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imaginarycircus · 7 years ago

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random, late night, probably incoherent thoughts on S2 of The Good Place, though we’ve only seen up to Ep. 8 (snipped for length, unless you’re on mobile. In which case I hang my head in shame and say, “mea culpa.”

Let’s talk about Kierkegaard, friends. Because I love me some Kierkegaard. Hear me out. He’s funny. No. For real. I almost got kicked out of the public library in Santa Fe for reading Kierkegaard and laughing too much. He’s a cross between someone’s devoutly Catholic grandparent and a random dude you meet in a bar who’s oddly charming, but you can’t tell if he’s drunk or just weird.

Ep. 8 of The Good Place is “Leap into Faith.” To sum up “Fear and Trembling” rather badly--Kierkegaard says it might be easier to have faith in Christ if you were right there listening to him when he was alive way back when, except that idea scares the crap out of him. He says he would literally fall on his face in fear and trembling if he knew Jesus was walking around and he could bump into him at ye olde timey hardware store. But in his own time, Kierkegaard chooses to be a Knight of Faith--to leap into faith. You have to make that choice as a person who is living not when Jesus was tearing shit up and flipping tables. It means more--to choose faith in something you can’t prove or see. He’s not talking about buying the party line or unexamined piety. He considers it an ethical act because you are choosing to be a better person, to model your life and actions on a better person than you will ever be. Personal responsibility is basically all you really have to work with so educate yourself, work at being a good person. (I removed a long tangent about Aristotle. You’re welcome.)

This is part of the utter genius of this show. An alleged demon who is supposed to be torturing four human souls asks them to have blind faith in him when they have little reason to and are putting their own safety and futures at risk. It’s the reverse of God asking you to have faith in Him, but at the same time it isn’t. Look it’s late and I am fired up about ETHICAL PHILOSOPHY, but faith is faith. Faith in a friend and faith in God all come from the same place of trust. If God is truly the redeemer then that God could certainly rehabilitate demons IF they wanted to be rehabilitated. That God could work through demons. Don’t spoil me. I don’t know where this is headed yet, but I can’t stop thinking about Dante. (Yes. It’s a wasteland of jumbled Classics in my head all the time.)

And the show is clearly not advocating for a Christian Heaven/Hell scenario. It’s more ecumenical by far so the focus on philosophy rather than religious texts is clever.

Our characters were told they were in The Good Place in S1. Then they decided it was really the Bad Place and that was confirmed by Michael and others. But they’re on a journey and I can’t stop thinking about The Purgatorio. I’m not saying I see elements of Dante in this show at all. Just that I keep coming back to it in my thoughts. It’s the middle book of The Divine Comedy and it gets glossed over, or ignored. Everyone loves The Inerno. I’m not sure that many people read The Paradiso, nevermind the Purgatorio. It’s actually my fave of the trilogy, but I’ve established that I am a weirdo. The Purgatory is full of (dead) people who have a chance to get into the Paradiso some day. It’s a place that’s better than the Inferno, but is hard because of the work you have to do to purge off whatever is keeping you out of Paradise. Either things happened to them in their lives that kept them from living lives virtuous enough to give them the golden ticket to paradise, or they made some bad choices.

(There’s some poor woman who tried to be a nun, but her creepy family married her off instead and so she’s stuck in Purgatory for that. I’m still all WTAF about that one. eta: I might be misremembering and she might be in the Paradise, but like in one of the outer rings. Basically The Staten Island of Heaven) (Idk what this even is. A paragraph full of parenthetical tangents?) (Anyway--the characters tell Dante that If they can work through their bullshit and literally purge the bad stuff away they can get to paradise. It also helps if people who are still alive are praying for them. (According to Dante. Not according to me. I’m a heathen and I would ideally end up sitting around the mouth of Hell watching Socrates try to flirt with everyone and Aristotle ignoring people and organizing seashells in new taxonomic systems, which is how he spent his honeymoon. Only a slightly better honeymoon than William James’s. He wrote “Psychology, The Briefer Course” a 700 page book arguing that psychology needs grounding in chemistry and science on his tour of Europe with his new wife. Yes, I digress. My life is one long digression. I digress therefore I am, Descartes.)

In the show I am supposed to be talking about here--we have 1 apparent demon and 4 human souls all trying to improve morally. If that doesn’t say Puragtory, I don’t know what does. Although it’s way convenient that the Good Place leaves their Janets around and they’re not like a way to infiltrate and change things. She seems like a sleeper agent to me, but Janet is developing emotion and learning in the way you’d kind of hope AI might in a best case scenario. Except AI is made by people. Janet’s knowledge is limited and also boundless, which is interesting. Humans are highly limited by our small hard drives and small RAM, and yet they are unbounded in other areas. They can freely imagine and interpret.

I have like 100 thoughts bouncing around in my brain like super balls and it’s hard to explain that. But friendship is the bedrock of philosophy. Friendship is so important, when it’s real and true. As always--that’s Aristotle. As I’ve said a hundred plus times, the best thing you can do is “contemplate contemplation” or thinking about thinking, i.e. philosophy. A philosopher would say that, right? He names tons of other important virtues: philanthropy, generosity, honesty, and all the ones you’d expect. But one of the most important is friendship. And we see that kind of friendship playing out. The strength of one character is inspiring the others or teaching them things. I could go on for like ten more wildly incoherent paragraphs, but I’m going to stop because it’s 1:30 in the morning. And nobody wants the Kierkegaard/Aristotle smoothie I’m trying to concoct. Not even me.

As an aside. I had to pause the show when Tahani used a weird British idiom and they all stared at her, not getting it. And she said, “Come on. You should be able to get these things from context.” THAT RIGHT THERE? IS A WRITER SAYING HA!! FUCK OFF!! to every producer/director/studio exec who ever told them to take out a reference or or change a line “because no one will get it” or to make the show “relatable.” And it was glorious. I mean this has never personally happened to me. Of course not. (pssssst. it totally has.)

#Good old Søren #The Good Place #spoilers for part of S2 #complete snarled up garbage thoughts #none of the ideas are follow through #but I have this URGE to post something about it #and maybe talk to people #rather than write a thesis on it #I know there's a twist coming and I can see several possibilities and am curious as hell #we need to watch the last few episodes before I get spoiled #yes everything is aristotle!#sue me #but not for real because I don't have much and you can't have my cat #and I'd rather not give you all my Aristotle in either Greek or translation

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aithorin · 4 years ago

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A Lesson in Possession - All Smite x Reader (18+)

Summary: When you make the mistake of revealing that you find one of the top ten heroes attractive, Smite wastes no time in reminding you that you belong to him.

Warnings: Villain AU, Villain!All Might, Possessive behavior, Dominance, Vaginal fingering, Possessive sex, Unhealthy relationships, Degradation

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30772664

Very much NSFW!

All Might was ignoring you. Intentionally ignoring you. And you didn’t like it. Not one bit. For the last 20 minutes, you’d tried in vain to get him to finally sit down on the couch with you yet to no avail. He just continued to rustle around in the kitchen, seeming to clang together every goddamn pan in existence while looking for who knows what. At any rate, it was clear your attempts weren’t working at all.

Letting out a huff, you turned away from the kitchen to face the television. Raising the volume to drown out all the fucking noise he was making, the newsreporter babbled on about a battle that had happened earlier in the day. The fight in question was between none other than All Might and a horde of the top heroes. But what else was new?

‘Boooooorrrrring’ You droned out in your head. Picking up the remote, you flicked to the next channel only to be met with the same regurgitated garbage from the last. Sitting up straight, a spark of irritation fired through you as you began cycling through all the channels, going through them faster with each disappointment.

“All Might-” Next

“Earlier today, Symbol of Discord, All Might-” Next

“Top hero Endeavor and All Might faced off-” Next

God, was there nothing else to fucking watch? Huffing in frustration, you hit mute before tossing the remote onto the cushion beside you. Crossing your arms, you settled further into the sofa as a small pout crept onto your face. Glaring at the TV, you gave it a scowl that rivaled All Might’s. However, as you kept your eyes trained on the now silent news report, your glower slowly faded into a wicked grin as an inkling of an idea began to take form. You knew exactly what to do. All Might wouldn’t be ignoring you for much longer.

Sitting up, you swung your legs up onto the couch and schooled your features into the epitome of relaxed and unbothered. Slinging one arm over the back, you kept your gaze glued to the TV and called out, “Your fight from today is all over the news.”

A particularly loud clang was all you got in response. That was okay. It was to be expected. On to phase two.

“They’re saying you destroyed half of Kamino Ward. And with five of the top heroes there too! That’s pretty impressive you managed to make it here without a scratch. I guess even the best have nothing on you.”

This time you got a clang followed by a grunt. Okay, so flattery was a no go. Time to change tactics. But no matter, you had saved the best for last.

“Although…” you began, dragging the word out, “While they may not be a match for you when it comes to power, I do have to say that some of them rival you quite well in the looks department. Personally, I think Hawks comes pretty damn close.”

Bringing a finger up, you tapped it against your lips. Amending your previous statement, you said, “Hmmm, wait. On second thought, I think he might actually be hotter than you. He is pretty attractive, you know.”

At your words, all clanging came to an abrupt halt. This time all that greeted you was deathly silence. Reveling in it, your smirk grew tenfold. Checkmate.

Slow footsteps rumbled across the ground, sending tremors through the floors of your apartment. But you wouldn’t let yourself be intimidated. Keeping your eyes trailed on the screen, you refused to look at him, knowing it would anger him more. With the sole intention of pretending not to notice you had just pissed off the number one villain, you nonchalantly picked at invisible dirt in your nails.

Standing in the doorway that separated the living room from the kitchen, you could feel his glare burning holes into the back of your head, but you held steady to the charade.

“What,” All Might growled, “Did you just say?”

Giving a noncommittal hum and schooling your features, you threw a cursory glance at him over your shoulder before turning back to the TV, feigning disinterest. Once you were out of his line of sight though, you couldn’t help letting the devilish grin return. It was all going according to plan. He was absolutely pissed. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him so angry before. Just a couple of words and his aura had darkened so much it cast a shadow over the whole room. With his eyes blazing and his lips curled back in a snarl, his fists were clenched at his sides, trembling ever so slightly in an attempt to keep his anger in check. At any rate, it was clear your comment had gotten his blood boiling.

“Hmmm, what was that?” you finally replied. Looking at the TV, you continued, “Oh, I was just saying that I think Hawks is way hotter than you. No offense.”

Letting out a snarl, he began to stalk towards you. “You’re playing a dangerous game doll. Are you trying to make me mad?”

“No,” you said, giving a small pout, “I’m trying to get your attention. You’ve been ignoring me the whole time you’ve been here!”

“Insolent girl!” All Might growled, “And you thought insulting me was the way to do it?”

“Well nothing else was working!” you said haughtily, crossing your arms, “Besides, from my view, it worked perfectly. You’re certainly not ignoring me now, which is all I wanted in the first place.” Letting the irritation slide off your back, you gave him a cheeky grin and waggled your eyebrows.

Yet your words seemed to have the opposite effect on All Might as his expression grew impossibly darker. Giving you a derisive smile, he sneered. “Fine,” He said, voice sinister yet full of promise, “Have it your way then.”

The change in the air was palpable. Grin fading from your face, you realized that with nothing more than a few words from him, you’d lost all control over the situation. The knowledge sent a wave of nervousness down your spine. There was no denying it. The tables had turned, and while you may have won the battle, you were most certainly about to lose the war. God, you should have just kept your mouth shut. Why did your impatience always land you in such deep shit? Would it really have been so bad to wait another 15 minutes?

You’d played with fire and now you were about to be burned. From the look of All Might’s heated gaze, it seemed you were in for a world of painful pleasure. He’d give you what you want alright, but the bastard would be sure to reduce you to a writhing, sobbing mess beforehand. Yet despite the fact that your head was screaming at you to get away, your body seemed to have other thoughts. To your horror, you realized that the idea of being so completely at his mercy was actually turning you on. Just thinking about it had you shifting uncomfortably in your seat as a dull throb of need began to build in your abdomen.

In a flash, his looming form hovered over you, encasing you with his shadow, and the glow of his blazing blue eyes burned with a smug self-satisfaction at the sound of your breath hitching. Somehow, he’d gotten ahold of your arms, and they lay trapped in one of his hands held high above your head. His actions had caused your shirt to ride up ever so slightly, a fact which had not escaped All Might’s attention. Taking a moment to rake his eyes over your form, you could feel your body heat under his appreciative gaze, tendrils of want slithering through you.

Leaning over you, All Might trapped you with his body, your chests touching. His nearness created a warmth, and with it your heart began to beat ever so slightly faster. Tongue darting out to nervously lick your lips, you waited to see what he would do. With his free hand, All Might came up to swipe his thumb across your bottom lip, getting rid of the moisture you’d just laid there, before tilting your chin up and somehow getting impossibly closer. It was more than enough to unnerve you, and it was obvious he was doing it on purpose. The damn bastard knew you were helpless to resist when he was that close.

Bending down, he pressed his face toward your ear. “You want attention?” He snarled, his hot breath fanning the shell of your ear and sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine, “I’ll give you attention.”

Pulling back, he made sure his eyes met yours. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget that bird brained freak even exists. But first, I’m gonna teach you a lesson, doll. Mark my words, you’re gonna regret opening that pretty little mouth of yours.”

And that was all the warning you got. Leaning down, he captured your lips in a bruising kiss, demanding entrance. But the brat in you couldn’t help resisting. You met him full force, refusing to give him what he wanted, goading him. In response, he growled against your lips before biting down on your bottom one, not hard enough to break the skin but hard enough to surprise you. Releasing a tiny yelp at the shock, he seized the moment to push his way through. In an instant, he had his tongue tangled around yours. And there was nothing loving about the embrace. Rough and bruising, it was pure punishment and you were helpless to do anything about it.

As your need for air began to become overwhelming, All Might started to pull away, leaving a trail of saliva connected to your lips, thinning ever so slowly before finally splitting in half to land against your chin. Chest heaving and yearning to feel his lips against yours again, you sought his touch the only way you knew how.

By baiting him.

Sitting up ever so slightly by wiggling one arm out of his embrace, you propped yourself up on it and gave him a roguish grin. “Is that all you got, big guy?” You asked.

At the jab, he let out a growl. “I’m not anywhere close to done with you, girl.”

Leaning down, he grabbed hold of your T-shirt and tore it straight in half in one fell swoop before doing the exact same with your bra. Letting out a gasp, your exposed nipples began to harden in wake of the cold air, and All Might smirked as you rushed to cover yourself.

“Uh Uh Uh” He tutted, waggling his finger at you, “You know better than that.”

Slowly you began to lower your hand, and All Might let out an appreciative hum. “Good girl.” He purred.

Leaning down, he latched onto one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around the tip before taking it between his teeth and giving it an experimental tug. Your body, desperate for the slightest touch now, responded immediately. Letting out a breathy moan, you arched into his touch, silently begging for more as the sensation sent jolts of pleasure dancing across your chest that headed straight to your core. Smirking in satisfaction, All Might chose to ignore your plea. Grabbing onto your hips, he began trailing his lips down to the waistline of your pants, leaving warm wet kisses with his tongue across your belly while his thumbs stroked the sides of your waist. Arriving at the top of your pants, he reached one hand over to flick them open before sliding them over the curve of your ass, taking your panties with them and leaving your glistening pussy fully exposed.

“Look at you. You’re positively drenched, and I’ve barely even touched you. What an eager little slut you are.” He said, dragging one long finger along your slit.

Gasping at his touch, you watched, entranced, as he pulled his finger away, your juices dripping off of it. Bending down, he held it up to your mouth.

“Suck.” He commanded. Looking down at it, you hesitated just a moment too long, and his face twisted into a snarl.

“I’m not gonna ask you twice, girl. When I tell you to suck, you suck. ” He growled, squeezing your jaw open with one large hand wrapped around your cheeks and pushing his index finger into your mouth.

Tentatively you took the length of his finger into your mouth, wrapping your lips around the base of it. As the back of your tongue touched the pad of his fingertip, the warm, slightly salty taste of yourself met it. Swirling your tongue around the digit, you slowly began to bob up and down on it, thoroughly lubricating it with your saliva.

Letting out a satisfied smirk, All Might purred, “Good girl.” Shoving his finger back in as far back into your throat as he could, you gagged trying to catch your breath as he finally removed the digit, bringing your bottom lip down with it.

“That was for earlier.” He sneered, “Don’t disobey me again.”

And then, beginning from your mouth, he traced a path down your chin with his wet finger, going between the valley of your breasts and the soft curve of your belly. As the wet trail he made quickly dried, you shivered as the dampness met the cold air. Arriving at your pussy, he began to prod at your entrance, easily slipping the digit in.

You couldn’t stop from letting out an immediate moan at the stretch. From one finger, he had already managed to make you feel deliciously full. The mind numbing emptiness your body had been begging for him to satiate was finally being remedied.

Beginning to pump, All Might turned his attention toward your clit. As his fingers thrust inside you, his thumb began to rub slow circles over your clit, pulling all sorts of gasps out of you. Working you open, his pace began to quicken and before you knew it he was slipping a second finger in.

Dissolving into putty at his hands, you could feel your climax fast approaching.

Yes!” you moaned, “Just like that.” You were so close. With one more thrust, you’d be gone. You could feel his fingers pulling out, preparing to send you over the edge, when suddenly they were completely gone, leaving you painfully empty.

Choking from the force of being denied so suddenly, your eyes flashed open just in time to see him climbing off of you. Face sweaty and cheeks flushed, you were an absolute mess. Lost in a haze of need, you could barely even comprehend what was happening. All you could see was that damn smirk on his face.

Unbuckling his pants painfully slow, he seemed to revel in your agony. As he hooked his fingers into the waistband of his pants, a distinct clink floated through the air as his loose belt buckle hit the metal of his pant button. And then in one swift motion, he took his pants off, his cock springing free. Painfully hard and red, it seemed to almost pulsate. Following the line of one thick vein, you saw that the tip was already oozing pre-cum.

Licking your lips in anticipation, you waited for All Might to approach you once more, but he remained standing. In fact, he moved farther away from you, making you want to cry.

Stroking himself, he seemed to completely ignore you as he lifted his other hand to rest on his chin, a thoughtful expression came over his face. “You know, I’ve already been quite lenient with you. Maybe it’d be better to just take care of myself.”

At that you wanted to sob. Nothing in the world mattered more to you than having his cock balls deep inside you at the moment. “Please please don’t do that!” you said, wanting nothing more than to pull him close, but he was just out of reach, and by then, you were too out of it to do anything else but stretch a weak hand toward him.

“Ple-please touch me.” You whined, legs rubbing together, desperately trying to regain even the slightest amount of friction.

Letting out a snort, he taunted, “And give me one good reason why I should. You haven’t exactly been on your best behavior today. Need I remind you that this is supposed to be your punishment?”

“I-I know you want to though.” You said, breathless. Raising your head to look at him through hooded eyes, you purred, “It-It’ll be so good.”

Taking a few steps toward you, he looked down into your eyes. Face becoming almost pleasant, he questioned, “You want this? You want my cock?” As you watched him stroke himself, you eagerly nodded. You wanted nothing more.

In an instant, his face turned dark once more as he growled, “Then beg for it.”

At that, a look of confusion spread over your face. “Wh-What?” You questioned.

“You heard me. If you want my cock beg. for. it.” He said.

Under normal circumstances, you would’ve laughed in his face, but, well, being incredibly horny does make a difference. Swallowing your pride, you whispered, “Please. I want your cock. I want you to fuck me.”

And yet, true to the utter asshole that he was, All Might pretended not to hear you. “Hmmm. What was that?” He said, lifting a hand up to cup his ear, “I didn’t hear you.”

“I want your cock!” You shouted, looking up to glare at him, “I want you to fuck me.”

“No need to be so mean kitten,” He said, a mock pout coming over his face, “That’s all I wanted to hear.”

Before you could even register that he’d moved, All Might was back over you again, one last self-satisfied smirk being the only warning you got before he buried his cock in you. Moaning from the sensation, tears sprung at your eyes from how far he was stretching you. God, he was so big, yet you couldn’t even find it in yourself to care because it felt so good.

Fully inside, he gave you the small mercy of allowing but a single moment for you to adjust. Before you knew it, he was pulling out only to thrust back into you again, setting an absolutely brutal pace. Eyes rolling into the back of your head from the force, you briefly registered him attaching onto your neck, sucking hard enough to leave teeth indentations.

Grabbing hold of his neck, you wrapped your legs around his waist to give him better access as breathy groans escaped your lips. Already you could feel the coil inside beginning to wind again.

“You filthy slut. You like this, don’t you? Me using you for the whore you are.” He said, wrapping a hand around your throat and grunting as he bucked into you.

“I’m the only one who’s ever gonna be able to fuck you this good. I’m the only one who can make you feel like this. You got that. You’re mine.” He growled, reaching hand down to flick at your clit, never once slowing down.

Lost in pleasure, you barely even processed his words. That is until he leaned down to snarl in your ear, “Say it.”

“I-I’m yours, All Might. You’re the only one who can fuck me this good.” you groaned.

Coming in close, he caught your lips in a bruising kiss, before thrusting in once more, going so deep you were sent flying off the edge. Gasping, you saw stars in your eyes as white hot pleasure wracked its way down your spine sending tremors throughout your body. As you came, your pussy clenched around him, causing All Might to climax as well. Hot seed coated the insides of your walls as you both fought to recover. As your heavy pants gradually became more controlled, he slowly slid out of you.

With sweat coating his brow and his breathing ragged, All Might looked down at you, blue eyes blazing, “Nobody makes you feel the way that I do. Nobody. And you’d do well to remember that, doll.”

Climbing off of you, he began to make his way down the hall, throwing your pitiful form still sprawled out on the couch one last glance. “The next time you want to try something like what you just pulled, I’d suggest you remember our little lesson today.”

#all might x reader #all smite x reader #all might #all smite #toshinori yagi #toshinori yagi x reader #mha #my hero academia #villain all might #villain au #all might smut #all might x you #yagi toshinori #my hero fanfic #all might imagine #smut

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akyrin · 4 years ago

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SBI Fic Recs

You'll be Okay Kiddo by StayGoldFics Gen/Ongoing/43k - Hurt/Comfort, Selectively Mute Technoblade and Wilbur, On the run, Homeless Technoblade, Wilbur and Tommy

Summary: After Running away two years ago from yet another crappy home Wilbur, Techno and Tommy find themselves on the streets with no where to go. But hey, at least they have each other.

^ Phil finds a bunch of mute, on-the-run-from-the-foster-system-AND-the-police children in his shed and decides to adopt them. Wilbur, Techno and Tommy trust exactly none of it but Phil keeps proving himself. Basically Phil accepting and being unconditionally loving to three boys who have known nothing but pain for a long time. I love Phil's character in this. He never demands answers from any of them, just offers them a home unconditionally, even with the threat of police. And the boys want nothing more than to accept his kindness and safety but they're just too scared to do so.

One Man's Trash by SilverWing15 T/Ongoing/14k - Superheroes AU, SBI as Villains (they are soft for Tommy though), Hurt/Comfort, Homeless Tommy

Summary: The kid is glaring down at him and eating a partially moldy apple like he’s daring Wilbur to come fight him for it.

“What the fuck?” Wilbur says.

The kid takes a huge chunk out of the apple and definitely doesn't chew it enough before he swallows.

“You got a fucking problem, asshole?”

“I mean...kind of?” Wilbur says.

“There’s a child eating literal garbage in front of me so I feel like that’s a bit concerning.”

“Shouldn’t you be robbing a bank or getting your ass kicked by superheroes?”

“Shouldn’t you be in school?”

The kid snarls wordlessly and chucks an empty carton from some chinese place at him.

“Fuck off man. Forget this dump.”

“What, you know a better one to eat from?”

“I know one that doesn’t have a fucking weirdo supervillain in it!”

The kid slams the lid of the dumpster down.

Rude.

^My current obsession. Focuses on the relationship between Tommy and Wilbur and it's written extremely well. Wilbur is a supervillain who stumbles upon a homeless Tommy and decides to take him in as much as he can. Tommy has extreme trust issues but he's also starved for both touch and affection. Similarly to You'll Be Okay Kiddo, this one has so much yearning. Tommy wants nothing more than to reach out for the warmth Wilbur is offering, but he has been burned too many times. Wilbur wants nothing more than to bundle Tommy up in fluffy blankets, but he knows that one wrong move will send Tommy running (updates daily). Guitar Strings and Keyrings are What it Takes to Build a Home by Anonymous Gen/Completed/63k - Adoption AU, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with Happy Ending Summary: Techno was adopted by Phil when he was 12 years old. He'd been enjoying his morning before Phil came to him asking if he would mind them taking in another kid. Against his better judgement, Techno agrees and ends up with two new foster brothers who he was determined to not get attached to, no matter what.

^Tommy is due to be fostered by Phil and his adopted son Techno, but he refuses to leave the orphanage without his brother Wilbur. Phil decides to take them both. Tommy and Wilbur are terrified, Techno is insecure, they work it out. Love the relationship progression and how the building trust between Techno and the others is written. Responsible Forever by SilverWing15 Gen/Completed/17k - semi-adoption, Raccoon Innit, Hurt/Comfort, Feral Child TommyInnit

Summary: “You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.”

“So,” Techoblade says, slow and deliberate, his face shows clearly just how unbelievable he finds all of this, “you saw a boy last night, in the middle of the night, living with raccoons and eating our garbage?”

“I know how insane it sounds,” Phil says, “but I know what I saw. We need to help him, who knows how long he’s been out here?”

“Okay,” Wilbur interrupts, “let’s say that raccoon-boy is real. What is it you want us to do? We can’t go searching the woods for specific bunch of raccoons, I don’t know if you’ve noticed Phil but there are a lot of them out there.”

“Going out and hunting him isn’t going to get us anywhere,” Techno says, “we have to let the raccoon-boy come to us. He’s already come once, you know how tenacious raccoons are. If they came to the garbage pit once, they’ll come again. We just have to set a trap.”

“Those raccoons aren’t gonna know what fucking hit them,” Wilbur mutters.

^ Beautifully written fic about Phil and co trying to resocialise a quite literal feral raccoon child. Tommy is scared but painfully slowly learns to trust his new family. The way Tommy is so painfully hesitant but still yearns for the idea of family is both heartbreaking and incredible to read. I'd forgotten people are kind by BialyLis Gen/Ongoing/95k - Adoption AU, Foster Care, Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse

Summary: "Wilbur did not look like a "difficult" child. Honestly, he looked like a child struggling to reach his next birthday on his own. In an oversized, faded sweater, with bruises on his forearms, and a still unhealed, split lip, he definitely didn't resemble the little terrorist Phil had carefully guarded all sharp objects from. More like a victim of a natural disaster. As if he had spent hours on the roof escaping a flood, only to be carried away by a tornado. But burying the knives was still a good idea. The kid seemed to trip over while making a sandwich."

^ Phil struggling through the uneasy process of becoming a dad to Wilbur and Techno, who have both been hurt too much for them to trust easily. Still updating hey, hi, hello by ph1sh T/Ongoing/13k - High School/College, Teacher Phil Watson, Students Wilbur, Techno and Tommy, Family Dynamic

Summary: Phil knows he isn't the first teacher to have hopes of changing kids' lives for the better, and he won't be the last. But Oakwood High seems to want to crush those hopes. He's a first year teacher still working on his college degree, he doesn't know how he planned on helping three students when he can barely help himself. or It's Phil's first year teaching and he gets stuck with detention duty. It just so happens that Tommy, Wilbur, and Techno can't stay out of detention. ^ Phil helping the "problem" children that lesser people have already gave up on. I love the way Phil (and the reader) slowly uncovers the backstory of Wilbur, Techno and Tommy. Still ongoing but a lovely read so far.

Change fate by being aggressively kind - or any other fic by sircantus

T/Ongoing/78k - AU - Magic, Phil Being the Best Dad Ever - The Fic, Protective Phil

Summary: “You do understand that you’re caring for the thing meant to bring destruction and chaos to our world, right?” The woman asks, Phil looking behind him fondly as Techno grabs at the ends of his wings. “He’s just a child.” Phil answers distractedly, humming as his wings get gently yanked at. “He’s the first of three to destroy life as we know it! Shouldn’t we, well, get rid of him?!” “Oh, no.” Phil raises his eyes with a sharp glare. “Believe me, I have my own way of preventing the apocalypse.” Or, Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy are basically chaotic forces of nature, destined from birth to end the world and bring destruction. Most who hear of the tale of them are trying their best to track them down, and to end the monsters while they’re still young, still just children. Phil has a different plan. (In which Phil raises the minecraft equivalents of the anti-christ with love and support, so much so to the point where the world ending is really just a funny thought, and Phil has three kids who casually have powers that are bit more extreme than anything else in the world) I think this one speaks for itself. Sircantus is always top notch. If you haven't read this one yet, do it.

#SBI #sleepy bois inc #SBI fic rec #SBI fics #long post #sbi fic rec

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not-me-simping-for-blasty · 4 years ago

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Wrong Number, Asshole - A Bakugou Katsuki Soulmate AU

All Parts

Part 20:

As it turns out, finally finding out the identity of your soulmate was not an easy piece of information to sleep on.

Bakugou had hung up hours ago, hopefully to listen to your advice, and since then you’d done nothing but search up his name. Obsessively. Since apparently that’s who you were now when it came to him.

You scoffed as you read another shitty headline.

Pro Dynamite saves the day but recklessly endangers 17 innocents in Hosu - Where is the line between hero and villain?

What follows is another biased recap of events that happened over a year ago: Bakugou had stopped an entire group of high-powered villains but was only able to do so by exploding the entire top floor of the building they were hiding out in. He successfully wounded, incapacitated, and captured all of the targeted criminals, but blast debris and smoke inhalation harmed civilians that had chosen not to evacuate.

You rolled your eyes, hardly able to understand why it seemed every news outlet was blaming the injuries on him. From videos and news coverage it seemed like there was no other option Bakugou could have taken, and he’d nearly sacrificed his own life with the blast. You wanted to scream.

They should be fucking thanking him! You thought.

At least- you did. Until you saw the clip.

Further in the article was a link- a simple, deceptively innocent link that led to a horrifying video.

It was taken on a hand-held camera, the lens pointed at the floor as the recorder enters an alley slowly. They duck behind a garbage bin and tilt the camera up, just minutely, and it falls on Bakugou who’s leaning against the alley wall. He was clearly tired, deep-seated bags rooted under his eyes, with one arm in a sling and the other holding his phone. The person recording held the camera still, bated breath, and kept themselves hidden. Whoever it was, they obviously didn’t want Bakugou to see them recording him.

“No- fucking- I know, Shitty Hair, Jesus!” Bakugou roars, and then his face screws up, and he rubs at his chest. “You think I don’t fucking know? I fucked up! I did! I know, but I just- I couldn’t stop!”

There’s silence again and Bakugou rolls his eyes at whoever is on the other side of the phone.

“You don’t- don’t fucking say that! Of course it fuckin’ matters! I shouldn’t of fucking let them fire me up like that!” Bakugou coughs, voice hoarse as he continues yelling. “They just kept runnin’ their fuckin’ mouths about me being a villain and I was so fuckin’ angry I couldn’t stop- I knew there were people still in there and I didn’t care! I didn’t fucking care!”

It’s quiet again, the only sound is Bakugou’s ragged breaths. Suddenly his face screws up again, this time not in pain but in anger. Rolling, hot, boiling anger that sets his jaw back and pulls his eyebrows in and darkens his expression into something terrifying. His eyes are voids, shadowed by the dim light of the alley, swirling like vacuous black holes set into his face. He looks murderous- nearly vibrating with rage as he shakes his head so violently you’re surprised he doesn’t snap his neck. Bakugou slams a hand against the alley’s bricks, leaving a steaming indent in the shape of a fist.

“I should’ve killed them.” Bakugou seethes, voice deep and dark like solid steel boiled down. “ Every last fucking one of them. “

Then he hangs up, violently, and explodes the phone in his grip. The recorder startles, knocking loudly into the garbage can in front of them.

“Who in the fuck-” Bakugou screams, voice rolling thunder as he launches himself toward the bin.

All you see is Bakugou’s snarling face, a flash of blinding orange light, the sound of a scream, and then a black screen as the recording cuts.

With a sick fascination, you rewind the video, just a few seconds, pausing on the still shot of Bakugou’s face as it nears the camera. He looks senseless and demonic; mouth curled around too-sharp teeth, his jaw shadowed and angular- but it’s his eyes. It’s his eyes that scare you the most.

Where they were black holes before, dark and empty and void, they’re raging fires now. Red, and dark, and angry like an infected wound, something volcanic and uncontainable rolling viscous and thick just beneath the surface. You’ve never seen anyone else with eyes like his- have never seen anything so hellish in your life. In that moment Bakugou doesn’t look human. He looks evil- like a vengeful war god slowly being consumed by his own bloodlust.

You shiver.

There’s-there’s nothing good about that video. It’s scary and frightening and you’ve never heard his voice sound like that. So angry and full of malice and hard around the edges- like every word is a pointed knife stabbing at you. The Bakugou in that video, his anger scares you more than any explosion of his ever could.

You want to text him, want to beg him to explain, to say something that will make the sick in your stomach stop festering like a poison. You don’t though. He’s injured again. Recovering again, just like in the video- and no matter how many questions are rattling around in your head, they’re nowhere near as important to you as his health.

The diseased ill in your stomach didn’t let up though. No matter what you tried, you couldn’t get the look of his eyes out of your head. He looked soulless. Dark and unreachable and so very angry that it scared you. Terrified you. You’d dreamed your whole life of a happy future with a gentle soulmate, but you couldn’t seem to find Bakugou in that picture anymore. You didn’t know who he was anymore.

You closed your laptop, rubbing at eyes that were still puffy from earlier. Your heart was ripped raw, mind rattling in your skull, as your eyes burned. You laid back on your pillow, shutting your eyes and trying to forget the image of your soulmate eyes, untethered and feral as he attacked.

--/--

Morning came and you didn’t feel any better. You still felt weightless, disconnected and confused by everything around you.

You stalled through your morning routine, taking an extra long shower, sipping slowly at coffee you would have normally inhaled. It was a Saturday, and usually those were relaxing, but it didn’t feel that way this time. You were still unsettled by that video- that scream and the sound of it abruptly ending as an explosion drowned it out. It was like a horror movie, and you seemed to be caught in the middle of it.

You understood now- why Bakugou didn’t want to tell you who he was. That video was pretty easy to happen across, even if you just did a little big of digging into Bakugou. It was a stain on his record and you supposed he was right, after all- everything did change the second he told you he that he was a hero. That he was Dynamite.

You sighed, rubbing at your aching eyes. You knew that you had to call him, you just wish it didn’t have to be this complicated.

Bakugou was calling you before you even set your phone back down.

“Hey.” He said, voice still weak and uncharacteristically quiet.

“Hi.”

“Don’t- fuck, don’t sound like that.” Bakugou sighs a shaking breath, barely masked frustration lacing his tone. “I- you fuckin’ saw it didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“That’s-” He starts, and he sounds so desperate it nearly tears your heart in two. “I never wanted you to fuckin’ see that! That’s not- I wasn’t- that’s not me!”

“It was you, though!” You raise your voice. “In the video! Bakugou- you said you wanted to kill people, multiple people, and then you attacked someone! Without even taking a second to think about it! You were just so angry, so fucking furious and mad and y-you didn’t even sound like you! That kind of anger- it’s fucking terrifying, you know that?”

He’s quiet, and you think you can still hear the beeping of the machine from last night.

“That- it wasn’t- I didn’t,” He struggles, voice cracking. “The camera. Not the person- I- fuck- I didn’t attack the person! Just smashed the fuckin’ camera!”

“You still jumped at them! You know how scary that must have been?” Your fingers shake as you grip your phone. “It’s- they shouldn’t have been there, fine, whatever, but it’s a fuckin’ civillian! It’s your job- as the ridiculously over-powered hero, from what I’ve seen- to protect them! Not attack them!”

Bakugou says nothing. Minutes pass and you think you hear a poorly-masked sniffle.

“You’re mad at me.” He says, simple and desolate like he’s already convinced himself of it. “Shoulda known you would be.”

“No it’s- I am. I am mad- but I don’t,” You pause, trying to find your words. “I just- I feel like I don’t know you any more! I thought I did? At least a little bit- but now it’s- you were so angry, and I know that must’ve been a bad day from the looks of it but- your eyes. It was your eyes! That kind of anger- that hate- it doesn’t just happen in a fuckin’ day, Bakugou!”

You hear a choked sound, something tiny and small and caught in the back of his throat, and the grinding of Bakugou’s teeth.

“I-I can’t. I know- I fuckin’ know, okay?” He bites out. “I- just. Stay. Please- it was- you were supposed to be fuckin’ different! It’s not- I would never- you weren’t supposed to know.”

Something in his voice sounds broken. He’s screaming, tearing his throat just like he always did, but it didn’t feel the same. Bakugou had never asked you for anything before- he’d let you call the shots, let you talk his ear off and bother him, but he’d never, not once, in the entire time you’d known him, asked you for something.

Your answer was simple- it never really was a choice after all. You would’ve never left, didn’t even think you could at this point; but something had to change. You had to make sure he understood.

“Bakugou- I- I would’ve never left. Not over this. Not over anything, probably.” You swallow thickly, blinking away tears. “But I can’t- I won’t accept the way things were before. When I ask you something, you need to answer me. Honestly and completely, from now on. No more secrets. Ever.”

He just agrees, something deep and raspy and desperate as it filters through the phone.

“So I need you to answer me, now,” You begin, taking a shaky breath and steeling your nerves. “How long are you going to be in the hospital for?”

“I-what?”

“Just answer.”

“It’s-I’m- two days, alright. Two more fuckin’ days on watch and then I’m out.”

“Okay.’ You nodded. “Where are you staying- what hospital?”

“Why?”

“I’m coming to visit. We-we need to talk more and I can’t do it over the phone- I won’t do it over the phone.” You tried to make your voice stronger than you felt. “So, if you feel up to it, I’ll visit. If not, don’t text me until you are. T-that’s- that’s the way we fix this. The only way.”

Bakugou was quiet again, breathing in silence until a cough ripped through his chest.

“I’m- Jaku City. That’s where I am.” He finally says, voice smaller than anything you were used to. “I’ll text you the address.”

“Okay.” You say, still trying to catch your breath. “I- I think I need some time. I’ll call you when I’m almost there, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

You hang up, fingers shaking as they hit the end call button.

The conversation was short- so short, and hardly even covered anything, but you just couldn’t take it any longer. When all you knew was the sound of his voice, it was a lot easier to get a read on him and what he was feeling. But it wasn’t that way anymore. You knew his face and his smile and his eyes from those clips and pictures and videos you’d seen all night.

Hearing his voice wasn’t enough to tell you who he was anymore. You wouldn’t be able to read him- not without seeing those angry red eyes.

///-////

whewwwww angstY ;)))

#bnha bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x reader #bakugou soulmate au #bakugou soulmate textfic #bnha fic #mha fic #bakugou fic #bakugou imagine #bakugou headcanons #bnha soulmate au #bakugou series

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boomeranghale · 3 years ago

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Miracles [Peter||Belle]

@supernaturaldisasterx

Things in Peter Hale’s life had changed drastically. He had changed drastically without even noticing. Not so much that he wasn’t Peter Hale, but enough to be a part of his daughter’s life, a Beta of the McCall Pack and enough to have him thinking about making the relationship with his human mate a lot more serious than it already was. He hadn’t completely ridden himself of Greed. In fact, the werewolf doubted he ever would. For starters, he didn’t see it as a bad thing. For closing, while his thirst for power had dissolved, his Greed shifted. He wanted to be a prominent figure in Malia’s life, as well as in Belle’s and the child they were having together. Of course, old habits died hard...

That’s how the Beta was finding himself opening a door to a dark, damp room with a tied up, gagged vampire in one of the dark rooms under his strip club. “...nah. We couldn’t get things done the easy way... Dammit, Klay... I thought we were friends,” the werewolf cooed maliciously as the weak vampire hissed. “...I told you to keep your hands and fangs from my employees. Really not hard considering those who wont allow themselves to be munched on aren’t many.” The werewolf chuckled sourly, watching the vampire struggle with the silver chains that kept him put. “Then again, that is exactly why we feel so disrespected.” He dashed in with a snarl, using his bare hands to pry open the vampire’s jaws before gripping the exposed fangs and ripping them off. “That ought to teach you,” Peter chuckled, letting the vampire drop back onto the cold ground before closing the heavy door behind himself---the howling of pain silenced once the door was shut.

Stopping by the locker room on his way up, Peter showered and changed after tossing the fangs to the garbage. He definitely could not deny that he missed the constant violence he’d lived under prior to Malia awakening him. A feat that had been a miracle in itself. As he returned to his office, his phone rang and the name displayed n the screen caused him to smile. “Yes, beautiful?” he questioned Belle.

#{i might want to be your prince but i will always be a Beast: Belle Emera}#miracles sl

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strawberrysoup · 5 years ago

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Pocketful of Posies || Chapter 2

You’d been hiding for years and years now; from your family, from society, from alphas and packs. Suppressants were dangerous but effective and necessary for an omega who refused to be owned—but no suppressants were strong enough to fool the nose of a super soldier, who together with his pack would stop at nothing to bind you to them forever.

pairings: dark!Avengers x reader word length: 5k chapters: 2/? warnings: A/B/O dynamics, power imbalances, noncon and dubcon sexual situations, loss of autonomy, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat — this is a dark!fic, read at your own risk. Open the read more and CTRL + F, search “content warnings” to skip to detailed trigger warnings at the bottom of the chapter.

hey read this: im desperately hoping this lives up to the standards the first chapter apparently set my dudes, fingers crossed i don’t lose any of you with this one 🤞🤞 also before we get started i just wanna let yall know i am very firmly set in my decisions for the designations and i do not apologize lmao 🤙

You had been manhandled often enough in your life but fuck this time in particular. Even if you’d managed to pass as a beta for more than a decade, you weren’t strong and couldn’t stand your ground in the face of an alpha three times your size. Steve had sucked his fingers clean and easily hefted you up into his arms, following Bruce back into the cabin and down into the basement—you hadn’t been allowed to clean the basement, it was one of the off-limits areas that were noted in your many instructions. If a door is locked, leave it alone. No cleaning is necessary in the basement, garage, or third floor. Wash the linens with a scent free detergent. Make sure the refrigerator is properly scrubbed out.

He’d left you on a metal countertop with instructions to be good for Bruce. You weren’t sure what that entailed but as soon as the blond left the room, your mind started to race. There was no way you could get away from Steve, Sam you could potentially outrun, but Bruce? Being left alone with the beta was the best thing they could’ve done for you. You could get away from Bruce.

“Have you been to see a doctor recently?” His voice was gentle, intended to be soothing as he came to stand in front of you. "Any check-ups, clinic visits?”

You knew there was blood drying on your cracked lips, cutting a jarring path down your throat. The taste was still in your mouth, you’d gouged your tongue and it was still actively bleeding. With that in mind you made direct eye contact with the beta before letting the mouthful spill over your bottom lip and drip down your front, hoping the gore would help emphasize your opinions on the situation.

“Sweetheart, I know you’re upset—”

“Bruce, why is she bleeding?” It was like getting punched in the face by alpha pheromones the moment the door to the room opened again and a much younger alpha stepped through with a practically panicked expression.

Before you or Bruce could respond you’d been swept up in the alpha’s arms. He was a few years younger than you, early twenties probably and being manhandled by a fetus was particularly bothersome. His scent kept you still for a few seconds before you started squirming, making a beta-like snarl while he corralled your limbs.

“Here Pete, can you sit with her over here? We need a blood draw and full work up, her natural hormones have probably been devastated by the chemicals in the suppressants she was taking,” Bruce gestured for the alpha to carry you to a metal table, likely meant to be used for some sort of experiments if the rest of the room was anything to judge by. "All of her reproductive organs could’ve been affected, I’ll need to do a pelvic exam. We’ll run an STD panel and—”

“No! I don’t consent!” Your voice came out as a growl, the best one you could manage. "This is false imprisonment! Let go of me you fucking knothead! This is illegal!”

The alpha started to purr immediately and you found yourself rendered boneless under the onslaught. It was startling—you’d forgotten how it felt, how calm and safe it made you feel. Alpha purrs were meant to soothe and comfort, the tones perfectly adjusted to the omega ear. They also caused a completely involuntary reaction in omegas, the same as all other alpha sounds. You had no choice but to feel relaxed, the white noise of a purr jumbling your thoughts.

Bruce smiled down at you, hand running over the top of your head where it rested against the alpha’s chest. "It’s okay, you don’t have to be afraid. I won’t let anything happen to you, I just want to make sure you’re healthy.”

“Isn’t that better baby?” The alpha sat back on the table and pulled you to sit between his legs, tucked close to his chest. “And unless you have a guardian alpha, it’s not illegal. We’re doing our civic duty, taking care of an omega in unsafe conditions.”

The worst part was that you couldn’t fight it; you couldn’t find your way out of the calm static the purr filled your brain with. Even when Bruce started taking multiple vials of blood from your left arm, when he opened your mouth to check the damage to your tongue, when they started undressing you, you couldn’t fight. It was a hazy sort of half thought, that you wanted them to stop. It must’ve been apparent in your eyes, that you were trying to work your way out of the purr’s effects.

“Shhhh, sweetheart, you’re alright,” Bruce murmured quietly as his hands pressed the glands in your neck, fingers brushing gently against the scent gland in particular. "No swelling in your thyroid or mating nodes, that’s good. Suppressants can really cause problems in your hormone glands; the blood tests will tell us for sure but it looks like you might’ve dodged the worst of it if nothing’s enflamed. How long have you been on suppressants?”

Answering was the last thing on your mind, your eyes slowly roving over the room instead. It was some sort of lab set up, tons of machines and parts of machines, technology you couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Bruce had been taking things from one particular cabinet that seemed to hold medical supplies, the rest of the place resembling a robotics factory or some kind of high-tech research and development lab. The doors had swished open automatically when Steve brought you in and when the new alpha came through. Who had automatic doors in a vacation home?

“Should I stop?” The alpha questioned the doctor, chest continuing to rumble. “I might be making her too calm I guess.”

“No, just keep doing what you’re doing Peter,” Bruce sighed slightly. "There’s too much coherence in her eyes as it is, I don’t know if the purr affects her as much as it should. I’m worried that if you weren’t enhanced it wouldn’t work at all. Look at me sweetie, can you focus on face?”

His hands cupped your cheeks, tilting your head carefully while watching your eyes. You couldn’t find the energy to focus on his face; you couldn’t imagine the purr affecting you more than it already was and dreaded the idea that it could be worse. What did enhanced mean? Like the superheroes you’d been hearing about? You didn’t keep up on current events, unless they were Omega's Rights related.

“I’m sure it’s a result of the beta chemicals dampening her omega instincts,” Peter shifted you slightly as Bruce exchanged his gloves for a new pair. "Once her body starts producing hormones on its own again she should revert back to common responses to alpha stimuli.”

“You’re probably right, we’ll know for sure once I get the blood results,” Bruce gestured for Peter to sit up more, bringing your limp body with him. “I’m going to do a breast exam and a pelvic exam and we’re done. There are some other tests I want to run but I don’t have the equipment on hand so they’ll have to wait until Tony manages to get here. Peter, can you help move her arms?”

You felt like you almost managed to swim through the purr, rage fueling you as hands manipulated your breasts. The exam itself was clinical, professional even—or it would’ve been if he hadn’t been cooing at you the whole time, how good you were being, how sweet you were, how pretty your breasts were. Peter had hummed in agreement along with the doctor, his nose trailing up and down your neck. Your hands clenched into fists and you could feel Peter’s grip on your wrists shift with the movement.

“Calm down, baby,” the alpha’s voice cooed gently against the side of your head, lips pressing into your hair as Bruce shifted away and went for the medical cabinet again. "This is important. Suppressants could’ve caused tons of problems, cancerous growths in sexual organs or secondary sex characteristics is very common.”

Death would be a reprieve. The same thought that crossed your mind any time you considered the potential effects of suppressants. A reprieve from the hiding, the exhaustion, living out of your car or a tent, eating garbage because it was all you could afford—from the constant threat of having your autonomy ripped from your hands.

You relaxed your fists until you felt his grip loosen again, even if only slightly. Your only chance would be to rely on surprise and your speed, there was no other way you’d be able to get away. Forcing your body to relax was a trial though, adrenaline was starting to course through you the more you became used to the effects of the purr. Your scent was still massively dampened by the suppressants, Peter likely wouldn’t be able to smell the shift from fear to anticipation. You bit down on the sluggishly bleeding wound on your tongue, reigniting both the pain and blood flow.

“Alright, last part, we’re almost done and then we’ll get you comfortable, okay?” Bruce was wearing new gloves again, a bottle in hand as he walked back over. "Have you had a pelvic exam before?”

You waited until he was close enough and performed what seemed to be your go to act of defiance: spitting blood directly in his face. He reared back with a short curse, Peter immediately releasing your wrists—his goal was likely to readjust you in his lap, to gain a better hold, but you were fast, faster than an alpha (always faster than alphas, it was all you had). You’d slipped from his lap and darted for the automatic doors before either of them could respond. Running through the woods naked was the lesser evil.

Steel bands. You should’ve noticed, the doors opened too soon for them to be reacting to your presence, you were so focused on getting through. But the moment you did, it felt like steel bands wrapped around your torso, pinning your arms.

The alpha’s scent was like Steve’s—the moment your brain registered it the world went hazy. You were floating, body going limp for a precious few seconds that the alpha used to sweep you into his arms and stalk further into the room. Your senses came back just in time for you to be deposited back into Peter’s lap on the table, a massive blond alpha coming into view for the first time. Your gaze was immediately stuck on his, the heterochromatic eyes nearly hypnotizing. Fighting the daze he put you in was overwhelming, especially when a wide smile split his lips and his cheeks dimpled. One massive hand reached out, almost engulfing the entire lower half of your face.

“Hello little love.” Were alphas always as insanely massive as this one and Steve, or had you just stumbled across literally your worst nightmare? “They told me you’re a flighty thing, I suppose I arrived just in time, hm? Are you going to spit blood in my face as well? It seems to be your calling card.”

The look on your face must’ve betrayed the fact that you were really, really considering it. You had a mouthful of blood and nowhere to put it but his face, honestly. Instead you used the fact that Peter was mostly propping you up to lean over the edge of the table and proceeded to open your mouth, spilling blood down onto the alpha’s shoes nice white shoes.

“I wouldn’t challenge her,” Bruce’s voice drew your attention to where he was using a towel to wipe blood off his glasses, a wry smile and affection clear on his face. "She’s putting a lot of effort into being belligerent.”

The blond alpha rumbled with a grin, thumb brushing across your cheekbone. "It’s been a stressful day for her, there’s nothing she can do that will cause any persisting damage anyway. Let her have her little rebellions.”

You wanted to be furious—what kind of asshole looked a person dead in the eyes and called their attempts to escape false imprisonment little rebellions?—but Peter seemed to have realized where your train of thought had gone because he started purring immediately. Your spine went boneless, laying you flat against his chest.

“Can you lean up against the wall with her?” Bruce directed the younger alpha to shift until both of your legs were dangling over the edge, Peter’s back to the wall the table sat against. “You’re going to need to hold her in place, even while you purr. Alright sweetie, let’s get this out of the way. Thor, will you hold her leg please?”

The sound you made was an accident. Desperation and humiliation were crawling up your spine with astounding speed, even with Peter’s purr going like a motorboat and the sound was making it too hard to think through your instincts. Omega cries were a deliberate counterpart to the noises alphas made; whines and cries and hisses, perfectly pitched to make an alpha’s hindbrain stand at attention. The sound you made was a sharp, chirping whine—distress, distress, distress, help me, help me help m—

“Oh little love,” Thor’s voice had dropped several registers and he gently shuffled Bruce to the side so he could stand in front of you, slipping as close to the table as possible and tugging your legs to rest on either side of his hips and gently running his hands over your skin. “Let’s get you taken care of, you need rest.”

The pheromones he was putting out were meant to calm but you immediately opened your mouth, using the overwhelming scent of your own blood to drown them out. The alpha sighed and stepped aside again, taking your leg with him and spreading your thigh to rest over Peter’s leg with your foot planted on the table. A whine rose in your throat again but you locked it down, instead biting down on your tongue yet again. It was as grounding as it was painful, the tang of it souring your stomach.

It was your last coherent thought, that you were starting to feel nauseous from all of the blood you'd swallowed. Thor began to purr just after that and the sound was entirely devastating, bone deep and you went completely limp, your head falling to the side against Peter’s chest and your shoulders dropping. This is what acid felt like, you were pretty sure.

Your eyes lazily followed Bruce’s path as the doctor took his place between your legs again, lifting the other into a matching position. Some part of you was fully aware of how gut wrenching this was; completely naked and spread wide in front of two alphas and a beta, a situation you’d rather kill yourself than be in, but your brain couldn’t follow any emotional tethers while Thor purred. The doctor was speaking, you could feel his hands manipulating your vulva, but you couldn’t understand anything coming out of his mouth.

Peter’s hand came to your chin and tilted your head back until you could see him, smiling down at you. His mouth moved, your eyes almost able to track the movement of his lips enough to read them but your brain gave up halfway through. The two alphas were chuckling over something but you were distracted by the discomfort of something being inserted into your vagina. A sharp yip escaped your lips, your body still completely boneless as your eyes rolled down.

“It’s a speculum, sweetie, I’m sorry it’s uncomfortable,” it sounded like Bruce was talking underwater and you could almost feel his breath on your thigh, your mind irritatingly unable to think beyond the question 'who just keeps a fucking speculum lying around?' "Just a few more seconds while I get a pap smear.”

More discomfort came before the instrument was removed, another yip leading Peter to purr along side Thor. The rest of the exam was a blur, slippery fingers and pressure and foreign sensations. You could barely think, let alone realize that Bruce was finishing up the manual exam, when your eyes noticed movement behind them. You couldn’t really make out anything, nothing would focus, but you assumed it was Steve and Sam.

There were more voices but you couldn’t hear anything for an indeterminate amount of time. It wasn’t until Thor stopped purring again that you were able to start regaining your senses, as much as the continuous rumbling in Peter’s chest would allow. The difference between the sounds the two alphas produced was marked by your sudden ability to focus your eyes, to concentrate on voices, in the way your muscular control was slowly returning.

You were almost glad the young alpha was still purring—it meant that the spike of terror that tried to shoot through you was somewhat dulled, enough that it wouldn’t show in your scent. Sam and Steve had indeed come in, accompanied by a young woman with long auburn hair and porcelain skin, a beta from the scent. As soon as she made eye contact with you she smiled vibrantly, slipping forward and sneaking between your still spread thighs.

“You’re so beautiful,” she murmured, long fingers stroking absently against your neck as she leaned in, forcing your back tighter against Peter’s chest. "Will you let me see your trauma my love?”

Some sort of red miasma filled your vision, a fog you quickly realized was coming from her hands—and realization slammed into you like a freight train. You seen that before, in passing. And then the recognition made you nauseous—Thor. You didn’t keep up with current events, but certain names you couldn’t miss. Thor, Tony Stark, Captain America. Your eyes flashed to the blond man standing towards the back of the room; Captain America, Steve Rogers.

Desperation shot through your body like you’d been tazed. Your foot shot out of Thor’s hold, the alpha hadn’t been putting any actual effort into holding you still since you’d been so dazed, and connected with the woman’s chest to send her reeling. Before anyone else could respond, your throat rasped for several seconds before a warbling shriek escaped. The four alphas in the vicinity reacted like they’d been shot; Thor and Steve both stumbled back, and Sam’s knees practically gave out, sending him careening into the wall. Behind you, Peter, far too close to the source, immediately went limp.

There were several distress calls an omega could make. Most of the time, they were whines or chirps, noises meant to draw attention from packmates. They were small, careful sounds—nothing loud enough to attract attention from a foreign alpha or delta. Omegas were quarry to be stolen, after all, which was precisely why they had one, singular method of defending themselves against their biggest biological threat and that was a shriek.

When in close proximity, the sound was loud enough and tuned just so to daze an alpha’s hindbrain. The evolutionary explanation was that a loud shriek meant that an omega being confronted by an aggressive alpha could both temporarily stun their attacker and summon assistance—alphas or deltas, far enough away that the negative effects were nullified but within proximity to hear that an omega was in danger. The assumption being, of course, that an omega who shrieked was in danger from a stranger, not a packmate.

It only worked for a very short time though, any alpha or delta in the area would immediately converge on the omega’s location and deal with the problem—it was the reason you hadn’t used it outside. There was no reason for the effects to last when it summoned immediate assistance, though, and that meant you needed to move. You slid off the table, bare feet slapping tile as you just barely managed to dodge Bruce’s grasp. The woman, the witch from the news, was on the floor clutching her sternum.

The stairs were a blur, so was the foyer and the driveway. You hesitated at your car for all of ten seconds before running for the forest; your keys were in the pocket of your jeans, back down in the basement. Abandoning all of your possessions hurt somewhere deep in your heart but there wasn’t any time for sentiment. You had to get away, quickly.

Luckily the woods had become your home a long time ago. You moved between the trees silently, feet so heavily calloused from constantly going barefoot that you didn’t even notice the twigs and sharp stones digging into your flesh. Your brain shot into overtime. You needed to steal clothes, then cash. You’d lived with nothing for years, you could do it again for however long you needed to. The only thing you really needed was suppressants; everything else was a luxury.

You assumed they were behind you, you’d been running for a good three minutes. The straight path meant they could follow you easier but the goal had to be the maximum distance possible rather than the most strategic pattern. Your only advantage was being fast and you had no choice but to rely on it, especially since your hindbrain was wailing with every step you took. The suppressants were the only reason you could do it at all, the trade off for quieting those damn instincts being a tolerable mildness of character that did not appreciate the constant, incessant shriek of your baser self while you were trying to focus.

All you had to do was keep quiet until you could find one of the creeks running through the forest—so close to Lake Superior there was water everywhere. You would run through the creek in several different places, to mask your scent and make it difficult to follow. It wouldn’t be hard to find a hunting blind or shack, a hole in the ground was better than going back there. The moment your eyes caught on running water you dove into it, covering yourself with mud before jumping back up to continue running.

Captain America was super fast and you’d bet the rest of them were similar if not the same and you needed more distance. Somewhere in the back of your mind, prey behavior was setting in. Natural selection had driven your existence, you were the result of thousands of years of evolution, and the life you’d lived meant you were far more adapted to being hunted than most omegas. You were vulnerable but not helpless and as you coated yourself in more mud from a different part of the creek, chemosensory instincts started rattling through you.

They were coming. Your scent was inhibited by the suppressant’s and that made it harder for them to follow you but they were doing their best. Combined with the water and the mud, your scent was very difficult to pin down, even for a super soldier. You contemplated climbing a tree to hide, but the insane memory of how keen the noses of the pack following you were spurred you on. You kept running, covering yourself in mud two more times, before finding a tree with a massive tangle of roots at the bottom. Fighting whatever creature had made a home down there was worth it—it went deep, was heavily covered by underbrush and detritus from the trees, but most importantly it was surrounded by wild bergamot in full bloom.

It smelled lovely, spicy and floral with a citrusy overtone. You crawled through the dirt, wiggling between the roots and carefully avoiding crushing any plants or branches that could give you away. Whatever lived in there was out, likely foraging, and you took the creature’s absence to your advantage and pressed as far back into the hole as possible.

You weren’t tired, despite the long, exhausting day and the fucking trauma. Another small grace that adaption had provided was that once an omega began producing adrenaline, sleep became unnecessary—it was actually considered a very unenviable omega trait in the general population, but you’d found it’s uses worth the unpleasant side effects. Your heart would continue to race for the next several hours, your pupils wouldn’t return to normal for potentially days and your blood sugar had sky rocketed and that was going to be a nightmare for how ever long it lasted.

The waiting was going to hurt—there was nothing to pass the time and you had to actively focus on not being terrified or your omega scent could seep through, oh, what was it now? Five coats of mud from the creek, a significant amount of bergamot, and fifteen years of whatever the fuck suppressants did to your scent over time.

It wasn’t ten minutes later that you heard them. Stealth wasn’t their objective, that was clear from the amount of noise they made. You could hear Steve and Peter calling your name, although you didn’t know how they knew it. Thor was speaking, his tone low but certainly not quiet. They weren’t even moving that fast, walking almost leisurely.

“She’ll need to bathe and eat. Clint and Natasha are finishing up in New York. Steve, have you heard from Tony or Bucky? Carol?”

“Tony’s wrapping up, should be flying over pretty soon. Carol and Bucky were on their way up but I gave them a list of things to grab while they’re going through the bigger cities. Shouldn’t be too much longer for them either though.”

Steve and Thor were different than Sam or Peter. You couldn’t pin down exactly what had set your teeth on edge, but the scent the two blond alphas gave off was different. Their pheromones were worse, more infectious. Eye contact with Steve had made your hindbrain beg to go to him, regardless of the rationality you could usually manage thanks to the suppressants. You could remember the feel of Thor’s hand on like it was seared into your skin instead, you wanted him to never not be touching you ever again—

If you could’ve slapped yourself without making noise you would’ve. The stupid omega in your brain, that dumb, easy cunt was going to get you killed. You sealed your lips, clenched your teeth and tucked your hands under your bent knees. Night was starting to fall to your benefit, the shadows were getting darker. You were so far back they would have to crouch down and crawl half way in to see you.

If you could keep your wits until they passed you could double back, trying to find your keys would be a wash but you could grab clothes from the back of your ancient Tahoe. You weren’t sure how long you’d been in the basement, but you didn’t think it was long enough for them to have gone through your things.

“Could she have gotten this far?” You held your breath as Sam stopped far too close to your hiding place for comfort.

“Omegas are fast and she seemed faster than most,” Bruce answered. “We’ll know for sure once her blood work comes back, but from her physiology I’d say she presents as a classical omega. She’s probably the first in her family in a long, long time. To have a scream that loud in this day and age? The omega gene must’ve been skipped so long that there was no chance for it to adapt to modern omega qualities.”

“There’ve been some studies suggesting that the classical omega attributes are making a come back in the general population,” Peter’s voice came from much farther away. "They haven’t been peer reviewed enough yet and they haven’t been replicated en masse because they don’t have enough subjects, alphas aren’t exactly thrilled to have their omegas studied, but—”

“The lack of data aside, I assume there’s a correlation between the alphas willing to allow their omegas to participate and the behavior of the omega in question. Do you think—”

“Focus, Bruce,” Steve’s voice was light with affection. "The point is that yes, she could’ve gotten this far or farther. The way she keeps running into the creek is messing up the footprints and—”

Their voices faded as they continued the same linear path you’d been running earlier. The fact that they didn’t even sound a little concerned that you could get away was both insulting and unnerving. You didn’t need alphas having that kind of confidence regarding your behavior—and why weren’t they moving any faster? The paranoia was immediate and overwhelming, what did they know about that you didn’t? Something they assumed would hinder you farther along in the woods? Something they were planning for when they found you? When.

You forced yourself to count slowly to six hundred, waiting what you hoped was a full ten minutes before silently crawling out of your hide. Their scents were everywhere, you could smell where Sam had been standing almost directly over the opening in the roots. They were still too close for comfort and you turned, running back through the forest. Your feet were starting to feel sore, usually you’d at least watch where you stepped but there just wasn’t time—you had to get away before they could enact their plans.

The clearing the cabin sat in was coming up and you forced yourself to slow as you approached the tree line, keeping a careful eye out for the beta woman. You couldn’t remember what her call sign was, something to do with witches, and you definitely didn’t want her using that red magic stuff on your head.

The extra seconds of waiting paid off, watching her pace the porch for a few moments before her phone rang. She answered, walking inside and closing the doors behind her. You didn’t wait an extra second, darting across the clearing to where you car was sitting in the driveway with the trunk popped. They must’ve started going through your things but stopped part of the way through.

You could see one of your go bags though, squished between your rolled up sleeping bag and tent. The straps of the bag squeaked with how hard you yanked it out, hesitating slightly—instinct told you to leave the sleeping bag, but you’d grown used to the luxury of it and leaving the stupid thing behind made you decidedly sad. You tossed the straps of the go bag over your shoulder and turned away, knowing it would slow you down and—

There was an Iron Man suit standing directly behind you, gauntlets rested on the hips and the head cocked to the side. You froze, as if staying still could prevent it from noticing you. Fuck, you hoped there wasn’t a man in there. A stupid thought, you considered as you stared silently, trying to decide if there was any way out. Hope was a joke at this point but you didn’t have anything else.

“Hi princess,” it was a distinctly human voice, if filtered. "Hope I didn’t miss too much of the fun.”

content warning: nonconsensual medical procedures, general noncon touching/assault.

edited 7/9/21 - still on hiatus

#avengers x reader #dark!avengers x reader #steve rogers x reader #thor x reader #peter parker x reader #bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #tony stark x reader #bruce banner x reader #carol danvers x reader #clint barton x reader #will reblog w tags

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laequiem · 3 years ago

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Cheek to Cheek in Hell - Chapter 5

Fandom: The Folk of the Air

Pairing: Jude Duarte/Cardan Greenbriar

Rating: explicit

Word count: 1,508

Cardan is an idiot. That is the only explanation for this clownery.

fanfiction masterlist • ao3

Chapter 4 • next chapter • Cheek to Cheek masterpost

Chapter 5. no man's land

Jude POV

Cardan is an idiot.

That is the only explanation for this clownery.

Surely, he knows I have seen him high before. He is always intoxicated, I fail to see how this is any different. Yet, he let himself be poisoned slowly, simply because he did not want me to see him consume.

Idiot. Idiot.

I repeat it to myself as I hear the telltale sound of him inhaling the powder.

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

I look towards the man he has put to sleep. If he hadn’t been so stupid, we would be rid of him. I hate seeing one of the folk using glamour on unexpecting mortals, but we can’t have this man wake up here. Cardan should have sent him to get lost in an imaginary maze and told him to forget everything.

Instead, we’re stuck with a sleeping man who knows he has been put to sleep by some pale teenager after crossing a brick wall straight to no man’s land.

I sigh. Should we throw him out of the alley, put the glamour back up and hope he forgets?

Bribe him? We certainly don’t have the money for this.

Threaten him? Would I kill someone to keep my freedom? No. I have done horrible things, but I would not kill someone again unless they deserved it.

The person who deserves it the most stirs behind me. Cardan hobbles towards the sleeping man, kneels and starts emptying the man’s pockets. I rush to his side.

“What are you doing?” I ask, appalled.

“We need money, don’t we?” he replies matter-of-factly, not even looking at me.

I cross my arms. “We can’t just steal from him.”

He turns to me now, lifting a perfect brow. “Oh, so now you’re a preacher of virtue?”

My lip pulls back in a snarl, and he snorts. He takes out a thick leather wallet from the man’s pockets—thick with bills. Cardan gets back up and hands it to me.

“He followed you here, Jude,” he tells me as I grab it. “I doubt his intentions were good.”

“What do you know about good intentions?” I bite back and he rolls his eyes. I nod towards the pizza box, “Now that you’re well enough to be a jerk, eat.”

Cardan walks back to his little corner behind the dumpster as I open the wallet. I stare at the thick stack of green bills, my heart thumping wildly in my chest.

Don’t get your hopes up, I tell myself, maybe they’re all one dollar bills.

Except they’re clearly not.

“What is that?” Cardan asks, and I turn to him.

He is staring at the open pizza box, his head inclined to the side as he inspects the contents.

“Pizza,” I reply. “Just eat.”

I take out the bills and start counting.

This man has a few hundred dollar bills. I have never seen those in my entire life.

1500$.

I cannot stop the smile that forms on my face as I turn back to Cardan.

And when I see what he has done to the pizza, I laugh and he looks up from his work.

“What?” he asks, and I just laugh harder.

Tears prick at my eyes. It’s the kind of hysterical laugh that only comes from your life being completely absurd. From finding the money you need to rent a place, then seeing the boy you hate remove all the pepperoni from a pizza and stack them like a reconstituted sausage. Cardan takes a bite out of the thing.

I start to calm down as he finishes up his strange pepperoni mille-feuille.

“There’s over a thousand in there,” I tell him between long breaths.

“I assume that’s good?”

I grab the newspaper I had before I went out to the get the pizza, flipping through it to find the apartments, “It’s enough to rent a place.”

I spend hours looking through the papers, tearing out the ads of places we can afford. At one point, the man stirs and Cardan goes up to him. As if it were second nature, he orders him to leave and forget he ever saw our faces. The man, in a daze, follows his orders and leaves the alley, straight through the illusionary brick wall.

Cardan sits in his corner most of the day, sometimes staring at me, sometimes tearing small chunks of pizza to eat. I find it too endearing to show him how to eat it properly.

When the sun is at its highest, I rehearse the speech I will give the landlords on the phone.

“Hello, my friend and I would be interested in visiting the place you are renting.”

The words feel so strange. They should feel mundane to my human tongue, but they are words I never thought I would utter. Not when I thought I would spend the rest of my days in Elfhame, fighting for my right to be there.

I do not know how to define my relationship to Cardan. I try so many different options, and I can’t bear to look at him as I say the things that can only be labelled as lies.

My roommate. My boyfriend. My husband. My… partner? They’re all lies, all wrong.

My worst enemy is not something a landlord would want to hear.

When I finally make the first call, I don’t mention Cardan.

“Hi, I saw your ad and I wanted to know if the apartment is still available.”

By the time the sun comes down, I have a good schedule of places to visit in the Bronx tomorrow.

When I am done, I join Cardan by his dumpster to finally eat some of the cold pizza.

Cardan reaches for a piece after I do, his dark eyes watching my every movement intently. He copies the way I eat it, holding the crust and supporting the underside of the slice as I bite into it.

It’s still delicious, even cold and pepperoni-less. Unconsciously, I let out a small content sigh.

“What is your favorite mortal food?” Cardan asks, breaking the thick silence.

I purse my lips as I think. Pizza is really high up there. Otherwise… There are very few things I remember from my time in the Mortal Realm. Except for one that never left me.

“My mom used to make these pastries,” I say, nostalgic, “pastéis de nata. They’re little tarts filled with egg custard. I haven’t had them since…” I trail off. Since she was murdered. “I’d like to try them again, see if they’re as good as I remember them.”

“Perhaps we can find a place here that makes them,” he offers.

I don’t know why, but the proposition makes me smile. “Perhaps,” I repeat after him.

When I reach for the last piece, I notice Cardan was also reaching for it, but he pulled back before grabbing it.

We don’t do much for the rest of the night. We don’t talk either. We just sit in silence, the thrum of the bustling city a constant melody outside our dirty alleyway.

After relieving myself behind a dumpster and making a mental note to buy tampons tomorrow, I make my way to my makeshift bed.

I climb over the dumpster Cardan sleeps behind, then swing myself over the railing of the lowest landing of the emergency stairs. The corner I have been sleeping in for the last week is nothing fancy. Flat cardboard lines the cold metal and I have stuffed my dirty clothes in a garbage bag to use as a pillow. No blanket, since I only found one and Cardan needed it more than me.

I lay down on my cardboard and try to tune out the sounds of the city. Faraway, an ambulance blares its song. Cars honk, streetlights buzz, people talk and yell and cheer and—

The landing shakes as silent feet land next to me.

I turn on my back and open my eyes, only to be met with Cardan’s tall, dark form standing over me like Death incarnate.

“What are you—” I start asking, a little panicked until I see the blanket in his hands. I frown. “Keep it. I’m fine.”

Cardan rolls his eyes, then swings the blanket over me.

“You’re cold,” he says. A corner of the blanket lifts and he slips under it too, “and I have been told I am burning.”

I had not noticed how much I was shivering until his warm arm snakes around my waist and he shifts closer to me. The other one slides under the garbage bag I use as a pillow.

His hips are flush against my backside, sharp hipbones digging into my cheeks. He tangles one of his legs around mine.

“This is just for warmth,” he whispers to himself.

I breathe deeply.

“You are very warm,” I confirm.

“Does it make up for the burden of bringing me along?” he asks me, and I feel him smile against my hair.

“Just an idiot,” I say softly as I drift away to sleep, “not a burden.”

-----

tag list: @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @thefolkofthefic @figonas @kingandfireheart @godgavemelou @lizziebxnnet @hazelsheartsworn @jurdannet

#the folk of the air #jurdan #judecardan #tfota #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #the cruel prince #the queen of nothing #the wicked king #fanfic #fic #jurdannet #add to masterlist

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delimeful · 5 years ago

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WIBAR Intermission: New Friends

winner of the first july patreon poll! thanks to @legendsgates for allowing me to sneak in a brief cameo of their alien species, cetarfreka!

previous intermission episode | start of WIBAR

warnings: violence, fear, tension, ptsd episodes, injury mention, being held hostage, misunderstandings, deception

It was about halfway through their trading circuit that the vidcomm from the Mindscape popped up.

Remyy perked up instantly, Patton’s distinctive singsong voice clear even from half across the main bay. They dropped to their feet and tucked all their wings tight against them to signal that anyone in the way should swiftly get out of the way. Those in the bay who knew them cast strange glances in their direction as they hop-skittered across the floor.

Remyy couldn’t blame them; this was probably the fastest they’d moved all week. They usually maintained a much more casual demeanor for the sake of their reputation, but in this case...

“Patton! Babes, you’re really okay!”

“Remyy!” The Ampen fluffed up, a pleasant glow filling the room around him, face pinching up happily.

In this case, exceptions would be made.

The Obrxyx currently managing the comms sighed at them, unimpressed. “You have this one, then?”

“Sure do,” Remyy drawled, still leaning between xem and the monitor so that half their face took up the comm screen. “We go way back, I’ll get them docked.”

They waited impatiently for xem to move to a different comm terminal, adjusted the seatpad so they could be seen properly through the comm, and promptly started complaining. “I can’t believe you guys, holing up in that rinky dink ship for so long with only voice calls to tell everyone that you were okay! Where’s the gossip? Why in the universe would you keep it from me?”

Patton’s hands jerked, and the comm screen wobbled, blurring his expression strangely for a moment. Remyy tilted their goggles slightly for a better angle, but by the time the mobile communicator stabilized, any change in demeanor had vanished.

“Be careful, Rem,” Patton said teasingly, “it almost sounds like you care about us or something.”

“Funny,” Remyy replied dryly, “I’ll have you know that I’ve just been missing Logan’s high quality deathbrew, none of that sentimental garbage.”

Patton laughed at them silently with his gaze alone. Innocent, naive Ampen, their ass.

“Are we cleared to dock y-- Is that Remyy?” Another voice from offscreen dropped abruptly into horror, and Remy’s eyes narrowed in gleeful amusement.

“It sure is, gurl,” they called, “and the Remyy in question seems to recall a certain bet that was never paid up on. 30 cenals, cough ‘em up.”

There was a loud groan, and then a thump that shook the comm slightly. Patton spent a moment staring at something with a confused frown, and then seemed to get it, nodding. He turned back to them very seriously.

“Sorry, Roman can’t come to the comm right now,” he informed them. “He, uh, died. Very recently. And tragically."

Belatedly, he put on a sad expression, antennae drooping. Remyy raised their eyebrows, unimpressed.

“Uh huh. Well, I suppose I’ll just have to join in on the funeral rites once I get down to help carry the goods over, huh--?”

“No!” The voices of both his friends overlapped, making the comm audio fuzz harshly for a moment. Remyy’s secondaries flared slightly, taken aback at the vehemence.

“Uh, I mean, we don’t have that much,” Patton hurried to patch up the awkward pause. “How about we meet you in the docking lobby instead? You can get Roman’s credits there.”

“Hey!”

Remyy’s ears angled back with displeased confusion, but they acquiesced anyhow. “Hurry up, then. And make sure Logan brings my brew!”

Whatever it was they were hiding, Remyy was sure they’d be able to weasel it out of them in no time.

---

After grabbing a short meal and a boring haggling session between the Mindscape’s crew and the cargo manager of the Starwinder, Remyy finally got to learn about what had happened to Patton during his disappearance.

It wasn’t pretty.

Their senspatches felt dry at the mere thought of Patton stripped of his coat and forced to starve because of it. It was beyond lucky that the remaining two of the trio managed to find and free the Ampen from the harvesters before it was too late. If anyone could do it, though, they believed this crew could.

Patton had grown quieter and less fluffy throughout the course of the tale, with Roman and Logan taking turns delivering a well-practiced explanation of the events. Seeing as these were extenuating circumstances, Remyy submitted to cuddles just this once, allowing the small alien to bury his face in the folds of their leathery armwings.

They took a moment once the story was over, casually and completely unintentionally folding more of their wing over Patton. “That bites, babes.”

“Yeah.” The Ampen hummed in response, mouth pinched strangely. “I… I’m really grateful that I got help when I did.”

Logan set a careful hand on Patton’s back, though the motion almost came across as less comforting and more… cautioning? Remyy’s senspatches flared up slightly as they tried to read more into the situation.

Before they could really investigate, though, Roman was leaning forwards and grabbing the edge of their arm to get their attention.

“Remyy. We’ve been having something of an adjustment period. Drop it, please?”

They flickered their ears at him dismissively, but really… looking at the small crew, they could see a sort of wariness reflected in their stiff posture, the way the three of them constantly cast glances back to the dock hall that would lead to their ship. Trying to make sure they had a quick exit. Whatever the details of their experience, it was stressing them out to lay it all out in the open like this. Remyy could understand that.

“Fine, whatever,” they sighed, sipping at the bitter brew Logan had thoughtfully provided. “I suppose I’ll keep my awe-inspiring ability to root out interesting tidbits to myself for now. I can just grill Lo later.”

The three friends slumped in relief, and Remyy turned their face away slightly to allow them some privacy to recover. They probably wouldn’t appreciate it, that was mostly an Elimtran thing, but it was the effort that counted. They cast about for some other topic to distract. What else had they heard about lately… oh!

“Have you all heard the stories about the rogue Human going around lately?”

There was spluttering, and they turned back to see Roman seemed to have inhaled mid-drink, and was now muffling coughs into his shoulder. Patton studiously avoided eye contact as he patted the Cravon sympathetically. Logan shifted one arm out from where they were politely tucked away, looking intensely intrigued. Strange, he wasn’t usually one for gossip.

“We have not,” he stated, hands twitching in preparation for his thought weaving thing. “Would you care to elaborate?”

“Uh, duh,” they replied, trying not to think too much on the rather extreme reaction. If the crew was really so stressed, it made sense that news of a Human would freak them out. Shit, they sucked at this. Gathering information would make them feel more secure, yeah? “It’s been circulating at some of the more shady ports we’ve been to, rumors that a small-tier smuggling ring recently managed to rise through the ranks just because they got their hands on a Human and knew how to use it to their advantage. That much is like, okay, horrifying to know that there’s still Humans out there in the outer ranges, but whatever, it’s under lock and key.”

Patton clung to their wing tighter. They paused, deliberating on whether or not to continue.

“I assume, going by the fact that you called h-- it a ‘rogue’ Human, that's not the case anymore?” Logan supplied, waving for them to proceed.

“Well, yeah. Apparently, it tore through practically half the group members before escaping, and now people are reporting cases of a bloodthirsty Human all over this quadrant. Not that the calls are accurate. It’s just hearsay,” they made sure to add. “It might just be someone trying to work the local governs into a panic, put pressure on the Council for this or that political maneuver.”

Logan didn’t respond for a concerning amount of time. “Right. Of course, that is plausible. Still, thank you for the information, Remyy. We will… keep it in mind.”

Remyy sunk lower in their seat, regretting bringing the topic up at all. “Mm. You do that, babes. Remember the stats, too. There’s a warrant out. Sooner or later, the Council will probably find whoever’s at the source of the rumors and put them to rights, Human or not.”

“That’s… great,” Roman got to his feet abruptly. “I think maybe we should head out soon. We’ve got that next landing to prep for, after all. Holmao isn’t known for its gentle terrain.”

“What?” Remyy’s secondaries flared slightly as they stood up too, abandoning their drink and dislodging Patton. “You just got here! Aren’t you at least going to catch a night’s rest? No offense to your ship, but the arti-grav ain’t exactly stellar.”

“That’s why we need to do more jobs! Save up for better arti-grav installation, right guys?” Roman’s voice seemed slightly frantic. Remyy suddenly remembered what little history the Cravon had shared with them, and swore mentally. They really, really shouldn’t have brought up the Human.

“Ro, look, I’m so--”

Their voice abruptly cut off as a cool line of metal pressed between their wings, right against their life vein. They saw as Roman’s eyes locked on something behind them, scales rising to a prickling stand quicker than they’d ever witnessed before.

“Nobody move,” a voice behind them called in clear, precise Common. “Or you get to bleed out right after this one.” The flat of the blade pressed harder against their back, and they couldn’t stop their ears from flattening completely in terror.

“Let them go,” Roman demanded, halfway to a snarl. Before he could even take a step, though, more armed strangers were swarming into the lobby, barking orders for the few other people currently in the room to get down. Expression dark, Roman held his arms out in a gesture of compliance, though his scales continued to stick out in a defensive bristle.

Raiders, it had to be. Remyy knew they knew the reptilian symbol that was engraved in each of the strangers black masks, but they couldn’t remember the group’s name for the fear flooding their mind, keeping them frozen in place.

One of them kicked Patton clear away from Remyy’s legs, and the Ampen let out a short shriek of pain before clapping his hands over his mouth. The raider behind Remyy laughed, apparently unconcerned about any alarms being raised, but Remyy was more focused on the way the Mindscape crew exchanged panicked glances, Logan kneeling next to Patton and subtly signing something in Crav’n.

“Now, here’s how this is going to work.” The one behind Remyy gestured with their other hand, which Remyy could now see was holding a paralyzer. Raiders were known for using them to get information, since most aliens could take a few shots from one before succumbing to the pain. “You’re all going to line up against the wall while we search your vessels, and in exchange, nobody has to die, got it?”

Remyy could only look straight ahead, so they got a clear view of Patton’s furious glow dimming down to horrified in an instant at the leader’s words. Whatever the three of them were hiding, it was hidden on their ship, and apparently not well enough.

They ran their tongue along their teeth for a moment, debating, and then wiggled their ears slightly, loosening the grip their goggles had until they were slipping down their face slightly. Only their upper eyes were exposed, but with any luck, it would be enough.

It wasn’t long till they managed to make eye contact with a nearby raider; the leader was the one giving orders, after all, and they were being held hostage by said leader, so it made sense that eyes would stray in their direction.

The moment they locked gazes, Remyy flickered their pupils and let their senspatches slowly pulse. The raider took a moment to bob their head in confusion before becoming visibly more relaxed, and Remyy didn’t waste any time. 'Circle around and attack the one holding me.'

The raider swayed slightly for a moment before moving to obey, a side effect of not being exposed to the full hypnotic effect of their eyes, and Remyy had a moment to feel hopeful that maybe they could actually pull this off.

“Grahh’m, what are you-- Oh, you little shit,” the leader spat, moments before a strike to the side of Remyy’s head had them seeing stars. They heard Roman growling furiously, still forced to the ground under threat of gunfire, and hoped that he wouldn’t do anything stupid. He wouldn’t be any use if he was convulsing from pain.

“I should have known better than to leave an Elimtra awake and armed, hmm?” The leader flipped them to their back, pressing a knee to their chest and crushing their secondaries uncomfortably against the floor. A moment later, their other hand was shoving their goggles harshly back over their face.

Remyy gagged slightly as all the air was forced from their lungs. “Probably should’ve, ye-- eah,” they replied, struggling to inhale again.

“Funny.” There was a glint of silver uncomfortably close to their eyes. The knife. Remyy regretted the snark. They regretted the snark so much.

The leader paused. “Oren, is it the eyes or the little spots under them that do the hypnotizing, do you recall?”

There was a pause, in which ‘Oren’ seemed to have no answer, and Remyy realized with a chill just what was being threatened. The leader considered them for a moment, and then pulled their dark mask further up to cover more of their face.

“I suppose I’ll just get rid of both, hmm?” The knife wavered closer.

Across the room, there was a loud crash, and a strangled yell that cut off as quick as it started. Remyy watched as the leader’s head jerked up, and saw the moment that the severe frown on their face abruptly transformed into utter terror. Hurriedly, the raider stood back up, and they were pulled up along, shoved in front of them like a shield.

It didn’t take long to see why. Across the lobby, near the entrance to the dock halls, a tall, slender figure was holding the remains of what must have been a seatpad. The rest of it appeared to be lying crumpled along with the limp raider that had been closest to that entryway.

The whisper spread through the room as quick as any small-town rumor: Human.

The being was scanning the eerily-silent space, and when it reached the spot where the leader stood, accompanied by Remyy and friends, it’s lips curled up into a vicious snarl, teeth on full display. It moved forwards in a way Remyy could only describe as predatory, and the leader went tense behind them. “Stop that thing, now!”

One raider, either damn brave or damn stupid, charged right in, and received the rest of the seatpad to the skull for their efforts. Remy winced at the sound. This seemed to be the signal for the rest of the raiders to converge, and the room descended into pandemonium.

In the thick of it all, the Human-- for what else could it really be?-- continued to advance, unrelenting. It wasn’t as fast as some aliens Remyy had met, but it didn’t need to be. The way that it stalked through the room radiated threat like an oath, and when opponents did dare to stand in it’s way, the blows were vicious and crunching, often leaving splatters of residue on its skin.

Most frightening of all was the way it handled the paralyzers, which should have driven any creature with pain receptors to the floor. Each time a shot landed on the human, it would tear the spiked prongs out with a twitch and a grimace and just keep moving.

By the time the leader realized that a strategic retreat was long overdue, it was already far too close for comfort. Remyy heard a swear behind them, and then they were being shoved, hard.

They caught a glimpse of Roman moving, and then they found themself busy tripping directly into a Human’s warpath. So much for surviving this.

They folded their wingarms over their head in some paltry attempt at defense as they fell. There was a grunt, and then a hot grip on their shoulders, all-too-close to the base of their secondaries and stars above were they going to have their glider wings torn clear off--?

“‘Scuse me,” the Human muttered in Common, and then lifted Remyy clear off the ground, easy-as-you-please, and set them down to the side. It brushed past them, heading straight towards Roman and the others, and Remyy stared after it.

Rather than continue after the leader, who had been thoroughly pinned by Roman and was currently swearing viciously, the Human stopped in front of Logan and Patton and dropped to a crouch. Remyy jerked forward, but neither of their friends seemed keen to jump away or defend themselves. In fact, Patton looked to be carefully headbutting the Human’s chest, and Logan was speaking in low, comforting tones. Even stranger, the Human seemed to be listening.

The circuits connected in their mind, illuminating a truly outlandish conclusion.

They whistled lowly, drawing all the attention in the room to them. “Listen up, babes. As a subsect representative of the Council, I’m authorized to do my thing here, so I’m gonna need everyone to follow my directions.”

“Remyy, what?” Roman asked, and was thoroughly ignored. A nearby Cetarfris protested from where they were practically pressed halfway up the wall, red eyes wide and patterned tail thrashing in terror.

“Are you genuine? Do you not see the Human right there?”

Remyy clicked their tongue in reproach. “Gurl, do I not have enough eyes for you or somethin’? I will handle the Human. What else is the Council good for?”

“Uh, governing?” someone else muttered. Remyy ignored them, too.

“I need all the raiders that haven’t already jetted in holding cells immediately. I’m sure there’ll be a hefty reward for members of this particular gang, even if they’re small fries, so anyone who pitches in can get some of that bounty. And remember, keep your mouths shut about this unless you want to be up to your orifices in paperwork at best. If you have to gossip, keep names out of it or I'll know who snitched.” Remyy shifted their goggles up on their forehead, turning to the Human and ignoring the thick tension in the room. “I’ll escort the Human to proper captivity. Roman, Logan, Patton, with me.”

As expected, the mere fact that the Mindscape crew were accompanying seemed to put the Human at ease, even if just slightly. Now, came the bit that would make or break the lie. They moved forwards slowly and reached out for the Human’s shoulder, tugging slightly at it as though this wasn't the creature that had just plowed through a band of raiders like they were dust in the wind. “C’mon, babes.”

After a pause, the Human followed. The relief in the room was palpable, and Remyy was no exception. They liked a good bet as much as the next guy, but generally preferred when there weren’t so many lives at stake.

See, the thing about being a species that was somewhat infamous for their hypnotic abilities was that everyone assumed you were using them, even if you weren’t. This tended to lean more in the direction of being a bad thing, but in this case, it helped Remyy tremendously, as nobody cast a second glance at them as they guided the docile Human through the lobby.

That might also have been because nobody wanted to be in the same room as a rogue Human for very long, but such was the way of things. Small details.

Soon enough, they reached the dock halls, and Remyy swiftly led the four of them onboard the Mindscape. They closed and locked the connecting port after them, and resisted the urge to collapse in relief.

Instead, they turned around to assess the rest of this mess.

It was quite a scene, and at first, they seemed too busy amongst themselves to even notice Remyy.

The Human was curled in on themself in one corner, looking pallid and ill, but also coiled so tightly it looked like they were one wrong word from fleeing the quadrant. Positioned firmly in front of them, Roman was audibly rattling from head to tail, moving on automatic as he bodily prevented the other two from approaching. Remyy would have thought the gesture was for the Human’s sake if not for the way Roman angled his own body, like he expected to be attacked from behind at any moment.

“It’s not safe,” he uttered over and over, gaze haunted. “It’s not safe. You have to hide.”

Patton warbled in wordless distress, and Logan gave up on trying to pull Roman away, instead simply holding his ground and speaking to the Cravon, calm and firm.

“This isn’t then, Roman. We’re here, and that is Virgil, and he is not going to hurt us. We’re safe. We are on the Mindscape. We are safe. Observe the space around you. Can you tell me five things you see?”

Remyy waited unobtrusively as the two of them slowly coaxed Roman back into the present, bit by bit. When he hunched over to be closer to his shorter friends, Patton carefully grabbed his hand, rubbing small circles into it in a soothing gesture Remyy wasn’t familiar with. “You with us, Ro?”

Roman signed something with his other hand, too quick for Remyy to grasp, and Patton smiled, a bit sad. “We’re okay, but there’s a little bit of a situation going on with Remyy, remember?”

Roman glanced at them, and then to the Human, who was still vibrating violently. Remyy had thought it was barely restrained anger, at first, but the longer they watched, the more it seemed compulsive, more fearful than furious. It only increased as Roman’s attention fell heavy on him.

“I didn’t mean to,” the Human said, voice as shaky as the rest of him. “I swear, I-- I just heard Patton yell, and they had weapons, like-- I… I didn't want to hurt anyone. I’m sorry that I-- that I did. But you guys were in danger. I couldn’t just... leave you to that.”

He sounded almost resigned, like he was trying to plead his case but had already accepted deep down that it was pointless to fight his sentence. When Roman turned away from him, his thoughts only seemed to be confirmed, and his face dropped another shade as his gaze darted over to Remyy. He seemed apprehensive, not that Remyy could really blame him. Poor guy probably thought he was about to be surrendered to law enforcement.

“Remyy.” Roman’s voice sounded wrung out, and from Patton’s concerned expression, the Cravon probably didn’t normally force himself to speak after episodes like this. “Virgil isn’t-- He’s better here with us. He doesn’t... deserve to be subjected to the Council just because he decided to... to save us.”

The Cravon opened his mouth as though to say more, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he signed something short and planted himself in a sitting position in front and slightly to the side of the Human, even as his scales still shivered. ‘Virgil’ was staring at him like he’d grown a second head.

“Roman’s right!” Patton took the opportunity to jump in front of them like the universe’s smallest, cutest guardian angel, cloak and ruff fluffed up stalwartly. Most effective of all was the Ampen’s ‘I’m-not-mad-I’m-just-disappointed-at-your-life-choices’ look. “Virgil is part of our family, and I’ll fight you about it!”

The Ampen’s tiny glare wasn't nearly as alarming as the assessing look Virgil cast over them, like he thought Remyy was really going to try and fight Patton and was prepared to intervene. They resisted the urge to cast their lower eyes up in exasperation. Who would fight Patton? There was no reward, you’d just end up feeling bad. And also end up getting totally trashed by a Human, apparently.

As always, Logan was the one to get it first. He stepped forwards, extending a hand. “Before you take any legal action against our crew member, I’d like to see your Council identification.”

Remyy’s cheeks bunched up smugly as they stretched their armwings out in front of them casually. “That’s too bad, Brainiac, ‘cause I totally don’t have any.”

There was a brief pause. “What, you guys really thought I was some kind of narc?”

“You lied right to all those people’s faces?” Patton asked, somewhat aghast. Roman shot them a dirty look at the deception, but he also let all the tension leak out of him, so Remyy counted it as a win. Logan simply looked exasperated.

“Not completely. I’ve got connections to get their bounties called in quick, and I ‘handled’ the Human, didn’t I? It’s not my fault if they misinterpreted things.”

“This is all you’re going to do to… ‘handle’ me?” the Human asked, looking uncertain, a little suspicious, and even kind of bewildered. “Just… let me go? What’s the catch?”

They really did roll their eyes up this time. “Babes, I’m covering for you. Seeing as you literally just saved my beautiful face, and these losers vouch for you, I figure you can get some benefit of the doubt. Besides, I’m not done with you all just yet.”

The four of them studied Remyy with varying levels of wariness, and then confusion as the Elimtra strolled past them all to head further into the ship.

“If you think you’re going anywhere before you tell me all about how this whole situation came about, honey, you’ve got a big storm coming.”

#sanders sides #space au #wibar #ts remy #ts roman #ts patton #ts logan #ts virgil #watch it burn and rust #wibar intermission #wibar int: nf #writing #my writing #im so tired... zzz #this is the first time ive ever written remy so please be nice #i had fun though ;w;#i cant think of any more tags i hope you guys enjoy!#zzz

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p-artsypants · 4 years ago

Text

Lovelace

Convinced that he's unlovable, Adrien is quickly thrown for a loop when Marinette confesses her love for him out of the blue. An akumatization and reveal later, he changes his mind about being unlovable.

Ao3 | FF.net

Self-Indulgent Angst and Fluff.

They say that a part of growing up is coming to doubt things you thought you knew.

Adrien never thought he’d doubt how he perceived love.

But here he was, the day after a...sort of breakup. He had finally bit the bullet with Kagami and admitted he didn’t love her, so he couldn’t date her. She had taken rather well, knowing that he was telling the truth. And then confessed her own truth, that she hadn’t loved him in the first place. She felt kinship and attraction to him, but it wasn’t love.

His father, on the other hand, had not taken it well. Not at all.

The conversation, or lecture rather, had been rolling around in Adrien’s head all morning. Try as he might, he couldn’t shake it.

How could you just brush off something so awful? So world shattering?

—

Today was the day! Marinette was certain of it. Maybe her Miraculous melded with her finally and gave her the courage. Or maybe it was the nostalgia of the rain pattering on the sidewalk. But today it was going to happen.

She was going to confess to Adrien.

She was a little late, still on time for school, but last to arrive to class. Everyone else was already seated and talking among themselves. Miss Bustier was even in, preparing for the lesson.

Marinette entered the room, eyes on target.

He looked tired, or bored, or maybe even sad. She wasn’t sure. But she couldn’t dwell on it. She just had to do it. Do it and say it and get it out!

“Good morning, Adrien!” She smiled, her grin large and genuine and portraying the love she felt for him.

“Oh,” he blinked, his own smile coming in slowly, and dimly. “Good morning, Marinette.”

She could have forced a conversation, or just made small talk, but the truth just bubbled out of her.

“I’m in love with you.” She said, still smiling.

The room fell quiet, and everyone simultaneously heard her confession.

Adrien stared at her, wide-eyed and...scared? “What?”

“I love you, Adrien.” She should have been nervous, but she wasn’t. She should have backtracked, and weaseled her way out of it. But she just gave a little shrug. “Just thought I should tell you, finally.”

He wasn’t saying anything, anything at all. He just stared at her.

Everyone stared at her. Chloe, Lila, Alya, Miss Bustier, everyone.

Silence ticked by as her adrenaline gave way to embarrassment.

She just clapped her hands together. “Um, you don’t have to say it back of course. Just Uh...it’s something I had been meaning to say, and I just...decided to get it off my chest. So...okay...” and she awkwardly walked passed him and sat down, her face growing warmer with each step.

“Girl!” Alya whispered harshly. “What was that?!”

“My confession. I’ve held it long enough, so I’m finally coming clean.”

“Why now? Why like that? Why all of a sudden out of nowhere?”

Marinette shrugged. “Just woke up with the courage.”

Adrien, for his part, didn’t dare turn around. He kept his eyes laser focused forward, unseeing.

The room broke into whispers. Complete disbelief, which was understandable.

But the clock struck the hour, and class was supposed to start. Despite the absolute bomb that had just gone off in the classroom, Miss Bustier got up and started the lesson.

Marinette wasn’t paying attention to the lesson of course. Horrible thoughts started to roll around in her head, worst case scenarios. He was sort of with Kagami, right? Crap, she had forgotten about that! Ugh, this was all messed up now! He probably hated her guts and he’d get his father to blacklist her from the industry and—

“Adrien, are you alright?” Miss Bustier asked, cutting through Marinette’s turmoil.

Adrien’s shoulders were hunched, his hands in fists at his side as he trembled.

He sniffled, and Nino reached out a hand to him.

Oh god, it was worse than she thought! She made him cry!

Adrien stood swiftly. “I need to be excused!” He shouted, leaving everything behind, before bolting out of the room and slamming the door shut behind him.

Marinette stared in shock, guilt coiling in her gut.

“What did you do?” Asked Alya.

“I...I have no idea...” Marinette whispered back, tears in her eyes.

“I’ll go check on him,” Lila said, voice full of convincing concern. She stood and left quickly.

Of course, Marinette didn’t want Lila getting anywhere near him while he was so vulnerable, but was she any better? She was probably the last person he wanted to see.

But she should at least apologize, for whatever she did.

There was just something nagging in her Ladybug brain. What would cause someone to cry after hearing someone loved them?

Had Adrien loved her once, and given her up? Were these words too late and too bitter now?

She just couldn’t understand. But guilt and heartache for doing this to the man she loved wracked her with pain.

“LEAVE ME ALONE!”

Adrien’s voice echoed through the courtyard, stalling Miss Bustier’s lesson.

Chloe took out her phone and started frantically texting.

Marinette waited in anxiety.

A moment later, Lila returned, tears on her cheeks. “He hit me!” She cried. “I don’t know why! I was just trying to offer him comfort! I know it must be hard for him to get love confessions from crazed fans all the time—“

“I’m going to talk to him,” Marinette decided. She couldn’t stand another minute. Not another minute of Adrien suffering. She couldn’t allow it.

“That might not be a good idea...” Miss Bustier began.

But Marinette scooted around her and out of the room.

In the courtyard, she could hear him sniveling.

She hurried down the steps, scanning the room for any sign of him.

And there he was. Hunched over against the wall. Knees brought up, head resting against them. It was a pose she had never seen him in.

She didn’t want him to yell at her too. She didn’t know if her heart could take it.

But she couldn’t help him if she didn’t try. So she stepped closer, making sure he could hear her steps so she didn’t frighten him.

“Adrien?” She asked softly.

He whipped his head up, his teeth pulled into a snarl. “I said—!” But then he stopped, seeing her there instead. “Oh, Marinette...”

It was then that she noticed the scarf on the ground. The one she had made him, that he believed was from his father.

It was ruined. It had been torn apart, like someone had dug their fingers between the weaves and pulled.

She crouched and picked it up.

“It’s garbage.” Adrien clarified. “I don’t want it. I can’t even look at it.”

She trembled, and tried not to cry. Her confession sent him into tears. Her scarf was subjected to his anger.

What had she done? Where had she wronged him? And what could she do to fix it?

“I-I’m sorry,” she started. “I meant to tell you earlier, but you seemed so happy thinking it was from your father. I didn’t mean to lie...”

He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“The...scarf? This scarf? I thought—I made this for you, for your birthday. I signed it and everything, but it must have fallen off or—“

“You made that for me?” His voice was incredibly small as he pushed off the wall and stood on shaking legs.

“I thought you found out...isn’t that why you ruined it? I made you cry...”

He violently shook his head no, before crushing her into a hug.

He nuzzled his face into her neck, and dug his fingers into her jacket, almost painfully. “Marinette...” he whimpered. “Sweet Marinette.”

She stood in shock. So he wasn’t mad at her? She returned the hug, squeezing him tightly and playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Can you fix it?” He whispered.

“What?”

“The scarf…” he touched the unraveling thread. “If I had known, I wouldn’t have—I would have treasured it more. Please Marinette.”

It was ruined. No doubt about it. Some of the yarn was frayed and snapped completely.

“I’ll make you a new one,” she promised, “one without any doubt of who it’s from.” She tied a few of the broken threads together and looped the scarf around his neck. It would do for now.

He sniffed and rubbed at his face. “Thank you…thank you…”

She had never seen him so…undone. Just like the scarf, he was falling to pieces, and she had no idea how to react to it.

“I know you want to be alone,” she began. “But I don’t want you…to be akumatized.”

“You’re the only person I want around right now. I trust you and...” he started crying again. Fat tears running down his cheeks, before he tried to hide it with his hand. “I’m sorry...this is really pathetic.”

“No...no no Adrien, you’re not pathetic...” Summoning every ounce of courage she had, she held his cheek and swiped his tears. “Obviously something happened. You don’t usually cry like this. At least as far as I’ve seen.”

“I think I’ve been holding it in,” he chuckled lamely. “Kept thinking that my heartaches weren’t worth crying over...but it caught up to me. I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“It’s okay, Adrien. I guess my confession was the straw that broke the camel’s back, huh?”

He held her hand to his cheek and closed his eyes with a sigh. “Something like that.”

Marinette gave him a little smile, though he wouldn’t see it, before reaching down and taking hold of his hand. “Let’s get out of here for a while, huh? We’re good students, we can handle it.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure as hell not leaving you alone. Besides, I know somewhere peaceful we can talk. Let me just grab my umbrella.”

Adrien followed her to the locker room, hand firmly in hers, and not eager to let go anytime soon.

They walked in silence, as Adrien occasionally sniffed and wiped his cheeks.

Even though Marinette, the nicest girl he knew, was here now, loving him, his tears still would not stop.

She took him to the bakery.

“Marinette!” Sabine scolded. “Why aren’t you at school?!”

Marinette gave her mother a sheepish look. “Adrien needed some fresh air. I volunteered to escort him.”

It was then that Sabine took in his face, and her expression softened immediately. “Oh...did...you want snacks?”

“Not if it’s a burden, Mrs. Cheng.” Adrien damn near whispered.

“It’s not, dear. Not in the least. Let’s see...Marinette says you like almonds, and passionfruit macarons, oh and we have pain au chocolat fresh from the oven!” She quickly made up a bag of goodies and handed them over.

“Thanks mom! You’re the best!”

“Yes, thank you Madam Cheng!”

Sabine gave him an affectionate and painless pinch on the cheek. “Of course, sweetie. You’re welcome here anytime!”

Adrien’s eyes welled up with tears again, as he tried his damndest not to let them fall. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice drowning with emotion.

Marinette took his hand once again, and led him out of the bakery, back into the rain.

As they paused under the awning, Adrien recognized the umbrella she was opening.

“Hey, is that...the one I gave you?”

“Sure is!” She popped it open and placed it over their heads. “Well, in the spirit of full disclosure, I think you should know...that was when I fell in love with you.”

“All the way back then? And you never told me?” He thought back to all the clues he had, but all the times she declared, firmly, that they were just friends. Even his entire sorta relationship with Kagami, she was just cheering him on.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I was scared. I had a feeling you loved someone else. So I just let it be. But today, something told me you needed to hear it. That I needed to stop denying everything.”

He squeezed her hand. “I wish you had told me sooner, but today was a great day to tell me.”

She blushed, but pulled him away from the door and out into the lightly sprinkling rain. “So what happened? Well, you don’t need to tell me about it, but if you want to—“

“I want to. I should just be telling a therapist, but...I don’t have one. Let me know if it gets to be too much. Okay?”

“Let me have it.”

“So...Kagami and I broke up.”

Marinette exhaled sadly, resting her head on his shoulder, since her hand was occupied.

“It wasn’t that bad, honestly,” he continued. “I knew that I didn’t love her, and I felt that—well I thought that I loved someone else. So I told her. She admitted that she hadn’t loved me in the first place. She cared about me, but she hadn’t realized that what she was feeling wasn’t love. It was just friendship. I felt better knowing I hadn’t broken her heart.”

Marinette steered them in an unfamiliar direction, off the beaten path. It was a winding alleyway that made little sense as steps ascended and turned corners. It was a narrow fit, one they had to take one at a time, before they reached the end.

It was a little garden. There were rose bushes in the corners, and a little fountain with a cherub. A wooden swing with an awning took up a corner, and welcomed anyone that could find the little haven.

“Wow...Marinette this is so cool. How did you find this place?”

She shrugged noncommittally and led him to the swing. “I have my ways.”

They settled, and she tucked the umbrella away. Then silence reigned for a little bit, only broken by the pattering of the rain and the creak of the swing.

“So?” Marinette finally asked. “If the break up was so mutual, what has you so upset?”

Adrien sighed, and leaned his head back. “My father’s reaction to the break up. He wasn’t...thrilled.”

“No offense to the man, but I didn’t think he cared about your love life.”

“He doesn’t. But he had some contract with her mom that I ruined, apparently. He wasted his time, he said.”

Marinette swallowed, watching as Adrien stared dead ahead at the fountain.

“I told him we broke up amicably. And that I did it because I didn’t love her.” He bit his lip and clenched his eyes shut. “‘How could you know what love is, when no one even loves you?’ That’s what he said, Marinette. My own father told me he and my mother, and everyone else...no one loved me. Kagami didn’t and neither does--'' he sobbed. “Until this morning, I thought I was completely unlovable. But you...you know what love is. Your family loves you. So if you say you do, I believe you.”

She waited for him to finish before enveloping him in the tightest hug she could manage. It was in an effort to squeeze the sadness right out of him. And it seemed to work, as the sobs came like a downpour. He dug his fingers into her, holding on for dear life.

So much sorrow. So much heartbreak. Marinette swore one day that Gabriel Agreste would pay. How could the man not love his son? Someone as spectacular as Adrien? Who couldn’t love him?

“Marinette!” Tikki’s voice cut through the emotional moment. She wouldn’t have spoken unless...

Marinette let go of Adrien and unfortunately pushed him away, then she scanned the garden hideaway.

There, just past the alley entrance, dodging raindrops and heading towards Adrien at full speed, was an Akuma.

“No! Not him!” Marinette clung to Adrien, this time with desperation and fear. She couldn’t fight him. She wouldn’t fight him. Even if she went back on her own rules, even if she ruined everything...

She kissed him. Right on the mouth. Even if he didn’t love her back, she wanted him to feel good. If she could distract him from his sorrow for just a moment, long enough for the akuma to leave.

A horrible chill rushed over her body, before she was pushed gently away by the shoulders.

He had succumbed.

He was all white. His hair, his skin, even his eyes had turned to porcelain. Cold and hard to the touch, but oh so fragile. The scarf around his neck turned into lacy wings that sprouted from his back.

“Adrien...” Marinette breathed his name.

“Lovelace now, I’m afraid.” But he was so gentle with her. He helped her to her feet, and touched her cheek with his stony hand. “Thank you for trying to help, Marinette. But I’ve accepted Hawkmoth’s help this time. He’s given me the power to make people love me.”

“Is it really love then?” She asked.

He frowned. “It’s better than them hating me. I’ll start with Ladybug first.”

She gasped, not expecting to be the first target. She would have expected him to want to get to his father.

“She’ll never love me otherwise. No matter how hard I tried, how I reasoned with her, how many chances I begged for, she will never ever love me!” A crack formed under his eye. “But I can make her. And once she loves me, she won’t need her miraculous. And then I can make all of Paris love me!”

“Adrien...this isn’t you. Please fight it!” She cried for him.

He wiped the tear away ever so gently. That gentleness that was so characteristic of him, but such a difference from where he was now. “Oh, poor sweet Marinette. There will be a place for you when the time comes. You, who loved me without powers. My gratitude is beyond measure. But for now, I suggest you go home and stay out of my way.” His voice took a hard edge at the end, that gave her goosebumps up her spine. She wouldn’t be able to help him as Marinette anymore. Now it was Ladybug’s turn.

“Okay...” she agreed, and hurried down the alley. Her heart broke with each step.

Finally, she had run far enough and away to a secluded place to transform.

“I’m ready, Marinette! Let’s save Adrien!”

But Marinette had gone back in time, earlier in the conversation. Something nagged at her.

“Marinette?”

“He said he was going after Ladybug first.”

“All akumas do.”

“But he said it was because I would never love him. No matter how many attempts he made. But Adrien never...” she choked, new tears coming to her eyes.

“Now I know what you might be thinking...” Tikki warned.

“Adrien is Chat Noir.”

“And...what’s the point of even trying to hide it?” Tikki muttered to herself.

“Oh my poor Chat...we’ll find a way!” She snapped her fingers. “And I have a plan! Tikki, spots on!”

—

Precious minutes later, Ladybug burst into Miss Bustier’s class. “Madam, I need to borrow Nino Lahiffe!”

Nino’s eyes went wide. “But I thought—“

“Special exception! Now move it!”

Nino leapt to his feet and followed her outside. Once they were away from prying eyes, she handed him the small compact that held his old bracelet.

“But Hawkmoth knows who I am.”

“It doesn’t matter this time. Your friend, Adrien Agreste has been akumatized.”

Nino looked like he had been shot. “Marinette, girl what did you do...?”

“On the contrary! Marinette tried very valiantly to keep him from turning. His power is to make people love him. I figured you loved him a lot already, so you’ll probably be immune to his powers.”

“Hey! That’s genius! The guy is like my brother. Of course I love him! And I’m going to kick his butt for thinking that no one does!” He put on the bracelet and called for the transformation.

“So I guess I’ll be your meat shield? Take the hits so you and Chat don’t go Gaga?”

“Chat is out with a family crisis.” Not a lie! “And...I will also probably be immune to his powers.”

Nino went wide-eyed. “Wait what?! Really?!”

“Shut up, and don’t tell anyone. Especially Alya.”

“Mums the word!”

“Good, now here’s the plan...”

—

Lovelace had garnered an army of adoring fans in the twenty minutes Ladybug had taken to get Nino.

The Akuma himself was sitting on a bench, and waited, while dozens of fans scurried about.

“I brought you water, Adrien!”

“Here, I have an umbrella, we can’t have you catching a cold, Adrien.”

“Let me dry off that bench for you, Adrien!”

“What can I do for you?”

“Would you like a shoulder rub?”

Adrien didn’t answer to his victims. He just watched them all with a quiet fascination.

This wasn’t as fulfilling as he had hoped for. Maybe it would be different with Ladybug and his father.

“There you are, dude!” Carapace called out to him. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Lovelace’s eyes widened and he raised a hand. “Carapace! You will fight for me now!”

Without even flinching, Carapace took the hit. It just tingled, but had no effect.

“Aw, come on man. Surely you know I already loved you? You’re my bro, dawg! But I am fighting for you. For your freedom from akumatization!”

Lovelace gaped in shock. “No! You’re supposed to do what I want!”

“Sometimes what you want and what you need aren’t the same thing. I am on your side, Adrien. That’s why I want to help you.”

Lovelace pointed to Carapace and told the crowd around him, “subdue him!”

The fans all dropped what they were doing and ran at Carapace.

Luckily, Ladybug caught him around the waist with her yo-yo and pulled him away.

“You were right, Bug. I’m immune!”

“Glad to hear it. Looks like these folks weren’t though.”

“Get Ladybug! Bring her to me!” Lovelace shouted, before firing at more people.

“We better wrap this up before things get out of control.”

The name of the game was subtlety. Carapace and Ladybug both knew she was immune, but Lovelace didn’t. He shot over and over, begging her to stand still.

“Just love me, Ladybug!”

Ladybug allowed herself a misstep, and for the beam to strike her.

“No!” Shouted Carapace.

Lovelace opened his arms, beckoning her forward. “Come to me, My Lady!”

Ladybug held her cheeks, eyes glittering like a rabid fangirl. “Adrien! Oh my sweet, handsome Adrien!” She skipped to him, twirling and giggling like a girl who was completely and totally smitten. “My love!” When she reached him, she took his hands in hers, and kissed his knuckles (so he couldn’t grab her earrings). “You’ve finally caught me, My Prince. I’m all yours!”

“My Lady...” Adrien breathed, another crack forming under his eye.

“Don’t be sad, my love! I’m here!” She leaned in, and kissed his porcelain lips.

One of these days, she was going to enjoy a kiss with Adrien, but it seemed like today was not that day.

He stood still, holding her waist and indulging her kiss.

It lasted only long enough for her to wrap her arms around his neck, and yank the scarf free.

“No!” Adrien shouted, as she danced away from him.

“Sorry Adrien, but this is for your own good!”

“You mean...you already...?”

She winked at him, before she ripped the scarf up, and allowed the Akuma to be freed.

After purifying, Adrien Agreste sat on the ground, bewildered, but only for a moment. It didn’t take long for his last memories to catch up to him and he put the pieces together.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so so sorry Ladybug! And Carapace!”

Nino hugged him, giving him a tight squeeze and then pulled away to hold his shoulders. “Dude, if you ever feel like no one loves you, you just come talk to me, and I’ll convince you otherwise. Got it?”

Ladybug picked up the now-repaired scarf and placed it securely around Adrien’s neck. Then she lifted him into her arms, like a princess. “Let’s go for a stroll, hmm?”

Adrien clung to her, shocked and embarrassed.

The three went to the alleyway Adrien was akumatized in, and Nino immediately detransformed, offering up his Miraculous. “Here you are, Ladybug. Thanks for giving me the chance to help my bro.”

“Thank you for your help!” She beamed.

“I got to get back to class. You gonna be okay, dude?”

“Uh yeah. Just...Marinette?”

“She’s safe, don’t worry.” Ladybug gave him a pat. “I’ll take you to her, if you’d like.”

“That'd be great. I should really talk to her...”

“Kay dudes, I’ll check you later!” Nino waved.

Then Adrien and Ladybug were alone.

“I’m really sorry again, Ladybug. I’m usually very level headed...at least I think I am.”

“Adrien,” she stopped him with a hand in his shoulder. “People get akumatized because they got the wrong topping on their sandwich. I’m really not judging you. You were...a walk in the park to fight.”

“Thats...that’s good, right? What did I do?”

“You made people love you. Kind of like...Befona, or Zombizu.”

“How did you beat me?”

She gestured to the swing, and sat down beside him. “Well, I knew I would be immune to your attack, so I pretended like I came under your spell...and I kissed you. When you were distracted, I took the scarf away.”

He blushed all shades of red. “Oh. Wait, you knew you would be immune? How?”

“Easy. I couldn’t love you anymore if I tried, Kitty.”

“Kitt—“ he choked. “You...you know.”

“Yeah. You told me. When you were freshly akumatized, you said you were going after Ladybug first, since she would ‘never love you’ no matter how hard you tried, or how many times you asked...Chat Noir is the only one who has asked me more than once.”

The dots were still a little too far apart in his mind. “And I didn’t fight you?”

“Spots off.”

Adrien watched in shock as the love of his life turned into his beloved friend who had tried so hard to heal his battered heart.

His eyes were wide and sparking with tears. Drops rolled down his cheeks, and he kept sniffing.

But he was smiling, oh so brightly.

“My Lady? You’re My Lady?” He whispered.

“Hi Chaton.” She smiled.

“You love me...” he whispered again, clenching his eyes shut as more tears came. “You love me, even if it’s just a part. Even if you don’t love Chat...” his eyebrows drew together. “But now it’s all ruined. Because you’re going to change your mind.”

“No!” She practically leapt on him, scrambling to sit in his lap and tucking under his chin.

Adrien gathered Marinette close, burying his nose in her hair, and letting his fingers play with the hem of her shirt.

“Adrien, finding out you’re Chat Noir is literally the best thing that could have ever happened. I adore Chat, and I turned down your advances because of you, Adrien. It hurt to keep telling you no. But you deserved to have someone love you with their whole heart.” She pulled back and sat up, so that she was face to face with him. She leaned in, and rested her forehead against his. “And that can be me now, if you’ll have me.”

“Marinette,” he sobbed. “You really love me?”

She covered his face in little kisses. “And I’m not the only one. Ask Plagg.”

As if on cue, Plagg emerged and stuck out his tongue at Adrien. “Yeah, Fartface. How dare you think no one loves you. No one is a bigger fan than me!”

“You’re a fan, and you’re calling me Fartface?” Adrien chuckled.

Plagg rubbed against his cheek, affectionately. “Only you.”

“And Nino and Alya love you. I’ve heard Nino call you his brother, and Alya doesn’t have nicknames for anybody else in the class.”

This seemed to brighten him as he smiled genuinely. “Yeah...you’re right.”

“And Chloe loves you. I’m sure if I called her and told her where we were, she’d be over in a second, and ready to crush you.”

He laughed. “Yeah, she would.”

“And my parents, and your fans, I bet your bodyguard loves you too.” She kissed his cheek, just because she could. “And I know your mom loved you. Your dad can try to retroactively say she didn’t, but she did. I bet that your father even loves you, but he was so angry, he just wanted to hurt you.”

“I don’t really care about his feelings anymore.” Adrien lamented. “I finally realized that all the effort I went through to please him and get his approval was a waste.”

“Well, he doesn’t deserve your effort. Give it to people who will cherish it.”

“Like you?”

She chuckled. “Yes Kitty. Like me. I’ll cherish every moment with you. I promise.”

“You’re going to make me cry again.”

“I won’t judge.”

He looked to her, shyly, very much aware of how close they were. “My Lady, can I—“

“Yes.” She interrupted.

“But I didn’t get to finish asking.”

“True. But you’ve had a lot of no’s lately. I wanted to say yes.”

“Okay...then, I’ll just...” he slowly closed his eyes and leaned in, fully prepared for her to push him away by the nose. ‘I didn’t mean that’ she would say.

But that didn’t happen. Instead, her mouth meshed with his, full and wanting. Her arms twined around his neck, and fingers dove into his hair, sending goosebumps down his spine.

She was delicious. Warm, inviting, soft, and oh so sexy. Her thin frame arched forward, doing everything to be close to him, and he drank it in.

His Lady. His love. His light.

He kissed her sweetly, and he kissed her hotly. Tender pecks, and raunchy open mouthed caresses. Their tongues met shyly, passing against each other with tentative grazes.

And then Adrien pulled away, his chest heaving from the rush of it all. The rush of kissing his lady.

“Wow,” he whispered.

“Wow indeed,” she smirked back. She pressed a kiss to his lips, perfectly delicate in contrast to the passion of seconds ago. “You’re amazing.”

He grasped her shoulders. “I’m amazing?! You’re amazing! I love you! You’re the most perfect girl in the world!”

“I thought I was trying to hype you up?” She giggled.

“I can’t help it. Every minute I’m with you, I’m enchanted.”

“Cheesy, but I love you anyways.” She kissed him. “And I might have a hard time stopping kissing you, now that I know how wonderful it is.”

“Then we can kiss whenever you want. Before school, during class, on patrol, instead of a fistbump.”

“Yes to all,” she giggled. “I want everyone to see how loved you are.”

He leaned against her chest with a content sigh. “Thank you Marinette. I was so devastated. I didn’t know what I was going to do. I had already fought off several Akuma last night. I thought Hawkmoth had given up, but...I couldn’t bear to hurt you.”

“You didn’t. Honest.” She smooched him.

He leaned back on the swing, his hand brushing a paper bag. “Our pastries!”

“See! The day is saved!”

—

An hour of dancing and kissing in the rain later, two soaked teens wound up at Marinette’s house to change, and then back to school for the second half of the day.

Nino greeted him with a big hug, and so did Alya.

“I’m glad to see you’re feeling happier, Adrien,” Said Miss Bustier. “Now I think you owe Lila an apology.”

He suppressed an eye roll. “I’m sorry for yelling at you, Lila.”

“And for hitting me?” She egged on.

“No...I’m pretty sure I just yelled at you.” He frowned.

Marinette placed a hand on his arm, and it was just enough of a push. He straightened his spine and glared at her. “And I’m pretty sure you deserved it, after you came down and antagonized me. What was it you said? ‘Your father wishes I was his child instead of a sensitive little baby like you’? ‘At least I get stuff done’? You know what, I’m not sorry for yelling at you.” This felt good. Way way too good to just vent. No one interrupted, so he just kept going. “And you know what? I don’t care if you try to manipulate everyone else here and try to turn them on me like you turned them on Marinette! I know I’m loved, and I don’t need the approval of every person I meet. I’m not going to try to please everyone anymore. Especially you, Lila. You are a waste of effort, just like my father. And if he wants a brat liar like you for a kid, then he can adopt you. That’s fine with me! The minute I turn 18, I’m getting married and becoming Mr. Dupain-Cheng! And since you’re so chummy with my father that he told you about our private conversation, then you can tell him all about this too!”

The class just stared in stunned silence, looking between Lila and Adrien, genuinely confused.

“Kitty?” Marinette whispered, touching his back.

“Wow that felt good. I feel empowered! Come here, you!”

The stunned silence of the classroom was quickly replaced with cheers, as Adrien pulled his new girlfriend up and into his arms, as they kissed like they had been apart for weeks.

—

Gabriel Agreste would receive a phone call later that afternoon, from Lila Rossi.

“Mr. Agreste, you will not believe what your son said to me today!”

“I don’t want to hear it.” He hung up.

The last thing he wanted to think about was his son. Adrien’s akumatization, which was going to be his greatest masterpiece yet, had been a complete and utter failure. Chat Noir never showed up, and Ladybug didn’t even need a lucky charm. All Hawkmoth got out of it was the worst experience of second hand tonsil hockey between two teenagers. Twice.

Well. Adrien certainly knew what love was now. Gabriel took the folder that held all the designs and plans for this Akuma...and promptly shredded it.

So, this story is a one shot, and technically complete, though I do want to turn it into a comic in the future. It will be a slow process, but I’ll tag it as Lovelace!

#ml #miraculous ladybug #adrienette #fanfiction #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #lovelace #identity reveal #ladybug #chat noir

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stillebesat · 4 years ago

Text

Moonshot

Sanders Sides: Logan, Patton Blurb: Was it too much for Logan to ask to have just one date not revolve around sports talk? Fic Type: Soulmate AU Overall Fic Warnings: None Taglist in Reblog

The polite smile Logan had been wearing for the past two hours slipped off his face as soon as he turned his back to the black camero waiting on the sidewalk.

Every time.

It took all his self-will to unlock his door and move inside without slamming said door shut on that--that--

He gritted his teeth, glaring at his stupid soulmark of a baseball with blue stitching on the back of his hand. “I despise you,” He whispered. Had despised it since the mark had appeared on his thirteenth birthday.

Logan shoved his fist under his arm, stalking away from the door.

Every time.

No matter how many times he told people what type of people he was interested in dating, in having as a soulmate, his wants and needs all seemed to drain out of their fluff-filled scheming heads as soon as they saw the stupid baseball on his hand.

Because the baseball obviously had to mean that his soulmate would be a jock.

After all, your soulmate’s mark would pair with yours when you touched for the first time. Appearing on your skin to complete each other and show that you were finally whole. A key to its lock, a lightning bolt to a cloud, a pen to paper, or in Logan’s case an individual with a bat or mitt would match with him and his infernal baseball.

It didn’t matter that Logan hated sports.

It didn’t matter that a soulmark didn’t always indicate a ‘type’ of person to be on the lookout for.

It didn’t matter that he’d figured out by his senior year of highschool that the sports type wasn’t his type at all.

No. As soon as someone saw the baseball, any thought or consideration to the type of person Logan was actually interested in flew right out the figurative door.

Time and time again it was the same old story. The same type of guy. The same droll dates filled with endless sports talk before the dreaded moment when his date would reach out and touch him to see if their soulmarks would appear on each other’s skin...only to have nothing happen.

He was sick of it.

Logan threw open the door to his bedroom and grabbed the overflowing duffle bag of baseball gag gifts he'd been given for practically every occasion for the last eight years and ducked outside onto his balcony.

The balcony overlooking the darkened practice baseball fields because where else should Logan end up after the student housing administrator noticed the baseball on his hand? It was fate.

Logan dropped the bag with a thunk, grabbing the first ball his fingers touched and squared up like a pitcher on the mound.

It wasn't like he wasn't familiar with the position. His parents had fully subscribed to the idea of Logan’s soulmate being into sports and had forced him to play the game throughout all of high school in the hopes that he would meet his other half there.

Just because his parents’ soulmarks of a shovel and a pickax had matched with their shared interest and subsequent careers in Archaeology didn’t mean his mark would be the same.

Letting out a breath, Logan focused all his frustration and anger into the ball before sending it flying out into the middle of the field, not even waiting for it to land before he grabbed another.

He hated it.

Hated this.

Baseball this.

Sports that.

Practice. Practice. Practice.

Well he was practicing now!

Logan’s lips drew back in a silent snarl as he threw ball after ball after ball like one of those stupid pitching machines.

Just once. He would like to go on a date that didn’t involve any sports talk whatsoever. A date where Logan could talk about his interest in marine biology, in space, in his attempts to write a murder mystery--yes the character that dies a violent death was a baseball player, so sue him. He had to vent his bitterness about his mark somewhere--but a date. A real actual date that had--had--

“AHHHHH!!!!!!!” Logan screamed, flinging the last baseball in his stash out into the darkness before he slumped over the railing burying his head in his arms, ignoring how his glasses dug into the bridge of his nose.

It was pointless.

He’d have to move to Antarctica to escape the never ending line of sport related dates and it would just be his luck that the penguins would end up gaining sentience while he was studying their migratory behavior and their first sentence would be to ask him his opinion on the likelihood of the Marlins making it to the World Series this year.

“You know--”

Logan jerked his head up at the unfamiliar voice coming from below and despite his misgivings for further human interaction tonight, peered over the railing to see a guy wearing the exact same type of frames as him standing in the light cast from the balcony below Logan’s apartment, with a bat in hand.

Great. A player. His luck was definitely not in tonight.

The figure offered a wide smile, holding up one of Logan’s balls. “Until I heard you scream, kiddo, I’d begun to think it was the sky raining baseballs down on my head.” He gestured to the darkened field. “Made for quite the interesting practice for sure, not knowing where the next one would show up.”

Kiddo? They had to be of similar age! Logan exhaled, pushing his glasses back up as he straightened. He could hold it together long enough to apologize to the guy at least.

“Apologies...I didn’t think anyone was out there--” Hopefully he hadn’t hit him. Logan had been throwing the balls quite forcefully. He cleared his throat. “Why were you playing in the dark?”

The boy shrugged, tapping the bat against his shoe. “Moon’s bright enough to see. It’s nice to just...not have anyone watching you practice, you know?”

“No.” But perhaps that was because Logan had only practiced when forced to.

“Oh well,” The boy bounced the ball in his hand. “I’m not much of a catcher, but--” He threw the ball up in the air and with a swing of his bat, sent it flying straight into Logan’s hands. “I can return your balls to you this way if you want--”

He’d very much rather go burn them all in a dumpster. Logan turned the ball over in his fingers, the leather surface warm from being in the batter’s hand. “Or?”

“Or?” The boy glanced to the field, chewing on his bottom lip. “Or...uhmm...well you can come down and help me? Or I can gather them all and bring them up to you!” He said flashing Logan another smile. “I just need like a garbage bag or something to put them all in?”

Ha. Logan’s lips twitched. No way was he inviting a stranger up here. Which meant--He exhaled, dropping the baseball back down to the boy’s feet. “You can keep some if you want. I’d rather not have the reminder.”

Unfortunately, Logan had known that he couldn’t just...leave them all there for someone else to find and take. Not when most of them had his name on them. Which meant, even without this guy’s interference, he’d have to go gather all the balls back up anyways.

A pity. It had been good while it lasted, to think he��d never have to see them again.

The boy laughed, throwing the bat over his shoulders. “Ah, kiddo, you and me both.”

Logan blinked. “Both?” He echoed, leaning on the railing.

“Not exactly fond of the sport myself. But yah know.” He raised the back of his hand to Logan, a blue and black baseball mitt shining in stark relief on his skin under the light from the balcony below. “Soulmarks right?”

Instinctively Logan moved to cover his own mark. “Right.” He whispered, not quite believing what he was hearing. Someone else...hated--no perhaps that was too strong of a word--didn’t like their soulmark?

He’d thought he was the only one.

Logan cleared his throat. “You don’t--?”

“Nah.” The boy shook his head, running his hand down the bat. “Like I said. I’m not much of a catcher. Broken my glasses more times than I can count because people see the mitt and assume if they throw something at me I’ll be able to catch it.”

Logan winced. And he’d thought he’d had it rough. “I’m...sorry.”

“Meh.” The boy waved his hand dismissively. “I’m used to it.” He cleared his throat, nudging the baseball with his shoe. “Anyways--I--uh still need a bag or something for--”

Right. The baseballs. The whole reason why they were having this conversation in the first place. Logan exhaled, grabbing the now empty duffle bag and pulling the strap over his shoulder. “One moment, I’ll be right down.”

“Oh, you don’t--you can just toss--”

Like he would make anyone clean up his own mess when he was quite capable himself. Logan grabbed the railing and swung himself over, pausing long enough to gauge the distance to the ground nine feet below him before he jumped, landing lightly on his feet. He raised an eyebrow at the batter’s flabbergasted expression as he straightened. “What?”

The guy blinked, mouth open. “I--uh--” He cleared his throat, ducking his head as he fidgeted with his glasses. “That was really cool.” He mumbled. “Like from a spy movie.”

Logan scoffed, ignoring how he could feel his cheeks warming. “It was the quickest way down to you.” He said, scooping up the first baseball and shoving it into his bag before he strode off towards the darkened field. The sooner he gathered them all up, the quicker he could return to sulking in his room.

A faint “Right,” sounded behind him before the other guy caught up, fidgeting with the baseball bat.

“I’m Patton by the way.” He said after a moment, shooting Logan a smile, his glasses reflecting in the moonlight.

Introductions. Bah. He’d much rather have preferred remaining complete strangers. “Logan.”

“Logan.” Patton repeated softly. “Do you go by Lo?”

Lo? Logan frowned, ignoring how--how warm he felt now after hearing Patton say his name. He cleared his throat, adjusting the strap of his duffle bag on his shoulder. Why would anyone want to shorten his name any further? “No?”

“Oh.” Patton moved ahead of him to open the chain link gate in the fence. “Well I Lo-key think your name is really cool, Logan!” He said, gesturing him inside with his bat.

Low-key? “Ah...your name is...nice too...Patton.” He said awkwardly, pausing just inside the fence to let him shut the gate. “I haven’t heard it before.” Well he had, just not as a name. People patented inventions all the time afterall.

“Thanks!” Patton bounded past him like an excited puppy, already heading for the cluster of baseballs shining under the moonlight. “My parents were trying to play off of the--uh--” He tilted his head, chewing on his lower lip as he dropped the first handful of balls into Logan’s bag. “That one philosophy from that one guy...Arisomething? Pathos, Ethos, Logos--hey!” He pointed the bat to Logan, bouncing on his toes. “You’d be a really good representation for Logos with your name Logan! But yah. I’m named after Pathos?”

Huh. That was...different. He was pretty sure his Dad had named him after some stupid superhero or something. Logan shook his head, stooping down to grab his own couple of baseballs from the field. “So you have two siblings then?”

“Ah...no, actually.” Patton half jogged over to drop a handful of baseballs into the duffle. He shrugged, running a hand through his hair. “Mom got cancer--she’s okay! But she...she couldn’t have kids anymore after everything.”

“...Oh.”

“Yah...what about you? Any siblings?”

Logan exhaled, making a mental note to move faster in collecting his baseballs. Small talk. How had he gotten himself into small talk? Though he supposed he should be grateful it wasn’t sports talk. Few of his dates ever asked about his family beyond what teams they supported. Not that this was a date. But still. “Twin sisters, younger.”

Patton nodded. “Nice! Mom mentioned once if she had had a daughter she would have named her Athena...keeping with Ethos I guess? Is it nice to have younger sisters? I know the movie tropes make them annoying…”

Logan snorted, shaking his head as he bent down to grab another ball. “They’ve mellowed out the past couple of years...well beyond being hellbent on finding me my soulmate while they travel with my parents.” He hunched his shoulders. At least tonight’s date hadn’t been their fault. “They’ve become rather infatuated with the idea of true love after spending the summer in France.”

Patton chuckled, shaking his head. “Sounds like my best friend, Roman. He’s spent the past couple of summers traveling around Europe hoping to meet his soulmate in one of those old castles. I’m not sure why he’s convinced they’re gonna be over there. Baseball isn’t as popular over there as it is here in the States.”

Logan pulled up short, blinking. “Your friend Roman has a baseball mark too?”

“Hmm? Oh yah! Well, not of a baseball, his is a bat though Roman’s quite set on the fact that it’s a club, you know the weapon? Which maybe that’s why he keeps haring off to Europe, but there’s a few of us that have met up here on campus with baseball related marks---”

“And none of you are soulmates to each other?” Sure, it shouldn’t be surprising. Hadn’t he gone on dozens of dates with people who had related marks but didn’t match up?

Patton ducked his head, tapping the tip of his bat against his shoe. “Well...ummm….we don’t...know? It’s not a thing?”

“Not a thing.” Logan repeated, faintly. How could it not be a thing?! It seemed like his whole life had revolved around the concept of matching up ever since his mark first formed. It was the first thing people looked at when he talked to them, people hardly wanted to interact with him unless they thought their marks could match up and Patton was saying-- “You haven’t tried to match with any of them?”

Patton shrugged, turning to grab another baseball, rolling it back and forth in his palm as he fidgeted. “Like...I--I could...I want to, but most of us don’t like our marks, I think Remus may be the only one? His is this neon green foam finger that he’s super proud of. It’s just...we all just want to be friends first.” He said, stressing the word. “If we match then we’ll match when the time is right, but we just...we all wanted a safe space to be ourselves in college and not have to worry about soulmarks on top of classes and finals and such.”

“Oh.” Logan lowered his duffle bag to the ground. “That sounds...nice.” He brushed the mark on his wrist. To not have to worry about being a potential soulmate to the person he was talking to. To not have to have every conversation revolve around the sport.

Patton nodded, his face in shadow as he placed the last baseball into Logan’s bag. “It is.” He looked up, the light from the moon catching on his glasses, as he pushed them back up his nose. “You ah...we’re all meeting up tomorrow at noon for lunch at that new Bubba Gump Cafe just off campus...if you want to come...check it out? Meet everyone?”

A safe place. To just be himself. To talk to people and not worry about if any of them matched. “I--” Logan took a steadying breath, giving Patton a small smile. “If you don’t mind me...tagging along...I’d really like that.”

#Moonshot #stillebesat #Sanders Sides #Soulmate AU #Logan #Patton #Logic #Morality #September Soulmates

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hale-13 · 4 years ago

Text

Zero Days Without Incident

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 20 Prompt - Defiance

The ‘Days Without Incident’ sign in Tony Stark’s private workshop has nothing to do with engineering or science mishaps and all to do with a bet between him and a certain Spiderling.

Words: 1783, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Happy Hogan

TW: Stabbing

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

“Peter you have thirty minutes until your curfew,” Karen warned him, already plotting a course home and throwing it up on his HUD.

It was a balmy spring evening and Peter had spent most of his patrol leisurely swinging through Queens or relaxing on a hammock made from his webs. There had been a few petty crimes he had dealt with, some grand theft bicycle, a cat stuck in a tree but, all in all, he couldn’t really complain. He loved being Spider-Man and helping his neighborhood but it was nice to have a slow day sometimes.

A scream sounded in the distance.

“Spoke too soon,” he mumbled, altering his course and picking up speed. “Can you get me directions K?”

“Of course Peter,” Karen answered, as chirpy and happy as normal, re-routing him away from his apartment and toward the sounds of discourse in the distance. When he dropped in on the scene it seemed to be a mugging in progress and Peter rolled his eyes – didn’t people have anything better to do on a random Tuesday in April? God just seriously rethink your life choices.

“I would say its knife to meet you but I’ve definitely used that pun in the last couple weeks and I don’t want to be accused of not being original,” Peter called down, making both the assailant and victim flinch and look up to where he was perched on the wall above them. “Where did even get that thing? The renaissance fair? Who robs people with a full on dagger anyway? Run out of kitchen knives?” Peter quipped, flipping down and pushing the mugger away with a well placed kick to the arm that made the man stumble back.

“This has nothing to do with you bug,” the man snarled, brandishing the weapon at Peter now and making him roll his eyes. “Don’t get in my way and I won’t have to use this on ya.”

“Spiders are arachnids actually, not bugs” Peter pointed out, shooing the stunned woman out of the alley and on her way out of any potential danger. “And how about you not stab anybody today huh? If you promise to behave I won’t web you to the wall and call the police. Sounds like a fair trade right?”

The man snarled at him with irritation. “You talk too much.”

“So I’ve been told,” Peter agreed easily with a nod. “But what do you say? Ready to give up your life of crime for the straight and narrow?”

“No,” the man grumbled and, with literally no warning, lunged forward and stabbed his knife directly into Peter’s gut.

They both stared at each other in stunned silence before Peter processed the pain with a loud ‘fuck!’.

“You motherfucker,” Peter grunted, backing away to lean against the wall, holding the knife still with one hand so as to not dislodge it. “I can’t believe you stabbed me!”

“I thought you would dodge! You always dodge!” The man said, reaching up both hands to dig into his hair. “I stabbed Spider-Man what the fuck!”

“God this is just-,” Peter grumbled using his free arm to fire webbing at the guy and secure him to the nearby dumpster. “I’ve gone three weeks without having to go to the MedBay! Three weeks! All I had to do was last one more and then I got to pick the movie at movie night for the next month! God I can’t believe it! Mr. Stark is going to be so insufferable now!”

“You could just… not tell him?” The man asked hopefully, not even bothering to struggle against the webs and Peter blew out a breath as he sank down to sit on the gritty ground – he was starting to feel a little cold and dizzy from either the blood loss or shock, he couldn’t tell which. Not that it mattered, his fierce anger overshadowed everything.

“Not an option,” Peter grunted, leaning his head back and closing his eyes against the helpful countdown timer Karen had started displaying the second Tony had entered the Iron Man armor and started jetting to him. “He already knows.” Curse the Baby-monitor Protocol! He and Ned would need to remove it again…

“He track you or something?” The man asked questioningly, head quirked to the side in obvious curiosity.

“Or something,” Peter agreed.

“That’s wack man,” he said. “An invasion of privacy. A, uh… violation of your constitutional rights as a free American!”

“Do you honestly think Tony Stark cares about an something as simple as an invasion of privacy? I’m lucky he hasn’t microchipped me yet,” Peter pointed out. Or, at least, he didn’t think Tony had microchipped him. He’d have to check that and remove it post haste if he found something.

“Dude,” knife guy said commiserating and Peter had to fight the eye roll. Of course the person who stabbed him felt remorseful now.

“I know,” Peter agreed, peering down at his side to look at where the knife was embedded into him. He was pretty good around blood as long as it wasn’t his own and, looking at the way his suit was slick and blood was beginning to pool under his thighs in a puddle made Peter lightheaded so he closed his eyes again. “He’s probably going to be pretty pissed at you by the way,” Peter warned. “He has pretty good lawyers so I wouldn’t have high hopes of getting out of this without jail time.”

The man groaned and Peter just shrugged. Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time and all that – also don’t stab people and leave them to the ministrations of their helicopter mentors. Same thing really. The sound of repulsers neared and Peter braced himself – he wasn’t looking forward to dealing with this.

“I guess that we can change the ‘Days Without Incident’ sign back to zero eh Spiderling?” Tony teased as he landed in the mouth of the alley, disengaging his suit and walking over to kneel next to Peter. “You were doing so good too – your longest streak ever in fact.”

“Don’t remind me,” Peter hissed as Tony prodded around the wound carefully with a pre-gloved hand. “Can you not touch that?”

“No can do buddy,” Tony said, not sounding the least bit apologetic. “Gotta anchor it in so it doesn’t fall out on the ride back. Happy’s on his way to pick us up.”

“Oh great,” Peter groused, letting Tony lean him forward a little so he could start wrapping roll gauze around the knife. “He loves to complain when I get blood on the seats.”

“Only when you get impaled,” Tony said brightly, pulling the gauze tight almost vindictively and making Peter wince. “Wouldn’t want to deprive him now would we?”

“You could just let me bleed out and die here,” Peter suggested seriously. “Since my life is basically over now anyway.

“You’re such a dramatic little shit,” Tony groused, tying off the gauze and levering Peter up off the ground to slump into his side for the extra support. “Now say ‘goodbye’ to your friend, he won’t be seeing the real world for a long, long time,” Tony’s voice had an edge of steel as he said this, dragging Peter to the end of the alley and ignoring the muggers ‘Aw man, c’mon!” as they passed. Peter just shrugged a ‘what can you do?” and wiggled his fingers in a facsimile of a wave as he was pulled away.

Happy, to his credit, was efficient and must have already been in the area because he was quick to pull up with a surly look already cemented onto his face as he surveyed where Peter was leaning into Tony and dribbling blood onto the sidewalk in large, heavy droplets. “I already called the cleaning crew,” he told them through the open window. “They’ll be here before the police to scrub up any possible radioactive DNA.”

“Best forehead of security ever,” Tony crooned lovingly as he carefully situated Peter onto the pile of towels Happy had put into the backseat to soak up the blood and keep it off his leather seats. Happy glared at the both of them in the rearview mirror before rolling up the partition. Tony snorted in undisguised mirth.

“How you feeling kiddie?” He asked as he peeled Peter’s mask from his sweaty face. “Not going to pass out on me again right?”

“Uh…” Peter groaned, squeezing his eyes shut tight to stop the spinning and grey dots that were clouding his vision. “No promises. Sorry.” Tony just let out a put upon sigh like he expected as much and pushed Peter to lay down across the seats, grabbing one of the extra towels to press tightly around the knife and making Peter let out a whining moan at the pressure. “Yeah I might pass out,” he said faintly as his vision started to tunnel.

“Go on then,” Tony said, running a hand through Peter’s damp curls and smoothing them away from his face. “At least you don’t sass me when you’re unconscious.” Peter felt the man lift his legs to slid a few wadded up towels underneath… like that would actually help keep him awake.

“Rude,” Peter grumbled before losing his grip on reality – he trusted Tony to take care of things for now.

——————————————

“I hate this movie,” Peter grumbled groggily, as he pulled himself awake some time later. He was lying in one of the beds in the MedBay, attached to a blood transfusion and with a thick padding of gauze on his abdomen. Tony, seated next to him and munching on popcorn, just sent him a shit eating grin and held up the whiteboard that had been hanging in his workshop displaying ‘Days Without Incident’ with a large 0 written under it in obnoxious red ink.

“This is such bullshit,” Peter said petulantly, picking at the tape holding the IV in place. “I can’t escape! Go watch your garbage movie somewhere else.”

“Excuse me you brat,” Tony said imperiously. “The Breakfast Club is a cult classic thank you very much and besides,” he continued, offering Peter the bowl of popcorn, “someone clearly has to educate you on good movies.”

“I’m going back to sleep,” Peter said, flicking a kernel of popcorn playfully at his mentor (and missing damn – he must be on drugs) and letting his tired eyes slip closed again.

“Sore loser,” he heard Tony tease as he fell asleep and that did it. When he won their next bet they were marathoning the whole Star Wars series from beginning to end, including all of the Clone Wars and the Mandalorian, and he didn’t care what Mr. Stark said.

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump20 #Prompt: Defiance #irondad #spider man #Summer of Whump 2021

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chaifootsteps · 3 years ago

Note

Can we hear more about the Ghoulunicats AU?

*KISSES YOU SQUARE ON THE MOUTH*.

OKAY. GHOULUNICATS AU.

GhouLunicats is the story of Victor, a Norwegian Forest cat who lives with his wealthy family circa the 1920s. He's about eight years old, about 10 pounds overweight, and spends his days eating fish out of a little dish with his name out of it, then retiring to a pillow that also has his name on it. When he's not doing this, he's protecting the house against the possibility of mice and laboring under the delusion that Drusilla, the gorgeous black cat next door, is madly in love with him. He's never been beyond his yard unless carried there.

Victor’s got a grand total of two friends -- one in the form of Crooked Cat, who belongs to a friend of his owners, and one in the form of the Old Possum, a grotty old opossum who eats out of his family’s rich person garbage cans and brings him news from the neighborhood. Victor cannot for the life of himself imagine any other existence but this, nor does he want to.

Then, one night, his peaceful existence is ruined by the smell of a new cat on the wind. A young tom. A young tom in his yard, where tomcats are very much forbidden from being, absolutely disallowed.

Victor calls out to shoo him away. Stranger responds by rubbing up against his special things.

The Old Possum laughs the next night, amused that Victor’s met the nameless -- and almost completely furless -- stray known only as the Crypt Cat. Victor sees nothing funny about it and spends the next several weeks locked in a nighttime back-and-forth with this reedy-voiced intruder, trading vicious insults with the glow of his eyes and his thin little body silhouetted against the gloom. For a while, he’s horrified to think this might be his new normal, his life forever.

Worse, what if his owners find out? What if they blame Victor for not protecting the yard?

Until finally, Crypt Cat makes the mistake of getting too close. Of sidling right up to the house, putting his ugly little whiskers right in Victor’s family’s trash cans. Face-to-face with the cat who’s been tormenting his every waking thought, and the discovery that he looks less like a cat than a rat with a short face, Victor attacks the window like a cat possessed.

The screen window falls out beneath him.

The two crash to the ground together, and as he struggles to his legs, Victor decides he’s about to do something aggressively uncouth. Snarling, bristling, spitting, he chases Crypt Cat off into the night, never thinking twice when they cross the boundary of his yard.

He doesn’t know it then, but it’s a decision that ends up changing both of their lives forever.

#Anonymous #Vault Keeper #Crypt Keeper #Cryptkeeper #Tales from the Crypt #GhouLunicats #actual blog post

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katsukis-sad-angel · 4 years ago

Text

Based on a True Story

Summary: there's this boy who makes you super uncomfy and doesnt take a hit, but you're to sweet to tell him to back off. Katsuki Bakugou, the more blunt end of the friendship, is happy to tell him off and free you from that sorry bastard.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader

Warnings: possible tw, a lot of swearing and some pretty colorful insults, there are guys that are really fucking creepy, based on the actual events of February 7th, 2021 at around 10:30 pm

A/N: this was very very rushed, I just wanted to write myself some comfort real quick and go to bed last night and I didn't have time to properly edit! I'm really proud of some of the banter lmao, please enjoy and never be afraid to punt a ballsack! I'll add tags later🙄🙄🙄

A message popped up on your screen and your once neutral expression went sour. Slamming the face of your phone onto your pillow, you groaned angrily into your bedspread, catching the attention of a certain ash blonde sitting in your comfy desk chair a few feet away. Katsuki Bakugou, one of your best friends, gave a questioning glance but refused to meet his ember gaze

“What’s your deal?” He asked, not letting his genuine curiosity as to why there was such a pained look on your face, show.

You opened your mouth but paused.

Katsuki already knew about this boy and scolded you every time he saw his name pop up in your notifications, telling you to ‘fucking block him already’ for the umpteenth time. It wasn’t like you had feelings for the guy anymore, you were just too nice and polite to cut him off completely and tell him to go fuck himself.

The ash-blonde had already volunteered to do it for you, but you always said no because you knew he’d just find another way to contact you.

“It’s that piss baby again isn’t it?”

“Yeah…”

“Wow, did you just agree with one of my insults?”

“Suki, I’m about to take you up on your offer to tell him to go fuck himself.”

He snickered, “Now you’re talking sense. What the hell is that pansy bitching about now?”

You sigh and roll over on your back and Katsuki moves to sit on the edge of your bed.

“I cut him off for a while, I really did! It felt so good to be free of him, but then he got my number again and started bothering me a few days ago. I saw him at school yesterday and told him I wasn’t interested in dating at all and he was like whatever so I honestly thought he could keep it in his pants and we could just be friends but nooo! He calls me a simp for anime guys, I tell him to stop being a hypocrite because he used to simp for me and he was like “I still do. You’re the only one” yeah like I’m stupid enough to actually believe that!”

You paused to catch your breath, but before you could start speaking again Katsuki interjected, “Well, you are stupid…”

You socked him in the bicep and he hunched over laughing. You looked so fucking adorable when you got royally pissed at him.

“Oh go to hell.” You snapped, crossing your arms and continuing, “Anyway, this guy used to simp for my goddamn sister! Not only do I reject being a replacement for her, but if she rejected his sorry ass, that means he’s a huge piece of shit because she’s super picky.”

“I might’ve mentioned that once or twice-”

You punched him again to shut him up. “Plus he’s super creepy and gross and it always feels like he’s undressing me with his eyes and whenever he’s around I want to dive into a pool full of only chlorine and drink it. I’m just trying to coexist and just be nice to him but apparently, a female looking in his general direction means that they want dicked down by his micropenis. He’s so fucking dense too. Why can’t he see that I’m not interested, especially after I EXPLICITLY told him that?!”

By that point, you were on the verge of frustrated tears, bottom lip trembling just slightly with bottled up emotion.

Katsuki could see it.

You felt trapped in something you never signed up for and you’d do anything to get out. All of this frustration had been stored inside of you for so long and it just kept mounting and multiplying until you burst into tears.

“Goddammit, come here dumbass,” He growled, gathering you into a warm embrace, “You can’t keep all this bs inside okay?”

He let you sob into his shoulder, one calloused hand supporting the base of your neck and the other crossed firmly over your back so you’d feel safe and secure; away from the world full of horrible people and into a small one of just your best friend’s warmth and the sweet sweet scent of caramel.

“Why don’t you listen to me? You’re just too fucking nice to every shitty dickhead that sees you as an easy, fuckable target. Something really fucking bad is gonna happen to you if you don’t shape up and learn how to punt a dude’s excuse for a ballsack and tell him what you really think.”

You raised your head from the solace of his shoulder to look at him with big, reproachful doe eyes and whimpered, “I tried that!”

“Have you tried punting their fucking balls first?”

“No… that would hurt.”

“That’s the point.”

“But if I did it without reason I could get suspended or charged with aggravated assault!”

It was Katsuki’s turn to sigh.

“That’s not the point dumbass, the point is that you need to tell these bastards off when they start getting creepy. You know what? Why don’t you just fucking ignore their sorry asses in the first place!”

You sniffle and drag a hand over your cheek to dry your tears, then resume your position with your face in the crook of your best friend’s neck.

“I feel bad for them.”

“Well stop. I’m gonna call him now alright? After that, we’ll block his stupid ass on every fucking app, you hear me?”

You nod and hug him tighter as he leans forward to grab your phone and opens it with your passcode, swiftly finding his name in your contact list and pressing the call icon, then he tapped the speaker button and waited.

The call was picked up almost immediately and a voice on the other line said, “Hey cutie! I was just about to call and ask to see if you wanted to come over on-”

“She’s not here.” Katsuki cut him off with a dry snarl, “And last time I checked she wasn’t interested enough in your sorry ass for you to be calling her ‘cutie.’”

You could almost hear his lip curl in utter disgust.

“Who the fuck are you?” The voice asked, dropping its sickeningly sweet tone to something more appropriate in light of the previous insult.

“I’m her fucking boyfriend you dickwad-” You popped up from your haven in surprise, mouth open to sputter in protest but he put a finger to your lips and smirked, “who the fuck are you?”

“No fucking way that whore has a boyfriend-”

“Ex-fucking-scuse me? Shut your mouth, you mother fucking pussy, insult her one more time and I’ll fuck you up so bad you won’t be recognizable by the time you get to the hospital.” He snapped back, “She’s crying right now because you’re too dense to realize she doesn’t want any business with some horse-faced piss baby like you. Take the hint right fucking now you useless bastard so you don’t make the mistake of coming near her again because I. Will. Kill. You. Delete this number because she’s too sweet to block you herself, but I will.”

“Fuck man, I was just tryna get laid. She’s the one who started rubbing herself all over me-”

“I said delete this number. Damn, you are a dense piece of shit aren’t you?”

“Hey, I-”

Katsuki pressed ‘end call’ and blocked his contact, moving from Instagram to Snapchat, to any social app you had, and blocked him left and right until he was satisfied.

“Feel better?” He asked softly, tossing your phone aside and peeling you off.

You carded a shaky hand through your hair and wiped your eyes, giving him a watery smile and a nod.

“Why did you tell him that we were in a relationship?” You asked, voice on the edge of a taunt.

“To make him mad.”

“I mean, it worked, but is that the only reason?” You giggled.

“The hell are you insinuating?”

“Do you… possibly by chance… have feelings for me?”

You batted your eyes at him and he retched, but the smirk was still present on his handsome features.

“What’s it to you?”

You squirm a bit, but something pops into your head so you can stall a bit longer.

“I mean, you’re not THAT ugly-”

He responded with a simple, harsh flick to the forehead to make you whine and try to whack him, but he easily intercepted your fist and pushed you on your back, caging you in nothing short of a horizontal kabedon.

It was your turn to smirk, “Yenno ‘Suki, I could very easily… oh what was your phrasing? ‘Punt your fucking balls’ in this position…”

“Just shut up and tell me what the hell you want.” Katsuki snapped.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.” You prod.

“You look like a pissed hamster when you’re mad.” He shot back.

“You smell like a fucking candy store after training.”

“You’re the dictionary definition of a dumbass.”

“You have a better hourglass figure than Yaomomo.”

“You're quickly becoming an extra.”

“Date me.”

“Fine.”

“Wait really?”

“It’s the only way I can kiss you, protect you, and keep you all to myself.” He shrugged, leaning in dangerously close, “You don’t fucking understand how hard it is to watch you prancing around with one failed abortion after another and watching you cry because they leave since you don’t want the one thing they’re after.”

“You’ve always been there for me ‘Suki… I guess I just took you for granted, and I’m really sorry.” You met his soft vermillion gaze with a meaningful and apologetic one and reached out to squeeze his hand.

“‘S okay. You’re mine now, right?”

You nod, smiling.

“So it doesn’t matter how dense you are anymore.” He smirked, laying down on your bed and dragging you down with him so you were tucked comfortably under his chin.

You grabbed the remote and flicked on the tv, preparing to turn on an anime you had in mind.

“What romance garbage are you inflicting on me this time?” Your new boyfriend groaned, burying his face in your hair.

“One that’s super sappy and romantic and sad just to piss you off.” You pouted, clicking on each letter to form the desired word in the search bar.

“Have fun with that.” Katsuki snarked, beginning to move away, but you stopped him by deftly pressing your lips to his.

You slowly pulled away, blushing furiously, but happy to feel strong forearms snaking around your front and crossing over your stomach.

“I certainly will.” You respond.

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