#cause he's so much meaner--or rather meaner in a more direct way | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

liliesinrequiem · 3 years ago

Text

Poem

A/N: I’m back! With another Kaeya fic. This is technically set during the Windblume Festival with certain changes. I hope you all enjoy <3.

This could also be read as a sequel to: Forfeit (Kaeya x AFAB!Reader). It doesn’t have to be read before this one really since you aren’t really missing much. You can if you want.

Pairing: Kaeya x Reader

Summary: Kaeya convinces you to write a poem during the Windblume Festival. You refuse to show it to him after hearing his ‘poem’ and avoid him for the rest of the day until you were unable to.

CW: Mentions of alcohol

“Why don’t you try and write a love poem then?” he asked. A teasing smile on his face.

“My way with words is incomparable to yours,” you said. He was the most convincing person that you knew. There was a reason that he was so loved. Just from speaking with him for a little while, a person would totally be enraptured by him. A charming man, truly.

“Didn’t you write that one riddle when I had to arrest those treasure hoarders? The one that could’ve been out of a romantic novel,” he said.

“I was inspired,” you mumbled. That whole setup had been some of your finest work. The maps and the riddles were something that you had dedicated some time to. Of course, he’d given a lot of guidelines as to how they should be. You’d just done a lot of the creative work. Everything just fell into place so well for him in the end. The dinner you earned was nice as well.

“Then be inspired again. I’ll show you mine if you write one and show me,” he said.

A fair trade you supposed as you took a piece of paper. The poem came easier to you than you expected. Maybe your own heart did have some inspiration that you did not desire to admit.

“That’s what you were writing this entire time?” you asked after his poem was read out loud by Venti. You were tightly holding onto your own poem, wrinkling its prior smoothness. Whatever thoughts you had in mind of sharing your own poem had vanished into thin air.

“Poetic, no?” he asked. You glared at him. Poetic? Sure. A love poem? No. Beyond that, when did he even have time to learn the language of the Hilichurl?

“I feel like I have to fail you for this,” said Venti, confused by what he had read.

“Please do,” you said.

“Did you write a poem, (Y/N)?” asked Paimon, pointing at the piece of paper in your hand. Everyone’s eyes turned to you and you could see how the Captain was smiling. Embarrassment filled your body as you folded it quickly and shook your head. He would not manage to win.

“Nope! This is just a list of things I have to do at the moment. Now, if you’ll excuse me!” You stored the poem in your dress as you left the room and the building. You’d rather be outside and help out there than remain within the same room as Kaeya.

---

“Lumine!” you said as you saw her a while later. You’d been helping out Noelle with carrying around some materials that were needed for the festival. But your friend was much faster and stronger than you were so she was probably at the destination.

“(Y/N)! Captain Kaeya asked us to search for you! He wants to talk to you,” said Paimon.

“Oh? He couldn’t search for me himself?” you asked. A question that probably sounded meaner than you intended it to.

“He said he was too busy finishing up some paperwork for Jean,” answered Lumine, “So we came looking for you.

“You’re too kind. No wonder you’re an Honorary Knight. But I can’t go right now.” You continued, “Tell him that I can speak with him later.” You really did not want to see him. You felt...slightly hurt. You weren’t even sure why you were. Actually, you did know why you were upset. You just didn’t want to admit it. In truth, you had hoped that his poem would actually have meaning. Unrealistically and stupidly, you had hoped that his poem might’ve been a confession.

But that was the thing about your relationship with him. It was more of something that you were walking in the dark, with no real designation of whether or not you were going in the right direction, and hoping that you end up at the right place. For all you knew, Kaeya was probably waiting for the day that he’d drop you and move onto the next one. Even with that possibility, you continued giving your heart to him. Whether that was stupid or not, you were still not fully sure. Some days it was worth it and others, not so much.

“We could help you so that you can talk with him. He said it was urgent,” explained Lumine. You didn’t doubt that he had told her that. He probably believed that if you were told that it was urgent, you’d drop everything and run to see what he wanted to see. You usually did but you felt that you had to hold your ground for a while longer.

“Don’t worry about me, okay? I’ll talk to him when I can. He’ll understand,” you said. You bid them farewell and continued carrying the crate.

---

You’d managed to avoid him for most of the day. That was until you were called to Angel’s Share and asked to take him home. When you asked why they couldn’t, excuses came flying at you. Sister Rosaria said that she couldn’t as she had business to take care of and Diluc couldn’t either since he had to close up the place. Convenient that they both chose to do that now.

“Thank you, (Y/N).” You only mumbled a ‘no problem’ in response to Diluc’s gratitude as you pulled Kaeya to lean on your shoulder. The promise of free drinks motivated you to get the job done quickly.

“(Y/N)-” “Captain, be quiet. I would prefer if you didn’t get sick on me,” you cut him off. The walk back to his apartment was a hassle. It was either that he continued trying to ramble to you or that he was leaning too much on you and you had to take small breaks. You truly were exhausted from those crates earlier.

“Where’s your key?” you asked when the two of you stopped in front of his door. A fruitless question as his mind was somewhere else you would soon realize.

“How come you didn’t come to me when I asked earlier?” he asked. You didn’t answer as you checked both his pockets and fished out the key from the left one. To ask the question again would probably cause him to start talking about something else and you most definitely did not want to talk about anything.

“(Y/N),” he said.

“What?” Your voice sounded more angry than you meant. You pushed the door open and kicked it to close when the both of you got through. You sat him on his bed and started to look around the cabinets for a glass to fill it with water.

“Have you been ignoring me?” He sounded hurt. A rare sight to ever behold when he was constantly brushing everything off. Kaeya was rarely a vulnerable person. Years of having built up the walls around him to keep people out led him to being closed off from everyone. The fewest times that he was vulnerable was in the dead of night or when he was drunk. Every single thing that he ever expressed during those times had been stored into your heart.

“I’ve been busy today,” you answered as you handed him the glass of water. You turned to start looking for some clothes for the night. You doubted that he’d appreciate sleeping in his work outfit.

“That’s never stopped you before,” he countered as he drank the water. No response came from you since you knew him to be right. There was one time where you had to finish up something for Lisa and stopped doing it because he’d bothered you enough to do something for him. The librarian was upset and you only barely learned your lesson.

“Was it because of my poem?” You wondered how he even managed to figure that out.

“Maybe,” you said, “I just expected a bit more from you.” The poem that you had written for him was still in one of your dress pockets and felt like a stone that weighed on you. You’d poured a bit of your heart into it and the courage to give it to him withered away when Venti read his poem.

“I wrote an actual one,” he said. You placed some clothes on the nightstand and turned to look at him.

“Is that so?” you asked. You steadied him from falling over after you made your question. Just how much alcohol did he consume? The tab he had must be astronomical. Maybe not as bad as Venti’s or what yours had been at one point, but it had to be huge. Though you were jealous of his ability to remain coherent enough with everything in his system.

“Yes,” he said, “It’s here.” He pulled out a folded sheet of paper from his shirt. “Read it,” he said as he pushed the paper into your hands.

You shook your head. For all you knew, it could be another joke and you weren’t sure that you could handle it. At least not with him looking at you while you read it. “Let’s get you to bed, Kaeya.”

“But I want you to read it,” he whined.

“And I want you to sleep because you’re drunk,” you said.

After you’d spent some time convincing him to change and to get ready for bed, you sat down at the edge of the bed and opened up the paper. He’d fallen asleep rather quickly and you breathed a sigh of relief as your eyes traveled to the first words on the paper.

“(Y/N),” began the poem.

---

In the early morning, Kaeya woke up with a mild headache. Memories of the day before were hazy as the hangover hit him hard. He looked at his nightstand and saw a glass of water and a small bottle of medicine.

Beside the nightstand was a small piece of paper. On it, there were three words: To My Captain.

#kaeya x reader #kaeya x y/n #kaeya x you #kaeya genshin impact #kaeya alberich #angst? sorta #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you

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slafkovskys · 4 years ago

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the way you do / t. emberson

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

my masterlist!

title from fireproof by one direction

warning(s): swear words, mentions of a concussion, jealousy, accusations of cheating, also written in a no covid world :)

word count: 5.8k

you cheer along with only a portion of the crowd as the goal horn sounds, signaling what you knew was the first and last point of the night for wisconsin. while david gets to work on updating the instagram account from his spot beside you, your fingers rapidly type out a tweet to send out that would update the people who were following along there.

badgers are on the board thanks to tyler inamoto! the score is 3-1 arizona state with 0:10 left in the third period

“what are you doing after this?” david asks, looking back out onto the ice while you start a new tweet, just in case something were to happen in the next ten seconds. “i’m sure we can find some bar to sneak into. are you up for it?”

“i don’t know,” you sigh, focusing on the opposing team’s player as he takes the puck and shoots down the ice, attempting to beat the buzzer. you frown when the horn sounds, signaling the end of the game and a win for arizona, which you quickly update on. “it’s my turn to do the interviews and i don’t know how long that’s gonna take. i always have to chase someone down and i also said that i would help cole with his biology, but i think that’s going to be a plane ride home priority.”

“well, at least they’re all going to be in the same place for at least the next twelve hours or so. it shouldn’t be that hard to find who you want,” david stands up and you follow suit, making sure that you have your phone in your back pocket before following him towards the locker room. “besides, they like you more than they like me. you’ve got that midwestern charm and i’ve got an annoying southern accent.”

“your accent is not annoying. tell me who told you that it was and i will gladly humble them,” you look at the younger boy who smiles.

it was no secret that the boys were more acquainted with you rather than david as you had two years on him. while you were a senior, david was only a sophomore starting out with the team. this was your third year with them and you had taken him under your wing because he was going to be taking over for you next year when you were gone.

you make your way through the arena, taking a route that was closed off to the general public to make it back to the locker room to catch the boys before they got caught up in granato’s post-game speech.

“who am i talking to tonight?” you mumble to yourself as you tug at your bottom lip. you look up at david who was leaning against the wall across from you, “do you remember who i talked to last week? don’t look at me like that. so much has happened between now and then…”

“trouble in paradise?” he’s quick to joke, but the look that you send him causes the smile to drop from his face. his eyes widen, “please tell me-”

“we haven’t broken up, if that’s what you were going to say,” you look back down at your computer screen and shrug, “it’s just- he’s been acting weird since we landed. he’s so touchy and, yeah, we’ve had our moments. hell, we were long distance for two years, but this is- it’s just weird.”

“i mean, i’ve never been in a serious relationship, but you definitely need to talk to him. you’ve been together too long to let it fizzle out. you’re the only couple that i can tolerate,” he rolls his eyes and you send him a grin. “it’s true. you and ty are, like, royalty at wisconsin. i’m pretty sure that you’re the couple that has been together the longest.”

“maybe second longest. i met a girl last year who had been with her boyfriend for six years and we’ve only been together for five, so they have us beat,” you leave out the fact that both of them graduated last summer.

the boys trickle back quietly. you give them a moment to get settled before taking a deep breath and walking towards the entrance. you peek your head in and granato spots you immediately, waving you inside. “you’ve been spared for two minutes, boys. listen to the lady and don’t give her a hard time.”

you send him a nod in thanks before looking out over the room. you had all of their attention except for one and it was the person who you cared the most for. you send a soft smile as your eyes scan the room, “i don’t love any of you any less. you played a great game boys and you’re going to kill it tomorrow.”

“did you get any more stickers?” owen asks and you turn to look at him.

“i did, actually, but you can blame your captain for stealing them all before i could distribute them,” you look back at ty who looks at you with a cold look. you swallow the lump in your throat and quickly look towards the other ty who speaks up.

“do you think you could find those dinosaur ones again? those were badass.”

“i still have mine on my water bottle!”

“i missed the dinosaur pack.”

“that’s why you have to score, mike.”

yes, you were aware of how childish the stickers were. you used them as an incentive so that when they came to talk to you, they got to pick a sticker. the boys enjoyed them and even stuck them on their equipment sometimes when they could get away with it.

“okay, back on track,” you look down at your computer. you tap your nails on the keypad before clicking your tongue, “i need to see tyler, roman, and brock’s brother-”

“hey!” cole shouts from beside you while your joke provokes some of the boys to laugh.

“just keeping you humble, caufield,” you wink and he rolls his eyes, sinking back into his stall. you shake your head, “i’m not going to make you talk to me tonight because honestly, i’m drained and i know all of you are too. but please do come find me during breakfast tomorrow because i do have deadlines that i have to meet and that’s stretching it far enough. if you decide that you want to be mean and not come, i will be even meaner and snitch and you can find yourself being worked overtime in practice. are we clear, gentlemen?”

“yes ma’am!”

“thank you and good night,” you wave your hand around as you exit the room, shaking your head at the claps that followed you out. you and david gather your things and head toward the bus, knowing very well that it would be a while before the boys would begin to file out. you flop down in your seat and sigh, “one down, one to go.”

even though it wasn’t often, you loved when you got the opportunity to go on road trips. you usually got to go on the ones that were just bus trips, but it was a rare occasion when you got to go on trips that had to be made by plane. once or twice during the season, however, you got to pick a trip that you wanted to come on and this year you had picked arizona. before ty had gotten drafted, you had never been nor had you ever really wanted to go to the state. after coming to see ty during his first development camp, you had pretty much fallen in love with it and had taken every opportunity to come and visit since.

“your future home,” david chuckles and you roll your eyes. “what? do you know something that i don’t?”

“there’s a lot of things that i can’t talk about, david and those that pertain to my boyfriend’s future career are ones that are at the top of the list. you aren’t getting any insider news from me, buddy,” you point an accusatory finger and he holds his hands up in surrender.

“you could be my anonymous source?” he suggests, smirking when you flip him off.

it’s relatively quiet for the next half hour until the doors of the bus open and the boys start stumbling on. you close your laptop and leave it on the empty seat that ty usually occupied and stand up, pushing your way to the front. brock pats your head as he passes and you shove an elbow into his side, “dick.”

“he’s in a mood, princess. tread lightly.”

his warning makes you raise an eyebrow. you don’t have time to ask what he meant before ty rounds the corner. shay moves to the side to let you step off of the bus and you send him a grin. you meet ty in the middle, wrapping your arms around his neck, “i‘m proud of you.”

“are you?” he spits. his hands stay glued to his sides and you pull away, dropping your own. “cole’s on his way. wouldn’t you rather see him instead?”

“what are you talking about?”

“you seem to be real fucking close these days. you’re with him more than you’re with me, so is it wrong for me to just assume that you’re fucking him too?” your mouth gapes at his words.

“are you accusing me of cheating on you?” you lower your voice, very aware of his teammates that could definitely hear your conversation. he shrugs his shoulders, crossing his arms over his chest. “i know how you get after losses, but for you to go as far as to accuse me of cheating on you with a member of your team-”

“it’s fucking obvious, y/n. you’re so flirty with each other, sitting next to each other on the plane, and that shit in the locker room. i’m not oblivious.”

“fuck you, dude. i have given up so much for you and the fact that you can stand there and accuse me of doing that to you after everything that we’ve been through over the last five years, makes me wonder if it was even worth it.” you turn on your heel and march towards the bus, leaving him standing there looking shocked. you make your way up the stairs and the bus goes quiet as they stare at you, obviously having heard what happened outside. you swallow, “i’m sorry about that.”

you make your way back to your seat and grab your computer, propping your feet on the empty seat and shrinking against the window. the tears threaten to spill out from your eyes, but you don’t let them. once everyone is accounted for, the bus pulls away from the arena and heads for the hotel.

you run your fingers against your temples, trying to soothe the headache that had developed in the last five minutes. you could feel eyes on you and you look up to find jack sitting in the row of seats beside you. he opens his mouth to speak, but you shake your head, “please don’t.”

you grab your phone and quickly go to your messages, finding david’s contact and shooting your fingers across the screen quickly:

do you still feel like going out??

we have curfew

and after what just happened it doesn’t seem like a good idea

curfew is midnight and it’s not even ten yet. we’ll have a couple hours and after what just happened, going out seems like a great idea

are you in or not? because i’m going even if i have to go alone

let me go to my room first and i’ll meet you in the lobby

when you woke up the next morning, you were still tired. you had barely slept and the last thing you remembered before you were able to slip into unconsciousness was the sun slowly starting to peek through the window of your hotel room.

it took a few seconds for it to register that someone was pounding on your door. with a grunt, you throw the sheets away from your body and stumble towards the door. you look out of the peephole and your stomach sinks at who is standing on the other side. you undo the deadbolt and pull it open, “you should not be here.”

“don’t worry, he’s the one who sent me here. he also sent this and,” he pulls out a bouquet from behind his back, “these.”

“that’s not going to make me forgive him,” you shake your head and accept the flowers and the coffee cup from cole anyway, gesturing for him to come inside.

“believe me, we all told him that,” cole takes a seat on the spare bed and you look at him with a confused gaze. he raises an eyebrow, “y/n, you have the entire hockey team behind you. we’ve been giving him hell all night. dom even bunked with brock and jack in protest. also, i’m pretty sure that coach found out and brought him back down to earth, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

“did he-” you can’t even say it.

“no, he didn’t lose the c, but coach was very adamant that what happened was not captain behavior and that he’s on very thin ice,” he pauses for a minute and then grins, “ha, thin ice.”

you shake your head and lean against the desk in the corner of the room, “that’s good then.”

“he accused you of cheating on him and you’re worried about his letter status?”

“you don’t understand, cole,” he looks at you in a way that says ‘well, help me understand.’ you sigh, “we’ve been together since we were sixteen and seventeen years old. we’ve known each other even longer. i’ve watched him work his ass off and sacrifice so much to get where he is. the thought of him losing that over him saying some dumbass thing because he was pissed off breaks my heart in more ways than one. do i think that he’s an absolute asshole right now? absolutely. do i want to look at him? not really. but i still love him, cole. and i always will.”

he looks at you for a second before he pretends to wipe a tear from his eye, “really tugged on the heartstrings there, y/n. love is a crazy thing.”

“indeed it is. now get out of my room. i need to get ready for the day and i’m slightly hungover and hotel breakfast food sounds amazing right now,” you follow him towards the door.

“oh and just so we’re clear,” he shoves his hands in the pockets of his jacket as he faces you, “i made it very clear that you are way too old for me.”

you shove his shoulder, “considering that he’s the only exception for dating someone younger than me, you are way too young for me, cole caufield.”

“glad that we have an understanding,” he holds up his hand and you smack yours against it. with a grin, he makes his way towards the elevator and you close the door behind him.

you take your time getting ready, trying to hide the fact that you were recovering from a little too much alcohol you had practically inhaled at some bar downtown the night before that you couldn’t even remember the name of. you make sure all of your things are gathered and together because you knew that you wouldn’t want to do it when you returned.

you grab the things that you would need for the game and head downstairs. you walk into the conference room that had been set aside for the team and immediately head to grab your food. once your plate was piled high, you turn to find an empty and immediately your eyes lock with his. just by looking at him, you can tell that he hadn’t slept and even if he did, it wasn’t much.

your attention is pulled away from him by a shout of your name. owen is waving you over and shay is pointing at an empty seat, “we called dibs on you this morning.”

“too soon, lindy,” robbie shakes his head as you take the seat between owen and dylan. he looks at you concerned, “you good?”

“don’t worry about me boys. you have a game to win today and that’s what you should be focused on,” you try and distract them but none of them are buying what you’re trying to sell. you twist the cap off your water and take a sip before grabbing your fork, “seriously boys, i appreciate your concern, but i’m okay. i promise.”

“if you want us to beat him up for you, just say the word,” dylan offers and the table agrees. you raise an eyebrow, “we discussed it last night and we also have first dibs on defending your honor if you asked us to.”

“his roommates are next in line,” ryder points his fork at you and you smile.

“i’m glad to know that you would beat up your captain for me, boys.”

“he may be captain, but no one disrespects our y/n and gets away with it. who would give us stickers then?”

“we can’t have anything because of you, shay. she’s more than just the damn stickers.”

three o’clock comes quick and before you know it, you’re making your way down the tunnel to cheer for them as they come out, just as you always did. you clap as they line up in front of you. you avoid looking at him until you feel a tap on your ankle. you look down just in time to see a hockey stick being pulled away. you look up to find its owner staring right back at you, apologetically.

he nods his head, “i love you.”

“i love you too, twenty-one. don’t do anything stupid,” you cross your arms over your chest and give him your best ‘i’m not joking look.’ it was part of the routine that you two had developed over the last couple of years, and even though there was still some obvious tension between the two of you that had yet to be resolved, he hadn’t missed his chance to continue it.

he chuckles right as the announcer booms to the crowd to welcome them to the ice, “no promises.”

you watch as they file out, the cheers for them were not as loud as they were when you were on home ice, but you made sure to scream as loud as always. you and david make quick work of getting to your seats and he wasted no time in sending you a look, “are you-”

“we haven’t talked yet, no. we probably won’t even have time until we’re back home, but just because he’s being an asshole doesn’t mean i love him any less,” you defend yourself and he hums, looking out onto the ice.

when they get in position for puck drop, an uneasy feeling develops in your stomach. you try not to think about it as the puck hits the ice and the game begins, but unfortunately, it didn’t last long.

it was some freshman lineman known for being a menace. he’d been practically on top of ty every time that he got on the ice, shoving him when he didn’t have the puck, almost tripping him once, and of course, the refs were in their own little worlds and hadn’t called a penalty for anything.

eight minutes into the game was when it happened and when it happened, it happened quickly. you barely had time to blink before their gloves were off and their hands were tangled in each other’s jerseys. you stand up, watching as your boyfriend loses the upper hand quickly. in a matter of seconds, his helmet is somehow knocked off and he’s hitting the ice and-

he’s not moving.

“get the fuck up ty,” your hand covers your mouth as the trainers rush out onto the ice after they pull the guy off of him. you can see on the screen that he’s smirking as he’s led off the ice and down their tunnel. david grabs onto your arm as you stumble, “please get up baby.”

“y/n,” he says, but you don’t respond.

you let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding when ty moves, taking a minute before he gets up with a lot of help from the trainers. you watch as he’s led off the ice and you swallow at the blood on his jersey. you turn towards david, “i have to-”

“go, babe. i can cover this. go check on him,” that was all that you needed before you scoot out of your row and quickly make your way down the stairs.

you wind up outside the locker room where you're stopped by a security guard. you hold up your badge that showed that you had permission to be there, but he gave you a disapproving look as he shakes his head. you pull out your phone, but anna walks out just in time, “anna!”

“i was just coming to get you,” she sighs, glaring at the security guard as he finally lets you pass. she wraps a hand around your arm as she leads you back to the room, “we’re pretty sure he has a minor concussion at least. paul’s giving him a check-up now and he’s going to decide what to do from there.”

“has he said anything?” you ask, mind running wild as it thinks of the worst.

“the only thing he asked for, even when he came to, was he wanted to see his wife. i told him that you weren’t married, but he wouldn’t hear it. it was just ‘my wife, my wife, my wife’ and that’s why i was coming to get you. he said if he has to go to the hospital or anything, he’s not going if you’re not there with him,” she says and you take a deep breath. she squeezes your arm as you stop outside of the closed door, “just don’t be too loud. he’s very sensitive to light and noise right now.”

“of course,” you nod and she opens the door. the lights were dimmed just a little, but you still easily spot him in the middle of the bed. paul stands beside him, checking on him while he sits up. he pulls away from paul’s hands and moves to get up, but you quickly get to his side, placing your hand on his shoulder and grabbing his hand, “don’t move, ty. let him do what he needs to do.”

“baby,” he whimpers and you squeeze his hand, pulling it up to your mouth and pressing a kiss to the skin. throughout the entire process, he doesn’t let go. he answers what he’s asked and when paul moves away, he pulls you close, “baby.”

“i know. i’m sorry,” you wrap your arm around his neck and press a soft kiss to the side of his head when he tucks his face into your neck.

“the good news is that i don’t think that you need to go to the emergency room,” paul announces, leaning against a table backed against the wall. he looks at the two of you, “but i don’t feel comfortable sending you back out there. you’ve got a minor concussion and if they aren’t treated right, they can go bad quick.”

“i know,” he says, squeezing your hip.

“so, what do we need to do?” you ask.

“i’m gonna see if i can get the bus to drop you guys back off at the hotel. he needs rest right now and it’ll be hard to get that in this environment,” he shakes his head, “who are you rooming with, ty?”

he winces at the sound of a muffled goal horn and you answer for him, “mersch.”

“if i give you a list of what to do, do you think that you can watch over him?”

“of course,” you nod and ty shifts.

“great. i know that he’s not supposed to be in your room after certain hours, but i think that coach will agree with me that in these circumstances, it’s necessary,” he says and you hum.

after he tells you the basics and makes sure that you have his phone number if you need something, you pull away from ty, “i’m gonna go and grab you some clothes, okay? i know you don’t want to be in that on the bus.”

“please don’t go,” he pleads, holding onto your hand as you go to step away. “you’re gonna leave me because of what i said.”

you look at paul briefly who looks concerned. at least there was someone who was out of the loop.

you shake your head and rub at his cheek, “no, baby. i’m coming back i promise. i’m just gonna go get your clothes from the locker room that’s right across the hall.”

“i’ll come with you,” he insists, moving to stand up.

both you and paul are quick to push him back down as gently as possible. paul pats his chest, “you can stay here with me big guy. i still have a couple of questions for you.”

hesitantly, he lets your hand go as you promise him once more that you were coming back. you make your way across the hall and find his stall, digging through his things to find some clothes for him that were not his suit.

once you find some sweats and a hoodie, you turn on your heel just as the boys start to file in. jack is the first to speak up, “is he okay?”

“minor concussion and as of right now, he doesn’t need to go to the emergency room, but paul’s pulling him for the game. i think we’re getting sent to the hotel where he’s going to be on mandatory rest until he gets checked on again before we leave tomorrow. so, please, i love you all so much and he does too, but just let him sleep. we don’t want this to turn into something major,” you give them all pleading eyes and they all nod.

you walk back across the hall to find coach talking with paul and ty laying back on the bed. instantly, he reaches out for you. granato looks at you, “you’re going to make sure he’s okay?”

“i’m going to try my best,” you assure him and he nods.

“i trust you a hell of a lot more than i trust mersch when it comes to these types of things,” he looks over to ty and pats his leg, “the bus is taking you two back to the hotel where you’re going to rest, got it?”

“yes sir,” he mumbles, eyes closed.

granato and paul leave the room as ty gets dressed. he does need some assistance and when he’s finally out of his gear, he sighs, “i never realized how extensive all of that was.”

“tell me about it,” you mumble. you look at him, “are you ready? do you think that you can get to the bus?”

“if you’ll go slow. you always walk so fast,” he complains and you grin. he throws an arm over your shoulder and you wrap an arm around his waist. you walk out of the door and he pauses, looking into the locker room, “can i-”

“you’ve probably got a minute or two before they have to go back,” you say and he nods. with help from you, he limps over to the doorway and the room goes quiet.

“boys,” he says, standing in front of you, but reaching out behind him for your hand. you take it and squeeze, “what’s the score?”

“we’re leading with one,” the other ty says and he nods. “you good, cap?”

“minor concussion, nothing i can’t handle. plus, i’ve got a good babysitter for tonight,” he turns to look at you with a grin and you send a small smile back. “win it, boys. don’t worry about me, just win.”

“tough speech, eh?” dom calls and some of the boys chuckle.

“did you miss the part about the concussion?” ty asks and dom rolls his eyes. “love you boys.”

there’s an echo of his admission before you finally began the trek to the bus. you take up a row in the middle, ty taking the seat by the window and resting his head on your shoulder. you trace the veins on his hand as the bus takes you back to the hotel, the entire trip spent in silence.

once you get him inside your hotel room, he wastes no time crawling into bed. he looks at you hopefully, “will you lay with me?”

“let me get out of these jeans,” you find a pair of shorts and a too-big t-shirt that belonged to him at some point before you slip in beside him.

he presses himself to your chest and you card your fingers through his hair, “i’m sorry about what i said, y/n.”

“not now, ty. you need to rest.”

he sighs, but he doesn’t argue. it wasn’t long before his breathing evens out and he goes limp against you, leaving you to your thoughts.

“rise and shine,” you mumble, poking at his cheek. he groans, curling his fingers in the fabric of your t-shirt as he shakes his head. “baby, you have to get up every few hours. aren’t you hungry?”

“do you have food?” he asks, not opening his eyes.

“i can order some, but you have to tell me what you want. i can’t read your mind,” he rolls over then, stretching his arms out over his head. “how do you feel?”

“my head hurts and my body’s sore,” he says. “i didn’t break anything, did i?”

“do you think that you did?” you raise your eyebrows, ready to reach for your phone to call paul.

“no, no, i just- i remember hitting the ice and not much else after. i remember when i came to that anna was standing over me and i wanted you, but you weren’t there. i was looking for you in the stands, but i couldn’t find you. i- i thought that you were gone.”

“i was there ty. they just moved our seats tonight because someone had those already. i’m not leaving, i would never leave,” you assure him, running your hand along his cheek. “we don’t need to talk about this right now. you need to eat and rest-”

“i want to talk about it though. it’s been eating me up inside ever since i said it,” he looks at you pleadingly and you sigh. “i was an ass.”

“you were,” you agree and he chuckles. “the thing is, it’s not even really so much that you think that i would do that to you. yes, it obviously hurt, but it’s more so the fact that you would do it in public. the entire team heard you.”

“i know and believe me, i’ve already had my ass chewed out about it by everyone in that locker room, and i mean everyone. you have an entire hockey team behind your back on this one.”

“they told me. they’re also forming a line to beat you up if i needed them to which is nice,” you smile. it’s quiet for a moment before you speak again, “why did you do it? that’s what i want to know.”

“because i was angry. i was angry about the game last night and i saw you and cole. i know you’re just friends and that you’ve been helping him with his school stuff or whatever, but when you were on the plane, you were just so giggly or whatever. than that in the locker room-”

“we were just playing around, ty. he’s literally like my little brother.”

“and i know that. he made it very clear last night that you are too old for him.”

“we have an understanding,” ty presses his lips to your shoulder and you swallow. “i’m still mad at you. i forgive you, but i’m still mad.”

“you have every right to be. what i said was out of line and uncalled for, i’m surprised that you’re talking to me right now,” he chuckles, wincing as he presses his fingers to the side of his head. “oh yeah, that’s why.”

“i can’t give you anything for another couple of hours. ‘m sorry, love,” you push his hair away from his face.

“can i ask you something?” he asks and you hum. “last night, you said that you’ve given up so much to be with me and i don’t doubt that you have, i know that you have, but is there something that you’re not telling me.”

“it’s not important,” you shake your head.

he sits up then, staring down at you, “what is it, y/n?”

“do you- um, do you remember when i applied for that internship for digital marketing the summer after you graduated? after my freshman year?” you ask, pushing yourself up and scooting back against the headboard.

“yeah, you didn’t get it,” he looks at you confused. you look down at your hands and he takes a deep breath, “y/n, you didn’t-”

“they wanted me to fly to new york on draft weekend and i explained that i couldn’t then, but i could on monday. i wasn’t going to miss hearing your name being called or watching you put on that jersey, ty. they told me if i couldn’t be there on that saturday to just not bother,” you explain, “and instead of getting on a plane to new york, i got on one for dallas with you.”

“that would’ve given you so many opportunities, y/n. why would you do that?”

“because i love you and we’d been talking about it for years, you getting drafted. there was no way in hell i was going to miss it,” you shrug. “it’s fine though. i got the hockey gig and now we spend an almost unhealthy amount of time together so-”

“but that would’ve been so much better for you. you could’ve gone anywhere with that. europe, australia, anywhere. working for a college hockey team won’t look as good on job applications as that internship would have.”

“it’s in the past now. don’t worry about it. i’m happy where i am,” he reaches out for your hand and you curl your fingers around his. “wherever you are, that’s where i’m happy. fuck new york, europe, australia, or wherever. wisconsin is good for me right now. me and you, that’s all that matters.”

“it’s me and you, baby,” he mumbles and you smile, “me and you against the world, just like we’ve always said.”

#ty emberson #ty emberson imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #college hockey imagine #wisconsin badgers #arizona coyotes #my work

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citrus-himmel · 4 years ago

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Breakfast Endeavors ;;;

Nami finds the perfect opportunity to get Law back for something he'd done in the past and she enjoys every second of it...

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2,162

Nami entered into the galley with a yawn, arms stretching high above her head. It was still fairly early, but the entire crew was up by this point, causing their typical ruckus. She normally liked sleeping in, but even with the women's sleeping quarters on the opposite side of the lawn deck, the noise her crew made had woke her up, much to her displeasure.

With a sigh and some strategic manoeuvring so she didn't get hit with food flung around by her Captain, she plopped down into her designated seat. Law was in his usual seat to her right, picking at his plate of breakfast. She gave him a small smile while she reached for the pitcher of orange juice and poured herself a glass. He returned it with a grunt, mouth currently full of food and eyes wandering around to make sure his breakfast was still safe from thieving, rubbery hands.

Chopper, Bepo and Robin were the only three not currently cramped within the galley, Nami noted. She'd seen Bepo on the lawn deck with Robin when she made her way over, enjoying her morning cup of tea. It was a smart place to be, much more peaceful than the chaos unfolding in front of her. Chopper was more than likely in the infirmary, one of the only other spots Sanji would allow him to eat, and he wouldn't let the little reindeer go hungry, no matter what.

Honestly, it was the perfect scenario for the plan she had cooked up while laying in bed the night before. With both residents who had an enhanced sense of smell out of the equation, Nami knew she had a higher chance of succeeding in her little revenge plot. A mischievous smirk unknowingly spread across her lips as she continued to pile her plate with food, excitement sparking at the prospect of what she was about to do.

It had been about a week since the shopping trip Nami had gone on where Law unexpectedly fucked her in the changing room and then left her to carry on like nothing happened. She could vividly remember the strange look she got from the shopkeeper when she emerged from behind the curtain—no doubt looking disheveled and flushed—and that was when she vowed she'd get revenge on the bastard. That revenge was just about to come to fruition, too.

Stabbing her fork into the pile of scrambled eggs on her plate, Nami tilted her head enough to watch Law's face, and when she caught his attention she quickly schooled her features into an expression of utter innocence. It instantly had Law on edge, she could see, golden eyes narrowing a fraction in suspicion.

❝ Yes, Nami-ya? ❞ he tightly asked after swallowing down the mouthful of rice he'd been chewing, one hand reaching forward for his mug of coffee.

Nami hummed at his question, focusing on meticulously chewing her eggs as she twirled her fork around in the air.

❝ Oh, nothing. ❞

Law's brow furrowed, but instead of questioning her further he simply shrugged and went about taking a drink of coffee, completely unaware of Nami's hand that had snuck under the table. He jerked when it landed on his thigh and she gave it a gentle, falsely reassuring squeeze. The gesture almost had him spilling his drink, only just managing to catch himself at the last second before the scalding liquid could slosh over the mug's rim. Wide eyes turned back in her direction, which she simply gave him her best shit eating grin, eyes glittering with mischief.

Serves you right, asshole.

Fingers gently traced along the muscles Nami could feel tensing up under the thick denim of Law's jeans, stopping at his knee before she curled her nails in and dragged. Even from where she was sitting she could hear the hitch in his throat. Good, maybe this was going to be a little easier than she'd first thought. Nami did a quick sweep of the table to make sure no one had caught on to what was going on between them. Of course not, Luffy currently the center of attention and hopefully he would be continue to keep that attention on him until she was done.

Focus back on her meal, Nami made sure to look as nonchalant as possible despite how she was now massaging the inside of Law's thigh, the underside of her wrist brushing up against his crotch every now and then from the angle. Maybe she was being a little meaner than necessary with the way she wrapped her lips around her fork, eyes darting over to watch Law's reactions every once in a while. She could feel how tense he was under her hand. Despite that, he was doing just as good of a job keeping a straight face, even if there was a slight twitch to his eyebrow, jaw a little too tight to be conveyed as a completely neutral expression.

If one looked close enough, or knew Law’s tells as well as she did, you could see the smoldering in those golden irises, promising punishment when this was all over. It had a thrill shooting up Nami's spine. Sure, this was payback for what he'd done to her, but this was their back and forth; always seeking to one-up the other whenever possible. Nami always looked forward to seeing exactly what Law would come up with next, even if at the time she would be annoyed with him, and she was sure he did the same.

Finally, Nami took a little pity on her lover—was it pity, really?—and firmly ground the heel of her palm against his slowly hardening cock, knowing the harsh line of his zipper would probably hurt a little bit, but she also knew that he liked the slight bite of pain. She watched in silence out of the corner of her eye as Law bit into his lip, muffling the barely there groan. His hips lifted from the chair to try and get more friction from her grinding, but she removed her hand quickly, tutting softly under her breath.

On the guise that she was just leaning in to say something to Law over the din of breakfast, Nami allowed her fork to drop to her plate. She pressed a gentle kiss to the sensitive skin just below the lobe of his ear, hair shielding the action from prying eyes. The temptation to take those gleaming gold hoops into her mouth was strong, but she managed to fight it off.

❝ Better be quiet, Torao. Don't want to catch the attention of my Captain, hm? ❞ Nami murmured against his skin, punctuating her statement with a firm squeeze of his cock through his jeans, relishing in the way he bucked forward with a growl.

The strain she was putting on him was clear on his face when she leaned away to sit back in her chair. He was openly glaring at her now, golden hues darkened with lust. Lips were pressed into a firm line and the tendons in his neck were a little more prominent than usual. It had pride swelling in her chest to be able to bring the Surgeon of Death to this state with just a few touches. Hopefully no one else noticed his struggle.

With a soft hum, Nami brought her hand up a little further to give a firm tug on his belt, making quick work of unbuckling and pulling the leather open, which was a feat in and of itself with only using one hand. The other had returned to grabbing her fork and shovelling more food into her mouth to keep their current activity as inconspicuous as possible.

As discreetly as she could manage, she continued undoing his pants, a grin coming to her lips at the sigh of relief that Law let out, his body visibly relaxing for a few seconds. It tensed right back up once she slipped her hand into his briefs and curled delicate fingers around his now fully hard erection, pulling it free from its confines. Lips parted on a wordless retort at being exposed to the cooler air of the galley, and before he could say anything that would reveal what was happening beneath the table, he quickly shoved another mouthful of onigiri in his mouth.

Giving his entire length a few experimental strokes, Nami soon got a decent rhythm going, wrist flicking just right when she got to the head of his cock, thumb swirling in the beads of precum that were already welling up from the slit. He was really enjoying this, wasn't he? Was the thought of being caught turning him on as much as it was her? If his bodily reactions were anything to go by, she could only assume so.

With every upstroke, she could feel his hips lifting from the chair to try and follow her hand, which he would quickly retreat back when she gave a threatening squeeze. She could just barely hear the strained noises emitting from his throat every time she rubbed at a particularly sensitive spot on his cock with her thumb, taking her time with tracing the prominent vein along the underside.

At one point he dropped one of his own hands under the table to encircle her's to try and speed things up, closing her fist more around his length to add more pressure. Nami complied for the most part, increasing her speed, and gripping his cock a little tighter when she passed over the base. She really wished she could use both hands, or her mouth to get him off. It would only add to his torture and that was exactly what she was going for. But if she was missing from the table at breakfast, suspicions would instantly arise. So this was going to have to do.

A rather audible groan had her tilting her head enough to really take Law in. He was clearly struggling with keeping himself under control now. Teeth were sunk deeply into his bottom lip, food completely forgotten on the plate in front of him, and his free hand was balled into a tight fist beside his coffee mug. He even had his eyes closed at this point, head tilted forward just enough to hide the upper portion of his face with his unruly hair. Must be close, then.

Checking to make sure they still hadn't drawn anyone's attention, Nami continued jerking him off, making it a point to squeeze where she knew he liked, and once again leaned forward to whisper in his ear. This time she indulged herself a little bit and nibbled on his earlobe just above where his earrings sat.

❝ Come on, Law. Let go for me, ❞ Nami whispered, following it up with a quiet, breathy groan of her own.

That was all it took. In the next moment Law's thighs tensed up, body visibly shuddering as his hips jerked wildly from his release. Feeling him come undone under her ministrations was exhilarating. His thick cum coating her fingers and dripping down onto his pants almost threw her over the edge as well and Nami hadn't even touched herself through this entire thing beyond clenching her thighs together. That was the type of hold he had on her and her body.

She sighed softly against the side of his neck before she leaned back, eyes fixating on the way his chest was heaving with his labored breaths. If anyone was paying attention now, they would no doubt have an idea of what just happened.

Law's face was flushed, sweat beading up along his forehead and sticking some strands of dark hair to his skin. He honestly looked fucked out, satisfied, and Nami loved it.

When he finally seemed to calm down, he opened his eyes and sent a dirty look in her direction, which she simply stuck her tongue out at him. Releasing his softening cock from her grip, she let him set himself straight as she wiped her hand off along the thigh of his jeans, much to Law's disgust. To really bring it home, Nami made sure to keep eye contact as she brought her hand up to lick off the remnants of his release from her index finger with a hum of approval, delighted to see that despite being spent, his pupils still dilated a fraction. She knew he had quite a bit of stamina, needed to with his Devil Fruit, so she could imagine he was already thinking of ways to get her back for this.

Quite satisfied with herself, Nami deliberately took her time with finishing up her meal. She washed it all down with a few long drinks of her juice before she finally stood up and walked away without another word, a smug expression crossing her features.

Little did they know, someone had caught on to what they'd just done, they just couldn't make an expression to show they had.

#one piece #cat burglar nami #trafalgar law #lawna #lawxnami #law x nami #some smutty goodness #🍊 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 ( nsfw. )#🍊 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐨��𝐬 ( smut. )#|| can't really tag it with normal tags without it getting blocked by dumblr #so this'll have to do #anyway #this was written in response to something rogue wrote... months ago #that never went beyond our little friend group #because i wasn't comfortable with my writing ability at the time #now #with some minor editting #i present it for all eyes to witness #enjoy ||

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forasecondtherewedwon · 4 years ago

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All the Belles and Whistles

Pairing: Eloise Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington Rating: T Chapters: 1/?

Summary: Eloise wants—no, needs—more from her life. Certain that only Lady Whistledown can truly understand, she follows her from the printing press after disrupting the queen's trap.

Watching the man halt in the alley next to the press, Eloise felt a surge of true accomplishment. She had stopped him, and not just him—the queen! She had dashed the plans of the queen, operating as decisively and effectively as none but Lady Whistledown herself! Her brothers may ride smartly and her elder sister practice piano with all the naturalness of one whose own pale skin has been shaped from the same ivory as the keys while Eloise was put down as a diary-scribbler and promptly dismissed, but this was a tangible triumph.

Only… she could not share it.

For a moment, Eloise stood on the cobblestones, staring as the man she had foiled caught his breath and trudged away with an unkind glare in her direction. The rattle of Lady Whistledown’s carriage was fading. Eloise spun to her driver.

“We must follow her,” she insisted, scampering up into the carriage without assistance.

“Miss… I should return you to the ball.”

He hesitated and she found she had no patience for his qualms. Disobedience, disloyalty… what were these concerns to her? Everyone must choose a side—preferably their own side, she was finding—and as he was already here, he must choose hers.

“My business is not concluded,” Eloise informed him firmly. “I need you to catch up with that carriage. It is of the utmost importance.”

She snapped the door shut and sat inside her plush cave, twisting her fingers in their satin gloves. Had it been enough? Would he believe in her authority and execute her wishes? Oh, to be her sister in this moment! Daphne did not fumble, even in inexperience. Her little missteps only made her a more charming duchess. She could likely command something so simple as a carriage with a mere smile. Ought Eloise to have smiled?

A sudden jolt set the carriage in motion and she thrilled to feel the turn it took down the alleyway, not back in the direction of the Hastings Ball. Yes. She was a woman of force and ability! A Bridgerton! She would either dramatically overtake the other carriage before revealing herself to Madame Delacroix as a familiar ally or trail her to her apartment next to the Modiste and rap at her door as the scandal sheet writer’s heart was still calming from her near capture. All would end in the pair of them regaling each other with the same adventurous tale from two different perspectives and offering a giddy stream of congratulations over what could surely be looked upon as their shared success.

Lady Whistledown would understand her. She was, perhaps, the only woman in the ton who could. She would not diminish the value of the swift action Eloise had taken or instruct her to return to the ball. She would not treat Eloise like a child. Imagine—her mother felt that she was sufficiently grown up to debut next season, but could not possibly fathom the other feats her daughter might be capable of. Eloise grinned to herself in secret pride, remembering a moment later to hold her shoulders back so as not to crumple her body or gown. She could bear anything if Lady Whistledown knew her worth and did not cause her to feel undercut or belittled, as she occasionally did in the company of her family and frequently did while stammering through her updates to Queen Charlotte. Was a prospective apprenticeship too much to hope for? Oh, it could not be acknowledged anywhere but between Eloise and Madame Delacroix, but to hone the power of her own pen under the tutelage of one with such a measure of impact on society, that would truly be a thrill.

As the carriage rolled briskly along, she pictured pages flowing with effortless writing. She would sharpen her skills for observation and concision. She would paint a picture so simultaneously lifelike and astonishing that it would shock her readers into action. What kind of action, exactly, Eloise did not know, but that was not a concern for this moment. When the time came, she would know what to say and, at that point, be amply equipped to say it.

Along a dark stretch of road, Eloise caught her reflection in the window; the jewels and band decorating her hair glimmered. What an elegant stranger. The version of herself she saw was not the self she knew. Neither, however, was a young woman who had altered her life and the lives of any future person who may appear in the continued editions of Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers by shielding that bold lady from royal censorship. Self-congratulations overwhelmed her once more. Only the sight of her own home approaching could cool Eloise’s pleasure.

Damn it all to hell. The wretched driver was neither pursuing Madame Delacroix nor depositing Eloise back with her mother. He had taken her home, where she would be forced to stew and await judgement until he returned at an unguessable time, conveying the rest of her family. Well, she would not take this lightly. Nor quietly! She would take her only recourse and bully the man that he might display a touch more fidelity the next time. She was determined that there would still be a next time. After tonight’s events, her spirit would not be quelled, her ambitions not squeezed and folded and packed into a box like the impractical cloud of a new gown from the Modiste.

Just as Eloise sank back into her seat with a huff, arms crossed tightly in her sulk, she was forced forward again by the carriage drawing to a stop on the wrong side of the road. So, he meant to punish her by obliging her to walk across the street in the dark. A small pettiness and all the meaner for its triviality.

She felt the tilt of the carriage that signified the driver’s dismount and turned her head away from the door at the handle’s click. He would see her displeasure, never mind that it might encompass unfortunate similarities to the bad behaviour of her youngest siblings.

“Miss, do you not wish to follow her?”

Eloise snapped her head around, meeting the driver’s inquiring expression with one of bafflement.

“Follow her? Follow who?”

“The object of your… chase. She disembarked only as we drew up.”

Not a betrayal! Miraculous! She nodded to him with an appreciative jerk of her head and he stepped quickly back as she sprung to the ground.

Drawing her fluttering wrapper about her, Eloise marched on the Featherington house. Her step hiccupped with a sudden misgiving; whyever would Madame Delacroix flee here? What circumstance had made this residence a safe haven for her? Last Eloise had heard from Pen, the Featheringtons and their preferred dressmaker were rather at odds over new dresses or delayed payment or some other silly misunderstanding. True, she had seen the ladies of this house clad in freshly-made gowns only this evening, but whatever quarrel had preceded their fabrication could not have been so hastily and thoroughly resolved as to make the Modiste’s mistress a great favourite with the defensive Baroness Featherington.

What if… what if the figure who had vanished inside were not Lady Whistledown? What if they had somehow dogged the wrong carriage? No, Eloise decided. Impossible. Dumping her at home for a reprimanding by her mother was one thing, but making a fool of her by tricking her into mistakenly confronting Baroness Featherington would cost the Bridgertons’ driver his employment. He would not dare. She darted a look behind her to see him gathering the reins, dutiful enough not to trot off and leave her until she had entered one house or the other. Well. She must not allow her courage to flag within view of an audience.

Something about the carriage that had conveyed Lady Whistledown struck Eloise, niggling her brain, but that brain was too full to properly examine the thought, allowing it to stray beyond imminent recovery. She was excitable, gathering her skirt out of the way of her feet as she flew to the Featheringtons’ front door. Knocking would only disturb the household servants further, and perhaps Madame Delacroix had not alerted them at all. Eloise would likewise slip inside, as though to attend some sort of meeting in shadows, the kind of thing she had pictured her brothers doing when she was a child, failing to understand that the activities of their ‘club’ comprised nothing more than boorish talk and overenthusiastic imbibing. Men were dull creatures, she ruled, pushing inside and catching her gaze on the swirl of a blue cloak as its wearer turned at the intrusion. Whereas women were…

Lady Whistledown lowered her hood and Eloise’s fine new shoes skidded to a stop.

#my writing #yes that's right I'm writing for ANOTHER fandom #don't at me #Bridgerton #Bridgerton fanfiction #Eloise Bridgerton #Penelope Featherington #Eloise x Penelope

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dark-mnjiro · 4 years ago

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isn’t it lovely? [all alone]

Theme: fluff, angst, angry outburst, anxiety/depression comfort, 707/saeyoung x f!reader/mc one-shot

Warnings: language, mentions of self hate, depictions of depression/anxiety, panic attack

Author’s Note: I love my little, redhead hacker boi and I love his route in mystic messenger so I couldn’t just not write about when Seven and MC lived in the apartment together and dealt with his mental health issues. I don’t know if this is even written that well, but I found it super therapeutic right now.

----

Crimson hair feathered his forehead, hiding the wrinkles of concentration while his honey-colored eyes squinted at the text on the screen. His friends all lost in conversation, having not noticed his unusual silence. His hand moved to his chest, gripping his red t-shirt as his heartbeat quickened. This feeling was so foreign, so unlike him… why was this happening?

Chewing his lower lip, his free hand adjusted his striped glasses before raking his fingers through his hair and out of his face. His eyes darted down to the small digital clock on his computer screen checking the time. It couldn’t be that late, right? Anxiety began creeping up in the back of his mind causing a leg to bounce uncomfortably under his desk.

Maybe he should check the cameras…

“It’s been two-point twenty-five seconds right?” he wondered aloud to himself.

The mouse moved across the screen as he moved the group chat to his other screen before glancing over the cameras in the apartment. He flipped between each different camera display before settling on a bedroom. Leaning in, he chewed on his lower lip watching the silhouette of a female figure under a blanket seemingly asleep now with each gentle inhale and exhale of breath.

Settling back against the back of his gaming chair, a sigh fell from the red head’s lips. “Sleeping are we?” he said softly as his lips curled up into a gentle smile before glancing back at the group chat. A slew of messages pestering him, questioning the whereabouts of—

“Oh for fuck’s sake…”

His fingers quickly typing back small quips and playful insults toward his friends before his eyes stole a glance at the sleeping figure again. He watched as you began to stir lightly, a small moan escaping your lips as you stretched… his cheeks flushed a dusty pink color at the sheer innocence of the sound.

“...damn,” he cursed as his heart raced once again. “Silly girl. Always embarrassing me. Still, I can’t help but wonder if this is safe if anything happened to you…” He paused for a moment before a painful groan rumbled from his chest at the idea of any harm falling on you. “I have to stay focused. I have to protect you, even if it breaks your heart.”

He pushed his chair back away from his desk before standing up, making his way out of his bedroom. Holding his breath, he made his way to your bedroom before leaning against the door frame. “Why the hell am I here?” he mumbled, watching your body shift lightly in bed as he found himself lost in watching your rhythmic breathing.

“Seven?”

His body tensed before jumping back and hiding behind the wall. “Shit,” he hissed. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

“I caught you~”

Seven felt embarrassment creeping up his spine and his neck. Perhaps silence was his best defense, maybe it would give him enough time to sneak back to his temporary computer set up…

“Whatcha doin’ Seven?”

His body tensed again before nervously glancing down at the smiling face beside him, almost lighting up your eyes… He gulped, cursing himself inwardly at how weak those sparkling eyes made him.

“I was checking the camera,” he quickly lied, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, praying to God that you wouldn’t notice the blush creeping over his features. “The picture was glitching.”

Tilting your head, the smile on your face grew wider. “But the camera is on the other side of the room,” you replied as a giggle bubbled from your throat before you pointed out the camera that was indeed on the other side of the room.

Fuck…

Seven sighed, trying to mask his growing attraction toward you with sheer irritation instead. “God, why does it matter?” he asked, his voice switching to low and annoyed. “I was checking the damn camera. I already told you I don’t care about you!”

Your eyes squinted as you merely smiled more at him, causing the embarrassment creeping up his neck to flush his cheeks with a pink hue. “Oh?” you asked. “You weren’t checking up on me at all?”

“I mean I had to make sure you hadn’t run away,” Seven countered. “You’re so naive-” Seven was quickly cut off by you erupting in laughter before you moved past him and headed toward the kitchen. His eyes followed your movement, squinting suspiciously as he tried to gauge just what on Earth was wrong with you? No matter what he said, no matter what he did…

He found his feet moved on their own, following you into the kitchen as he leaned against the wall as he watched you begin fiddling around with preparations for lunch. His arms crossed over his chest before catching your eyes glance at him over your shoulder. You flashed a smile and immediately he felt he couldn’t breathe again…

“Are you hungry Seven?”

“No, I’m—”

The sound of his stomach growling betrayed his charade as you giggled at him. His face flushed again before shooting a glare in your direction.

“Sit down,” you tutted. “I’m almost done with lunch. It’s not much but it’s something…”

Seven slumped into the seat, groaning inwardly at how he was stuck in this never-ending predicament with you. No matter how hard he tried to push back, you just simply ran back to him faster. He found himself growing weaker by the moment, despite his angry outbursts and feeble attempts to keep you and your feelings at bay. To be honest, he wanted nothing more than to let you in… to be close to you. But, if something were to happen to you because of who he was, his stomach dropped at the mere thought.

No, he had to keep you away.

“Here!” You set a small plate of a sandwich and even his favorite chips down in front of him before accompanying the meal with a can of his favorite soft drink.

His eyes glanced up from the plate to catch your eyes causing his heart to race. What was it about you that made him feel so ridiculous? Like a damn child… He quickly tore his gaze away from you by stuffing the chips into his mouth.

“I hope you like it Seven.”

There you go again, worrying about him and his wants and needs and not your own. Stupid girl, he thought. He picked up the sandwich before taking a rather large bite before glancing up at you again and catching you staring back at him with a smile still on your face. His eyes quickly diverted away back to his plate as he continued to try and focus on eating. “It’s good,” he mumbled after finishing it. For the first time in weeks, he felt full having finally eaten a decent meal and not just his favorite chips…

Seven hadn’t quite grasped just how hungry he had become as he wolfed down the small meal you had prepared. He wondered if maybe he was overworking himself… but my god this food was just perfect. And you…

He caught himself staring at you before a giggle bubbled from your throat as you tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He couldn’t begin to understand what you could be so nervous about, he was the fool. He was an utter fool.

“...hey,” he mumbled, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away from you.

Tilting your head, you smiled more. “Yes, Seven?”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I’ve had to say some awful things to you… but, just know… I can’t get close to you or else they’ll hurt you. Please understand if something happened to you—” He paused as his voice shook in fear as the sheer thought of the agency finding out about you… torturing you… killing you…

Your hand quickly went out to comfort him. “Seven—”

His hand shot up to silence you as he jumped to his feet. He could feel his heart racing once again before he made a beeline for his computer set up. Panting as anxiety began to flood his chest, he stared at the dark computer screen. Tears beaded at the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall…

He hated this part of himself.

God, how he wished he was more like the 707 persona he portrayed himself I the messenger. The Seven that you seemingly had fallen for, it wasn’t the real him and with that, he felt disgusting. He felt as if he were a liar. He could never be that man that promised to marry you in outer space one day, no. He was nothing more than an illusion that could never bring you happiness.

“Seven?”

It was you peeking in the doorway as you heard him snuggling back his tears and quickly wiping his eyes. The will to not breakdown in front of you was becoming more difficult the more time he spent with you. You were breaking through each wall, each challenge.

And each time, he had to get meaner, colder.

“What?” he snapped, keeping his back to you.

Your footsteps rang in his ears causing his back to go rigid. No no no, you couldn’t see him this weak, this feeble. You kneeled behind him and before he could protest wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. His body stiffened, even fought for a moment trying to tug himself away from you.

“Please,” he begged. “Just go… you can’t see me like this…”

“But I want to see all of you, Seven,” you whispered back gently. “The good and the bad.”

“You can’t possibly mean that.”

“Seven. You know I do. You just won’t accept it.”

His eyes widened as he could feel his heart rate beginning to slow to a pace he could handle again. “I’m nothing you know,” he mumbled. “Absolutely nothing. I can’t offer you anything and you deserve the world. All I can do is sit here in the dark losing my God damn mind like a fool.”

“You’re not a fool,” you replied, tightening your grip around him. “You’re just lost… and I want to help you.”

His body relaxed, knowing he couldn’t resist anymore. The anxiety seemed to melt away the instant you would speak and reassure him of his existence and how he mattered to you and his friends. “Please don’t regret this,” was all he could say.

“...never.”

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soundsaboutrighttumblr · 4 years ago

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WBL meta: Fighting Mr. 2nd, Ep 1

Just getting some thoughts out and sorted, join me if you wanna:

Topics this meta ramble will touch on: The sexual aggression in Shu Yi’s anger and the misunderstanding/cheating; Shi De’s regret and masochism and still carrying it all alone, that last scene, some minor speculations about DAD.

This all is written under the assumption that Shi De did not cheat, but that somehow Shu Yi came to the conclusion that he did. If alone by seeing him with that woman and child after one year, or if some additional forces might have been at work to convince him so.

Shu Yi’s Dad, the trailers make you look bad, maybe it’s just the way teasers work and you will be abdicated from those suspicions, but for now, I assume it’s you meddling in some way or other, may your intentions be what they will. I still suspect it was you who got to Shi De after 2 years when he first came back, and appealing to his responsibility -and guilt -for Shu Yi, to end it now when he is getting over you, rather than to give him that difficult life with a man at his side.

So there might also have been some strewn in comments to Shu Yi about Shi De moving on with someone else, at the one year past mark, feeding into the cheating narrative, or something more solid, that Dad gave Shu Yi, I just think it must have been a little bit more than just seeing him then, to believe it enough to completely retreat and call it off.

Not much though. Because as the notes about being young and immature say, the distance alone between them makes them unsure. In a way that they might never have been unsure, had they been in the same room, which is important for the last scene in this episode, because here Shu Yi visibly struggles to reconcile the Shi De that’s so earnest in front of him, and that he must remember from before, with the big statements of love and forever and those eyes, that Shi De that really has a hold on him, with the one that clashes with it, the one he build up in his mind over 5 years to get closure and protect himself, the one bastard that cheated and is lying to him.

Shi De has no fucking clue though. He operates under the assumption that his only ‘crime’ is to have taken 5 years instead of months and having made Shu Yi wait. Mind you, he regrets that alone so much it buries him under all the guilt and regret, and masochist that sometimes he is at heart, he rather takes all the general blame for it all, anything that Shu Yi throws his way, than to defend himself in the face of Shu Yi’s anger, because yes, he feels the anger is valid, even if it takes on that tone that his mind protests, his heart still is willing to take all the blows. From that anger that he still thinks is the anger Yu Xin has warned him about, that, even if blown up tenfold, he shouldn’t take to heart, and just has to weather out with determination and staying by Shu Yi’s side, even if it is reasonable bigger than just a minor fight.

He gets really confused by the sexual aggression of Shu Yi’s attacks, though, because doesn’t understand why Shu Yi would take that tone for his anger. For Shu Yi, I think it’s about hurting Shi De in that way that Shu Yi felt hurt by his cheating. Sex with somone else was assumedly used to hurt Shu yi, now he’ll use sex to cause Shi De hurt and degrade him someow, it’s a fuzzy connection but I think one that Shu Yi makes somehow.

The ‘women are better’ speech is as much to belittle and provoke Shi De as it is directed at the cheating situation, which of course flies by Shi De, because he didn’t, doesn’t even know of that suspicion or verdict. The fact that he is so confused by it makes me even more sure, he did not cheat, would never, come one, only you. He actually says that Shu Yi can be mad, but that he doesn’t have to do it that way. So, no, he doesn’t understand what warranted that fierceness, that specific brand of anger from Shu Yi, and when Shu Yi calls it hatred, not anger, that’s not just a slap to the face, it’s a punch to the gut, and damn, Sam that acting, I physically felt your exhaustion, the reigning it in, the picking your jacket and yourself up from the floor and soldiering on.

The same confusion is in that last scene of the ep, about why Shu Yi would take that tone of sexual provocation, why make it that and bring that into their power play. But I think I’ll type an extra paragraph or two on that perfect scene.

The conclusion to this is for me, that Shi De is still so stuck in that carrying it all alone mode, the love, the guilt, the blame, that something HAS to give in the next episodes to let him grow out of it. He might have to break down first, to do so. So yeah, that next episode is gonna be whew.

That Scene.

Maybe it stands out to me so much, because I was about to write something quite similar as fic during hiatus, but I wanted to see what they did first. They practically took that dynamic I had in mind and made it heart crushingly beautiful with their faces and everything.

Shi De choses earnest determination as his weapon coming into this, Shu Yi, after offended shock, again takes to sexually loaded power play. And damn, all that happens on Shi De’s face when Shu Yi comes close, and later touches him. There is so much confusion still, about why Shu Yi would take that sexually charged approach to this, for Shi De again it doesn’t make the sense that it does for Shu Yi.

It is clear Shu Yi is making this a sexual provocation again, and his ‘want me back? Okay.” has a most obvious catch, and Shi De is trying to figure it out while being overwhelmed by having Shu I within reach and still so far away.

I don’t think they’ve let roughness like this into their sexual experience up to this point, passion, yes, but when Shi De hits the desk, you can tell from his face, this feels off, this is new, he can’t place it again, the why.

The moment Shu Yi says ‘give it to me/let’s do it’ is the moment he delivers the push that makes Shi De fall onto the desk, that makes it clear that this is actually less about sex, but more about power play, even if Shu Yi masks it in sexual gestures. He is never prepared to go through with it, I believe, which explains his sudden retreat once Shi De actually agrees. Which is the most disarming, subversive move, and Shi De intuitively knows to take it and break through Shu Yi’s defenses and his act that way.

Shi De is so conflicted, though. Imagine the touch that you want so much, have missed so much, but in that aggressive, instrumentalized way, that feels wrong and still you are overwhelmed with how much you want it and what you’d give for it. Still all the while Shi De is trying to read Shu Yi, can’t understand his choices because he misses crucial information, but is trying to get through to him nonetheless. When Shu Yi caresses up Shi De’s face, Shi De’s puzzlement, and pain, and longing, and being torn and confused… it’s all there, and damn. Wow.

I don’t think ‘giving it up to the other’ means something derogative per se for them, what makes it this utter provocation is that it is voiced as that claim through that anger. Like, do you dare? Do you dare to let me f… you when I am angry like this? When possibly the have never done THAT before? And Shu Yi only expects a no, because somehow it would be a betrayal to everything they did before at least in my head canons. Because the base is wrong. Roughness needs to happen on a base of total trust, and that is just not there in that situation, they are not equal, and Shu Yi doesn’t expect Shi De to submit in that way and give ‘himself’ up.

So when he says yes, Shu Yi is completely confused and out of his depths.

And with the walls suddenly torn down, Shi De dares to make that statement, one that ‘old’ Shi De would have made: I can do anything for you. And he has Shu Yi by his very heart then. The hold and connection might break again in the next minute, but right then, Shu Yi is completely disarmed and in Shi De’s grasp.

And so confused, because all this and his own reaction doesn’t fit into the persona he made Shi De into in his mind those last 4 years. The scheming one who cheated and lied and played with him. The one he maybe built up meaner than necessary to protect himself of the pain. This is the one he remembers too, but pushed aside, the one who talks earnestly about his love, and never seems to waver in that love. They just don’t go together, and Shu Yi is so confused.

I don’t think sex is going to happen from this scene’s continuation. But boy that scene. Shu Yi will probably snap out of it and revert to anger one more time, but a dent is made. There’s cracks in both their composures and way of handling things now, and it will have to break.

And woah, am I hyped for more. Show, you’ve raised my expectations once more. Deliver, please.

Not sure i will ever be done rambling about it, but for now, that’s it.

Feel free to talk to me about it, if you want 3

#wbl #we best love meta #we best love: fighting mr. 2nd #meta

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foreverascout · 3 years ago

Note

J E A N (hc meme)

Headcanon A-Z | Accepting

J - Joker - What’s their sense of humour like?

Jean has a pretty dry and dark sense of humour that not everyone appreciates. He has his little one liners that work quite well in a witty way. He is also very sarcastic which sometimes comes across meaner than he wants, so he tries not to use it until he knows what someone else's lines are so not to offend them.

Do they enjoy slapstick comedy?

It's a guilty pleasure yes. He does enjoy this and will sit there laughing harder than he would ever admit.

What kind of humour do they enjoy in others?

He enjoys humour that is extremely quick witted. Someone that bounces off what is happening with comments that just makes something that much funnier. Jean also appreciates people that are able to lighten the mood with something they say or do.

E - Entrepreneur - How do they make money?

Makes money by fighting titans. But I think he would become like a lumberjack or something after idk. The simple life.

Are they willing to take financial risks?

He weighs up huge spending and does enjoy having savings for a rainy day or to treat a loved one. Risks he's not huge on and would need a little to be convinced that it's a good idea.

How do they approach making deals with others?

He's sceptical and doesn't believe people give things away out of the pure goodness of their heart and would have to know someone well enough to trust that they're good on their end of the deal. Let him down once that's it.

A - Advocate - How do they show their support for others?

He's bold and will tell them personally that he supports them. He will always have their back and will stand up for them if needed. He lets them know by actions depending on what it was. He will always check in, see if they need help or are doing okay. But again it depends on what it is.

Are there any causes that they publicly support? Why?

Jean is here for supporting local businesses. He would rather pay a little more and get it from the guy down the road who spends all day at the shop to pay for his family. He would rather wait a little longer for things to be ordered into the shop than go online and buy from a big company. Everyone is working for their family, and giving to local businesses ensures where his money is going and it lets him get used to the people in his town.

N - Navigator - What’s their sense of direction like?

Jean's pretty good at direction. He knows how to read a map and knows where he's been. But it doesn't mean he wont get lost. He just wont admit it was his fault.

Do they have a set path in life that they’re planning on following? What do they do if they’re knocked off course?

He has a plan but it's not set and is happy to go along with what life gives him but he does strive to get there. He uses it for his determination and drive, to get that dream and make it a reality but he doesn't let it rule his life and choices. Sometimes it has to be put on hold to deal with the now, but he knows eventually he will get back on track.

#;headcanon #awaah thank for this #its the first time i've really had to think about some of this for JEan

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micasaessakusa · 4 years ago

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Trip over [Pt. II]

Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi x Reader Genre: Action, Angst, Mafia!AU Word Count: 1.374 words Warnings: Language, Violence

Previous chapter | Chapter II: Midnight Blue | Next chapter

Biting chill and a splitting headache greets you the moment you wake up, making you mutter a low ‘fuck’ under your breath.

Add to that? The cold, damp walls cause a shiver to run down your spine, not at all affected by the torches lit with fire outside your cell, and a quick scan of your surroundings reveals two guards stationed outside your door, while a few more line up along the hallway.

You grimace at the situation you find yourself in. What the fuck actually happened?

Any other day, you could probably take those guards down, but you’ve been rid of all your weapons and you’re left only in a plain white tee and black shorts. The thought of someone destrapping you of your gear and changing you out of your attire claws at the back of your mind, but you ignore it for now, choosing to focus instead on your current predicament. You’ll deal with that poor soul later.

There’s also absolutely nothing you could use as a weapon and the only way out is through the door that’s guarded. That leaves you with no other option but to lay low for now and wait for an opening later. Besides, the way the walls feel eerily cold and the enemy’s use of torches tell you you’re probably underground, meaning escape is totally impossible.

It might have been around a couple of hours since you’ve woken up, if your estimate is correct, before the heavy double doors at the end of the hall open to reveal a man decked in all black. The way he walks with a sense of purpose tells you he’s probably not here to frolic about and it’s just your luck that he stops in front of your cell and looks down at you with near disdain.

Slicked dark green hair, scary eyes, a resting bitch face, a hint of a white tattoo peeking from his turtleneck… have you seen this guy before?

The man barks out an order for the guards to bring you out, all while keeping his narrow slanted eyes fixed on your form. Intimidated, you back up a bit against the wall, afraid of coming anywhere near the guy who radiates danger, but you make sure to keep your facial features neutral.

No way are you going to let the enemy actually know that they scare you. No, that’s not how it’s going to be.

The two guards walk over you and haul you up, their fingers digging roughly on the flesh of your upper arms. You struggle to keep up with their pace with your still throbbing head, so you focus your strength on walking straight ahead. You can’t help but grind your teeth together from the harshness of their grips, especially when you go up several flights of stairs.

You’re breathing heavily by the time the menacing man in front of you stops and you curse yourself for not even remembering the directions you moved through. Your captain would surely be disappointed with how you’re acting right now.

Speaking of your captain… a sudden barrage of thoughts pass through your mind. Is your team okay? How many survived? How were you even ambushed? Was there a mole? What hap-- Atsumu!

Your eyes snap wide open at the memory of your colleague. Atsumu was with you before you blacked out. Was he also taken to the same place? Is he here? Is he alive? The probable presence of your teammate makes your escape plan even more complicated. Not that you already have one.

First thing’s first: you definitely have to rest your head before you can even proceed with anything.

The man in front of you, their unit captain from what you’ve gathered, opens a set of double doors to reveal a dimly-lit room that’s bare save for a low table and a couple of cushions on the floor.

“Thank you, Daishou,” a low but clear voice suddenly sounds from the man standing by the window to your left. “You may leave now.”

“Yes, Sir,” Daishou answers and the men holding you upright shove you towards the floor before exiting the room. You turn back around to look at them, seeing the man named Daishou leering at you just as the doors close behind you. You just know you’ve seen him from somewhere...

Utter silence fills the room, the other presence not once addressing you since you’ve arrived. You choose to scan the room subtly for the meantime, welcoming the much warmer feel on your skin.

With not much to take note of, you let your eyes roam the back of the man by the window instead.

His midnight blue kimono matches the scenery outside, the fabric keeping the full extent of his build hidden from your eyes. But from what you can see, his height and broad shoulders alone already prove challenging enough if you try to overpower him. Maybe you can outmaneuver him with your agility, look for a hidden weapon he would most likely have in his person, and try to escape through the window. However it w--

“Don’t even think about it.”

You swallow down your shock.

“I’m stronger than you…” It takes all your willpower to not tackle him at the moment, but he continues.

“And, say you do manage to overpower me, what’s your plan? You’re going to kill the hundreds of men we have stationed here then break free?”

Unhurried, he turns around to face you, his kimono swaying a bit from the movement, and this time…

This time you gasp.

It’s as if time has stopped and your vision has faded at the seams, your focus steady solely on nothing but him.

…endearing beauty marks...

His name rests at the tip of your tongue, wanting to escape, but you find yourself unable to speak. Breath evades you as the lump in your throat seems to increase even more in size, choking you and rendering you unable to form any words from the shock alone of seeing him again for the first time in more than a full decade.

...soft, wavy hair...

He levels you with a look of indifference, however, his stare so detached and impersonal it hits you like a whiplash. His eyes are so cold it rivals the chill you felt back in your damp cell… so apathetic it makes your mind grapple desperately to conjure up memories of him looking at you differently.

...deep, expressive dark brown orbs...

But the long years of not seeing him fails your mind, your recollection of him nothing but a blurred canvas that has unforgivingly faded through time. And now, you’re left with the blank eyes of the man in front of you.

His gaze then shifts the moment he sees you staring at him shell shocked, and he dons a smirk that snaps you back to reality.

“Ah, yes,” he starts as he stalks towards you. “It’s been a long while, hasn’t it, [Y/N]?”

As he kneels in front of you, what seems to be a thousand miles between you reduces to less than half a foot and you have to crane your neck to keep looking at his face.

“Fuck,” is all what your eloquence could produce at the moment, your mind still reeling from the reunion you never thought would happen again. Millions of thoughts filter past through your mind: explanations, excuses, words you’d rather hide from him, and you almost slap yourself from doing just that.

But you just can’t seem to process it… he’s actually here… in front of you… you can just raise your hand and you’ll be able to feel the skin you’ve yearned to touch for so long and it just--

A patronizing chuckle cuts through your internal rambling and you almost melt there and then from how much you’ve missed hearing that sound - even though this one seems just a tad meaner…

“Oddly endeared to that word, aren’t you?”

You only manage a shaky exhale as you disregard his question, still tongue tied. There and then, as you stay unmoving while you gaze into his eyes, all emotions you’ve kept locked for ten years without him come pouring out with a single whisper of his name…

“Kiyoomi.”

#Gabe writes!!#Haikyuu #Sakusa #Sakusa Kiyoomi #Haikyuu x Reader #Sakusa x Reader #Sakusa Kiyoomi x Reader #Haikyuu Mafia!AU

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jinmukangwrites · 4 years ago

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Whumptober Day 20

Lost

Ao3

Warnings: attempted kidnapping, concussions

-o-o-o-o-

When Dick opens his eyes, he immediately regrets waking up. Everything hurts… like he's just taken on a pride of lions all on his own and had the bruises to prove it. His head especially hurts, more than everything else. So much so, that it's all he can do to keep his balance as he slowly raises himself to his feet, placing his hands on the lip of something metal to keep him steady.

He pants through his nose, trying to make sense of what's going on. His head really really hurts, and every time he tries to think back on what he could have been doing before waking up here in this… alleyway?… pain spikes.

So, instead, he tries to figure out where he is now rather than where he was. First things first, he's in his Robin uniform. That's... that's good. It makes more sense for Robin to wake up with a definite concussion in the middle of some ratty alleyway than it did Dick Grayson.

Next things next, he's wet. Like. Soaked. Which is understandable considering it's raining and he's currently inside a dumpster—leaning against the walls. His bare legs are smeared with foul smelling juices, and his cape is a solid ten pounds heavier thanks towards the water. He leans his shoulder against the side of the dumpster and searches through his utility belt for his communicator, but when he finds the blocky device and pulls it out, he's disappointed to find it crushed. Little wires poke out of cracked plastic like vines splitting a rock.

He stuffs the broken communicator back into the belt and inhales sharply through his mouth. His head’s still pounding, and it doesn't feel like it will stop anytime soon. He needs to… figure out what's going on and find Bruce. Bruce doesn't like it when Dick's not by him.

Dick doesn't like it when he's not by Bruce either.

He takes in a few more breathes, preparing himself to fight through what will probably most likely be a very uncomfortable experience. Before he can change his mind, he tightens his grip on the lip of the dumpster and hefts himself over the edge.

He hits the cracked asphalt on the other side hard. He just manages to keep his feet under him as his skull pulses like the seven dwarfs were trapped inside, causing his stomach to plead for rebellion as the only thing he's aware of for a few moments is how he can feel the world spinning.

Once he's pretty sure he isn't going to keel over and throw up, he lets go of the dumpster and begins to study his surroundings. It looks like any old alleyway in Gotham. Long, dark, covered in trash and puddles. He risks light-headedness to look up, but all he finds is a cracked gargoyle staring off from the corner of one of the tall buildings making the alley.

He has… no idea where he is. If he could climb up and get a rooftop view of his surroundings, he should be able to at least pinpoint where the police department is—because Bruce told him to always pay attention to the police department, and if Dick was ever alone and needed help, he should find Jim Gordon. But… looking up makes him dizzy. The thought of climbing up to the rooftops makes him dizzy.

It's probably best he searches by foot.

Step one is leaving the alleyway.

He looks down both ends, and neither look that exciting or familiar. He curls his sopping wet cape around his shoulders and slowly begins to walk down a random direction. He only realizes that he chose the direction the gargoyle was facing when he catches it in the corners of his eyes.

Bruce likes the gargoyles.

Dick decides this should be a good direction, then.

When he reaches the end of the alleyway, he finds himself walking onto the cracked sidewalk lining a narrowed street caged by buildings that definitely look like they've been around since seventeen hundreds. There's no signs on any of the buildings, and the street names are worn down and spray painted over. If Dick had to give a guess on where he was, he'd say it's probably somewhere in the Theater District. There's no other place in Gotham that's as ratty and disgusting even on the streets where civilian's live.

He just… needs to find a payphone. Or at least a place he recognizes. He's come into the Theater District enough times, more than any other neighborhood in Gotham, in the times he's been fighting crime with Batman.

Even if it hasn't been for very long…

"Okay, Robin," he whispers to himself as he brings a hand to his temple to rub at the migraine, "you can do this…"

He turns right and goes to take a step, but then suddenly a voice calls out.

And it doesn't sound like a friendly voice.

Dick spins on his heel to look behind him—which makes him dizzy but he's just able to ignore it. His eyes immediately latch onto a group of men, some standing and some sitting with interested faces on the doorsteps of a run down home, sheltering from the rain under a little overhang, each with a cigarette hanging on almost limp fingers or at the corners of their mouths.

"Oh shit, it is Robin," one man sneers, bringing the cigarette from his mouth and huffing.

"Where's the bat?" Another man asks, sounding nervous. "They say the kid's never without the bat…"

Dick swallows and takes a weary step back as someone steps out from under the overhang with a grin on their face. "He's here…" Dick says, trying to sound brave. His voice wobbles against his will through, and he's not sure if it's from the sudden fear of being alone, faced against what must be five men each bigger, meaner, and stronger than himself… or if it was simply because of the cold rain that still poured. "So- so stay away and we won't have any… any reason to hurt you-"

"Look at him shake in those little shoes," someone laughs, joining the first man out in the rain. "He's all alone."

And Dick knows right then that he has to get away. Like. Now. These people… they didn't look friendly. Dick can't fight them, he can barely stand. If they catch him, who knows what they'll do to him. Little kids go missing in Gotham all the time… sent to horrible places Bruce doesn't want him to know about yet because he's too little.

Now all the men are out in the rain, the smoke of their cigarettes leaving a snake's tail behind them as the rain pelts against the foul smelling flame. They pick up speed, grinning maniacally… and Dick runs.

He turns heel, his breath catching in his throat and his head spinning, and runs.

Everything hurts, and his body doesn't want to move the way he needs it to. It's all he can do to duck under a grabbing hand and dodge into another alleyway. The people are hot on his heels though, even as he forces himself to run faster. He's… he's scared. His heart is in his chest and he's so cold and he just wants to cuddle up in his bed and cry.

In a split second of dangerous desperateness, Dick grabs onto his grapple and aims it towards a fire escape placed above him. He presses the trigger, preparing himself for how much this is going to suck with his concussion and nausea, but as he's about to launch upwards, something violently tugs on his neck. Dick watches in horror as the grapple flys onwards without him. He has just a split second of true despair before he's jerked back and tossed to the rough ground by the fabric of his cape.

His knees and hands scrape painfully on the asphalt, causing various cuts to open up and weep pink into the water. His neck hurts, his head spins, and he's shaking from exhaustion and fear. He tries to scramble to his feet, but then large arms wrap around his middle, pinning his arms to his side, and dragging him up so his legs kick in midair, his back pressed against someone's chest. He can smell tobacco. He can hear laughter cutting through the pounding in his heart.

"Let go!" Dick shouts, doing everything he can to choke down cries. He struggles in the grasp and kicks out his legs, but nothing works. He goes to scream at them, but one arm transfers from his chest towards his mouth and he's effectively hand-gagged.

And now he can't keep back a sob. It's all so awful. The people are all laughing and sneering while they drag him back further and further into the alley.

And for a moment, Dick thinks that this is when it will happen. This is when Bruce will swoop in and save him.

He looks up towards the rooftops, and all he finds are uselessly staring gargoyles.

Bruce isn't... coming? Dick is alone. If he wants out of this… he has to do it himself.

Which is so much easier to say that it is to do. The hand on his mouth presses harshly against his jaw, which only serves to make his skull pound worse. His limbs feel so weak to where he can only wiggle in the arms holding him captive. His kicking isn't doing anything. He's so small and light—even for an 8 year old—that his struggling is basically useless.

What can he do- what can he do?

His fingers brush on his utility belt and he almost stills. That's right, he has more things than a broken communicator and a missing grapple. Dick's not very good yet at thinking ahead and keeping track of all the tools Bruce gave him. There's so much to remember… but now he thinks… he might just be able to do something.

Which is better than giving up here and now.

"I have a buddy who works for Riddler," one man says excitingly. "Maybe we can hook up and sell the brat."

"I have some rope at my place…" another puts in. And while being the Riddler's hostage isn't exactly the worst thing in the world—much better than Joker or Scarecrow that's for sure—Dick isn't exactly eager to be put in any death traps that are riddle encrypted.

So, even as his head spins and his body shakes with both fear, adrenalin, and the cold rain, he forces himself to take in a deep breath of air through his nose before grabbing at the small, round cylinders hidden inside his belt.

He pulls them out, and before anyone can say or do anything, he presses one of the buttons.

He closes his eyes, and he knows the flash bombs have worked the moment the people around him all yell and the arms around him drop. He plummets to his feet and just manages to not faceplant by throwing his scraped up hands out in front of him. Before the flash can dim or anyone does anything, he jumps to his feet and forces his legs to move as quick as he can pump him.

He runs. And runs. And he doesn't stop, even as he blinks tears out of his eyes and gasps for breath.

He turns a random corner, as he has done several times before during this night, but he's immediately met by a solid wall of flesh. Large hands fall to his shoulders and he panics.

"Stop! Let go!" Dick throws his fists out but his wrists are immediately grabbed. Dick hiccups and struggles, even as the shadowed person tightens their hands around his arms and ignores his shouting.

Dick can't do this anymore tonight. He's so tired. A sob tears through his mouth and his legs give out. He can't he can't he can't he can't-

"Chum, calm down-" a graveled voice says, and Dick freezes like he's just been doused with a bucket of ice.

Dick… he knows that voice. Sobbing and kneeling on the soaked ground, his wrists still in tight holds, Dick opens his eyes to get a better look at his new captor.

He recognizes the jaw. The clothes. The cowl. The eyes.

Bruce.

Somehow, the realization just makes him cry harder. Only, this time, instead of trying to escape, he flings himself forward and wraps his arms around Bruce's neck the second Bruce lets go of his wrists. His throat feels clogged and snot is probably running down his nose, but he's so relieved to finally be safe. He buries his head into the crook of Batman's jaw and clutches.

Safe. He's safe.

And he thinks somewhere at the back of his mind that he shouldn't feel so safe. He's only known Bruce for a couple of months… have only been Robin for a little less.

But when Bruce finally relaxes and wraps his arms around Dick, lifting him up in a way that's so gentle and caring compared to the men who tried to kidnap him… safe is all he can think about.

Bruce speaks softly, his voice rumbling through his chest like a cat's purr, explaining that he tried his best to find Dick earlier, and that he didn't mean to take so long. He mentions something about Poison Ivy but Dick's too tired and relieved to care. His skull still pounds. He can bug Bruce later on details, figure out why he woke up in a dumpster with a concussion and no memory of how he got there.

He just holds on tighter, shaking his head when Bruce asks why he's so upset.

"I want to go home," Dick gasps through a wet sob, and Bruce stiffens all over again.

Home. Has Dick… ever thought of the manor as home before?

Before he can panic and take back the word, Bruce tightens his embrace around Dick's body and huffs. "Okay… let's go… home. We can talk later."

Dick can only nod and try to quiet his ongoing hiccupping sobs as Bruce begins to walk away. He wants to fall asleep now, especially with the adrenaline falling, but Bruce notices the concussion and forces him to stay awake until the Batmobile comes to a stop in the cave and Alfred checks him over.

He goes to bed immediately then, and when he wakes up in the morning he finds Bruce had taken the day off from work. He doesn't ask questions on why Dick was so upset the night before. He just smiles and holds up a pair of car keys.

"Zoo?"

Dick grins back, even though the concussion still hurts and will probably hurt for a long time.

But at least he's safe.

At least he's found, and he has a feeling Bruce won't let him get lost ever again. Not on his watch.

"Let me grab my shoes!"

He runs back upstairs, his mouth hurting from smiling while Bruce lets out a genuine laugh behind him.

#dick grayson #bruce wayne #nighting #batman #dick grayson is robin #dc #dc comics #batman comics #fic #fanfiction #jin writes #whumptober2020 #no.20 #lost #it ends in hugs i promise

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azure-steel · 4 years ago

Text

Plotted Mass Effect AU starter for: @sparkstorms

It had to be noted; had Cloud the choice of venue, Afterlife would quite possibly be the last place he’d choose to spend his free time; the music was too loud, and the people louder still - the next turian who decided to compliment him on his “tight waist” was going to get a hard fist right in the mandible, that was for certain. Alas, Omega had very little else in terms of relaxing entertainment lest he wanted to indulge in a spot of gambling, no strings sex or buried in deserts of red sand - none of which appealed to his tastes.

So here he was perched at the bar, surrounded by revellers of all shapes and sizes - and race - and each one a slightly different level of intoxicated. There was nothing quite more irritating than drunk people. The mercenary had made idle chit chat with the tender on duty that evening, like he always did; a young Asari maiden who was clearly in over her head, crowded behind the bar by the plethora of bodies demanding their next order. He’d offer her a hand, but the fact of the matter was he didn’t particularly want to, so he sits there nursing the mediocre brandy, not really fond of parting with the credits to earn himself a glass of the more popular and somewhat overpriced serrice Afterlife had to offer. It does the trick; slips down his throat thickly and leaves a rather pleasant burn in its wake while it fizzes nicely behind each eye. Enough at least to ease him out of another laborious day down in the docks.

He’s a little out of place here, underdressed as it were, still donning in his old, beaten armour as opposed to the fancy frills and lace of the common rabble who liked to occupy the club and get utterly shit-faced. Not that it really mattered, every single body who walked through the corridor of flames was another lump some to be added to Afterlife’s profits, and the more money Aria T’Loak made meant he’d be kept in work that little bit longer, even if Cloud had made himself rather indispensable amongst her entourage, much to the chagrin of the much bigger and meaner company she liked to keep by her throne.

Still, this evening was not unlike any other he’d spent here lamenting on the day’s events, that was until he was gifted a rather unexpected - and very unwelcome - guest there at the bar. He too wore armour and the way in which the plates knocked against the countertop gave the blond enough cause to shift his bright gaze in the man’s general direction, though not without the lazy tilt of his glass against pursed lips. He gives the guy a precautionary once over; his garb was unusual, custom built, probably, with plates of scale painted mostly in blacks and reds, the latter almost matching the shock of hair framing his face.

Cloud didn’t like the look of him, and it went without saying the expression on his face at that moment did very little to hide the fact.

#sparkstorms #{eezo stained - Mass Effect AU}#I hope this is okay #don't hesitate to let me know if you need me to change anything!

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jazzytriestowrite · 5 years ago

Text

Am I weak?

Brief Summery: Bakugo has never been good with showing his emotions and tended to keep them bottled up. After a few comments from his classmates he spirals out of control trying to figure out what is wrong with him, and if his recent kidnapping has made him weaker.

Parings: None, Just some Baku squad fluff

Warnings: Cursing, angst, panic attacks, light fluff

Word Count: 2,061

A/N; I feel like in the show, It didn't show enough of Bakugo’s mental scaring from being kidnapped. It was kinda brushed too the side, and I feel like he was bottling up some emotions during that time. anywho, this is just me making him soft and really diving deep with what happened to him. I also wrote this while bopping to sad bops and didn't really read over this? I accept criticism so comment below what you think. It’s also my first time writing so it obviously won’t be amazing, but I'm trying my best and have to start from somewhere. Enjoy!

*************************

’’SAY ONE MORE THING YOU GREEN HAIRED LOSER AND I’LL BLOW YOUR ASS INTO TOMORROW’’

The booming voice of Bakugo wasn’t anything new, and no one really paid much attention to it at this point. He always seemed to be yelling at someone about something, or boosting about how powerful he is then everyone.

‘’Why do you think they're fighting about this time?’’ Iida asked with a sigh, his eyes never leaving the tv screen. He and four others sat comfortably on the couch, enjoying a new reality tv show that had just premiered.

With a yawn, Uraraka stretched a little, wiggling her feet to get some circulation to flow. ‘’I don’t know, but it’s good to know he’s being normal after everything that has happened’’ Shifting into a comfortable position, she laid her head against Tsuyu’s shoulder.

Peering over the couch, the green haired female watched as Bakugo yelled some more in Deku’s face, the poor boy had practically turned white from fear. Turning back around, Tsuyu shrugged her shoulders, ‘’ It’s good he’s back to normal, but if he does keep acting like this, more villains and maybe civilians will think he’s a villain like the league of villains did. Ribbit. You would think he’d at least get kinder after being kidnapped’’

Mineta nodded, ‘’He’s acting like a hot shot but got kidnapped by the league of villains, you would think he’d understand that he’s weak. He’d rather pray on people weaker then him so he believes he’s strong.’’

‘’He has been meaner than usual’’ Uraraka added, before putting her hands up and waving them rapidly. ‘’Not that it’s my business’’’

Silence followed after those comments, causing the group on the couch to slowly turn around and meet the heated gaze of Bakugo. ‘’Ribbit, we hit a nerve’’ Tsuyu stated, tilting her head as she inspected the scene.

‘’Tch’’ Letting go of Deku’s shirt, he placed his hands in his sweatpants pockets and pushed passed the shaking leaf, making sure to bump his shoulder against Deku’s body. ‘’Fuck off’’ He mumbled, walking down the hallway, probably back to his dorm room.

The silence continued long after Bakugo left, no one daring to speak. One brave soldier did open his mouth, but his words did nothing to ease the tension in the air. ‘’Not cool dude, that’s probably a sensitive topic at the moment and your making it worse.’’ His red hair seemed to match his face, since said red head was doing his best to hold his own anger in.

‘’He has some problems with not being friendly, but he’s going through a lot.He’s not back to normal, if anything he’s picking fights to get his frustration out. Just think about it from his perspective. Bakugo is a male who doesn’t like to lose, to not seem weak or not in the loop. He probably felt helpless when he was kidnapped, and he might be cocky about it but no one can walk out that situation without any mental scars.I’m not saying his behavior is excused, but he’s going through something and as his classmates we should be there for him instead of tearing him down anymore. Or did I just assume that we’d all be there for each other?’’

Kirishima stood from the couch after finishing his rant, ‘’He does have an attitude, but picking at him like this won’t do anything. He’s going to be a great hero and he’s still just a teenager. He’ll learn to control his attitude, and I’ll be there every step of the way’’ Turning on his heels, he began his journey in the direction Bakugo ran off in.

Slowly, Kaminari rose from the couch ‘’Kirishima’s right, it’s obvious that his recent anger is being taken out on us, but Bakugo has never safely coped with anything. So we’re here to lead him down the right path for him to heal, because we're friends’’ Taking a deep breath, he followed after Kirishima.

‘’Come on Mina and Sero, we’ve gotta go comfort our friend’’

The two who had been standing in the kitchen, followed wordlessly after Denki, sparing a glance back at the people who sat on the couch.

—

Slamming his door closed, Bakugo stalked across his room, going straight towards an empty wall.He then proceeded too punch the wall with enough force to put a hole in it, pieces of the it crumbled onto the floor. ‘’Fucking assholes’’ he seethed, starting to pace the room.

One question flowed through his mind.

Was he weak? Was he.. was he chasing after a dream that wouldn’t come true?

‘’You hag, hit me again and I’ll kill you!’’ Bakugo shouted, his body shaking as he aimed his anger towards his mother.

Without a beat passing, he was hit hard against the head, ‘’Oh hush, if you hadn’t been so damn weak, you never would have gotten caught and caused all that trouble’’ His mother yelled, not knowing the impact of her words

Stopping in front of his mirror, he gripped the sides of the dresser. ‘’All I did was cause trouble by getting myself caught, all I did was make even more people suffer.. my weakness..’’

Looking up into the mirror, Bakugo watched as a tear rolled down his cheek, making him clench the dresser even more. Now he was crying, showing his weakness even more. ‘’FUCK’’ He screamed, pulling his fist back, he slammed it against the mirror. He hated what he was seeing.

He’d never been so weak in his life. Crying? Pitying himself? How stupid of him. What had he become? Why wasn’t he holding it together?

Glancing back up at the mirror, he saw through the cracked pieces of the mirror.. All might. Not normal all might though, his small, weak and bloody form.

Everyone was holding their breath, waiting for something to be said.. for someone to break the silence.

‘’Next… Next it’s your turn’’

Bakugo watched as many people cheered, but looking towards Deku, he noticed the tears. Glancing back at the screen, he stared at the bloody and small All might.

‘It’s your fault.. you're the one who ended all might.. all because you were weak enough to get caught’’

Grabbing his head, he shook it violently. ‘’GET OUT OF MY HEAD’’ Backing up, he tripped over his feet, causing him to hit the ground ass first.

‘’I didn’t end all might, it wasn’t my fault! It wasn’t my fault’’ More tears streamed down his face, his body shaking with pure emotion. Closing his eyes he rocked back and forth trying to get the negative thoughts out of his head.

His head hung low, his gaze on the ground as he breathed in deeply. ‘’Why did I end up having to chase after the back of someone who was always behind me. Why did a small fry like you get strong and become acknowledged by All Might? Why was it I..’’

He stuttered over his sentence, before finally looking up to meet Deku’s gaze. ‘’Why was I the one who ended All Might?’’ His body shook, ‘’If I had been stronger, and if I hadn’t been kidnapped by villains then this would have never happened’’

‘’I don’t know what to do!’’ He yelled, his eyes wide and frantic as the scene of All Might pointing at the screen continued to play in his head.

‘’It’s my fault…My weakness…I’m weak.. I ended all might because of my weakness.. I’’ Bakugo clutched his chest in pain, a silent cry coming from his mouth.

Everything was happening at such a fast pace, that Bakugo could barely register what was happening. First the room started spinning, causing the male to shake and close his eyes. Then the pain hit him. There was something pressing against his throat, making it hard for him to even breathe, let alone say anything.

His mind was on a roll, and was buzzing with new negative thoughts.

‘It’s because of you all might had to retire’’

‘’It’s because your weak’’

‘’You’ll never be a good enough hero, no one will forgive you’’

‘’You’ll only become a villain with that attitude of yours, no one will like you’’

The thoughts continued, and as they did Bakugo panicked even more. He didn’t even know what was going on, all he knew was he couldn’t breath and everything was blurry.

‘’BAKUGO!’’

He had heard the yell of Kirishima through the buzzing in his ears, and even saw through blurred vision saw four people bend in front of him. When he blinked, he noticed that arms were now around him, hugging him tightly.

‘’Hey, it’s okay.. Bakugo I need you to breathe for me okay? Everything is okay’’

He couldn’t make out who was saying it, but he opened his mouth to say something, but nothing seemed to come out.

‘’You don’t have to say anything, just breathe for me’’

With that comment, he closed his mouth and his eyes. And focused on the arms hugging his body tightly, the protection he felt from them soothed a deep pain within him. And instead of fighting against it, warm tears continued to flow down his cheeks.

‘’It's ok to cry love, it’s ok to show your emotions’’ The soft voice of Mina filled his ears, and he felt his right hand be picked up and squeezed.

Next, his left hand was picked up by another warm hand. ‘’You went through a lot, it's ok to feel how you're feeling. Your feelings are valid’’ Kaminari whispered, heart breaking slightly.

Sero who was behind Bakugo, lightly rubbed his back. ‘’We’re here for you man’’

Kirishima who pulled away from the hug and sat directly in front of Bakugo, clenched his fist in anger. Not at Bakugo, but at himself for letting him go through this alone. Grabbing Bakugou’s face in his hands, red eyes met red eyes.

‘’We love you Bakugo, and we're your friends. What Mineta and the others said out there was bullshit. Katsuki Bakugo, you are so damn strong. Way stronger than me, manlier than I could ever be. You were kidnapped for god's sake, that doesn’t make you weak. We’re only kids, you aren’t expected to take out 10 villains by yourself. You did good. You know why?’’

Kirishima himself had tears falling down his cheeks, ‘’It’s because you came back to us alive. We were so scared. All we want is for you to be better. So yell at us, hit us or even cry on our shoulders- we’ll be here for you. You aren’t weak in our eyes, you are strong. And you’ll be a strong hero, so don’t let one bad situation keep you from becoming the number one hero’’

Bakugo’s eyes went wide, the tears streaming down his face at an even faster rate. He had forgotten one big thing.. he forgot about the people he had in his corner.

He wasn’t alone..

He never was, as he had these idiots by his side.

‘’Don’t go getting all sappy on me Kiri, shit grosses me out’’

—

‘’Wait Bakugo!’’

Hearing his name called, the blonde turned around, his eyes meeting Iida’s, Uraraka, Deku and Tsuyu. ‘’What is it that you want losers’’ He said lowly, not really wanting to talk to them.

‘’We..’’ Uraraka started tugging at the end of her skirt. Stepping forward, Tsuyu began to speak. ‘’We’re sorry for what we said the other day. We weren’t taking in consideration your feelings, and made the situation worse. We wanted you to know that we're here for you’’ She stated, playing with her hands. ‘’Do you forgive us’’

Bakugo’s red eyes met all four of their gazes, before he shrugged his shoulders. ‘’Forgiven and forgotten’’ He said, turning on his heels and starting to walk away.

‘’And guys’’ He mumbled, turning his head over his shoulder, ‘’I’m sorry for taking my anger out on you’’ He said, before he continued to walk down the hall, leaving the four wide eyed and mouths hanging.

He didn’t blame them for what they said, and instead tried to reflect back on what happened. In order to heal, he needed to forgive and change.

After all,

He was going to become the #1 hero no matter what. No villain or classmate was going to change his dream.

He wasn’t weak.

He couldn't always be strong either.

Instead, he was just human. A human with emotions, and a human who wasn’t always perfect.

He was Bakugo Katsuki, a hero in training trying to become the best hero society could ask for.

#bakugo katsuki #bakugo angst #bakugo #mha #angst #bnha writing blog #bnha bakusquad #kirishima eijirou #mina ashido #sero hanta #denki kaminari #bakusquad

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angstmatsuscenarios · 5 years ago

Note

Scenario where the brothers are done of Karamatsu and ask to the Dekapan a potion of change of personality. Dekapan warns that it is not possible to reverse the effects after drinking the potion, but the brothers obviously ignore the warning. Karamatsu (after drinking the potion that was mixed into his drink unknowingly) becomes an easily stressed and verbally abusive person, also likes to destroy family belongings for fun.

I hope you like this one!! I wanted to go for an unexpected twist so let’s see how that goes…

They’d been desperate, and it seemed like a good solution at the time.

When the brothers had asked Dekapan about a potion of any kind that could change a person’s personality, they’d been sick and tired of Karamatsu’s outlandish behavior all the time. Maybe they were being a bit extreme, but in all honesty, they hadn’t intended to change much about him–just subdue his personality, tone it down a little. Nothing too drastic.

And as it happened, Dekapan did have just such a potion on hand, one he promised would change Karamatsu’s personality. He’d warned them in advance that the potion couldn’t be reversed, that whatever happened they would be stuck with it, but while they listened they didn’t heed his advice. They figured all would be fine.

All they had to do was slip it into his drink, which they did. He drank it without noticing a thing, much to everyone’s relief. Dekapan said it would take a few hours for the change to take effect. When they went to bed that night, it was with the knowledge that they’d wake up to a brand-new Karamatsu, unbeknownst to him.

They had no idea what they were in for.

———-

“Karamatsu-niisan!”

Karamatsu glanced up at the sound of Jyushimatsu’s boisterous shouting, but he didn’t smile at him the way he usually did. In fact, he seemed annoyed. “What do you want, Jyushimatsu?”

“Wanna play baseball with me and Ichimatsu in the park?” Jyushimatsu asked hopefully. “It’s a nice day outside today!”

“No, I don’t want to. It’s too hot out, and besides, I don’t want to get all dirty and need to shower and change my clothes when I get home.” Karamatsu scowled. “What a waste of precious time.”

Jyushimatsu was taken aback, his smile faltering. The snappy tone of Karamatsu’s voice was very much unlike him. Yes, he knew they’d given him that potion…but it wasn’t supposed to make him mean, was it?

“Ah…sorry, Karamatsu, I thought you liked playing baseball,” he said quietly. “You used to.”

“Well, I don’t anymore,” Karamatsu stated crossly, and turned back to the magazine he’d been reading when Jyushimatsu interrupted him. “Now leave me alone, I’m in the middle of something.”

“Okay…bye.” Jyushimatsu walked out of the room, shaken by what had just happened. He couldn’t understand why Karamatsu would be so blunt and rude toward him, speaking in a way that made Jyushimatsu’s heart pound nervously.

Maybe he just didn’t sleep enough and he’s tired, or he’s cranky ‘cause it’s been so hot lately…yeah, maybe it’s got nothing to do with the potion!

He certainly hoped not.

—————

“Karamatsu-niisan…!”

“What, Todomatsu?” Karamatsu asked irritably, shooting a sharp glare at Todomatsu the second he heard the syrupy-sweet lilt in his voice.

The cold tone and harsh look perturbed Todomatsu a little, but he wasn’t deterred enough not to ask his question. “Could you please get me a drink from the fridge? I’m so thirsty.” He tried to appear as cute as possible when making his request.

“No, I will not,” Karamatsu glowered at him. “You’re not a baby, you can go get your own drink. Quit being so lazy.”

Todomatsu’s eyes widened at the cutting retort, but instead of retreating fearfully he frowned and said, “Oh, come on, you used to do that for me all the time. Choromatsu would’ve done it for me.”

“Then ask him to do it,” Karamatsu sniped. “I’m not your butler. You can get your own drinks, the kitchen is right down the hall and your legs aren’t broken.”

Todomatsu huffed. “How rude!” he exclaimed with an exaggerated pout. “Fine, then I will get my own drink.”

He stormed out of the room, fuming. Never before had Karamatsu treated him so meanly, and he didn’t like it one bit. Not just because he was now suffering the indignity of having to fetch his own drink.

It was because he didn’t seem like Karamatsu anymore.

—————

“Have any of you seen my limited-edition Nyaa-Chan poster?” Choromatsu rooted frantically through the closet, worry mounting within him with each second that passed that the poster wasn’t in his hands. “I was just about to hang it up in the perfect spot…oh no, don’t tell me I left it at the concert, not when I’d saved up so much for it…”

“Looking for this, my brother?”

Choromatsu spun around at the sound of Karamatsu’s voice, and relief flooded through his system when he saw his precious poster in the older brother’s hands.

“Oh! Kara, you found it! Thank you, I had no idea where it could have been…”

He stood up to grab the poster from Karamatsu…and froze completely in terror when he saw Karamatsu grip it in both hands and begin to tear it.

“Wait! What are you doing?!” he shrieked, lunging forward to grab the poster but unable to before Karamatsu dodged in the other direction.

Choromatsu stumbled to the floor and could only watch, horrified and heartbroken, as Karamatsu tore his poster in half. For a brief second he thought he could salvage it, tape the two pieces together—until Karamatsu began furiously ripping those pieces into tiny little shreds.

“There.” Karamatsu smirked as he unceremoniously dumped the handfuls of paper bits into the garbage. “It looks much better in there, if you ask me.” Then he sauntered out of the room, leaving Choromatsu on the floor.

Choromatsu could only stare, his chin quivering as tears threatened to fall. He couldn’t even bring himself to lash out angrily at Karamatsu the way he would with any other brother for touching or breaking his stuff. The poster had been rare and expensive and he was unlikely to ever snag another one, but that wasn’t what bothered him so much about what just happened.

Not once had Karamatsu ever done anything so heartlessly, with so much darkness in his eyes, something that he knew would hurt one of his brothers so badly. Not in the past…but now, he was turning into a monster.

That realization was worse than losing a dumb poster.

—————

As time wore on, Karamatsu grew meaner, and the brothers distanced themselves from him. They were scared of him. He wasn’t the sweet, caring brother they used to have, that they took for granted. With each passing day they regretted their reckless decision more and more. Changing Karamatsu had been a horrible idea, and they were devastated by the fact that it couldn’t be undone.

And then, one day, Karamatsu paid Dekapan a visit.

“I think I’m ready to be changed back now.”

“Oh?” Dekapan lifted his gaze from the invention he had been tinkering with. “Already?”

“Well, it has been a month, and I believe my brothers have learned their lesson.” A faint smile played at Karamatsu’s face. “I must admit, though, I didn’t think I’d be able to pull it off for this long—it’s hard work being a jerk, though I do believe I pulled off the role flawlessly!”

Dekapan nodded. “When they came in asking for a potion to change you, I knew they wouldn’t like the results, so I gave them a vial of water instead. That they weren’t any the wiser is…a bit disturbing, really.”

“Ah, but I appreciate it…as well as you calling me before they came home that day to devise our plan here.” Karamatsu sighed slightly. “I do feel a bit guilty for some of the things I did…destroying Choromatsu’s poster may have been too far. I was just…hurt, that they’d be so willing to change me that they’d resort to using some mysterious potion to achieve it. Am I…am I truly that unbearable?”

“You’re a, well, unique person, Karamatsu. I think a lot of people appreciate it more than you might think,” Dekapan answered. “And I’m sure your brothers have now come to realize what they’ve lost in thinking it would be better to change you. I think everything will be better from here on out.”

Karamatsu sighed heavily. “I certainly hope you’re right. Because if they go back to wishing I was different again…I don’t know what I’ll do.”

He didn’t stay long after that. The plan was arranged for Dekapan to call the brothers, claiming to have discovered a way to reverse the “potion” he’d given them. From there they figured the same plan as before would follow, with the brothers sneaking him the potion. Karamatsu would have to fake at least one more night of this heinous personality before “magically” returning to normal the next day.

Only time would tell if this scheme of their would actually work, or how long it’d take the brothers to grow tired of him again. Maybe they wouldn’t, maybe they would right away.

But Karamatsu was determined not to change who he was, not after this experiment. No matter what anyone thought of him, even his own family, he’d rather stay himself.

#osomatsu san #osomatsu san angst #karamatsu #personality change

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deliciousscaloppine · 5 years ago

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Unclean Realm

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Little short story about Meng Yao becoming Nie Huaisang’s attendant in their childhood and some of their adventures as they grow up. Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao in his adulthood are entering a relationship and Huaisang decides to give up feelings and go into politics. Because first love hurts. (Huaisang at some point flings porn slang to Meng Yao to vex him so mentions of a jade ass, i guess.)

The sound of the qin resounded happily in the courtyard. Meng Yao was entertaining again a certain guest. On this beautiful moonlit night, the heat had given way to a beautiful breeze that smelled of some distant rain. Huaisang was drifting in and out of sleep in some very small agony. Not having Meng Yao in his rooms was a surprising cause of anxiety.

Ever since he was a child his overactive imagination that urged him to constant distraction had been somewhat checked and focused by Meng Yao's more disciplined character. So it was an unxpected ordeal to have to be plagued by a condition he thought was over. To say that he missed Meng Yao and was a little jealous would be an exaggeration, since he was the one who had the attendant moved away. He was actually missing the things Meng Yao did for him, and those were plenty.

Unfair Meng Yao only needed the littlest nudging to ask a lodging of his own. Or rather pretend to suggest greater freedom to his princely ward, so that he would be offered a handsome room at the wing his brother, the great Chifeng Zun resided.

Musing on their little altercation regarding his recent foray into what Meng Yao considered inappropriate material that made him confuse fiction with reality, Huaisang should have never pronged his devoted attendant by telling him to put his lips on Nie Mingjue's jade ass. Aside from eliciting venomous remarks about his cowardly character that would never utter such things in Nie Mingjue's presence, it also led to Meng Yao storming away permanently.

Suddenly a sour note, followed by several others attacked the nightly summer air. It was as if someone was slaying a cat. Or rather was someone slaying Meng Yao in the middle of his recital? Huaisang who had been cautioned as a child that assassins would always come and get him if he strayed distractedly here and there, flew out of the room. Several other people seemed to have the same idea, and had stuck their heads out of their front doors to look for the offending noise coming from the interior courtyard.

But then the notes were followed by boisterous laughter- which Huaisang recognized immediately as his brother's- followed by Meng Yao's high-pitched and silly supplications.

His brother who hardly ever had reason to laugh, seemed lately to be literally possessed by fits of laughter when he spent time in Meng Yao's room. He laughed not because Meng Yao was a great entertainer, but rather because everything Meng Yao did seemed to him a great source of mirth. Or at least so it sounded from where Huaisang was forced to listen.

Huaisang shuffled across the courtyard thinking of some light-hearted remark that the two could take as admonishment, like “You two are still up so late?” or “You do not sleep like everyone else?” It wasn't so much that he cared about the disturbance, but rather that he would have them know the noble court of the Nie- which he was a part of- was not amused. No, of course he did not want to go and sit with them, and impede Meng Yao's ministrations with his presence.

He approached stealthily from the side, where the rays of the moon would not betray his shade, and saw through a half-drawn curtain that Nie Mingjue was sitting at the guqin and was trying to play. Or rather he was trying to take instruction from Meng Yao who touched his hands with a thousand apologies to position them right on the chords of the qin.

Meng Yao himself was nodding and apologizing and bending his nape so often when Mingjue couldn't make the qin play right that it was a comical sight indeed. Handsome as he was, when he flared his eyes in panic over the possibility of displeasing a senior he made himself a joke. No wonder Nie Mingjue liked to laugh.

The wailing of the abused qin continued miserably through the courtyard, before Meng Yao exhausted by his apologies, sat back and poured himself a drink.

“You see how difficult it is? So don't say anymore that Nie Huaisang has no talent for music.” Meng Yao said.

Huaisang had to wonder if he had been seen, and if that remark was directed at him instead of his brother, but no amount of observation revealed Meng Yao's knowledge of his presence. Which made Huaisang even warier.

“That's different” Nie Mingjue said. “I don't think he ever tried. I have never heard such wailing in all of Qinghe.”

Meng Yao laughed as if it was his turn to be amused and then quickly as if he had offended he stood to serve wine to Mingjue. His brother kept his eyes low on the strings of the qin as he drank. It seemed to Huaisang an image of himself from the future...or the distant past.That same bashful silence had overtaken him, while Meng Yao hot and humid like a flower after rain hovered above him with the wine at hand.

“Thank you” Nie Mingjue said smiling to himself, and Meng Yao settled against him, pouring his own cup, pleased that he had pleased his lord and aiming to give him even greater pleasure.

That kind of scene made his heart twich in pain. It was the greatest agony to have loved someone like Meng Yao. Huaisang wanted to forget it right away. Was it even possible to deaden a feeling for good, to remove it and perhaps salt and preserve it, and to put it somewhere, maybe a glass case from where seeing it he could remind himself the agony it had brought him? Is this agony worth anything in the world?

Then Nie Mingjue turned, and clasped and kissed Meng Yao's face. He kissed it like it was a beautiful picture, or a reflection of the moon on water, or a divine face etched on stone.

Meng Yao's expression tightened in agony as if the kiss had seared him. His chest flared as if he was sobbing, and Nie Mingjue touched his face where it had been kissed, and spoke in his mouth something that to the night went unheard:

“I will never marry. You are my marriage.”

Huaisang shrunk back into the shadows, convinced that he had done everything wrong. From the beginning of time, the constant admonishments were correct, there was nothing he had ever done right.

…...

Huaisang waved his fan around his face. The heat had resumed with new intensity in the day. It was impossible to even linger on the view of sunny places. Outside of the shaded room a few disciples were sweeping the courtyard. He tried to remember where he had seen them before and what cruelty they had done that deserved such punishment.

“Huaisang.” his brother called sternly across him.

It was his turn on the board already. His brother was not just winning, he was slowly taking up all of the board.

“Ah! I was not paying attention!”

“That's because your head is completely empty.” Nie Mingjue said and assumed an even more austere look of superiority.

“Brother, you are too harsh. I was not paying attention, because I had a serious matter on my mind.”

“Serious matter.” his brother scoffed and looked away, shaking his head in disbelief.

As if Huaisang's mind is unable to trap serious thoughts, like it can trap beautiful songbirds.

“I was thinking of Meng Yao.” he suddenly says.

At that Nie Mingjue's face softens. As if he has heard his favorite name. But as soon as he is aware of it, he serves him an even meaner glare.

“Did you not send him away to be by yourself?”

“And I have not regretted it! I enjoy my time unsupervised...It's something else that bothers me.”

Nie Mingjue crosses his arms patiently and fixes his eyes upon him. It's difficult to have to see his brother like that, afraid that he will hear something displeasing about his favorite person in the world.

“Is not Meng Yao the son of Jin Guangshan...” Huaisang asks as if to make sure. “If he is ever invited back to his clan and there is talk of mistreatment on our part” he says scratching his head. “...Are not the Jin very sensitive on matters of prestige? Are you sure we are not going to face some trouble with him?”

“Who have you heard talk of mistreatment?” his brother asks, his frown deepening with sudden concern.

“It's not who talks, a lot of people talk. A-Yao is a good and noble boy...but perhaps we use him too frivolously and too often.” Huaisang says playing with his fan. “Brother, you should not do things he could hold against you. His fortune might change in the future and we would be embarassed...That's my opinion.”

That's what Huaisang says and makes his move on the board.

#the untamed #nie huaisang #meng yao #nie mingjue #jin guangyao #the untamed fic #unclean realm fic #cql #the qinghe boys

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the1rei · 5 years ago

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Little Moments: Reboot Chapter Fifteen: This Means War By Ericobard and shadows59 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Fandom: Ben 10 Series Relationship: Ben Tennyson/Gwen Tennyson Some Additional Tags: Bullying, No proofreading, Family is Drama, Long burn

People sometimes make mistakes. People sometimes answer those mistakes with mistakes of their own. Eventually, this can lead to a downward spiral of destruction that will take everything with it. Tragedy can break the cycle because no matter what, people need to lean on each other during a tragedy.

Read my review below:

So the chapter starts in a place so charged with magic/mana that Gwen is having trouble containing herself. Then Ben openly snubs her in his mock duel attempt and takes off when Max points out Gwen's interest. Then he snubs the event that he knows Gwen was excited to come to, as was he, and takes off. Then Shadows59 reminds the reader of the events of the last chapter and the negative effect it had on both kids. Then Max puts pressure on Gwen to be nice to Ben. Which she does by getting him a weird smoothie she thinks he'll like. Once more, we are reminded of the last chapter and Gwen's fears of Ben abandoning her. Then she comes upon him bragging to a girl about being the best in their dojo, even complimenting his skills as she scoffs at his lie. Then he's intentionally hurtful and dismissive of Gwen. Gwen notes the girl is interested in Ben. Then Ben plagiarizes Gwen's advice to him about kicking. Then we are reminded again of the fear and drama the Poodle created. Ben shows he's intentionally doing these things to upset Gwen. Then Ben makes fun of the smoothie Gwen got for him and shares it with the girl instead of Gwen, like he normally does. Then Ben and the girl almost share an indirect kiss, something Gwen and Ben have only done once, and she is clearly jealous Ben is doing with a stranger. So after all that Gwen still does nothing except get ready to scream, but without her direction, her magic causes the smoothing to explode out of the cup. In the original there is no drama from an otherworldly horror, Ben isn't mean to Gwen in any way. A girl does sit down next to Ben after the demonstration starts, and he does start talking to her, but he does so for altruistic reasons that will be discussed in a later chapter. Gwen is simply jealous at this and accidentally-purposefully knocks over her drink, which the pair sit in, making it look like Ben peed himself. In the original, even Max indicates that he thinks Gwen may have done it on purpose, but here he doesn't, he's completely in the dark about what happened. As much as one might want to say the situations are the same and Gwen shares blame in both, that's not true. If Ben hadn't been so cruel to Gwen, it wouldn't have happened. Shadows59 is taking something that is at least partially Gwen's fault and gives all the responsibility for what happened to Ben.

There is a part where Ben is about to say that Gwen is the best at the dojo but is cut off by Max's call. The problem is that Gwen mutters to herself after hearing Ben say, "the best fighter in our dojo is-" but before Max calls out, there is no way Ben couldn't have finished the sentence in that time. Ironically this doesn't even need to be a problem, as rather than writing the sentence as being cut off, Shadows59 could have just ended it there, inferring he was talking about Gwen the whole time.

Why is Max sudden completely oblivious to just how upset Gwen is getting with Ben and the girl talking next to her?

It was seen as an incredibly hateful thing for Marci to called Gwen a slut. However, it seems that if you get Gwen a little jealous, she's not so averse to calling other people the same thing.

In the reboot, the chapter perspective stays focused on Gwen; the reader follows her horror and regrets at what is happening through her eyes alone, only gleaming Ben's through her empathy. In the original, the perspective swapped back and forth with each prank, giving both fears and regrets about the situation. This only makes it harder to empathize with Ben, so why change this?

Additionally, Ben's first prank against Gwen, the first real prank of the story, is done reactionarily, in the spur of the moment. In the reboot, he waits days before he acts, having plenty of time to reconsider his actions, and it even happens in what should have been a moment of levity, where they were bonding as heroes. He also does something disproportionally humiliating to her, worse then what she did to him and not even comparable to what he did the original. It too is a bit of a reversal, where in the original Gwen spilled drink made it look as if Ben had wet himself and in the reboot Ben makes it look like Gwen messed her pants. Ben is also the one in the reboot to pretend like everything is okay before pranking Gwen, whereas, in the original, it was Gwen that did this. Why change these things? Again, it seems obvious that Shadows59 is doing this to show Gwen in a much better light than Ben. Perhaps this is not his intention, but that is still what he is doing.

Even if Ben isn't trying to be mean when talking about Gwen's friends being all online, that is still how he comes across, whereas in the previous scene before his prank, she was nothing but nice. This adds to making Gwen seem like the better person. She even reconsiders her prank, but because Ben continues to be mean to her, she goes through with it.

Has Gwen's magic ever not manifested without her hands glowing? If not, then how could she cast in the dark without being seen? Also, if she is drinking from a straw, as people normally do in theaters, her grin wouldn't be hidden.

Shadows59 takes more time to show that Gwen is emotionally vulnerable due to what happened with the Poodle.

Ben pranking Gwen by turning her hair green was the crux of their eventual making up, which will likely be given over to Gwen instead in the reboot. That is bad enough, but to regulate something so key to the original to a throwaway line is hard to read.

Ben can't even prank Gwen without getting caught in the reboot, Gwen never gets caught.

The Omnitrix is a device meant to facilitate communication between alien species. Why would it take an artificial creature and evolve its form way beyond its original state? Communication with its unevolved species would be impossible, and there is no species for it to communicate with. This goes completely against the Omnitrix's function.

Why is there this interjection of Gwen being chummy with her mom? Sure she was worried about her mom being sick, but before that the last thing we read about them that Lili had completely betrayed Gwen's trust by listening in on her phone call. If they moved past that, why wasn't the resolution to that conflict shown?

I do like that Ben takes everything and, instead of impossible hiding them, strings them up in the tree.

The whole bra thing comes across as another interjection of sex into this story about eleven-year-olds. It also makes no sense that Ben, who practically had a mental breakdown when he momentarily felt Gwen's bra under her unitard because it meant she was a 'girl' would now handle her girly bra so much to carefully hang it at the very top of the tree with no problems.

There is also this persistent motif of Gwen being devastated and saddened by Ben pranks, but Ben just howls like an enraged madman when he's pranked. His yelling even summons the cops once, which causes the chapter to almost have a theme of domestic violence to it where Gwen is the sad suffering wife, and Ben is the raging husband that the cops have to restrain.

The original ended with Ben tricking Gwen as a prank after the clothing thing had been done and the pair were thrown out by Max. During the fight, Gwen wasn't one loosely buttoned shirt away from being topless as they fought like animals, and Ben wasn't soaked to the bone. Who started the fight was left vague as they were equally culpable for what transpired. Whereas here, Ben starts it by grabbing Gwen as she excused her move on him as just intending to shove him, after he called her what her bully calls her. Gwen's actions being excused while Ben is left the bad actor is pretty much this fight in a microcosm. Even in the end, he is made out like the final aggressor leaving her to whimper sympathetically with a whole list of injuries and Ben with only one, that Gwen feels terrible about inflicting. In the original, however, it ended on even terms.

"he sounded just as sarcastic as she expected, but... There was something that almost sounded sincere" Ben can't be sarcastic and sincere at the same time.

In the original, the moment the fight ended Max arrived to tell them the bad news. In the reboot, Shadows59 gives Gwen time to try and reconcile, and she nearly does, which is exactly the opposite of what happened in the original a couple of chapters later.

-Erico The original didn't need a bunch of drama to start the war; just a single misunderstanding that was relatable, revealing, and eventually showed Ben's good character.

You're right Little Moments didn't have the characters going from "outright hatred to sucking each other's faces off" in the original. In the reboot, however, Gwen won't stop finding excuses to kiss Ben, and he's taken a liking to pinching her ass.

What you described was the original prank war, what has changed is in the reboot we are locked out of Ben perspective while he is being shown as less sympathetic and meaner. Case in point, it is Gwen who tries to make peace at the end when in the original, it was Ben. Why does Gwen need to be so lifted up as Ben is pushed down?

How does the added drama, the addition of sexual innuendo, and long rambling of the story facilitate them being kids longer?

(As always, please go leave Shadows59 a nice positive review he won’t delete.)

#ben 10 #bwen #ben x gwen #gwen x ben #benxgwen #gwenxben #ben and gwen #gwen and ben #fanfic #review #Little Moments

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