for effect. It feels good, better than usual, and you come to find that you mean what you said.

Sex actually sounds good right now, if you’re being honest. A good fucking might be just what you need to forget your worries, so it’s really a win-win.

You sense Yoongi’s hesitance, and you try to think of a way to convince him that you’re serious. The only off-the-clock sex you’ve had so far was with Hoseok, and that had been… far too intimate. But maybe some of the same principles could apply here. Hoseok had wanted you to want it. He’d asked you to use his name.

“Yoongi,” you breathe his name, dropping your character for just a moment. His eyes snap to yours. “I want you.”

He stares at you for a second. Two. Then he’s hovering over you, hands planted on either side of your shoulders.

“You want me?” His breath is warm and heavy, and you can see the way his pupils dilate when he looks at you.

Your heart skips a beat at his unexpected intensity. You nod, your lips slightly parted as he holds his body only inches away from you.

He seems at war with himself, his jaw working as his eyes roam down to your chest, then travel slowly back up, settling on your widened eyes, your pink bitten lips.

"Fuck it," he mutters, and surges down to crush his lips to yours.

It's unexpected. He's never shown any interest in kissing you, he's always preferred shoving his fingers in your mouth.

But you're grateful for that, because if he'd ever tried to kiss you before, you don't think you would've been able to keep your composure.

Yoongi is like fire. His lips are searing with passion, his tongue flickers and licks into your mouth. It's a stark contrast to his icy fingers as they brush against your ribs.

He's full of contradictions. His kiss is greedy but controlled. He grinds his thigh between your legs, causing you to moan, but his hands are feather light as they caress your breasts. He's fire and ice.

You feel yourself getting hotter by the minute, and all too soon, he breaks away from the kiss, leaving you gasping as he trails his mouth down your neck, biting a bruise there.

"Ah! Yoongi…" Your fingers twine through his hair of their own accord, and you're appalled at how easily you've given in to your desires. But it's all for the cause. You're saving careers.

He groans, his voice low and tempting as he kisses and licks your skin. "You really want me, princess?"

Your chest heaves as you catch your breath. "Yes. Fuck, yes, please…"

"You want me to fuck that greedy cunt of yours? Fill you to the brim?"

His words light a fire in you, and you writhe beneath him. "I want it so much, Master. Please fuck me…"

He grabs your jaw. "You're my slut."

He says it more like a question than a statement. You nod as much as he'll allow.

He drags his thumb across your cheek and dips it into your mouth. "You're mine. I can use you however I want…"

You didn't think he'd be so easy to convince. Well, mission accomplished, you suppose. One down, four to go.

You suck greedily on his thumb in answer, widening your eyes to draw him in. He hums, pressing down on your tongue and making you gag around the digit.

"Good girl." His eyes are half lidded as he looks at you. Then something changes, a sharp glint appearing in his gaze as he removes his thumb and squeezes your jaw, forcing your mouth open.

He licks past your lips in a kiss of complete dominance. Despite his control, he's gentle, savoring your taste, praising you for it between breaths.

While your mouth is occupied, his other hand snakes down to cup your heat, palming you through your frustratingly thin leggings. His dexterous fingers find your clit faster than you would expect, and he circles the pads of his fingers there intently, nothing but the thin material separating him from your skin.

You buck into his hand, though you hope he doesn't keep you there for too long. You know the ache between your thighs will only get worse with no release.

"So fucking wet…" he mutters, pulling back from exploring your mouth to lick a possessive stripe up your cheek. "Tell me how much you want me, slut. Beg for it."

"Please!" You whine, falling into the familiar routine. "Please, Master, all I want is your cock inside me! I need it, I want it so badly…"

Yoongi exhales through his nose, and soon he's up and off of you. "All fours."

This is what you're used to. The familiarity of being told what to do, knowing what's going to happen next, it makes you relax. You get in the position he asks, wiggling your ass towards him.

But Yoongi needs no encouragement. He spanks you hard, rubbing his hands all over the smooth material covering your ass. "Fuck, so juicy…"

He's silent for a moment, and his hands still. You're about to say something to provoke him when there's the distinct noise of ripping fabric behind you. Your hips jerk towards him as he tears the seam of the leggings right down your core, exposing you.

"Yoongi!"

But he's already digging in, dragging his tongue along your folds and sucking at your dripping cunt. His hands grip your ass, spreading you apart for him, and you quiver, his tongue igniting sparks as it plunges within you.

You try not to let it get to you, but the lack of constant sex must have made you extra sensetive. Every thrust and flicker of his tongue has you breathless, squirming, needing more. It was never like this before, you have to pull yourself together. Keep control.

But Yoongi seems to like your enthusiasm. He hums, and the vibrations buzz at your clit, sending tingles straight up your spine. You let out a shriek of surprise as he sucks on the overly sensitive bud and you feel yourself throb.

Fuck, he's too good at this. How did he get so good at this? Your arms give out, and you fall onto the bed, your face buried in the duvet as Yoongi fucks you expertly with his tongue.

"S-stop…" you plead weakly, trying to avoid the inevitable disappointment that will soon follow if he keeps this up.

"What? I didn't hear you use your safeword, slut." He growls, landing a warning spank on your rear ashe rises onto the bed behind you. A shuffle of fabric as he pulls down his sweatpants. "You like this, don't you? You like being exposed. Being treated like a pornstar? Dirty girl."

You do. Fuck, you do. Especially when Min Yoongi happens to be the actor starring with you.

You feel him tap the head of his cock against your ass, slide the thick length along your center. "Look at how fucking wet you are already. So desperate... pathetic."

You feel a flash of heat at his assessment. Yoongi's always enjoyed a little degradation, but his choice of words hits a little too close to home in this particular scenario for you to fully embrace it.

You cover your embarrassment with a thicker cloud of pretend. "Of course I'm dripping, Master. I'm your fuck doll. I live to service your cock..."

"Damn right, you do." He shoves into you without warning, and you gasp for real. Fuck, you've been denied dick for less than twenty-four hours, and you're already off your game? Come on, shake it off. Get in the rhythm of it.

But Yoongi sets such a relentless pace, it's impossible for you to keep up. It's as if he's got something to prove. He fucks into you so hard it hurts. You moan and try to relax, try to cling to the familiarity, but you feel a weird pressure building in your chest. It makes it hard to breathe, hard to focus.

He takes your moans and gasps as a sign to go harder, and he leans over you, pressing his chest to your back. His hand slips around your neck, holding you in place while he growls against you, his nose digging into your cheek. "Gonna fuck the living shit outta you… yeah? That's what you want? Gonna make you see stars and beg for my cock, over and over until I say so."

You moan in gratitude. You're grateful he's so easy to convince. You're his slut, and he knows it. This is where you belong. You feel happy. Safe. You smile, closing your eyes as Min Yoongi fucks into you like a freight train, and you finally get a moment’s peace from the past day’s turmoil.

He suddenly grunts, lifting himself off of you. "This cock belongs in your filthy mouth." He pulls out of you and takes you firmly by the shoulder. You hastily follow his implications to sit up.

He grabs his cock at the base and guides it to your face, nudging your cheek and spreading the coated wetness across your skin. You get a glimpse of his length - rock hard, nearly purple, and leaking - before he stuffs it down your throat. You relax, humming and taking all of him and gagging obediently upon request, just like always.

"Such a good whore, yeah… just like that," he moans, bracing his hand behind your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair. "This is how it should be, yeah?"

You hum around him in confirmation, glad that you're both on the same page.

"You're our slut. Nothing will ever fucking change that… " he starts rutting into your mouth, and you obediently let him fuck your throat.

He huffs, his voice dropping lower, “No use pretending you can be anything else.”

The change in his tone of voice is so stark, it gives you pause. You almost lose your concentration. He sounds almost... sad? Why would he be sad? Are you doing something wrong?

You redouble your efforts to please him.

"Look at you. So filthy." He praises you softly as you gurgle around him, drool starting to leak from your mouth. His roughness starts to return at the sight of you, and you beam with pride as he resumes his filthy dialogue. "This is what you want, isn't it? To choke on our dicks all day, huh? This what you signed up for?"

He pulls out to let you gasp in a breath, then shoves right back down. He does this a few more times, letting the blowjob get sloppy. You nod desperately between thrusts, assuring him of your devotion. You graze your hands over his clothed thighs, caressing him while he fucks your throat.

“Nothing else matters.” Yoongi huffs, and as his face swims back in forth in your vision, he looks resolute.

You surge forward to hold his length down your throat, swallowing around him, your nose touching his abdomen.

He groans, pulling your hair taut and holding you in place. "Yeah, that's it…. You were built for this, weren't you?"

He finally lets you come back for air, but no sooner do you take a messy gasp than he pushes you backwards onto the bed and crawls on top of you.

"Say it." He grabs you by the jaw again, and his voice is low and soft, his eyes like hot coals. "Tell me what you want."

You sputter and gasp, still reclaiming your breath, but obediently say what he wants to hear. "I want you, Yoongi. I want your cock..."

He let go of your face and hoists your legs up, bending you in half. "You're gonna get it, too," he mutters, grabbing your calves, keeping them up and out of the way as he shoves his thick cock into you again.

You moan compliantly, gasping and staring up at him. This is all going according to plan, you just have to hang on and not let your throbbing pussy distract you from the goal.

"You want to be a whore, huh?" He asks, maintaining a gravitational sort of eye contact as he slowly slides in and out of you, torturing you. "Cum for me. Cum around my cock."

You shiver and within a few moments, clench around him convincingly, letting your eyes roll back as you moan in delight.

"Cumming on command, within seconds... look at that." He braces your legs with one arm and starts rubbing your clit with his other hand as he picks up the pace. You feel a jolt as his thumb circles the little bundle of nerves, and you actually flinch.

"So sensitive." He growls, reading your mind. "What a needy cunt."

You can't form any words, the way he's kneading your clit has your head thrown back, your breath coming in gasps. It’s never felt like this.

Yoongi picks up on your arousal, and quickly gains speed, fucking you relentlessly, with little grunts of his own as he keeps you spread wide open for him, watching as your pussy takes his cock over and over again.

After endless minutes of stimulation, your core is swollen and aching, but still somehow desperate for more.

Yoongi's hips buck and stutter, and without warning, he leaves you painfully empty, clenching around nothing. His cock in his fist, he pumps himself to completion, letting his seed cover your puffy, aching pussy.

"Yeah, yeah, that's it…" he grunts, using his cock head to smear his release along your folds.

You start to relax, trying to overcome the disappointment your body feels at getting frustratingly uselessly stimulated.

But before you know it, Yoongi is lining himself up with your entrance again. "You thought we were done?" He chuckles darkly, using his cock to collect cum around your entrance, then he sheathes himself to the hilt with a low groan.

It feels so fucking good, you can't think straight. You cry out, your body desperate and screaming for more but knowing it's not enough, and it'll never be enough.

"Yeah, you want it deep inside you, don't you, you little cum slut?" He mutters, shoving his fingers into your mouth, and you're grateful that he's muffling your embarrassing noises.

"Gonna fuck you like the worthless little whore you are," he barks, ruthlessly slamming into you, and you moan with every thrust.

You would have said something if you still had an ounce of coherent thought in your brain, but the sensations are quickly taking over. Your whole body is wound up, desperate for something. His fingers reach down to rub hastily at your swollen clit and your vision blurs, your pulse pounds in your ears - are you going to faint again?

No.

You peak.

A scream catches in your throat, broken and gutterel as pleasure takes over your entire body, coursing through you in waves, lifting your body off the bed, convulsing, throbbing through you, inside and out.

It feels so good it hurts. You want to stay in this moment, extend it for as long as possible, but you know there's something wrong. Your mind is so addled, you're scared, terrified, before you even remember why.

You shouldn’t be capable of climax. Something’s wrong.

Yoongi keeps fucking you, grunting as you clench around his cock, but you're clawing at him, begging him to stop, tears leaking down your cheeks. Something’s wrong.

He realizes you aren't moaning anymore, but wailing. Sobbing. Something's wrong. He pulls out of you, shouting to be heard above your panic. He looks scared. Guilty.

Just then your door bursts open, and Jimin enters the room with a shout, quickly followed by Taehyung.

“I’m sorry! It’s my fault-” Jimin’s eyes fall to your compromising position, Yoongi’s dick still out, your leaking core exposed, and claps a hand over his mouth. He looks like he might cry. “Oh no...”

Taehyung’s mouth falls open, and he appears too alarmed to speak, apart from a very small, “Fuck.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? What’s your fault?” Yoongi’s shouts at Jimin and Taehyung are drowned out by the rush of blood in your ears as your shoulders shake from dry sobs. Your eyes flash between the two younger members, their guilty expressions, and you remember your private conversation with Jimin just yesterday.

"There is a way to turn it off, in case of emergency side effects. But I can't just turn it off for fun. You have to understand that.” You rest your hand on his shoulder again, hoping he now comprehends the reason for your earlier outburst. “It's a part of my job."

"I understand. Sorry,” he says, giving you a small nod. He twists his mouth to the side, chewing over the revelations. "That must really suck. Not being able to cum."

He’s the only one you’ve ever told.

“I’m sorry! It’s my fault-”

Your ComGear. The settings.

You're too shocked, too betrayed, too sore to get up on your own. You feel some of Yoongi’s release drip down your leg, and a robotic voice fills your mind, drilled into you from the hours of safety lectures you’d had to sit through during training.

… If at any point the user experiences orgasmic sensations before, during, or after sexual activities, then this may be a sign of malfunction in the Opticon Miracle Implant, rendering the user susceptible to sexually transmitted disease and/or pregnancy. Side effects of a malfunctioning Opticon Miracle Implant could become severe, or in some cases life-threatening, if left untreated. Please consult your local physician and refrain from any sexual activity until the Opticon Miracle Implant may be examined by a specialist.

They’re all shouting now, and you feel your throat constrict in horror at the implications of what just happened. The words get caught in your chest, bubbling up with your mounting fear, and finally fall from your lips in a raw cry for help.

"Someone call an ambulance!"

#bts #bts smut #bts x reader smut #bts ot7 smut #bts smut fic #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts ot7 #bts fanfic #bts ot7 x reader #bts fic rec #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #thank you all for enjoying physcom! <3

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flyswhumpcenter · 3 years ago

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Whump Focus I: Manga Soccer Edition - Episode 1: Junior Soccer is More Intense than I Thought

Let met ask you something: what was your whump discovery as a kid? Mine was most likely Detective Conan (it’s been wild seeing it make rounds in 2022 like episodes 188-189 were a new thing) when I was a tiny wittle kid coming back from school to see people get murdered on screen (France 3′s after-school cartoon block was wild in 2005), but I once discussed it with an IRL friend of mine who’s also into this kinda shit and she quoted the good ol’ French dub of the first anime adaptation of Captain Tsubasa.

In case you’re not familiar, CT is the godfather of sports anime and manga as we know them, having debuted in 1981 and still being ongoing (it’s on its last manga arc, Rising Sun, as we speak). It’s the story of a gifted soccer-playing named Tsubasa Ozora who moves to Nankatsu City in the Shizuoka Prefecture of Japan and manages to rise his team of loser classmates to the national junior championship. From then on he slowly reaches his dream of becoming the best soccer player in the world as part of Japan’s “golden generation” for soccer with friends, rivals and foes in his way; his main foe being the mangaka, Takahashi’s, passion for putting injuries in his manga so the matches feel tenser. It’s all very... anime, for lack of a better term.

Ironically, I think people in my country who watched the show as a kid mostly remember the original anime adaptation, a 128-episode behemoth filled with filler content and slow matches (the final match lasts 15 episodes, in case you were curious as to how long it takes) are how the players would push through absurd amounts of pain to reach the damn goalpost. Ask anyone about “that player who had a heart disease”, “the twins who propelled themselves in the air” or the entire finals of the first arc, the junior tournament and you’ll see.

I can’t make a good enough dive without splitting it into big chunks of content, so for now, I’ll be focusing on the first arc, the National Junior Championship, with illustrations from the 2018 anime adaptation since it’s very much a close adaptation to the source material aside from some modernized aspects here and there. In fact, since I can only advise you to watch CT 2018 instead of reading the manga (because finding good scans of the first arc is an impossible task, especially in English since y’all don’t give a fuck ‘bout soccer), I’ll be refering to CT 2018 episode numbers. (also, for the most part, I didn’t read the manga, I just watched the anime. Woops. Don’t worry, there’s a point where we’ll have to take a look at Takahashi’s hazy grasp on human anatomy and perspective).

(insert jingle here)

This arc starts off innocently enough: Tsubasa joins Nankatsu Elementary because the first kid he meets, Ryo Ishizaki, is from there and he wants to play there with his first friend in Nankatsu. He was originally supposed to join Shutetsu Elementary, the fancy-shmancy school who won the national junior championship last year with their epic goalkeeper Genzo Wakabayashi, but Ishizaki’s... charisma was enough to convince him to join the local public school, apparently. The first episodes are very mundane: Tsubasa is good at soccer, he accidentally pisses off Wakabayashi by scoring against him, and the latter wants to settle it in the annual sports competition between their two schools. Y’know, just “rich kid who lives in a giant mansion without his parents’ supervision but instead has a former goalkeeper as a parent figure” things (more on that later).

I was surprised to realize the first injury only happens in episode 8, at the end of the second Nankatsu-Shutetsu match (the first having ended with the former loing 30 to 0): to get through a a tactic known as “the birdcage” (which prevents Tsubasa from scoring, more ir less), Ishizaki sprained his ankle against the goalpost while passing to Tsubasa at the end of the 2nd half (allowing Nankatsu to get the match to 1-1) and can’t play in the additional time. He gets replaced by the boy whose hands you see in the second screenshot, Taro Misaki, who kinda got ropped into this shit when trying to just enroll into his new school. The match still ends in a tie, if you wondered.

That has to be the most graphic depiction of an injury in a sports anime I’ve seen in quite a while; admittedly, I haven’t watched most sports anime. (Ep 8)

Nankatsu City decides that, this year, for the perfectual tournament, they’re going to send a team incorporing players from all four schools of the city (including two I haven’t mentioned because they weren’t relevant to the injury count). All you need to remember is that, from now on, we’re following the Nankatsu SC (instead of FC, which was the club of Tsubasa and Co’s school), and Tsubasa and Wakabayashi will both be part of it... but not for long.

Behold, one of the few leg injuries which has a lasting impact in this show! A lasting impact for 2 episodes, but that’s that already. (Ep. 9)

Meanwhile, the plot introduces us to a new major character: Kojiro Hyuga, the captain of the (then future) Saitama Prefecture representants, Meiwa FC. His specialty? Playing so rough he injures his opponents when tackling them.

A normal day for Meiwa FC. (Ep 10)

I mentioned like 5 seconds ago that Wakabayashi was going to share a team with Tsubasa, but only for a short time. That’d be because, during one of the selection matches for the Nankatsu SC team, this happens:

The beginning of the most epic arc of the entire season. (Ep 10)

During yet another selection match (the most direct one), Hyuga decides to pay Wakabayashi a visit and scores against him, thus making Wakabayashi seek some revenge again despite his hurty leg disease situation. Also, we learn in the same episode that Hyuga has three younger siblings, an overworking mom, a dead dad and that he has to work to help his mom bring food to the table on top of school and soccer stuff. Yes that’s foreshadowing for later.

We skip through one match to arrive to the Shizuoka Prefectural Tournament’s finals, Nankatsu SC-Shimizu FC. This match kind of introduces a couple characters (Yayoi Aoba and Jun Misugi, namely, but we’ll see them more later... a lot of them), but mostly focuses on Morimichi Kawakami, the captain and goalkeeper of Shimizu, who has an amusing sense of tactics when it comes to scoring against Wakabayashi. You know, as in “the opposing goalie can’t stop us if we break his leg”. The most ironic is that despite this, Shimizu still can’t score and Nankatsu SC wins 3-0.

Reminder that Wakabayashi’s injury is common knowledge. Also that’s not a foul, I promise. (Ep 12)

I didn’t know what picture to pick, there are too many possible ones, so here’s the one that looks the most epic. (Ep 12)

Nankatsu SC is going to dem nationals, but at a cost: Wakabayashi’s doctor tells him he really shouldn’t participate in that tournament because of his hurty leg disease. He takes it as well as you expect him to. Instead, he makes Tsubasa and Co promise they’ll win every match until they face off against Meiwa FC and Hyuga so he can go to that damn pitch and get his damn revenge.

I’m pretty sure that if Mikami (that’s the Shinji Ikari’s dad-looking guy over there, albeit he’s a much better father figure than that guy for sure) hadn’t been there, he’d have fist-fought that doctor. (Ep 13)

Everyone goes to Tokyo. There, they meet twins playing over the railways in the train station: Kazuo and Masao Tachibana, from the Akira Pref. representatives Hanawa (they’ll be more relevant in the next arc). Misaki gets to introduce his current team to his former teammates of North Hokkaido, Furano (remember that name), while Yayoi whom I mentioned ealier chimes in to introduce her team’s captain. I didn’t mention it earlier, but she’s a friend of Tsubasa from where he lived before: her family moved to Tokyo after the Ozoras moved to Shizuoka and she’s now the manager of one of the tournament’s favourites, the Musashi FC. Also more on them later.

Shit heats up immediately for the Nankatsu SC since, in the drawing for the pool phase, they get put in the same group as... Meiwa FC. That’s literally the first match of the tournament, Wakabayashi is pissed in front of his TV, and Hyuga tries to wreck through Nankatsu’s entire lineup. One of his favourite tactics is to shoot right into the goalkeeper’s face, so poor Yuzo Morisaki, who didn’t ask for jack shit because he’s a substitute to begin with, gets a bad wake-up call.

Finally, a sports anime that shows my actual experience with sports! (Ep 14)

Hyuga isn’t the only rough player in Meiwa’s arsenal, though, because that happens to Tsubasa a couple minutes later:

The most miraculous is that this actually results in a yellow card! (Ep 14)

Oh, also, remember earlier when Hyuga shot Morisaki point-blank in the fucking jaw? That was to purposefully traumatize him! (Also, Wakabayashi, pissed-off calls Hyuga “a clown” in the French dub. It’s got nothing to do with anything else, it’s just funny). Don’t worry, he gets better because Tsubasa took a ball in his face to show him the ball is his friend and he shouldn’t be scared. Gotta love sports anime logic!

I mean, if the opposing goalkeeper is too scared of the ball to stop it, I guess you may as well be declared the winner by default. (Ep 14)

Nankatsu-Meiwa ends in a 7-6 victory for... Meiwa. Woops! Of course, since this is the pool phase and the 2 best teams gets to qualify for the knock-out rounds, they’re not eliminated, but they need to win their next 4 matches against the 4 other teams in Group A.

We skip ahead to Nankatsu’s last match, against Hanawa and, of course, the Tachibana twins. Both teams are fighting it out and are fairly equal, despite a slight advantage to Nankatsu. The twins use their secret technique, the “Triangle Shoot” (which defies logic and physics but looks cool so whatever, ain’t like Tsubasa wasn’t doing some acrobatics when shooting in like episode 5), where one of the twins jump on the goalpost. Of course, the first time they use it, theys core... but Kazuo, who shot, falls on one of Nankatsu’s defenders, Koji Nishiyo, injuring him and prompting his substition with the legendary Ryo Ishizaki (I say unironically. I love this guy).

That’s blood in my soccer anime! There’s blood in my damn soccer anime!! (Ep 16)

Crutch shot! (Ep 17)

Nankatsu ends up winning against Hanawa and gets to the knockout round. Also, we learn that Misaki’s moving out soon again and really wants the team not to get worked up over some drama during the match (nothing worth mentioning here). Every team like Nankatsu meets up in the dinner hall at the end of the day: that’s when we learn they won’t be facing off Furano unless both team qualify for the finals. That reminds me: I forgot to introduce you to Furano’s captain all along! Well, to be fair, he hasn’t been relevant until now, but that’s about to change... mostly because he accidentally collided with Hyuga in the cafeteria and it almost ended in a fistfight. Also, Misugi chimes in after Tsubasa and Misaki have defused the situation to tell them “it would be unfortunate if you two got injured before the match, sksksksk”.

I’m only showing you that shot because I’m always amused at how violent Hyuga gets over this guy for no fucking reason. Matsuyama was just going to apologize when he got bitchslapped five meters backwards. (Ep 17)

The 1/8th and 1/4th aren’t very noteworthy for us, aside from Naniwa FC’s goalkeeper trying to break Tsubasa’s leg because he dared breaking his no-goal record (and failing to break said leg). The one thing to note is that Nankatsu more or less knows Musashi will be their opponent for the semifinals and that’s when one tiny little quirk about them appears: Misugi, their genius captain, the most promising player of his generation, the “Prince of the Fields”... never fucking plays. At best, he plays like 5 minutes, scores 6 goals, and goes back to fuck off on the bench. Sounds sus. All we know is that he “intervenes when it’s necessary”, Nankatsu’s players are jelly of his fanclub, and Tsubasa really wants to face him off like Misugi wants to play against him.

Not to worry, because the show is telling us right here and there. Remember when I told you Yayoi, Musashi FC’s manager, was an old friend of Tsubasa? Well, she goes to tell him about something real important; or, rather, she asks him a favour, and it’s to let Misugi win because he’s got an Anime Heart Disease that makes it so the semifinals will be his last match and she wants him to finish off on an epic note. Tsubasa tells him that he can”‘t lose because his dream to go to Brasil to become a pro player and also that Misugi probably wouldn’t want him to let him win. I wonder how that’s gonna develop, huh. Of course, when Misugi asks what she told Tsubasa about (because he spotted them, how discreet), she tells him a bold-faced lie and goes all like “noooo I didn’t tell him about your condition nooooooo”.

That’s enough babbling about whomstever this Misugi guy is for now, let’s go to the finals! The first opposes Meiwa FC to Furano, which means on one side we have Hyuga who doesn’t care about the bones of his opponents and, on the other, we’ve got a team known for their team spirit and collective playstyle (yes, that’s notable in this universe). And now I can introduce you to Furano’s captain, Hikaru Matsuyama: of every player I’ve mentioned so far, bar Ishizaki, he’s got no discernable talent and, instead, what fuels him is hard work, training in the snow and a lot of willpower. Also, he hates dirty tricks, so let’s just say he has more reasons to beat Meiwa up than wanting to make Hyuga pay for his cafeteria slap of the other day.

Meiwa’s as violent as ever, especially with sliding tackles, which pisses Matsuyama off very quickly, especially since Hyuga scores at the 5th minute of the 1st half. However, fret not: Matsuyama’s found the solution to stop Hyuga from decimating your entire team with tackles and it’s to... uh... put his leg between Hyuga’s foot and the ball? (Maybe you should fret, actually).

Would you believe me if I said the tackle right into the leg was on purpose, but on Matsuyama’s part and not Hyuga’s? (Ep 19)

Of course, when Hyuga discovers the yellow card he just took to the face was actually a Deliberate Injury Gambit from Matsuyama, he gets pissed - make it tenfold when Matsuyama transforms the free shot he got into Furano’s first goal and the entire team then proceeded to prevent Meiwa from scoring again until the end of the first half.

In general, Furano-Meiwa devolves into whose captain is going to be in the worst state yet play ‘til the end anyway. Indeed: Matsuyama may’ve taken a tackle square into the leg and is pretending it’s just some little bruise, but Hyuga’s doing less than good. Let’s just say working this much at the age of 12 isn’t doing him any favour. Kira, Meiwa’s coach, knows how badly exhausted Hyuga must be, so he asks Takeshi to do all that he can to alleviate the weight off his captain’s shoulders.

Some consequences? In my soccer anime? Preposterous. (Ep 19)

The second half starts with Meiwa scoring and Misugi (yes, him again) analyzing the situation. I just mention it because I love how CT 2018 adapted one of the panels of the manga for this one, and also because it’s a good summary, courtesy of the French dub and the one big liberty they took with it.

“Kojiro clearly has a physical issue, I’ve never seen him like that, and his tackle has really diminished Hikaru, he’s been in pain all that time. I don’t know how this is gonna end, everything’s still possible”. (Ep 19)

Speaking of Furano! Guess who got tackled again! In the same leg as earlier!

Let’s just say Matsuyama did not intend for this foul to happen. (Ep 19. Yes we’re still on the same episode and it’s only getting downhill from there).

So, Furano gets a second free shot because their captain just keeps getting tackled in the goddamn fucking leg, and Meiwa doesn’t like it because it’s in one hell of a good spot for Furano. Hyuga sure seems frustrated about it... not that he’s doing much better than Matsuyama right about now.

You didn’t think my soccer anime didn’t have a sick episode, did you! (Ep 19)

Takeshi points out, concerned, to his captain that he’s burning up, but Hyuga tells him it’s nothing (yeah sure dude). That free shot, btw, is wild: Furano has three forwards all shooting in some direction to prevent Meiwa’s defence from properly working, Hyuga manages to push off Furano’s main forward’s shot... but Furano still scores anyway because woopdeedoo guess who was still near the ball! No, I have no idea how Matsuyama’s doing that crap either.

I just said he was near the ball. I never said he was fine. (Ep 19)

Some speeding ahead, since we don’t have all day. Furano gets a third free shot on a hand foul. Meiwa substitutes their GK for Ken Wakashimazu, who’s just back from a car accident or whatever, and he stops Matsuyama’s third attempt at a goal. Hyuga speeds ahead even if he can’t see jack shit anymore. Furano panicks. Also their captain is on the ground now.

Pay attention to that red patch on Matsuyama’s right leg: that’s our second instance of blood on this show. Noteworthy that him bleeding was more explicit in the manga and the first anime adaptation, but is kept to a discreet shot or two in CT 2018. I also don’t want to imagine how painful a wool sock on a bleeding wound like that must feel.

When I was 12, just hitting my knee against a chair would send me in that position. How in this fuck this 12-year-old kid is doing this is still beyond me. (Ep 19)

Hyuga scores, giving Meiwa a 3-2 victory at the last second or so. That being said and done, he can now collapse in peace knowing he’s playing in the finals. Wait, what?

He’s fiiiiiiiiine mom. (Ep 19. Yes this is a single-episode match.)

Coach Kira immediately asks for a doctor while Matsuyama, who’s somehow managed to get up on his own (again, what the fuck does this kid do in his spare time), is trying to cheer up his team. It’s when he sees Meiwa having to lift up their captain that, knowing Hyuga did all that he could to win, he makes peace with his team’s defeat.

Pictured: Hyuga lying through this teeth as he tells Takeshi he’s “just a little dizzy” or “needs to eat smething”, depending on what version you’re watching.

I’m showing you this shot of Matsuyama’s shins to prove my point from earlier, and also to tell you I was very confused about that choice of visuals when first watching the series. He’s thinking about how Hyuga’s played with all he had. (Ep 19. I promise it’s the last time)

Okay, so that was Furano-Meiwa. We’ll of course hear more about Matsuyama and his pals in the 2nd arc since his team will be playing a bigger role there, but for now, let’s switch gears to the other semifinal: Nankatsu is scheduled to face off against Musashi and, of course, Jun “Fly can you please get to the point about this guy?” Misugi. He intends on going all out this time, no matter how many heart attacks that gives both of his parents in the audience! I hope you’re ready for a shitton of screencraps again.

Of course, the match goes well, there’s no foul, both teams are motivated and fairplay... Who am I kidding? It takes exactly 8 minutes into the next match (opening included) for Tsubasa to shove his elbow into Misugi’s chest while trying to pass him.

What a way to begin this match, huh, Misugi? (Ep 20)

And now starts a sort of weird state where Misugi decides that, since Tsubasa must know about his heart problem, that he’ll show everyone he ain’t affected, and Tsubasa isn’t feeling good about, y’know, causing that guy some pain. The first half ends on Musashi winning 2-1, Tsubasa thinks there’s no way he’s beating Misugi, and Misugi slaps Yayoi in the corridor because she told Tsubasa and that disturbed him. I’m not showing you the slap (CT 2018 more or less censored it anyway), but let’s just say he’s really fucking pissed about it.

These flashbacks show how Yayoi found out about Misugi’s heart condition, so how she’s one of the very few people to even know about it. I feel like they were mandatory on a whump content-centric post (Ep 20)

The second half starts with rain and Nankatsu having to deal with Tsubasa in despresso mode. He gets over it after Wakabayashi, the mentor character I don’t feel like mentioning, his love interest and Misaki give hm a speech on never giving up, but only after Misugi and Co have already scored again, bringing the score to 3-1. Don’t worry: Nankatsu comes back with a goal, from Tsubasa, and it’s all good... for Nankatsu anyway, because meanwhile, it’s soon Misugi’s time to go back to the bench and his mom is getting worried. Oh, and y’know.

Welp, there it comes. (Ep 21)

Hyuga update! He’s been diagnosed with a juvenile form of overwork (successive heat waves, intense training and intense stress, what a cocktail!). His team’s worried, but Kira reassures them; Hyuga just needs complete rest, he’ll be there for the finals!

The picture of health or something. It was funnier in CT ‘83 where Wakabayashi was about to burst through the door to Hyuga’s hospital room to talk about getting his revenge, ngl. (Ep 21)

Back to the match. It’s still raining. Everyone’s tired as balls. Nankatsu scores again thanks to Tsubasa and Misaki’s combined play. Also, Misugi’s on the ground, a hand on his chest, and now everyone is suspecting something’s afoot. Of course, his mom tries to intervene (his dad prevents him from doing so) and the coach wants to sub him out, but Misugi protests, saying that he got promised he could play the semifinals in full.

Pictured: Misugi coming clean to his teammates about why he hasn’t been playing much... and everyone on the field learns this shit at the same time as they do. (Ep 21)

His father is the one who ends up convincing everyone to let his son stay on the field because, I mean, he can get one last match, as a treat.

Just don’t look at him too hard, his heart may shatter if you do. As in, don’t pity him, he could still somehow beat you up. (Ep 21)

He isn’t here to kid around despite the fact he can barely stay up! (Ep 21)

Because he has the power of soccer and anime by his side, Misugi makes a mad dash to the goalpost of Nankatsu while in immense fucking pain, which a nifty little monologue tells us about.

“Ngh... I think my heart’s gonna explode. On each footstep, the vibrations are piercing through my chest.” And then it sounds like he’s reading out his will or something. He’s 12. Everyone’s fucking 12 (Ep 21)

The plot just had to get one more elbow-to-the-chest while it was at it. (Ep 21)

Misugi arrives in front of the goal, breathless and on the wet-ass grass but still in possession of the ball. Morisaki and Tsubasa are both rushing to get it, but when Tsubasa gets there first, Misugi throws the ball far up in the air. What happens after is a little... confusing, let’s just say, but another heart palpitation seems to rob him of either his sight or his space perception, leading him to panic.

This shot always gets to me, for some reason. I think it’s because of how Misugi’s hand is drawn here, since it makes him look so much younger, all of a sudden, with those chunky fingers, more like a child’s hand than how he’s usually drawn? In all cases, if it’s deliberate, then hats off (Ep 21).

Thanks to Yayoi screaming at him from the bench where the goshdarn ball is, Misugi finds it and shoots it. Goal! Musashi’s now winning 4-3. Also, Misugi’s heart may have fucking stopped.

Actually, if you ever want a more stylish version of this shot, watch episode 36 of the ‘83 anime. You won’t be disappointed (Ep 21)

Of course, Misugi’s still alive, his heart’s stll beating and he’s the first surprised of that fact; he’s just completely spent. Still, the match ain’t over, so everyone goes back to their positions. Nankatsu must score if they want to face Meiwa in the finals, but Musashi doesn’t intend on losing either, even if their captain has to order everything from the goalpost.

Oh, so when I’m slouched against the goalpost, I get told I’m “lazy” and that I’m “not making any effort”, but when this guy does it, he somehow looks badass? That ain’t fair! (Ep 22)

Anyway, we’ve been on this match for long enough, so let’s cut to the chase. Misaki ties the score with a head. Misugi hates that he made a judgement mistake. Tsubasa scores a 5th goal. Nankatsu SC wins. Tsubasa tells Misugi his team would’ve won if he didn’t have hurty heart disease, but the latter tells him he’s got no regrets. Everything’s well, see?

I just wanted to include this shit cuz it’s cute. (Ep 22)

Don’t worry, ladies, Jun Misugi will be back next time! He ain’t giving up soccer yet. Or ever, actually. (Ep 22)

And it’s on Nankatsu qualifying for the finals that I’ll be stopping here today. The finals themselves are also a whump fest of a match, just like Meiwa-Furano from earlier, to the point I think they deserve their own post. Also, I need to go eat lunch. See y’all next time for most intense anime soccer action!

#whump focus #wf 1 #long post

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