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tendouluvr · 4 years ago

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not telling them you’re pregnant [2] - f!reader

- little angst, hurt/comfort??, fluff

- characters: iwaizumi, atsumu, kageyama

- warnings: pregnancy, cravings, morning sickness aka throwing up, some cursing, mentions of sex, “mad” iwa makes out with your neck, atsumu pretends to faint and reader jokes about him dying :0

- wc: 1.4k, 1.3k, 1.7k (jfc thats a lot)

a/n: thank u guys for all the love on the first part <333 ily all and ty to the nonnie that requested tsumu and kags

f!reader cuz pregnancy but no specific prns/gendered terms used

[1. suna, sakusa, semi]

IWAIZUMI

#! you were planning on telling iwaizumi the big news that night

#! you missed your cycle this month, thinking it was probably just late so you didn’t care and waited for one more week to pass before worrying

#! it was almost two weeks now, your period tracker repeatedly sending you notifications to remind you to log your monthly cycle

#! but you had no cycle to log

#! thinking that you should go buy some tests, you did just that and came home to see them all turn positive

#! you were in the kitchen cooking a quick dinner when iwaizumi came home

#! he entered your home mumbling under his breath about some kid while putting up his jacket and shoes

#! “welcome home, haji!” you greeted him from the kitchen

#! “hey.” he briefly said back making you turn around to look at him

#! “you alright? what happened?” you tried starting a conversation in hopes of getting his mind off of whatever it is that seems to be bothering him

#! “some fucking kids came into the gym today, acting all obnoxious, trying to taunt me and the team because they wanted to impress some girls who probably didn’t even know them. would’ve knocked them out if it wasn’t against the fucking law.” he harshly explained his day while looking through the fridge for his protein drink

#! you tried not to laugh, turning around so he couldn’t see your face and tightening your lips together to contain yourself, but it was so funny you couldn’t help but imagine it

#! iwaizumi heard the giggles coming from you causing him to roll his eyes, “what’s funny?”

#! “nothing, should’ve just knocked them out, babe.”

#! “yea? sounds like you want to start visiting me in jail,” he makes his way over to back hug you while you continued cooking at the stove, “well then, i’ll keep that in mind next time some dinky teenager get in my face, baby.” he mumbles against your neck before giving you a quick kiss there

#! “hajjj, i’m cooking. go be horny elsewhere!” your upper half shuddered when he continued making out with your neck

#! “whatever you say, your highness.” deep chuckles come from him while he lets go of you to walk to the bedroom

#! “don’t call me that!” his laugh getting louder at your exclamation

#! later that night, you both laid in bed on your sides staring out of the window in front of you

#! “hey haj,” your voice a gentle whisper as to not wake him up if he had already fell asleep

#! “hmm?” he hums from behind you, rough, warm hands under your shirt rubbing itself on your bare stomach

#! “do you ever want kids?”

#! he was silent as he thought about what to say to you

#! “i don’t if they’re just gonna turn out like those dicks from today.” his answer wasn’t meant to be taken too seriously, he just hoped you didn’t interpret that as him saying he doesn’t want kids at all

#! “so if they don’t?”

#! “.......sure.”

#! you noticed his hesitation before he gave you an answer, trying to ignore it so your brain didn’t start analyzing too much

#! “hm, ok. goodnight, haji.”

#! “goodnight, i love you.”

#! “love you too.”

#! you told yourself that you were gonna reveal the news to him that night, but seeing that he was worked up over those kids and his slight hesitation when he answered you made you change your mind at the last minute

#! you laid awake thinking about what to do while iwaizumi peacefully slept not knowing his hand was caressing his future child

#! a few days have passed and you were still thinking about when to tell him

#! should you just say it? how would you say it? “hey, i’m pregnant.” no, that’s too blunt. “what if i told you i’m pregnant?” eh. “i’m preggo!” maybe.

#! you both never brought up the topic about having kids again ever since that night

#! but what you didn’t know was how occupied iwaizumi’s mind has been ever since you popped that question

#! he’s been imagining what it would be like to have a little him running around the house, maybe he’s a crybaby and dramatic like his uncle oikawa — who definitely would like to be the godfather, and he promises daily facetime calls everyday despite iwaizumi’s obvious displeasure — or perhaps he also finds entertainment in the godzilla franchise like his father

#! iwa thinks it would be neat to sometimes watch godzilla with someone else besides you, preferably his own kid

#! the night you asked him that question, it took him a while to answer because he couldn’t believe what he just heard. getting lost in his thoughts, he didn’t realize he forgot to answer you, giving you a quick, “sure.” once he came back to reality

#! you didn’t know this so you took his moment of silence as a sign of hesitation

#! the minor miscommunication causing you both to go into your own heads

#! you were currently looking in the full body mirror, observing the way your stomach looked and how much it’ll be changing soon to accommodate a living being inside you. your hands were moving around, curving itself against your stomach naturally when iwaizumi walked in on you

#! “babe, have you seen my hoodie? the black one, i think you were wearing it-,” his sentence cut off when he looked up from his phone

#! “what are you doing?” he asked seeing you pull your shirt back down

#! “looking at my stomach.”

#! “why? are you okay?” his voice softened at the second question wondering if you were feeling bad about yourself

#! “uh no, wait- yes, yea i’m okay. um, can i tell you something?”

#! before he could answer, you continued, “well, by tell i mean show. i have something to show you.”

#! “uh, yes? why are you so nervous?”

#! “ok, wait here.”

#! “babe-,” and you ran off leaving iwaizumi and the rest of his sentence in the room. a few seconds later, you came back holding something in your hand

#! “here.” grabbing his thick fingers to open his palm before stuffing the item into it. his eyebrows furrowed and he slowly unravels the piece of paper. you analyzed his face for any signs of anger or discontent while his eyes scanned the pictures from one corner to another

#! “w-what is..... you’re pregnant?” he whispered out, mind and body in shock as he stares at you wide-eyed

#! you nodded knowing that if you opened your mouth to talk you were probably going to cry. he falls onto the bed, sitting at the edge, then buries his head into his hands

#! “haji?” your voice lower than a whisper

#! he didn’t answer

#! but you saw it

#! you saw his shoulders starting to shake

#! “haj?” you tried again, this time lightly walking towards him

#! his cries became audible when he felt your smaller hands wrapping around his shoulders

#! “hey.. why are you crying?” you tried comforting him because it didn’t seem like his tears were going to stop any time soon

#! “shit, yn, fuck me.” he said through his cries

#! “oh?”

#! he rolled his eyes at your implying tone before grabbing you by the waist to lay his head on your chest. his breath staggered from crying, he was still crying just not as hard

#! one of your hand gently going through his hair while the other one rubs his back. the action soothing him enough to calm him down and eventually his tears stopped. “why didn’t you tell me?” his voice pouty and his sentence breaking between every other word

#! “i thought you didn’t want kids. i was scared.”

#! he raises his head so his chin is now resting on your chest, “why’d you think that?”

#! “you.. hesitated... when i asked you, remember?”

#! his eyes drifting to the side as he tries to think back on the last few days. you knew he remembered when his eyes slightly widened and his lips formed a small o, “i’m sorry, the question made me imagine things and i got lost in my train of thoughts that i forgot to answer you right away.”

#! “oh.”

#! “yea..”

#! “then, i’m sorry for assuming things and not telling you.”

#! “no, it’s not your fault.”

#! “it’s not yours either.”

#! “so.. truce?”

#! “idiot! why are we making a truce?!”

#! he giggles as he stuffs his face back into your chest but not before he bent down to give your stomach a loving kiss

ATSUMU

#! atsumu was huffing with his arms crossed across his chest, lip in a pout and eyes squinted as he focuses on the television in front of him

#! “stupid ‘samu and his stupid food. i don’t need it. if he doesn’t want to give me any, then i don’t need it. i can make my own food. stupid. stupid, stupid, stupid.” he childishly mumbled under his breath as his eyes squinted even more, shooting his glare directly at the television

#! “‘tsumu, can you come help me with this?” a voice called from the bedroom. your voice. his beautiful, lovely, awesome sweetheart

#! “c’ming.” he mumbles, slowly sliding off of the couch to trudge over to you

#! “hmm?” he hummed when he got to the entryway of your shared bedroom

#! “can you hold this up a bit, i need to get something in here.” you were in the walk-in closet organizing some things

#! he was happy to help, but you could tell from the way he was pouting and his eyebrows still furrowed that something was bothering him

#! you sighed, “what’s wrong?”

#! “nothin’.”

#! “‘tsumu....,” you gave him a knowing look

#! he was gonna have to tell you at some point, “‘samu, that food hogging pig!”

#! “oh, hey! don’t call him that! it’s mean.”

#! “dun care, his fault for not sharing. our mom taught us better than that.”

#! “you don’t share, get off his back.”

#! “i do!! why are ya siding with him?! i’m yer boyfriend! yer sweet, loving, ethereal boyfriend!”

#! you raised an eyebrow at the way he described himself, “y’sure ‘bout that?”

#! his mouth opens as if he was going to gasp but no sound came out, he just pretended to faint

#! “oh no, did you die?”

#! no answer

#! “about time, thought i was gonna have to endure it for a few more years.”

#! “hey!!” he bounced back up when he heard you say that ridiculously offensive comment

#! “fine, i’ll leave then. don’t come running back to me when ya miss yer oh so handsome future husband.”

#! you snorted before going back to organizing the closet, “hold this for me, please.”

#! he groaned from the back of his throat but went over to help you anyway

#! recently, the twins’ mom gave you guys some boxes of clothes she had put away for some time. not wanting to throw them away, she gave it to you guys and osamu to take whatever you could

#! while looking through the boxes, you dug up some baby clothes that belonged to atsumu

#! “oh my god.”

#! he swings his head over to look at you, “what? hey! that’s mine!”

#! “it’s so ugly.”

#! “i’m telling my mom you said that. she’s gonna hate you sooooo much.”

#! “‘tsum, she set you up.”

#! he faked a wail and then turned back around to ignore you

#! “y’think we can keep some?”

#! “what for?”

#! “i don’t know..what if we have kids later?”

#! “that sounds nice...but we might have twins. i don’t want that.”

#! “huh? you can’t control who and how many we get, ‘tsumu.”

#! “then, let’s not risk it!”

#! “so, you don’t want kids?”

#! “precisely, yah.”

#! you stared incredulously at him while he continued sorting through stuff like he didn’t just tell you he made up his mind on not wanting kids

#! you found out two days ago that you’re pregnant, not yet telling atsumu because you just couldn’t find the right time to sit him down and talk

#! you didn’t expect to find out now that he for sure didn’t want kids. you guys talked about it a few times throughout the years of being together, but he never gave a definite answer

#! it was usually just him teasing you, or he was running around the answer. you never pushed him to answer, you didn’t want to pressure him or anything of that sort

#! “good to know, i’ll keep that in mind.” you mumbled, distracting yourself with folding the clothes

#! atsumu gave you a hum to acknowledge your words. no one says anything after that

#! a few days passed and the topic wasn’t brought up again. you secretly stashed some of the baby clothes while cleaning, the baby was gonna come at some point whether atsumu wanted it or not

#! but what you didn’t know was that he kept a stash of the baby clothes as well. he cleared out a space in his sock drawers by stuffing everything to one side, placing a stack of clothes inside because deep down he knew that there was going to be a mini him one day

#! it was currently morning, you both having the day off so you slept in. your back was curved to mold against his well defined chest while you slept. atsumu was snoring but you learned to block it out over time (he claimed you snore as well, but was never successful on proving it)

#! your eyes shot open, feeling the familiar bile crawling up your throat threatening to come out without your permission

#! quickly throwing the arm that was wrapped around you off, you ran towards the connected bathroom

#! your disappearance making atsumu’s sleepy eyes blink open, “babe? it’s still early.” his rough morning voice whispering out because it wasn’t capable of being louder than that in the morning

#! he heard the gagging noises from the restroom, eyes shooting wide awake in concern. he trips over the comforter trying to get out of bed, hurriedly running to you

#! atsumu acted fast and was holding your hair back, warm palms rubbing circles on your back. he wasn’t sure what to say, choosing to stay silent until you were finished

#! you wiped your mouth with the back of your palm, gasping for air over the toilet seat, reaching out to hold the hand that was on your back, you whispered out an, “i’m pregnant.”

#! initially he didn’t hear you, but once he heard it in his head he gasped. “how long?”

#! “not sure, almost a month?” your voice rough from throwing up

#! atsumu was confused. eyes darting everywhere, not really sure where to exactly focus on. his mind was racing, trying to think of why he didn’t know anything for so long, “ya didn’t tell me?”

#! “how could i when you said you don’t want kids?”

#! “i’m...oh..sorry, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean for it to be taken too seriously. i only said that because of the thing with ‘samu so i thought ya could tell it was a joke.”

#! “no ‘tsumu, i couldn’t. i was already pregnant at that point and hearing you say that about having kids really affected me. i didn’t know how to tell you after you specifically said to not risk anything, how was i suppose to know it was meant to be a joke?” your voice still groggy and tears were building up in your eyes.

#! he lightly sighs then brings his hand up to cup your head, rubbing it to calm you down. “i’m so sorry, angel. i do want kids, specifically with ya. what i said was a bit dicky, but i was just being immature, i promise. i won’t joke about serious things like that again, i’m sorry.”

#! you sniffed and brought his hand up to kiss him on the palm, but he quickly yanked it away making you look up at him in shock. “ya just threw up.” he pointed to the toilet.

#! you laughed at that and quickly apologized, he carried you up so you both can stand up from the bathroom floor. atsumu gently washing your hands and around your mouth, then you swishing some water in your mouth to get rid of the throw up aftertaste

#! “wanna know a secret, babe?” he blurted out while helping you walk back to the bed

#! “what?”

#! “i kept some of the baby clothes.” a shy smile on his face as he winks at you from the side

KAGEYAMA

#! you’ve been feeling a bit sluggish lately, you weren’t sure why because it came out of nowhere

#! you decided to ignore it, but as time passes, you didn’t get any better and you even started to throw up

#! thinking back to the talk your mom gave you when you were 10, you went out to buy some pregnancy tests

#! the timeline made sense, the last time you both had sex was a few weeks ago

#! kageyama’s been caught up with practice, you were stressed, so naturally you both thought it was a good idea to let it out

#! but what you didn’t expect was having to buy pregnancy tests because there was a possibility you’re pregnant

#! granted there wasn’t any protection used and you stopped taking your pills a while ago because you guys just didn’t care anymore, so nevermind, you do see how you could be pregnant

#! but damn, one time. all it took was one time

#! shaking your head, you took your phone out to text kageyama

#! you’re not telling him over text, just letting him know you have something to tell him tonight so he can know to prepare for a talk

#! you: tobiii

#! you: i have something to tell you

#! you: tonight tho

#! you: after you come home

#! him: ok love

#! while waiting for him to come home, you lazed around and scrolled through social media for a bit. checking twitter, you were reading some tweets from kageyama’s fans, finding some funny, some adorable, and some just...weird

#! but one tweet you saw was from someone who had met kageyama at one of his previous games. the person was talking about their experience getting to meet him and they even wrote out a part of the conversation they had with kageyama

#! kageyama’s gf (real) @K4G3B10 tweeted: omfg i just met kageyama fucking tobiiosdfjdf

#! it was a thread so you clicked on it to continue reading

#! kageyama’s gf (real) @K4G3B10 tweeted: he’s so sighs dreamily

#! kageyama’s gf (real) @K4G3B10 tweeted: so fucking tall. i’m 5′3 and mans all the way up there 👆

#! kageyama’s gf (real) @K4G3B10 tweeted: OH OMH wait lemme type out one part of our convo omfg i think he has a partner?????? like an actual s/o guys not me

#! kageyama’s gf (real) @K4G3B10 tweeted: ok i asked him smtg along the lines of what he thought abt having so many fans who are children ykk bc i was thinking he knew i was implying that these kids look up to him and stuff

#! kageyama’s gf (real) @K4G3B10 tweeted: but this man.....is so...UNAWARE why is he like this but he said smtg like he doesnt understand how kids can be fans of him bc how can they understand professional volleyball like that and i was like ???mf didn’t u grow up playing vball

#! kageyama’s gf (real) @K4G3B10 tweeted: so i was like oh ok :D and then asked him abt his thoughts on his future kids following in his footsteps bc i was thinking his answer would be wholesome or some shit

#! kageyama’s gf (real) @K4G3B10 tweeted: he told me,,,,, i dont have kids and i dont want any... !!!! why does mr kagman not want kids w me :(( /j

#! kageyama’s gf (real) @K4G3B10 tweeted: ok so like all of this happened v quickly i was like in and out in 10 seconds lmao but WAIT after he said he doesnt want kids i saw him scrunching his face up

#! kageyama’s gf (real) @K4G3B10 tweeted: im not mind reader nor body language reader but idk he looked .. hrm sad?? FUCK IDK DONT TAKE M E SERIOUSLY IM DELUSIONAL

#! being an adult, you knew you shouldn’t be taking twitter threads of his teenage fans too seriously but you couldn’t help but reread the part where he said he didn’t want kids

#! did he actually say that or is this person rewording what he said? you now realized how you guys never really talked about having kids

#! sure, it was brought up once or twice but it was just because you were having baby fever. kageyama himself never directly told you he wanted kids or he was fine with having kids of his own

#! you sighed to yourself as you lock your phone, closing your eyes to take a nap until kageyama comes home

#! you felt yourself being shaken awake lightly, a familiar presence hovering over you on the couch made you open an eye

#! “tobio?”

#! “who else would it be?”

#! “i don’t know, a murderer?”

#! he scoffs at the slim chance of a someone breaking in to hurt you, but quickly turned his attention back to you when he remembered you wanted to talk

#! “so what’d you wanted to tell me?”

#! “oh, can you sit down?”

#! “o..kay?” he stiffly walked to sit beside you on the couch

#! “i’m uh,” think of something, “honestly, i forgot. yea, i forgot what i was gonna tell you. sorry.”

#! he raises one eyebrow to gaze at you curiously

#! “are you sure? it sounded important when you texted me.”

#! “mhm! yup, i forgot. sorry if i worried you, heh, are you hungry? there’s leftovers we can heat up.” you quickly tried to change the subject, getting up to walk to the kitchen

#! luckily your boyfriend didn’t question it further and got up to trail right behind you

#! you figured giving yourself some time before telling him after what you read was a good idea

#! are you aware that you were overthinking some tweet by a stranger on the app that is twitter? yes, you were. but you’re also human and overthinking is in human’s nature

#! it’s been three weeks and you still haven’t told kageyama the news. a part of you was ready to tell him, just let him know and you guys talk it out, what’s the worst that could happen

#! but the other part of you was scared. scared he actually didn’t want kids. scared he was going to leave you because going through with the pregnancy would drag him down. scared he would get mad at you for not being more careful when he was equally at fault

#! you know how kageyama gets when his emotions get complicated, he can’t deal with it so his one outlet is anger

#! he has no filter and says whatever comes to mind, all logical thinking leaving his brain

#! and that part of you is the stronger one

#! obviously you were going to tell him at some point, it’s not like you can literally hide the growing baby inside you

#! just not yet, not until you’re ready

#! you’re currently a little over a month, bump not really showing, but it’s there and it’s growing

#! kageyama can be a bit dim when it comes to.. most things beside volleyball, and usually you tease him about it but for once you thank whatever god is out there that he hasn’t noticed any big changes on your body yet

#! that was until you were showering, and he made the decision to enter the shower with you without your knowledge

#! humming to yourself while scrubbing your arms, you scooted back away from the water so it wouldn’t wash off the body wash you were trying to use

#! the action causing you to lightly hit kageyama’s chest making you jump from where you were standing

#! “tobio!” you screamed, turning around to throw the foamed body wash at him

#! he chuckles at your surprised expression and didn’t mind the soap you threw onto him, which was now sticking to his defined chest

#! “why were you just standing there, creep?”

#! he was still giggling when he answered you, “did i scare you this time?”

#! “what do you think?” you lightheartedly roll your eyes before going back to scrubbing your body

#! he picked the loofah out of your hand to continue for you

#! you both enjoyed the relaxing sound of running water and quiet echoed hums as he takes his time washing you when he suddenly stopped

#! opening your eyes, you looked up at him, “what’s wrong?”

#! he was just staring at you, blinking very slowly

#! “why do you look- your stomach feels- you look very-,” he sighs, “you look pregnant.”

#! now it was your turn to blink at him

#! you totally forgot that you were naked at the moment and he could easily see every inch of your body

#! blinking once more, you took a deep breath before telling him, “that’s ‘cuz i am.”

#! “y-you are?!” he jumped from his spot

#! “yea.. do you have a problem with that?”

#! “i...why didn’t you tell me?”

#! “do you have a problem with that?” you repeated

#! “n-no..so why didn’t you tell me?”

#! “you’re not mad?”

#! “why would i...?” his voice slightly turning high pitched as he dragged the i out

#! “i thought you didn’t want kids.”

#! “who told you that? when did i say that?”

#! “twitter.” you murmured under your breath

#! “what?”

#! “twitter..” you said a bit louder, still murmuring and choosing to turn away from him

#! “twitter?! why didn’t you just tell me, your real life boyfriend?”

#! “because!.... i was scared.”

#! “s-scared? baby, why?”

#! “i was scared you were going to leave. i don’t want you to leave. that night i told you i had something to tell you, that was when i found out. i backed out when you came home and i’m sorry. i should’ve just told you, i’m sorry, tobio-,” you were crying at this point, both of you standing under the water

#! “shh, shh, it’s okay. i’m sorry for not noticing earlier. you’re alright, babe. it’s okay. it’s okay to not feel ready, you don’t have to feel pressured to tell me anything, alright? whenever you’re ready, you tell me,” you meekly nodded as he pulls you into a hug, “whenever you’re ready..”

#! you both stood hugging each other’s bare body for a few minutes under the warm water

#! “that was probably the smartest thing you’ve ever said, tobi.” your voice sounding congested from the crying

#! “hey. mean.”

1K notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

Text

All Nighter

Previous Parts: Extracurricular Teacher’s Pet

Warnings: noncon/rape; drinking/drunkenness; name calling;

This is a dark! fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Pairing: (Professor) Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Summary: Your academic worries are compounded by your personal dilemma.

Note: Yeah, yeah, yeah. I caved and we get a third part.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Halfway through the lesson, you excused yourself. As Ransom waited at the front and students scoured over an excerpt of Catcher in the Rye, he sent you another jarring message. It was time.

You stood carefully, the skirt offering little coverage and knowing you were about to be even more exposed. You ducked down as you walked along the front row and disappeared through the door.

You went to the restroom and locked yourself in a stall. Your phone vibed again, still clutched tightly in your hand. ‘Show me.’ He demanded and even in font, the words made you shudder.

You sighed and held your phone out at an angle with one hand as you opened the camera. You directed the lense to your skirt and tugged it up until your purple panties were exposed. You shimmied as you slid them down on either side with your fingers and let them fall past the top of your stockings. You ended the recording and hit send before collecting your crumpled underwear.

You folded them and shoved them up your sleeve and locked your phone. You returned to the class, unnoticed, and sat in your seat with your head down. You bent back the cover of the book and tried to focus on the passage. You could hear Ransom as he rocked in the old office chair.

You peeked up at him as he held his phone up. His face was blank as he watched the screen. His finger tapped the phone and he nodded. He lowered his cell and his eye caught yours before you could shy away. He winked and cleared his throat.

“Alright, everyone, let’s start with a brief summary. Who wants to begin?” He stood and approached the podium again. “Go ahead.”

You blinked and realised he was pointing at you. You let out a prolonged uh and shuffled your book dumbly.

“Um, in this chapter, uh, Holden tells us about his neighbour, Jane, and um,” you squirmed a Ransom stared at you and you felt the attention of every other student in the lecture hall, “As the chapter progresses we learn that Holden has shared with her things, like Allie’s baseball glove, that he hasn’t with anyone else and in turn, eh, erm, Jane’s character disassembles and both Holden and the reader wonder after her alcoholic stepfather and even if he has… a-abused her. Holden prefers to think of her, however, as innocent, and accepts a not very convincing denial. Really, he hears what he wants to and goes on without a single--” You stopped as you began to ramble. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Ransom appeared amused and leaned on the podium. “Okay. Any other interpretations?”

He looked around and you deflated in your chair. You didn’t want to be here. You didn’t want to be talking about Jane and her vile stepfather, and you didn’t want your professor to keep looking between your legs. But just like Holden, Ransom couldn’t see anything but his own male ego. Anyone else was just a stepping stone in his grand American narrative.

🖊️

When class ended, you were as eager as any other to be gone. The two-hour block at seven in the evening was hardly anyone’s ideal, even if it was a weeknight. You slid your notebook away and the used edition of Salinger. You dropped the pens into the side pocket of your worn messenger bag and stood to watch your peers flood out of the classroom.

You wanted badly to be on your way and for an instant, you had a glimmer of hope that you might. But then you heard the deep breath and your name was called from behind you.

“Just a minute,” he said with all pretense of deceiving any stragglers, “You seem to be missing a page from your assignment.”

You turned slowly and left your bag in the seat. You neared him and your nostrils flared as your gaze met his. It wasn’t even your paper he held. You swallowed back your reticence and pretended to look at the essay.

“Oh, sorry.” You said as he peered over your shoulder.

“Go on,” he lowered his voice as the upper doors finally closed with a heavy clank.

You cringed and reached up your sleeve and pulled out your panties. You let them fall onto the folder and he poked his fingers through the fabric and stretched them out. He hummed and rubbed the cotton between his fingers.

“You got anything sexier?” He snatched them up and shoved them in his pocket. “I thought you college girls were funner than that.”

You glared at him and crossed your eyes. “Right, is that everything?”

“Don’t,” he warned, “Sweetie, I don’t like that tone.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes. He shuffled away his papers as you retreated to grab your own bag. You headed for the door as you unfolded your jacket from over your arm.

“Where are you going? I didn’t dismiss you.” He called from behind you. You turned back and stared at him.

“I have class in the morning.” You said.

“And?” He scoffed. “It’s only nine.”

You were quiet as he approached you. You wanted so badly to scream and hit him. He was a frat boy with tenure. He was as slimy and shady as every guy on campus and you had been deluded enough to think that age and title would change a spoiled brat with a silver spoon still lodged firmly in his mouth. Oh, the naive romanticism of a sophomore.

“Why are you doing this?” You asked.

He snickered and kept on as you backed away from him. He had you against the door as he slapped his hand above your shoulders and loomed over you. He leaned in as his other hand played with the bottom of your shirt.

“Because I can.” He purred, “And because I love the look in your eyes as I’m balls deep.”

“Ew,” you slapped his chest but he didn’t flinch. He merely grabbed your arm and spun you around as he pushed the door open behind you.

“Good thing you took those panties off,” he sneered, “You won’t be needing them.”

🖊️

You spent the car ride hunched against the passenger door, wishing you were anywhere else. Ransom let the radio fill the silence as he barely seemed to recall your presence. He steered with one hand, unbothered by the tension between you. As he pulled up to his house, its tall glass windows and geometric structure thrust you into a whirlwind of deja vu.

He killed the engine and rounded as you remained in your seat. You were too numb to do anything but sit there and stare at the house. You remembered patches of that night; stumbling up the walk, Ransom carrying you up stairs, his body against yours, the disorienting pain of his intrusion.

The door opened and you nearly fell out of the car. The seatbelt kept you from your descent and you unbuckled it as Ransom grabbed your arm and dragged you out into the crisp autumn evening. Your boots tapped melodically as he led you up the paved walk and you found it hard to think straight.

“Wait, wait,” you stopped as you reached the threshold, “No, Ransom, Professor… this is… wrong. You can’t--”

“For such a quiet little bitch you sure don’t shut the fuck up,” he snarled as he unlocked the door, one hand still on your arm. Your blood froze as you thought of your bag on the floor of the car, your phone buried in the side pocket. “Come on.”

“No, please,” you wriggled in his grasp, “You can’t keep doing this to me. I’ll… I’ll tell.”

“Not if I tell first,” he said coolly and bent to sling you over his shoulder. “Now let’s give you something to tell about.”

He pushed through the door and slapped your ass as he carried you inside. You kicked and writhed over his shoulder as he strode into the front room. The lights shone as they were triggered by some unseen sensor.

He carried you to the modern sofa with its flat cushions and low back, and dropped you onto it gruffly. You bounced and bit your tongue painfully.

“Don’t make me tear those clothes off or you won’t have anything to wear in the morning,” he warned as he kicked off his leather boots and paced along the broad windows that formed the front wall of the room. He shrugged off his jacket and hung it on a rack in the corner and turned back to you. “Well…”

You bent to unzip your boots and shoved them aside. You heard a clink and looked over your shoulder. Ransom stood behind the small bar along the far wall and plunked a glass on top.

“Seem to loosen up with a few drinks in you,” he pulled out another tumblr and a bottle of dark whiskey. “This stuffs a lot better than that toilet water they serve in the club.”

You ignored him and stood to remove your jacket. You realised that there was no way out. You kept trying to convince yourself there was but that only made it worse. You hung your coat beside his as he watched you closely and gave a measured pour.

“Here,” he slid a glass across the bar. “Drink up, sweetie.”

“I’m not thirsty,” you ignored him and walked nervously back to the sofa. Was it better to have it done with?

“I don’t care what you want now get over here and drink,” he growled. “Or I’ll force it down that pretty little throat myself.”

You blanched and slowly crossed to the bar. You took the short glass and raised it, the alcohol made your nose tingle. He watched you as he drained his own tumbler. You tossed it back in three stinging gulps and coughed as you set the glass back on the bar. He chuckled and poured again, but didn’t add any to his empty glass.

“Again.” He ordered.

“Please, I can’t--” You waved your hand as you touched your raw throat. He stared at you and his jaw twitched. You pouted and lifted the glass again. You drank with tears in your eyes and gasped as you swigged it down. “There.” You choked as you planted the tumblr on the bar top.

He reached over as if to pour some more and grinned as he hovered the bottle over your glass. He laughed and lowered it down onto its base instead. “Good girl.” He came out from behind the bar and neared you, drawing you away with him. “But you’re not naked yet.”

He thrust you ahead of him and you stumbled to the sofa. Your wits were buzzing from the whiskey and your empty stomach rolled. You hadn’t eaten since the early afternoon, right before your second lecture. You were wholly unprepared for the alcohol and the man before you.

You reached and tugged at the bottom of your turtleneck. You pulled it up and freed your head from it with a grunt. You dropped it onto the sofa and Ransom touched your shoulder where he’d bit you days before. It was still tender and made you wince. You unbuttoned your skirt and pushed the zipper down. It fell to your ankles without much effort.

Ransom’s hands went to your chest and he fondled your tits through your plain bra. He reached around you and unhooked it easily, yanking it down your arms and flinging it away. His fingers danced along your side and you hooked your thumb under the top of your stockings.

“Uh uh,” he tutted, “Keep those on.”

You retracted your hand and he gripped your shoulders. He pushed until you sat on the sofa and he backed away slightly. His tongue poked out as he took you in and he grinned. He pulled his knit sweater over his head and threw it on the floor. He made quick work of his undershirt and revealed his muscled torso. You squeezed your legs together and stared at your knees.

“We both know those college boys are nothing compared to me, sweetie,” he teased as you heard the buckle of his belt. “It’s okay, you can have a peek.”

You didn’t say anything as you listened to him strip. When he neared, you couldn’t bring yourself to look up. He grabbed your chin and forced your head up. His other hand moved below your vision as he stroked himself.

“Get up,” he demanded and you stood with a sway. The whiskey stormed inside of you.

His hand fell to your arm and he dragged you away from the sofa. He directed you towards the tall windows and you shivered as you got closer. He stopped you before the glass and brought your hands up and planted them against the window. You felt the chill through it as he grasped your hips and drew your feet back. You stared out onto the drive, the street barely visible just beyond the curve, although you could see the lights of the neighbour’s house.

“What--”

“Shhh,” he tickled your spine and groped your ass roughly. “Stay just like that, sweetie.”

He slipped his hand down and kicked your feet apart. He felt along your folds and you shivered as his warmth contrasted against the cold seeping through the glass. Bumps rose along your skin as he poked around your entrance.

“Wet, already.” He tisked, “I thought you were a good girl.”

You shook your head and closed your eyes as he reached to your clit and rubbed it with two fingers. You gasped as he teased you and drew back to shove a finger inside you. He grabbed your shoulder as your back arched and stepped closer. He pulled his hand away and prodded you with his tip again.

“Professor…” You hissed.

His hand went to the back of your neck and he pushed your face against the glass as he slowly forced his tip inside of you. You groaned and turned so that your cheek rested against the cool window and he impaled you entirely. You slapped the glass and your fingers curled as he filled you.

“Ah,” you whined and he bucked so that your whole body quaked.

“Still so fucking tight,” he rocked against you as his thick breaths surrounded you. “You had me hard all night, sweetie. I could barely fucking stand straight.”

He tilted his hips into you as you were on tiptoes and your legs began to tremble beneath you. You clung to the glass, afraid you might collapse. He nuzzled your head and growled as sped up. You moaned without thinking as your walls clenched around him.

“That’s it,” he hummed and dropped his hand from your neck, trailing both along your chest and stomach. He hunched over you as he felt around the back of your thighs and panted into your hair. “You can play coy all you want but your cunt says it all.”

His hands stretched across your thighs and you exclaimed as he suddenly scooped you up. He bent your legs to your chest as he lifted you and your fingertips slid along the glass. He hooked his arms under your knees and opened you up as he hammered into you from below.

He stepped closer to the window and you braced yourself against it as your reflection stared back at you. The inky dark was clouded by the glare of the light inside and revealed to you your shame. Your eyes drifted down and you saw how easily he slid in and out of you.

Your legs tensed around his arms and your breath hitched. You shut your eyes as your mouth fell open and felt your core bloom. You were close, so close, and you needed to cum. You didn’t care that it was him or that it was here; you had to.

You kept one hand on the window and snaked your other down to your cunt. You flicked circles around your clit as the sound of your flesh mingled with his. He crashed into you harder and harder and snarled into your neck.

“You fucking slut,” he rasped, “You touching yourself? Huh? You fucking like it.” He pulled your legs further apart until your hips rang with pain. “Bad girl.”

You spasmed and came with a squeak. You felt yourself dripping down his cock as the warmth leaked from you. You smacked your slick hand against the window again and bit down on your lip as he rutted into you with gristly grunts.

“Say it. You’re a bad girl.” He puffed.

“Wha--”

“Say it,” he slammed into you hard.

“I’m-- I’m a… bad… girl,” you choked out. “Oh, oh, I’m bad.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he said frantically and stilled you. He sniffed and held you on him. “Get…” His voice trailed off and he lifted you from him.

He lowered you swiftly and your legs wobbled dangerously beneath you. He grabbed the back of your neck and forced you to your knees. He brought you close as he stroked himself desperately.

“I’m gonna cum on your tits, sweetie,” he moaned, “I’m gonna--”

He grunted and strings of cum erupted from him as he angled his dick over you. His cum spurted over your chest and shoulders, even along your chin and cheek as his body shook and his fingers sank into your neck. He twitched as he slowed his hand and sighed as he let his cock bob freely before him.

“Mmm,” he let go of you and looked down at you with a smirk, “You look amazing covered in me.”

He ran his hands over his chest and exhaled. You tried to stand and he caught your shoulder. “Crawl.” He ordered. “Get on the sofa and wait for me, sweetie.” He ran his finger through the cum along your cheek, “I won’t be long.”

🖊️

You woke in a fog. Your thighs, your hips, your cunt all ached. Your eyes fluttered open and you stared up at the pristine white ceiling. You were sprawled flat on the stiff sofa, alone. Your mouth was dry and your tongue tasted of flesh and alcohol. You groaned and sat up as your head reverberated. The sky outside was a dull grey and the clock above the door read just before seven. Fuck.

Your name floated in from the doorway at the other end of the room. You hung your head and stood. You took the throw draped over the back of the chair beside the couch and covered yourself. You neared the arch and peeked inside. Ransom poured a cup of coffee from a French press.

“You’re gonna be late if you don’t get your ass in gear,” he said smugly as he pushed the mug across the island.

You grumbled and crossed to the marble counter. You climbed up onto a tall stool and winced at the tenderness between your legs. The coffee smelled delicious as your stomach churned.

“Don’t worry, you can ride with me,” he taunted. “What time you done today?”

You frowned and took a boiling sip, barely noticing how the coffee seared your tongue. “Four… why?”

“Hmm, that’ll be a long day,” he said. “But not… too long.”

His cryptic words made you scowl and he left you without explanation. He returned with a pink box and his phone. He placed both on the counter. You watched him, confused, and he eased the lid off the box. Inside, was a silicon plug in hot pink. You shook your head.

“No.” You said firmly.

“It’s for your cunt, calm down,” he said.

“No,” you repeated and cradled your mug. “Ransom…”

“Professor. I think I prefer ‘professor’. It’s… proper.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes. He flicked his finger over his phone and it unlocked. He tapped and you leaned on your elbow. He pressed his finger against the centre of the circle that appeared and the box began to buzz as the plug vibrated. He dragged his finger around the circle and the toy intensified. You blinked.

“We’ll save that fun for class tomorrow night,” he licked his lip, “For now, you just need to… adjust.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, come on. You take me well enough.” He slithered. “Gotta have you ready… I have a break just after five. I expect you can hit pause on your studying for a visit.”

You were stunned. You set the cup down and rubbed your cheeks as you tried to process it all.

“You’re disgusting.” You sneered.

“Oh,” he closed the app and searched through his phone. He turned it to you and hit place, “So are you, sweetie.”

You squinted as you saw yourself against the glass, your tits bouncing as Ransom fucked you from behind, his own face hidden by the angle of the security camera. You swallowed and your hands went to your neck as your skin burned with humiliation.

“You…” you were speechless and tore your eyes way from his phone.

“I have a lot more than that,” he assured you as he spun the phone back to him and watched the footage with a leer, “Hurry up.” He locked the screen. “Or I’ll make sure we’re both late.”

#ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale #dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #fic #series #extracurricular #teacher's pet #all nighter #dark fic #dark!fic #knives out #au #professor au #professor!AU #professor ransom drysdale

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

Text

Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (Chapter 5)

(chapter 1) (chapter 2) (chapter 3) (chapter 4)

series summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind. you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman– even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.

word count: nearly 2.5k

warnings: vague description of a wet dream, some sensual implied stuff (??),

moodboard and inspiration credit to @evnscvll

In all your life, you’d never had a wet dream. Not even in high school when so many of your peers were coping with puberty and budding sexuality in similar ways— not even when you’d wanted to have one about David Kapoor, the cutest guy in senior year who didn’t even know you existed but that you were somehow convinced was going to fall madly in love with you one day.

It never did work out for you two, but you’d finally managed to have a wet dream. This one, though, was about Sebastian.

In your dream he had cornered you in the kitchen, kissing you deeply before tossing you onto the table and— well, the rest doesn’t bear repeating. It was all very ‘discount bin romance novel’ wasn’t it? The exotic, rugged farm boy roughly taking the formerly-prudish businesswoman in the middle of the house, too deep in the throes of passion to care if someone walking by saw them.

You didn’t find it all that sexy by the time you woke up; moreso just humorous. That’s preposterous, you thought to yourself, nobody’s ever gonna love me like that.

It was something your husband had said to you once. You couldn’t even remember what the context was anymore, but clearly it had had an impact on you to be repeating it internally now. Just last week, Mrs. Alberti had gotten on your case for speaking poorly of yourself. Clearly, the things you said about yourself to others were nothing against what you said about yourself to yourself.

Your papers had only taken a day to dry, but the ink was pretty severely smudged. Knowing your publisher wouldn’t accept them in a manuscript, you resolved to retyping the most damaged ones— a good mindless task to do while you pondered your next steps plot-wise. You’d seen Sebastian less for the past week, and it was no accident; you’d been avoiding him because you were trying to nip this in the bud before it got any worse. Your divorce isn’t final yet, you need to heal. This is fantasy, not reality. You barely know each other. Your divorce isn’t final. Your divorce. Isn’t. Final.

That was the mantra you found yourself repeating as you retyped the waterlogged sheets; so much for the plot-pondering plan, eh?

You heard someone coming up the stairs, and you knew it was him because the steps were coming too quickly to be Mrs. Alberti. “Come in,” you instructed before he’d even knocked.

“Bună ziua,” he greeted as he opened the door, leaning inside. “Am pregătit cina, ai vrea să mănânci?”

“Hm?” you asked as you turned around in your chair, adjusting your reading glasses. However, his question became more obvious through context when you saw he had oven mitts and an apron on, and was holding a wooden spoon. “Oh, um, I’ll be down for dinner in a minute. Soon.” You held up a few fingers, hoping he would successfully interpret them into minutes.

“Arăți bine în ochelarii aceia,” he motioned, pointing towards you.

“I’m sorry… what?” you asked, not sure at all what he could be talking about.

“Ochelari. Sunt drăguți,” he re-emphasized, but it was useless as you gave him another confused look. He sighed, straightening up a bit as he began a new method: “Îmi plac,” he said, pointing to himself and then giving a thumbs up, “ochelarii tăi,” he pointed to you, and then made circles with his fingers and brought them up to his eyes.

You laughed a little, but you were pretty sure you got what he meant. “You like my glasses?” you clarified, reaching up to wiggle them on your face a bit.

“Da,” he grinned. “Pari inteligent.”

“Thank you,” you nodded, and he nodded back as he shut the door and his footsteps faded back into the kitchen.

Once a few more pages had been redone, you gave your hair a quick combing before heading down for dinner with Sebastian. It smelled a little strange by the time you went downstairs, but when you swung open the door to the kitchen, you were instantly hit with a wave of acidic air, forcing you to wince and cough. Even that didn’t help much, and you forced your eyes shut as they stung.

“Jesus Christ,” you yelped, “the fuck are you cooking? Tear gas?!”

“Oțetul te irită?” he asked, not sounding as concerned as you would’ve hoped considering your obvious pain. It was like you could taste it in the air, and it wasn’t until you managed to open your burning eyes again that you realized what it was: vinegar, in a huge jug right next to the pot he was boiling it in.

“You’re boiling vinegar?” you realized incredulously. “God, Europeans are fucking weird.”

He just looked back at you with bewildered bemusement.

“In America,” you tried to explain, “we don’t eat vinegar. We clean our floors with it.” You pointed to the jug and made a motion meant to indicate scrubbing a surface, and he laughed a little.

“Americanii sunt prea sensibili,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand, turning back to the stove to stir his pot of disinfectant which he apparently planned to serve you as a meal. “Am avut ciorbă de oțet de când eram copil.”

You’d typically considered yourself an adventurous eater— even with vinegar-pickled things, like kim chi which you’d learned to acquire a taste for— but this one put you to the test. Considering the smell alone had singed your sinuses, you were nervous what would become of your innocent tastebuds. But after he served the soup (a dark orange color, so apparently it wasn’t just the boiled vinegar) into a bowl for you and another for himself, you found the taste of it oddly pleasant when you sipped it gently from your hesitant little spoon.

“Vezi, nu e așa de rău,” he smiled gently as he watched you fail to recoil in disgust from the flavor.

“Just like ma used to make, huh?” you chuckled as he ate the soup with incredible speed, even going as far as to lift the bowl to his lips and drink the last few sips that way.

Eating dinner in silence with him was unexpectedly comfortable. “You wanna know something funny?” you found yourself mumbling aloud. “I enjoy talking to you more than anyone I ever did back home, and you can’t even understand me.”

His smile softened as he stared back at you, apparently sensing the change in your tone as you spoke.

“See, right there, that’s it: you’re listening to me. You know it’s useless, you know you won’t be able to tell what I’m talking about, but you’re listening anyways. Over two billion English speakers on the planet and none of them have listened to me like you do.”

Then you heard yourself, and it was so heart-breaking that you had no choice but to laugh. It was just a chuckle at first, but then you couldn’t stop it, even when you realized how confused Sebastian would be. Everything is funnier when you know you shouldn’t laugh, and soon you could barely breathe as tears warmed your eyes from the force of it.

“I’m sorry,” you tried to spit out between your fits of laughter, but it was barely comprehensible anyways. Sebastian began to laugh with you, if hesitantly and with a hint of confusion.

“De ce râdem?” he asked gently.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, calming down a bit, “I’m sorry I just… I was just imagining what my husband would say, if he knew I was here…” you trailed off as you laughed again, starting over. “If he knew I was here, falling for someone I’ve never even spoken with.” You shook your head, resting your face in your hands as you chuckled lightly. “Oh, he’d hate this. He’d tell me I was out of my mind.”

With a slow sigh, your laughter subsided as you wiped the wetness from your eyes.

“He’d be right, but… I don’t really care,” you decided. “He’s not here. If he wanted to find me, he would. And maybe it’s because he’d hate this that I’m having so much goddamn fun doing it.”

When you looked at Sebastian again, his face was serious, yet anything but stern. Suddenly, you weren’t thinking about your husband anymore. Of course you logically understood how odd this all was, how impossible it was for you to be slowly finding yourself in love with someone like him, but it felt right, and true, and real. It made no sense, and yet it made perfect sense in every way that mattered.

“I’ll help you clean,” you offered as you stood up, realizing you’d gotten lost in your train of thought and probably stared at him for a bit too long. He stood up with you, helping you gather the used dishes and letting you wash them in the sink while he put the remaining soup in the refrigerator as leftovers for another time. “I’ll cook for you tomorrow,” you promised, “something real bland, like the English cook.”

“Sper că nu intenționați să gătiți pentru mine cândva, nu suport mâncarea occidentală,” he mumbled as he continued to wipe down the countertop with a damp towel.

With the kitchen clean, you knew you should get back to writing your book, but you were compelled instead to read somebody else’s— so, as you slipped onto the couch with one of a few of your favorites that you’d brought with you, Sebastian summoned the same copy of Dracula you’d seen him reading a few times and took the loveseat. Not much else happened after that, save for you shivering from a draft and him tossing a throw blanket on you.

“Ce carte citești?” he asked you eventually, breaking the silence. When you looked up, he was pointing at your book. “Book?”

“Right,” you laughed, “I taught you that. My book, uh, it’s good.” You closed it, leaving your finger inside to mark your place as you showed him the front cover. “On the Road? Ever heard of it?”

He just cocked his head to the side.

“Jack Kerouac?” you continued. “It’s about going on a long journey in search of… freedom.”

“Acesta este cel despre zombi?” he asked.

“Sure,” you nodded, wishing more than ever that you could know what he was saying. He smiled and got back to his own reading. Indulging yourself for a moment, you watched his face as it fell into a neutral expression while he read, his eyes trailing along the page as he continued to read. You didn’t realize it, but when you returned to reading your own book, he got his chance to look at you.

A long day of writing meant you had more than earned an evening to relax by the fire; late summer became early fall, and early fall turned into the need for a fireplace so much faster than you’d anticipated. The days were temperate, sure, but as the sun began to sink lower, so did the warmth. You started your evening with a hot shower, though you didn’t let yourself get too greedy with the limited supply of hot water, knowing Sebastian relied on the same supply for his own baths. When you finished, you dressed yourself in a fluffy lavender robe, feeling especially pampered when you put on a little moisturizer before heading downstairs to cozy up with the fire. You were already getting chilly, the heat from the shower fading as your wet hair and bare feet cooled you quickly. Therefore, it was more of a scurry to the fireplace, which you hadn’t expected Sebastian to be tending or you wouldn’t have come down in a robe. He’d seen you in less (namely, his shirt and nothing else, which was horrifically embarrassing) but something about this felt more intimate, like all your defenses had been washed away in the shower, too. Didn’t help that he was shirtless, again. Wasn’t he cold in this weather?! Must be all that muscle keeping him warm.

“Bună seara,” he greeted.

“Good evening,” you returned. Stepping closer, you rubbed your hands together as you felt the hot air radiate towards you. “It’s nice,” you sighed contentedly.

He smiled back at you, moving the logs slightly with the iron poker. Sparks jumped and fell off as he shifted them, joining the ashes below— you’d always thought fire was so beautiful, even if it was dangerous, and you took in a long breath through your nose to smell the tinge of smokiness in the air.

“Te încălzești?” he asked quietly as he set the poker aside and stood beside you. You wrapped your arms around yourself, rubbing through the fabric of the robe to try to warm up a little faster. Seeing you shiver, he reached out and rubbed your arms for you, which made you tense up slightly before relaxing and breathing out. “Mai bine?”

You nodded a little, your gaze drifting slightly.

“Warm?” he asked, making your eyes jump back up to his. You swallowed dryly as he looked back at you.

“Warm,” you repeated, “yeah. Good job… when’d you learn that?”

He didn’t answer, watching your hands as they reached out for his arms, finally making delicate contact with his tanned skin before drifting up to his biceps, his shoulders, and finally his chest. He put his own hands on top of yours and held them there, looking back at you as your heart started to beat rapidly and with no signs of slowing down. “Warm,” he repeated, only slightly above a whisper.

“Oh yeah,” you agreed hoarsely, “very, very warm…”

He smiled a little; it wasn’t mischievous, it wasn’t conniving or predatory or malicious. It was subtle but gentle in a way you had absolutely no plan to save yourself from, no protection, no armor, no neutral territory. There was only heat, so strong that your toes weren’t cold anymore and you didn’t even remember that your hair was still damp. Not only did you let his heat consume you, but you didn’t even think to stop it, to swallow your desire down, to run away and say goodnight and hide in bed from the icky scary feelings. No, you looked right back at him and let those eyes pierce right through you, that cold blue changed entirely with the warm firelight reflecting in them.

“Do you want to come to my room?” you asked slowly. The words were useless, but a glance back to the stairs that led to your door and back at him asked the same question with much more efficacy.

He nodded, and you stepped backwards as he followed you: across the house, up the stairs, and to your room. You opened the door. He shut it behind you.

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan rpf #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n

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dialovers-translations · 3 years ago

Text

DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE,BLOOD Vol.10 Sakamaki Reiji [Track 3+4]

Original title: 鞭 & お仕置き

Source: Diabolik Lovers More, Blood Vol. 10: Sakamaki Reiji [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Katsuyuki Konishi

Translator’s note: Things are getting a little dangerous for the MC, but once again, this CD feels a lot more tame than the other ones. Reiji is pretty much just ‘threatening’ to punish her for now, but hasn’t done too much to actually harm her. As someone who isn’t into the super extreme stuff, this is definitely a nice change of pace. :p

Track 1+2 ll Track 3+4 ll Track 5+6 ll Track 7+8 ll Track 9+10

→ LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

TRACK 3: WHIP

*Rustle rustle*

“I told you to keep still, did I not? Do you wish to be whipped by me? I will gladly do so if that is your wish.”

*Rustle rustle*

“I happen to have one on hand at the moment. ...Fufu, if you do not wish to be hit by this, you better keep still. Understood?”

You flinch and keep still.

[00:31] “Hmー At first glance, nothing seems to be off.”

*Rustle rustle*

“There’s nothing left behind on your earlobe...your throat...or your nape. ...Hm? What seems to be the matter? You are quivering? Did you perhaps think I would suck your blood?”

You avert your gaze.

[01:05] “Please do not underestimate me. Unlike my foolish brothers, I personally would never resort to barbaric practices such as latching on right away. Even when it comes to sucking blood, there are certain rules one must adhere to. Try and think of table manners, for example. You must follow a certain order, starting from the aperitif, then the soup (1). There is simply nothing more wasteful than having a meal without following the proper etiquette. Unfortunately, my siblings do not seem to understand even such a simple thing. I wonder if those imbeciles are simply incapable of understanding why Father has us organize those dinner banquets in the first place? Of course, I am sure that part of him hopes for us brothers to have an enjoyable time together.”

You tilt your head to the side.

[02:06] “After all, human food is not something our bodies originally require. We are still Vampires in the end. Now if you were to ask me why we consume it despite that, I personally think it connects to attaining a deeper understanding of human customs. While you humans are prey in our eyes, we are protecting our own home by taming humans and blending in with them in their world. After all, if we are speaking in terms of overall numbers, we are largely outnumbered by livestock such as yourself in this world.”

[02:52] Although we do have a temporary advantage by installing fear in the hearts of humans, threatening them with the possibility of capture, in the long run, we would most likely face our demise. Because we are the minority, we have no other choice but to use our heads. Well, I’m somewhat worried you might use this against us, so let me repeat it just in case ーー Killing you is no difficult matter. “

He leans in close.

[03:36] “You value your life, do you not? ...It must not be easy for mortals such as yourself.”

Your eyes widen in fear.

TRACK 4: PUNISHMENT

“Well then, I’ve loosened the ribbon above your chest. Now, show me the base of your neck. Those who enjoy being in the spotlight will most definitely leave their own mark somewhere. Especially when they choose to remain anonymous...I am sure you understand as well, do you not? Fufu…”

*Rustle rustle*

[00:31] “That being said, it has proven to be quite the challenge to find any marks. There are none on your neck, nor your collarbone. I was convinced I would at least find one or two disgusting marks, however.”

You tell him he is overanalyzing.

“What did you just say? You mean to imply that I am wrong? Are you trying to mock me, perhaps? I can pick up a strong scent of a non-human being from you. I am investigating to find out where it is coming from.”

You protest.

[01:21] “Haah...This is infuriating. You truly are so very stubborn, failing to listen to what I am trying to say. I feel like it might be best to give you a taste of this whip at least once.”

He reaches for his whip.

“Hmph! Is it not that strange for an owner to punish its dog for misbehaving, is it? I am holding myself back right now. You should remember that very well.”

*Rustle rustle*

[01:59] “Well then, if there are none here...While it is a chore, I suppose I have no other choice but to remove your clothes. Or perhaps, they are on your legs…?”

*Rustle rustle*

“I do not see any marks at first glance.”

You flush bright red.

[02:24] “Why do you seem so flustered? I feel absolutely nothing from looking at your legs. However, just as I predicted...I have found one. Take a look at this mark on your thigh. Just as I thought, a Vampire is behind this. Hah. A modest mark like this one could not possibly be left behind by one of my silly brothers. I wonder which family they belong to…? Oh well.”

*Rustle*

“Either way...I now understand that you are the biggest trap.”

*Rustle rustle*

[03:13] “For starters, I do not like the idea that we are being watched. If this is their territory, then by remaining here, I would simply be dancing to their tune. Let us leave. It might not be easy, but I am sure we should be able to find a way to open the door. Come on, you should make haste too.”

You frown.

[03:38] “Eh? You cannot stand because you have lost the strength in your legs? Good grief...Not only did you let down your guard and let another man have his way with you (2), but you are even attempting to have me dote on you. How impudent. You will be punished once we return to the manor.”

Reiji leans down to pick you up.

“Be prepared, understood?”

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) ぜんざい or’ zenzai’ is a soup made from adzuki or red beans, usually served at the beginning of a meal. However, since this is a traditional Japanese dish, I translated it as just ‘soup’ so it would work for a larger audience. Coincidentally, having soup before the meal is rather common in the West as well.

(2) 抱く or ‘daku’ can mean both ‘to embrace’ or ‘to have sex with’ soーー I’ll leave the personal interpretation up to you guys. :p

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #reiji sakamaki #diabolik lovers more blood #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers drama cd #drama cd

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fanfics-arent-therapy-but-idc · 4 years ago

Text

Adventures of a Hybe intern📋🖇🖊

Fluff but not necessarily romantic(can be interpreted any way you want)

Enhyphen version pt.1

Heeseung👖

Walking into the office, coffees in to-go cups and I.D card in hand, you find your fellow interns and your boss staring at you suspiciously. Cautiously, you place their coffees on the empty table and take your seat. Soon you’d know why everyone in the office continued to eye you while your boss started giving the brief for today.

“Before we start today’s brief I have some urgent news. As we all know Enhypen is having their comeback photoshoot today. Well, after days of curating their wardrobes one of the set designers has decided that Heeseung’s pants, along with all of our backups, no longer fit the concept,”.

You sighed at this piece of news, pitying the poor intern who would have to scourge the crowded outfit closets or run through every botique in the neighborhood to find him some pants. You shook your head and took a ceremonial sip of your coffee in remembrance of that poor intern until you realized that you, were in fact, that intern. You silently cursed the day you applied for the internship and chose the ‘Fashion and Styling’ position, but stood up anyway.

“Just tell me what I’m looking for and I’ll find it!” You replied energetically. Behind you your coworkers snicker out of sympathy. They know you’re anything but excited to dig through piles of clothes and run them across the gigantic building but that’s what you signed up for.

“Now that’s the spirit! They’re looking for a pair of black Levi’s,” your boss responded.

As soon as you get your orders you head to the elevator and unlock your phone. Thankfully for you, Hybe has an app that connects you with all of the staff members and allows you to read all of their updates. You head to the ‘Fashion and Styling staff’ page, click the search tab, and type ‘Black Levi’s’. The most recent update from one of the guys who organizes the closets says that he placed all of the jeans in the first closet on the eighth floor. Speed walking towards the elevator you stop at the crowded elevator and your shoulders drop so low that your crossbody bag slips.

Crowding around the open elevator were a herd of trainees filming what you assumed to be a dance video. Why in an elevator?! You question internally and run the opposite direction towards the stairs. Running up the countless steps you finally make it to the eighth floor, short of breath and time. Quickly opening the first closet door, you smile slightly at the extremely organized closet (you would have to buy this closet organizer a gift card or something). Opening your phone once more to a different app, you find out Heeseung’s size in jeans and then begin your hunt for the black Levi’s. After carefully rummaging through hangers and drawers the black pair of jeans appear and you release the breath that you’ve been holding.

As you run down the steps, you decide to update your profile and let everyone know where the black Levi’s are. Updating profiles was the only way the large company stayed organized so you thought it very important to update your profile as soon as possible. Mere seconds after pressing ‘post’, your phone leaves your hands, but soon your body follows suit as your feet crisscrossed and you, your phone, and the jeans that brought you to this cruel fate we’re headed face first towards the third floor clearing.

You shut your eyes so as not to watch yourself fall onto the concrete floor, taking a few moments to realize that you had stopped falling for a while but still hadn’t slammed to the floor. Come to think of it, your phone hadn’t made the soul crushing crack sound that you heard way too often. You open your eyes to find yourself in the right arm of a tall stranger; your phone, safe and sound in their other hand.

Disoriented, you grab your phone from their hand and try to continue your task but you start wobbling almost immediately after your first step. The kind stranger grabs your hand again to make sure you don’t fall… again. Taking a deep breath you gain your balance and turn to thank the stranger and find that cursed pair of jeans; only when you open your mouth to say thank you, a comically large gasp escapes your mouth. Why am I staring at LEE HEESEUNG right now?! You start to think that maybe you did fall and now your subconscious was playing tricks on you, but the grip that he had on your wrist felt real and so did the crumpled pair of black pants he was holding.

“Are you alright? I was just walking when I saw a bunch of stuff falling from the stairs, and then I saw you trip so I tried to grab you. Are you alright?” He repeats as you stare at him in silence. He was wearing a peach pink sweater vest and a fake nose ring with a pair of ‘Winne the Pooh’ pajama pants and some slippers. Suddenly you find the words to speak a sentence.

“Those pants are actually for you, haha!” You laughed awkwardly. Heeseung looked down at his arms and laughed sincerely, the corners of his eyes squinting up in a way that relaxed you.

“Oh, okay then thank you! I’ve been in my pajama pants so long, haha,” he replied kindly. You smiled at his good nature surrounding the situation and thought you should pay him a compliment

“Well… at least they’re a really pretty pair of pajamas. Thank you for saving my life just now. I would have hated to lose such a cool internship to some broken bones,” you say with sincerity.

“Hey, no need to thank me! I would want someone to do the same for me. I have to get back now, but I hope we get to see each other again before your internship ends. …oh, and you can use the elevator now, the trainees are done filming their Tik Tok,” he added. You give a nod of understanding and wave him and those nightmare pants goodbye.

Making your way to the empty elevator, you meet your coworker who smirks at your disheveled appearance. “How did the clothing scavenger hunt go?”

Running to catch up to them in the open elevator you shrug and start fixing your hair.

“Eh, it wasn’t that bad”.

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spiderling-space · 4 years ago

Note

Hi and welcome to the fandom. May I please ask for headcanons for the first years reactions on discovering that fem MC who is also they're crush, is a rhythmic gymnast.

Ngl, I had to check what rhythmic gymnast is. I learned a new phrase today. I thought every gymnasts did artistic one. The women, their dresses and their dances are so pretty??? All the shining outfits 😍😍😍😍

Warning: there is a tiny Ace’s Ghost Marriage Suit Story Part 2 spoiler in the last bullet point of Jack

PS: I feel like everyone in TW has tsundere tendencies

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

Ace Trappola

This guy has hard time admitting his true feelings. He knows how he feels but he thinks showing his true emotions is weak.

Ace knows he is crushing on (Y/N). What is he doing? Confessing his feelings? Dude no that’s ridiculous thing to say.

What he does is to mess around with (Y/N).

When he thinks she has nice hair, instead of telling her that he messes with her hair just like kindergarten boy.

(Y/N) think he should be the one in kindergarten.

One day she gets fed up with his childish attitude. “You know what, Ace? I am a professional rhythmic gymnast; been practicing it as long as I know of myself.” — “Eh? What’s that supposed to mean?” — “I’ll leave it your interpretation...”

(Y/N) yeets herself away, leaving Ace alone who wonders what rhythmic gymnast is.

Ace searches internet to learn about it throughout.

When he concludes his research, he tries to understand what (Y/N) meant.

Was she threatening him because he noticed the gymnasts having strong arm and leg muscles?

Or was she flirting with him because the gymnasts were flexible?

Ace is flushed either from fear or another emotion.

He plans to conduct a scheme to get (Y/N) to perform rhythmic gymnastics.

He just wants to see if her performance is similar to the ones he saw on Internet.

Whether or not he thought about how the gymnast’s suit would look on her is unclear.

♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️

Deuce Spade

It took some time for Deuce to talk with an actual girl. He literally couldn’t speak with (Y/N) at first.

He doesn’t know how it started but he began wanting to spend more time with her, preferably alone, trying to come up with random topics to start talking with her and when she isn’t around, he asks Grimm where she is

When he tells his mother this predicament, his mother is walking on air

“My baby is growing up so fast! Next thing I know you’ll marry that girl!”

Deuce is flustered “W-w-what are you saying mother?” Cue to his mom telling him he has a crush on you.

When Deuce comes to terms with it, he googles (Y/N)’s name and sees her name in a MagiTube video. He clicks on it and sees that she is a rhythmic gymnast!

He watches all the videos of hers.

Next time he sees her, he can’t look her in the eyes because he saw her in her glory!

He feels unprepared to confess his feelings. In a way he is correct because he can’t speak with her again.

🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺

Jack Howl

Jack is going to Ramshackle to visit to strictly check up on (Y/N). No sir there is absolutely no other reason behind it.

My goodness he is a tsundere. He will never admit he has feelings for (Y/N); maybe he doesn’t even realize it.

When he reaches Ramshackle, his ears pick up a song coming from backyard.

He checks it out and sees (Y/N) jumping around with a ribbon on her hands.

He first thinks it’s a form of martial art so he observes how it is done.

For a moment he suspects it’s not a martial art but a sort of dance when he sees the way she twists her body. Then he dismisses it because only martial arts would require that much leg and core strength right?

When (Y/N) finishes her routine, Jack comes to her side.

With a blush on her cheeks “Were you watching me?” — “I didn’t want to interrupt your training.” — “Training?”

(Y/N) explains what she was doing then Jack becomes more curious about it and asks more questions.

He may not want to admit it but he wants to learn about (Y/N)’s interests, wanting to know her better. After all, in his culture there is only one partner in their whole lives which was something he wasn’t thinking about while chatting with her.

🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎

Epel Felmier

Epel comes from country side where wasn’t many other activities to do other than farming.

When (Y/N) mentions she is a rhythmic gymnast, he thought it was something had to do with rhythm games he heard about.

“I thought it was called gamer?” — “Huh?” — “Aren’t you calling yourself rhythmic gymnast because you play rhythm games professionally?”

Oh sweet child of mine, Epel is embarrassed when he learns what it really means.

(Y/N) shows some of her performances.

Epel watches each video attentively, mesmerized by the beauty of her moves.

A cute blush spreads over his cheeks as sees her outfit and make up. Everything about her beautiful.

Epel now can understand how he ended up in Pomefiore, seeing beauty in (Y/N)’s performance. In fact he sees beauty in everything she does and he doesn’t know why, assuming that it was Vil and Rook’s influence on him because they talk about beauty all the time.

When (Y/N) asks if he wants to see her practice, his heart starts to beat faster for some reason.

Epel doesn’t trust his voice to not crack so he only nods

Epel needs to be given The Talk to find out what that feeling is. Who will though? Vil? Rook? Leona?

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek doesn’t have free time much. He is either guarding Malleus, training or studying. Recently he discovered (Y/N) is his type!

So as the most logical thing, he invites (Y/N) to training.

He doesn’t affirm the fact he wanted to show off his forming muscles and training to (Y/N).

(Y/N) accepts the offer and brings her equipment. She wore her gymnast outfit before coming to Diasomnia.

When she arrives to training center, there is only Sebek there, apparently Silver fell asleep again.

Sebek is displeased

He sees the small bag (Y/N) is carrying and asks about it.

“You invited me to train correct? I thought I could also train for rhythmic gymnastics competition.”

Sebek has never heard a competition such that.

“You’ve never seen one??? Le shock! Worry not, my friend, I’ll show you.”

(Y/N) takes off her coat and Sebek has almost an heart attack.

“HUMAN, WHERE ARE REST OF YOUR CLOTHING?!?!”

(Y/N) got used to Sebek’s booming voice. “It’s what gymnast wear, Sebek. Also I have clubs!” She takes them out of the bag and plays a song on her phone to get in the mood.

(Y/N) starts slowly but as the seconds pass, she performs complex moves.

Sebek is astonished! He had never seen such elegant and graceful movements. He didn’t think (Y/N) would be that strong, agile and coordinated.

He also wonders if she has all the bones in her body because he doesn’t think a normal human could bend their back as much as she does.

(Y/N) starts to do jumping tricks.

“DON’T LOOK AT HER!!!”

Sebek’s unexpected yell causes (Y/N) to fall on her butt.

She rubs the place as she checks out why Sebek yelled.

She understands the reason once she spots Silver.

Before Sebek could have time to adjust the idea of wearing a tight fitting, revealing body suit, Silver showed up! Of course he will try to cover Silver’s eyes!!!

——————————————————————————

I honestly think all TW boys are a bit old fashioned, especially Diasomnia hshshw

#ace trappola #deuce spade #jack howl #epel felmier #sebek zigvolt #heartslabyul #savanaclaw #pomefiore #diasomnia #female reader #headcanons

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five-rivers · 4 years ago

Text

Long Night in the Valley chapter 8

A young man walked in. His hair was dark, the style conservative. The only thing that stood out about him was his high-collared jacket.

Aizawa knows who this man is, for much the same reasons that Uraraka knew Skyrunner.

Fidelity had literally written the book on underground heroism. It hadn’t been published until his death.

The lights flickered. The murmuring of the shadows rose, then cut off abruptly, the shadows disappearing along with Nana. The projector screen changed. It now read:

Greetings 9’s Friends! (And teacher.)

“This was my last mission briefing before I died,” said the young man. “At least, that’s what I’d say if I was really Fidelity.”

“You’re saying you aren’t,” said Aizawa, keeping his voice level.

The screen behind him changed to read Vestiges: what you need to know.

“I am based on Fidelity. I’m also based on Railgun.”

“The hero who took down Destro?” asked Uraraka, clenching her fists and briefly floating in excitement.

Why was she not getting a better grade in history?

“Not exactly. He wasn’t actually captured until years later.”

“But you broke his charge, his army! And all by yourself!”

“Railgun did, yes. I’ve put together a little presentation for you guys. Hope you don’t mind. We all figured you wouldn’t want to go any further without an explanation of sorts.” He said this all with an enviably flat voice, despite his friendly words. His body language was controlled and to the point.

Darn Midoriya for managing to build a fantasy that was so close to what Aizawa had always imagined the man to be like.

(He was not a fan of Fidelity. Underground heroes did not have fans. It defeated the point.)

(He pointedly ignored his memories of the bootleg Eraserhead merchandise Midoriya and Yamada had snuck to Eri.)

“You’d be right,” said Aizawa.

“Cool,” said Six. “Before we begin, I want you to understand that much of what I’m going to tell you will be a lie.”

“What?” said Iida, confused. “Then what’s the point?”

“The point is, there will be enough truth in it to get you through this safely, and enough falsehood to prevent the commission from taking advantage of Nine later, should they be watching what’s happening here with a quirk we can’t detect.”

“Nine?”

“Izuku,” clarified Six.

“Who you called Nine because…?”

“If we count in order of when we were supposedly born, he’s the ninth. Although, really, he’s the first. I’ll explain in a moment.” He pointed to the screen. “We call ourselves vestiges, and, like I said, we are all based on real people. We’re part of Nine’s quirk.” The screen switched to show Midoriya with eight shadowy figures behind him. “I want to stress that Nine wasn’t aware of us until the sports festival. Specifically…”

The screen now showed Midoriya’s fight with Hitoshi, right before he broke his fingers. Aizawa recognized the image as a still from one of the cameras. Except those eight shadows were there as well, right in front of Midoriya.

“You had something to do with him breaking his fingers and getting out of Shinsou’s quirk.”

“We don’t mix well with mental quirks, apparently. Nine minds all together at once are too many, even if eight of them are fictional. It’s an interesting side effect. Speaking of which.”

The new slide was a picture. An edited picture. Of a person giving a presentation.

“Is that a meme?” asked Todoroki.

“Yes,” said Six.

The slide read, You were never in All Might’s mind. Nine was just confused.

That meme was so old Aizawa could feel himself taking psychic damage just by looking at it.

“You’ve been passing through our, the vestiges’, mindscapes. Eight is simply based on All Might.”

That would be a relief, if not for the fact that that Six had admitted he was going to lie. Also, there was something off about the whole explanation.

Iida raised his hand. “Excuse me! You claim that you are part of Midoriya’s quirk, but you haven’t explained how!”

“I’m getting to that,” said Six. “Todoroki-san, you’re the one who is always saying how similar Nine and All Might’s quirks are. Do you have any theories?”

Todoroki’s eyes lit up, even though he kept his habitual deadpan expression. “Midoriya is All Might’s secret—”

“We wish, but sadly no. Pick a different one.”

Todoroki looked devastated. He collected himself quickly, however. “Midoriya’s strength,” he said, “he got it from All Might, didn’t he?”

“Yes. Eight is a bit of a complicated case, since he’s based on someone who is alive and Nine knows personally, but in the end, he’s the same as the rest of us.”

“He said something about receiving Skyrunner’s quirk, earlier,” said Uraraka.

“And Blackwhip…” said Iida.

“You’re getting it,” said Six. “Blackwhip originally belonged to Five, incidentally.”

“He has a copy quirk,” concluded Aizawa.

Six nodded. The screen changed. “Right now, Nine has four quirks, three of which he can use freely. Superpower, Blackwhip, and Float,” he read the quirk names off the screen.

“And he’s going to get more?” asked Aizawa.

“Eventually,” said Six. “We don’t want to overload his body—This whole process only kicked off when he met All Might.”

“And why you?” asked Aizawa. “Why All Might, Skyrunner and these… Five others?”

“I would like to tell you,” said Six. He raised a finger and waved it in a circle to indicate outside listeners.

“What are the drawbacks?” asked Aizawa.

“Hm?”

“The drawbacks. I get dry eyes when I use my quirk. Present Mic is deaf. Vlad is anemic. A quirk like this one has to have a drawback.”

“What, the broken bones aren’t enough for you? Or the fact he didn’t hit on the activation conditions until he was fourteen?”

Aizawa stared, unimpressed.

A tiny corner of Six’s mouth made itself visible over the collar of his coat. “Well. I think you can make some conclusions but, again…” He trailed off. “There are a few more things you should be aware of. First, Nine had no choice in who we are, although we all fulfil certain criteria.”

“Are you all relatives?” asked Todoroki.

“Man, you never do give up, do you?” said Six. “That’s a great quality in a hero.”

“Are you all heroes, then?” continued Todoroki.

The slide on the screen changed again.

Vestiges According to History:

8. Yagi Toshinori aka All Might – Hero

7. Shimura Nana aka Skyrunner – Hero

6. Tenma Rokuya aka Fidelity/Railgun – Hero

5. Banjo Daigoro aka Lariat – Hero

4. Vigilante

3. Terrorist

2. Terrorist

1. Unknown

“Unfortunately,” said Six, “no.”

Toshinori caught sight of the feathers first. He had more experience as a hero, and, as he was no longer the primary user of One for All, the mental strain he was experiencing was much lower, comparatively. His awareness of his surroundings was better.

Stay calm. Don’t speak. Don’t run.

Hawks could receive sensory input from his feathers, though neither Toshinori nor Izuku knew how much. Better to be safe than sorry.

We need to get out of the city.

Out of the country, too, for that matter, as much as it would hurt Izuku—

They couldn’t leave all their friends behind to face Shigaraki.

A compromise could be reached. They knew a few places—An island, near—

But first, the city. The first priority was to evade pursuit.

A bus pulled into the stop ahead of them, and they got on. If they could get outside city limits, where there were fewer people, fewer witnesses, Izuku could float them away. Also, Hawks was less likely to trap his feathers on a bus.

We might be dealing with the Hawks problem earlier than thought.

Izuku slouched back on the bus seat, covering his eyes. Toshinori looked up at the ceiling. The Hawks problem. AKA, the others’ theory that Hawks had been raised as a child soldier, and Toshinori had missed the signs.

Izuku put his hand on Toshinori’s knee.

“I can’t believe it,” said one of the other passengers, a few rows ahead of them. “I really just can’t believe it. It’s like something from a horror story.”

“What?” asked someone else.

“Look!”

“Someone kidnapped All Might?”

The bus filled with chatter.

Toshinori still couldn’t believe people thought Izuku kidnapped him. The reality was closer to the opposite, honestly. He’d have to apologize to Izuku’s mother…

There was a tiny incensed gasp from Izuku, and Toshinori saw Izuku glaring up at him. Izuku made a series of gestures that could probably have been interpreted as ‘You can’t kidnap anyone, you’re All Might!’ even without the psychic link they were currently enjoying, then went into an enthusiastic tangent about how the commission was probably playing up the ‘crazy stalker fan’ angle.

Toshinori sighed, ruffled Izuku’s hair, and studiously avoided any and all thoughts about what he’d done to Aldera Middle School after Izuku had shown up to training with a black eye and bloody nose that one time.

“What?” squeaked Izuku, his eyes gone very wide.

Drat.

Out of the corner of his eye, Toshinori saw three passengers near the front of the bus stand up and felt his heart drop. One of them had an obvious eagle mutation, the second had a bulging, almost spherical, neck, and the third had broad, flat-ended fingers.

Decades of hero experience told Toshinori exactly what was going to happen next. Even before the guns came out.

“Well,” said the eagle-headed man, “with all the heroes looking for the ‘Symbol of Peace,’ I guess this is our lucky day!”

“Nobody move!” demanded the man with the round neck. “This is a hijacking!”

Izuku let out an incredulous grunt next to him, but Toshinori could literally feel his mind whirring at a thousand miles a minute, analyzing the quirks of the hijackers and possible motives.

Really. There was no way they weren’t going to help.

“By the way, not all of Nine is awake, so, out in the real world his body is operating according to consensus.”

“Consensus of…” said Aizawa, not wanting to finish the thought as he stared at the two entries labeled ‘terrorist.’

“All nine of us together, yes.”

“That’s a pretty big drawback,” said Aizawa, his voice rasping against his throat.

“Eh. It has its benefits. Besides, Three and Two lived over a hundred years ago. We didn’t even have the hero system back then. Things change.”

“Excuse me!” said Iida, raising his hand. “Why don’t the last four—the first four? —have names?”

“They asked me not to share them with you quite yet,” said Six. “Don’t call Three a terrorist though. That’s a bit of a sore spot with her.” He looked off to the side.

“And the quirks?” said Aizawa, hanging on to the very last bit of his will to live by the tips of his fingers. “The ones I’m presumably going to have to teach Midoriya how to use?”

“Right.”

Our Splendiferous Quirks

8. Yagi Toshinori aka All Might – Hero. Quirk: Superpower.

7. Shimura Nana aka Skyrunner – Hero. Quirk: Float.

6. Tenma Rokuya aka Fidelity/Railgun – Hero. Quirk: Internet Perception.

5. Banjo Daigoro aka Lariat – Hero. Quirk: Blackwhip.

4. Vigilante. Quirk: Danger Sense.

3. Terrorist

2. Terrorist

1. Unknown

Aizawa was not surprised to see the last four entries, once again, had little information attached.

“You know,” said Uraraka, “if you ignore the terrorists, this actually makes sense.”

“If you ignore the terrorists?” asked Iida, incredulous.

“I mean, think about who we’ve seen so far.”

“It is like Midoriya to have a split personality based on All Might,” agreed Todoroki. Because split personalities were going to be his go-to theory, now that figments of Midoriya’s quirk’s imagination had shot down his ‘Dadmight’ conspiracy.

“If you want to think of us as split personalities, sure,” said Six. “We really don’t interact that much with the outside, though.”

“And Skyrunner is basically supermom,” said Uraraka. “Like, if she was All Might’s mentor, it makes sense that that’s what he’d envision her as.”

“Ah,” said Iida, “so she reminds you of Midoriya-san as well?”

Aizawa noticed Six shift uncomfortably and look away but decided he honestly did not want to know.

“Oh, and you,” said Uraraka, spreading her hands to indicate Six, “are kind of like Aizawa-sensei!

“Except with more memes,” said Todoroki.

“Yeah, except with more memes,” agreed Uraraka.

Six faked a cough into his fist. “Anyway, I think that’s everything… No, wait. Hawks.”

“Hawks,” repeated Aizawa.

“Yeah. We’re pretty sure he was raised and conditioned to be a slave for the commission from a very young age.” Another pause. Six turned to face Todoroki. “Also, Dabi is probably your dead older brother, Todoroki Touya.”

“Oh,” said Todoroki.

“What,” said Aizawa.

“We’d just like someone in a position to do things with this information to have it. Even if we were sure Nine would retain all this, he, ah. The commission is doing a very good job of trashing his reputation.”

“Is this revenge?” whispered Todoroki. “Did I push Midoriya too far?”

“Kid, you could beat Nine up on a weekly basis for ten years, and he’d still barely think of revenge. Come on, I need to take you guys to Five.”

Barely, he said. Meaning, he did think about revenge. They had to get out of here fast; Bakugo’s life was in danger.

There were lives in danger. A simple robbery wouldn’t require this kind of setup. These three needed hostages for some reason.

Or… Izuku traced the direction the three villains kept looking to the college student in the corner. The young woman’s clothing was high quality, and she looked vaguely familiar.

He couldn’t help but be exasperated. Shigaraki Tomura was running around out there somewhere, and these guys were doing… whatever this was. Causing problems. He and Toshinori would have to try and evade Hawks after this.

But exasperation wasn’t going to keep these people safe.

Eagle-head looked like the leader at first glance, but on closer inspection, he was taking cues from the man with the squared-off fingers. The man with the round neck seemed to have a body expansion quirk of some type, possibly similar to Kendo’s, considering how his joints pulsed and how his clothing was designed with extra folds.

… He’d shown Toshinori a catalogue with similar clothing, once. But Toshinori had said that the ill-fitting look added to his disguise.

In the tight confines of the bus, that would be dangerous. The best thing to do to him would be to throw him out when the bus came to a stop.

The quirk of the man with the square finger was a problem. It was probably an emitter type, rather than a transformation type. Something to do with his hands, perhaps?

Honestly, the best thing to do for all of them, at least with regards to the people on the bus, would be to toss them off and then get the driver to gun it. But then, what about people on the street? These guys didn’t have any scruple against taking hostages, obviously.

“Hey, you, hand over the briefcase,” said the man with the round neck.

Izuku glanced at Toshinori, who nodded. Coils of Blackwhip ran up and down his arms under the sleeves of his suit, much more controlled and complex than Izuku had managed to date.

Thanks for the help, Five.

He slammed the briefcase into the eagle-headed man’s beak. Toshinori hadn’t skimped on anything when stocking the hideout, and the metal made immensely satisfying contact with bone. Blackwhip shot out from near his elbow—like Sero—and wrapped around the hands of the gunmen, forcing their aim down.

The man with square fingers reacted first, raising his hand. Each fingertip emitted a flat, square pane that traveled in a straight line and got progressive larger. Izuku pulled, slamming the man into the back of his own shield, because really, that was too slow, and how similar was this quirk to Crust’s? Could the villain change the trajectory of his panels, or no?

Not the time.

The shield cracked as Izuku hit it from the other side, and Toshinori was throwing open the back door. The man with the expanding quirk—and it was an expanding quirk—seemed to finally realize what was happening, and lashed out, but Izuku was faster than he was. The spherical throat was evidently a weak point.

“Can you stop?” Izuku asked the bus driver, who, tense as he was, slammed down on the brakes, making Izuku stumble. He hauled the villains off the bus, Toshinori hopping off the back with the eagle-headed man a moment later.

Well, that had happened.

Izuku caught a flash of very distinctive red out of the corner of his eye.

Six stopped. “That isn’t good,” he said, looking slightly up. There was nothing there that Aizawa could see, except for a collection of pipes. They were travelling through a series of underground concrete passages in an effort to find ‘Five.’

“What is it?” asked Uraraka.

Six’s form abruptly flickered and vanished. Oh, that couldn’t be good.

“Sensei.”

Aizawa turned to see Midoriya standing behind them, wearing a truly godawful pinstriped suit. He held his right wrist in his left hand, an odd bracer wrapped around it.

“Is that the Full Gauntlet?” asked Uraraka. “Why-?”

Midoriya flashed a quick smile in her direction. “I’m sorry, sensei, this is really last minute, but I need you to tell me how to use your quirk.”

We absolutely can’t strike first.

They wanted to. They knew this would turn into a battle. The first strike was an advantage they couldn’t discount.

Win the battle and lose the war.

He could see the cell phones already out, held bystanders not quite broken from the habits gained in All Might’s era. Even with the Hero Commission already slandering him, this would affect the narrative. If he ever hoped to be welcomed back to hero society, or even the public’s good graces, in any way shape or form, he could not be seen starting a fight with a hero. Much less the current number two hero.

“I don’t suppose you’ll make my job easier and release All Might from your mind-control quirk,” said Hawks, tone conversational despite the fact he was standing at least two stories above them in the air.

“I don’t have a mind-control quirk,” said Izuku, reaching up to the knot of his tie.

“And I’m not being mind-controlled,” said Toshinori, loosening his mask.

Hawks actually paused. “Oh my gosh,” he said, raising one hand to his mouth like a scandalized housewife, “I didn’t realize that was you! What happened to your hair?”

“I… cut it off.”

“That’s, uh.” Hawks quickly regained control of his expression. “Terrible that this villain made you do that.”

Hawks’ heart wasn’t entirely in this apparently.

Just as apparently, that had no bearing on what Hawks was actually going to do.

“You’ve seen me use my quirk,” said Aizawa.

“I know, and that’ll be helpful, too, but how do you use it? What’s the feeling you get when you use it? How do you activate it? What’s the internal mechanism? This is important.”

“Why?” asked Iida. “What’s going on Midoriya?”

“It’s—” Midoriya’s form flickered. He took a deep breath. He was now wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants. “I’m in a fight right now, and it would be useful,” he reported, calmly.

“Please tell me it isn’t with my mind-controlled unconscious body,” begged Aizawa, “or the League of Villains.”

“It isn’t.”

Thank goodness.

“I’m fighting Hawks.”

Why.

No, ask questions later. The Problem Child needed help now. To fight the number two hero.

He didn’t know how knowledge about his quirk could be useful in a fight against Hawks, but the claim was far, far too stupid to be a lie.

“When I turn on my quirk, I—”

Blackwhip unfurled from his arms like a dark version of Shouji’s quirk, tearing his sleeves to shreds and dislodging the feathers that had been imbedded there. The ends wrapped around feather after feather, splitting into dozens and dozens of pseudo-arms. Izuku was amazed.

Someday, he would be able to do this on his own.

For now—

For now, he was fighting Hawks, who had trained since childhood to fight on behalf of the commission.

For now, he was a hero student, with only a few months of practical experience.

For now, he was a fugitive, on the run and desperate.

For now, he was host and member of One for All, and collectively they had been heroes for over a hundred years.

And Toshinori had his back.

They wrapped the silk tie around his knuckles. Any protection for the bones in his hands was valuable. In the other, they adjusted the briefcase. They had only rarely used weapons in the last hundred or so years. Usually, their quirks made weapons overkill.

But before that—Before that, things were different. For a while, One and Two had used swords, of all things.

This battle was much more even than it looked.

Their victory condition: Escape with Toshinori.

Their failure conditions: Civilian injury, serious injury to Izuku or Toshinori, or capture of either Izuku or Toshinori.

To avoid the first point of failure, it was best for them to get away from the vulnerable civilians. They didn’t want to give away float so soon in the game, so…

They grabbed the edge of a building with Blackwhip and launched Izuku upwards, flinging feathers away from him. Toshinori would follow and provide the group with a second perspective.

Hawks did not expect to be joined in the air. An incredulous smile graced his lips. Izuku smiled back and catapulted himself directly into Hawks.

“You know,” he said, “I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you smile for real!”

“What?” asked Hawks, startled. He wasn’t one to have meaningful conversations with people he was supposed to bring in, but a statement like that had to be responded to.

Even if most of his attention was on the quirk that Midoriya controlled with much more proficiency than indicated by his school records. The kid was good, had good instincts when it came to battle, but he wasn’t quite fast enough to get past Hawks’s guard, or to really close the distance between them.

“Your smile!” said Midoriya. “When I was younger, I didn’t realize it, but once I knew the truth behind All Might’s smile, I understood!”

“Did you, now?” asked Hawks.

“Underneath,” said Midoriya, “your face is a lot like Todoroki’s! It’s—”

Conversation during a battle was usually a distraction, to the person employing it as a tactic as well as the target. Somehow, though, Midoriya was subverting that rule.

“It’s actually really sad!” exclaimed Midoriya, breathless, but apparently genuine, not mocking. “Who hurt you?”

“Heh,” said Hawks. This kid knew. How? “Shouldn’t I be the one asking questions here?”

“Gotta hand it to the commission, they really did a number on you,” said Midoriya, briefly touching down on a rooftop. “Why do you keep doing their dirty work for them?”

He was using that second quirk, but not his strength. Was it a matter of ‘won’t’ or ‘can’t?’ Either way, it was something to keep an eye on.

“Why don’t you—” Hawks briefly managed to pin Midoriya by the edge of his jacket, but the boy tore free easily. “—fly free?”

“You’re one to talk,” said Hawks. “What did you trade to All for One for those quirks?” He didn’t actually believe Midoriya was in league with All for One. Even tangentially, through proxies, they’d been at odds too many times, not to mention the videos he’d been shown by the commission of Midoriya and All Might interacting. The connection there couldn’t be faked.

He’d know. He’d tried so many times.

(Was trying now, with the League of Villains.)

(Midoriya wasn’t one of them.)

But he had a job to do.

Besides. Even he had to admit the commission had a point. The quirks had to come from somewhere.

(Just because Midoriya didn’t willingly associate with All for One didn’t mean he hadn’t been forced. Didn’t mean he hadn’t gotten out.)

(All Might was protecting him. How did they know each other?)

“Wouldn’t you take any hand offered to you if the person behind it offered to make you what you always wanted to be?”

Midoriya tilted his head to one side. “Nope!” he responded, cheerfully.

On the street below, Toshinori coughed, blood splattering his sleeve. What had Izuku been doing when he was younger, to get involved with so many dangerous and disturbing people?

It wasn’t my fault!

Kid really is a trouble magnet.

Oh, heck, I think I recognized that one—

Really, with that sharp mind, and Izuku’s propensity for both curiosity, helpfulness, and, well, finding trouble, it was a miracle he’d stayed alive for so long.

Wouldn’t call it a miracle, sonny—

HAHA I can’t believe he thought that was a dream.

In his defense, a dream makes more sense than—

Guys. Focus, please?

Yes. This was not the time to discuss… that. Now… Well. Toshinori had a role he could play in this battle, even as he was, and—

Hawks and Izuku’s path over the rooftops mapped itself out in his mind.

Oh, no.

Izuku wasn’t evading Hawks.

He was being herded by him.

They tucked and rolled across the pavement, Blackwhip cocooning them and breaking their fall. This was significantly more than what Five, what Daigoro, could use back when he was alive. It took everyone’s efforts to keep everything going.

Wait for it, they reminded themselves, bouncing back to Izuku’s feet.

Izuku looked up. This… was not a good position. Hawks had forced them into the entertainment district. They couldn’t trust that the fancy facades and art instalations of the buildings would hold up to Blackwhip. Not to mention, in places like this… He glanced around.

Fourth Kind.

Kesagiriman.

Slugger.

Death Arms.

There would be more, soon. This was… less than good. Maybe they should just grab Toshinori’s body and launch themselves with Blackwhip and Float, as far as they could. They’d lose a lot of their advantage on Hawks, but at least then they wouldn’t be fighting five different heroes.

Izuku gritted his teeth in something like a smile. Five different heroes. Well. Nine on five wasn’t bad odds.

Suzuku pulled himself along the ground, trembling. He had been falling for—for ages by the time that witch woman had disappeared. Why she had disappeared, he couldn’t guess, but…

Falling.

So much falling.

And hitting the ground again, and again, and again.

You invaded our minds, said the woman, don’t complain when we counter with something psychological as well.

Something like a laugh bubbled up from his throat.

You can leave whenever you want, can’t you?

He’d show her. He’d show her and find all her secrets. Just see if he didn’t.

Fourth Kind, Kesagiriman, Slugger, and Death Arms all had very physical, straightforward quirks. Out of all of them, though, Death Arms was probably the most problematic, followed by Slugger and his long-range attacks.

None of them held a candle to Hawks, of course. Which was the reason why Death Arms in particular was so problematic.

In order to deal with Hawks’s feathers, they needed Blackwhip. But using Blackwhip and One for All’s signature superstrength at the same time wasn’t something Izuku’s body was used to. They were limiting it to small bursts. Death Arms’ own physical enhancement quirk, while miniscule compared to One for All’s current stature, was nothing to sneer at.

If Death Arms—or any of the other heroes—landed a solid blow, that could be it for Izuku.

They refused to be locked away again.

That’s when it happened.

A scene played across Izuku’s inner eye:

A frosty morning. A little boy with dark hair. A farewell. Tears.

He flubbed the landing and a sharp pain lanced through his ankle. Blackwhip wrapped it, giving it much needed support.

He started to rise, only to drop to avoid one of Slugger’s patented Home Run Pitches (tm).

The ball spun, ricocheting off the stainless steel of an art installation before drilling right through a wooden beam on a bit of scaffolding holding up part of a building that was being refurbished. Izuku let out a breath of relief (there were still people around who hadn’t learned how to run away from a dangerous fight) before they returned to the dance with Hawks’s impressively huge number of feathers.

Blackwhip could keep up with them, barely, but Izuku was tiring. He couldn’t take much more of this.

He needed an opening to get to Toshi—

Another scene:

She couldn’t be pregnant. Not now. Not right after giving away another. The next time Sorahiko suggested drowning her troubles in sake, she was going to shove it straight up his blowholes, no matter that he was probably just as drunk as she was.

This slip almost resulted in Izuku getting his face punched in by Death Arms. Considering what he’d just learned, he’d almost welcome that fate, if it made him forget. Plus, it might have been funny for the ultimate battle of ultimate destiny, the show down between One for All and All for One, to take place between not one, but two potato-headed individuals—

There was a sharp crack from above as the damage Death Arms had done to the scaffolding made itself known.

Izuku didn’t have to think before moving.

“Alright,” said Midoriya. “I think I’ve got it. Thank you, sensei.” He looked young, now. Barely primary school age.

“I’d feel a lot better,” said Aizawa, “if I knew what you needed this information for.”

“Oh! That’s simple. You see, it’s my theory that the overlap in mechanisms between my quirk and Saito-san’s might allow for interesting emergent behaviors. Specifically, her quirk bridges a gap I’d normally have no way of crossing, although there’s certainly drawbacks. It’s like what we tried earlier, when I asked you to use your quirk. Although, I am hoping for different results than what I was looking for back then. I think, with what you’ve given me, and this processing time… Yes, this should work.” He clenched a fist. “These remnants—I can use them!”

Remnants. Vestiges.

Aizawa frowned. Something… something wasn’t right, here. The explanation Six had given them…

“Just keep going this way, for now. Six will try to get back to you as soon as possible. I have to go now! I love you guys!”

He then faded out. While waving.

“Wow,” said Uraraka. “Izuku-kun sure was a cute kid.”

Aizawa couldn’t argue with that.

“Aizawa-sensei,” said Todoroki. “You’re blushing.”

He wouldn’t lower himself to argue with that. “This conversation is illogical. Let’s go.”

“Sensei is weak to little kids,” observed Todoroki.

And if they ever discovered they could remove the ‘little’ in that sentence and have it still be accurate, he’d never live it down.

Hawks saw the eyes first, shining through the dust like two perfect green coins. Then every one of his feathers went dead, and he started to fall.

Sensation returned just in time for him to avoid hitting the ground at speed and, just as quickly, vanished again.

A breeze blew cleared the dust away.

Midoriya Izuku stood under the collapsed scaffolding, holding it up with black tendrils and sparking green arms. If this scene had been all that there was, an observer might be forgiven for wondering why he was holding up the scaffolding like that.

But Hawks knew. If Midoriya hadn’t caught the scaffolding, even he wouldn’t have been able to get those civilians out from underneath it in time. He glanced to the side, where the almost victims were standing up. Normally, he’d just trust his feathers, but…

“Is that Eraserhead’s quirk?”

“Don’t worry, I asked Eraserhead-sensei for permission, first.”

“What kind of monster—” started Death Arms.

“Don’t you dare, Mister ‘my quirk isn’t suitable.’” Midoriya shifted the scaffolding to one side and shrugged himself out from underneath it. “As heroes, aren’t you supposed to consider the civilians around you?” He laughed. “I guess we’re still a little bitter about that.”

Izuku was putting on a good show, but he was reaching the end of his endurance. Plus, he could already hear the sirens of police cars and the exclamations that followed large groups of heroes on the move.

Good thing, then, that Toshinori was about to round the corner in three… two… one… There!

To an outsider, Blackwhip wrapping around Toshinori probably looked violent. In reality, everyone operating the quirk was intimately aware of everything wrong with Toshinori’s body and did not want to add to his problems. They could have probably grabbed an egg like this.

Grabbing the newly-exposed concrete and rebar of the building behind Izuku, they launched themselves up. At the top of their arc, they activated Float. Blackwhip reeled Toshinori in, and they held onto each other as Izuku prepared to use air pressure to launch themselves forward.

He hadn’t blinked yet.

His eyes really hurt.

(And so did everything else.)

He aimed and kicked against the air, sending them soaring away.

They had escaped.

Tomura ducked behind the wall at the top of the building, glad that his party had put so many points into stealth, because he was not touching what had just happened with a ten-foot pole. He’d rather be shot again. He’d rather fight Machia for a week straight with no rest breaks. He’d rather listen to Sensei try to give him the birds and the bees talk.

What was that? Huh? What kind of a broken character build allowed for that kind of combat ability? The mods had to be asleep. If he were in charge, he’d nerf it, pronto.

That was a lie. He’d take it for himself.

Still.

“Uh, Shigaraki? Boss man? You okay there?” asked Spinner.

“No,” decided Shigaraki.

Suddenly, making all of them jump, Toga squealed. “Did you see him? Did you see Izuku-kun? He was so cute with his nose bleeding like that!”

“Hey,” said Dabi, “are we going after the green kid or what?”

“No,” decided Shigaraki, for the second time in as many minutes. And then, “Gimme the phone. We need to call the doctor to get us out of here.”

They did, but that was pretty much secondary to his primary objective, which was to cuss out the doctor concerning the cursed knowledge that was currently trying to escape his skull with a pickaxe.

“Um,” said Inko. “Aren’t you going to get that?” She pointed at the phone that had been buzzing on the table for the past several minutes.

“No,” said Garaki, pretending to sip at his tea. “You were saying?”

#bnha #boku no hero academia #fic #fanfic #long night in the valley

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lawgrain · 3 years ago

Text

Okay hold onto your safety goggles ’m ‘bout to go off on a topic here.

I’ve seen random posts about how there's a stigma with people in ao3 fandoms. And there is. 100% so don’t get me wrong with this post, I won’t pretend that there isn’t a stigma from people in ao3 fandoms. But I am about to argue the complete other side of things real quick. Yep, I’m going into sports.

Before I get into sports I think it should be fully addressed that there is so much hypocrisy on both sides of the two very different types of fandoms, one being the types of fandom you find on ao3 and the other being sport fanbases. People in ao3 fandoms are quite made fun of for their avid fandom activites despite said passion also applies to sports fans even if its shown in different ways. On the flip side, a gross amount of people will also say that they don’t get sports and find it brutish and/or stupid. People on both sides discredit the other. So as a person who is primarily into ao3 fandoms, I thought it’d be fun to explain the appeal of sports in a way that non-sport fans would understand.

LETS GOOOOOOOO!!!!

Oh and for examples today, I’m using hockey. It’s just the one I actually know more context for.

So, let’s kick it off with a slight anecdote here. My friend and I had asked a guy about the appeal of sports to them and the answer we got was that it was for the stories. Which that didn’t quite click to us when there’s literally no story, its a game. They furthered this impression with talk of stats. In short, they explained it wrong because there are some fascinating stories in sports.

The problem with sports is that there's not an overly easy way to learn some of these stories. But they are there if you know the context. So for example, in a fandom there’s a shit ton of retribution moments. Some hag of a character finally, finally gets just the perfect way of being told off. Its goddamn wonderful and you love life just for a moment b/c that character got exactly what you’ve been dying to see the entire series. That happens in sports too bro. Because trust me, there are...

Plenty of hated players. And it is pretty damn exciting when a player who constantly plays dirty to get some karma.

But the problem is, if you don’t know the rules/watch the game enough, you’re not going to understand that your favorite trope just happened. For example, lets look at this guy:

This is Corey Perry. Now he’s not very well loved by everyone and he has also been known to make dirty plays. As in literally just hitting a person with his stick like in here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PorOu02IeUc

or here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lC6C10LYWZs

You can interpret these however you like. Either way, his playing style is part of what makes the next video here a bit more pleasing for fans. I’m going to explain context first though.

In hockey, there’s a penalty called embellishment. It’s used when a player dives on the ice or, more entertainingly, embellishes an injury or trying to make themselves look more hurt than they are. Players will sometimes try to embellish an injury so that their opponents get a penalty.

In this video Perry does exactly that. Some will try and say that maybe he is that hurt, but first consider how brutal hockey can actually be and this ain’t it, and that he is known to make some dirty moves. With that in mind, he basically pulls a Draco Malfoy with Buckbeak in this. Last thing to keep in mind, is that from what I’ve heard (but don’t quote me on it) he’s pulled stuff like this before. Now please enjoy his surprised Pikachu face at the end

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YO2F85RkJOY

Without any context, this either seems like an honest reaction or just sports eh. But with context, it’s quite fun. I didn’t actually care about the video until I found the context for it within the comment section. I initially watched it within a compilation though. It’s important to know what the penalty is apparently.

Also I will say, there are moments that penalty is actually infuriating and undeserved.

Changing topics, I can’t find a video of this (sports have an absurd amount of compilation videos but very little individual moment making things hard to find) buuuuut! There’s a moment between teams that I actually really liked when I found out the context of it. There was a fight that had started between two teams, as in the entire team went off, at a seemingly minor offense. The thing was the minor thing that happened was against the goalie and the opposing team had already done a lot of other icky thing in that particular game. Why is that important?

You don’t mess with the goalie.

It’s an unwritten rule of hockey but it’s got kind of a sweet sentiment? Hockey teams are generally more protective of their goalies. While there are definitely some volatile goalies, goalies aren’t typically going to be starting fights and are typically in less fights than the rest of the team ends up in. Also the goalkeeper is really important. Not only are they important but there's only two of them. In games where both goalies are injured and can't play, the team basically ends up screwed. The home team has to provide an emergency goalie if that happens and most the time that is a death sentence for the team. There are exceptions to that like this guy:

Which oh my gosh, if David Ayres isn’t one of the best stories in sports. This guy never played national league and was a zambodi driver for the maple leafs. Then he was brought in a the emergency player and helped beat the Maple Leafs. He blocked about three shots from the Maple Leafs, his employers, and the Canes won the game.

Point is, context makes a huge as difference in actually being able to enjoy stories within a game. Knowing how something is a karma moment, like with Perry, makes things click into place. Or knowing that a player has done something knowingly wrong like purposefully rushing into a goalie, makes you understand why people are mad about it. And people are mad right along with the players when they see that.

Same kind of stuff happens in fandom stories.

So I was actually going to add another hockey story but it’s actually really gory so I’m leaving it out. I’d be happy to make a separate post with what I was going to mention but that needs more warning than I can give here. So I’ll cut this short.

Anyway, my big point here was there’s actually some very interesting things within sports. I won’t act like everything has a deep meaning to it, but it’s a tad off to write off sports as just some guys throwing around a ball or hitting around a puck. People will watch this:

Or this:

Or even movies like these:

Because it gives the story with context in a drama filled way that’s clear to understand. Watching sports, the commentators don’t actually fulfill what people would need to understand the drama behind things. Watching sports can be just as drama filled and entertaining but you have to learn a lot of outside stuff.

Overall, fandoms of any kind are going to be similar in a lot of ways. Most don’t consider sports fandoms and the types of ao3 fandoms to be in the same field at all. And while I agree, that they aren’t quite in the same group, both can be entertaining for similar reasons. I just think a lot of people don’t get why sports are entertaining at all. I don’t argue that one has to find it entertaining or fall in love with sports now. All I’m meaning is that people shouldn’t just write off interests. People do that to regular fandoms all the time and attach stigmas to it. And because sports doesn’t feel like the same thing as a fandom, people in fandoms don’t seem to mind writing off the interests in sports in a similar manor. And people don’t always do that meanly but saying “You can like it, I just don’t get it” is writing it off to an extent. Because really, we can all get it to a certain degree even if it’s not out cup of tea.

That’s all! Again, let me know if anyone wants the random but kind of gory hockey knowledge I cut.

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stillbandofbrothersthirsty · 3 years ago

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As Far As Friends Go

Chapter 17 (Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4; Chapter 5; Chapter 6; Chapter 7; Chapter 8; Chapter 9; Chapter 10; Chapter 11; Chapter 12; Chapter 13; Chapter 14; Chapter 15; Chapter 16)

Emily - September - October 1944 Emily’s mind was with Nixon as she quietly crept down towards the kitchen. He had looked so disheveled wandering the halls like a madman. Emily worried that he was struggling to sleep again. She flicked on a small lamp just inside the kitchen. It provided enough light to guide the kettle. Within a moment Emily stood beside the stove waiting for the water to boil. She wanted to be careful to pull it off the burner just before it whistled. The last thing she wanted was to wake the entire house of officers before they left England for good.

A slight draft blew through the window panes just above the sink and Emily was glad she had thought to bring the tartan blanket from the foot of her bed. As she waited, she peered out the window expecting to see nothing but black. Emily imagined all the creatures that may be roaming about in the night. She had seen plenty of deer, rabbits, and even a few foxes since coming to Aldbourne. Instead of woodland animals, Emily made out the faint silhouette of someone sitting on the bench only a few yards from the manor. She squinted through the pane wondering if it was one of the officers. A speck of orange illuminated the raven night and Emily recognized the posture of the man smoking. She knew that figure, she had sat beside him for hours. Emily pulled the kettle off of the stove and filled two mugs. Clutching her blanket with one hand, Emily balanced the steaming mugs against her chest. The ceramics weren’t hot through the wool blanket but she walked quickly outside anyways, afraid the tea would cool once it hit the night air. “Hey Joe,” Emily approached Joe Toye, adjusting her grip on the mugs. It was chilly outside, but not so cold that the blanket wouldn’t suffice for warmth. The bench Joe sat on was perfect for over looking the low swooping valley below. Emily could smell the smoke from his cigarette who’s tip glowed each time he sucked at it. “Am I disturbing you?” She asked. “Emily, hey,” Joe hardly turned to look over her shoulder, “nah, take a seat.” Emily circled the bench and sat down beside him gazing off into the darkness. She held out one of the hot mugs, “tea?” she asked. Joe grimaced, but accepted the cup, “I don’t know why the tom’s are so moony over this stuff,” he said taking a tentative drink. Emily chuckled, “you don’t have to drink it.” “Eh it’s okay, thanks,” Joe flicked his cigarette to the ground. “So what’re you doing out here?” Emily asked. “I don’t know, just couldn’t sleep.” “Feeling anxious about tomorrow?” Emily kept her voice gentle. Something about Joe allowed her to immediately let her guard down. She felt totally comfortable around him but that didn’t mean he was comfortable around her. “A little bit, I don’t know.” “That’s reasonable to feel that way,” Emily said. She didn’t want to push him. Joe exhaled deeply. They sat in companionable silence for a while. A breeze rattled the leaves in the trees as if warning them of their fate. Emily much preferred the cold to the heat. She was perfectly content cocooned in her blanket with the cool air turning her cheeks red. “Would you call me a coward if I told you I was scared?” Joe’s voice was husky. Emily looked at him in surprise. “Not at all Joe! Not one bit.” Even in the dark Emily could see Joe’s Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed. “Is there something specific you’re worried about?” Emily asked gently. “I don’t wanna let anyone down,” Joe confessed into the night. “Joe, why would you say that? You’re not going to let anyone down. You’re one of the best soldiers in Easy Company.” Joe chuckled humorlessly, “I have a hard time believing that.” “It’s true,” Emily kept her voice low, “ask any guy here. You’re the one they want in their corner. You’re the one I want in my corner.” Emily wasn’t just saying that to make him feel better. She had gotten to know Joe well since Normandy and there were few people in the world she trusted more. Joe was the kind of guy who would be there for you without question. “Ugh,” Joe groaned. He ran a thick hand across his face. “Fuck. Sometimes I don’t know what I’m doing here, why I deserve to be with the best of the best.” Emily’s heart ached for him. She knew exactly how he was feeling. There were few feelings worse than doubting your own place. It was incredibly lonely. “Because you’re one of the best,” she said firmly. Joe laughed bitterly but otherwise accepted her compliment. “I honestly wonder what I’m doing here sometimes too,” Emily admitted. “Yeah?” Joe looked at her properly for the first time all night. “Yeah. I came over here a completely different person and now,” she shrugged, “now sometimes I don’t know who I am or what I’m doing.” “You’re the map girl,” Joe said matter-of-factly. Emily laughed, “oh is that what I am?” Joe allowed himself a little smile, “I mean that’s what we call you. That’s one of your nicknames at least.” Emily’s mouth dropped in mock shock, she was curious, “What? How did I not know I had nicknames! What else am I known by?” “You really wanna know?” “Yes!” “Mrs. Nixon.” A shiver ran through Emily’s body and her face grew hot. “Sorry if that embarrasses ya,” Joe said. “Why Mrs. Nixon?” Emily tried to keep her voice light. “You know there’s a real Mrs. Nixon right?” Joe shrugged, “yeah, but you’re like Captain Nixon’s work wife. You guys are always together workin’ on somethin’,” he said innocently. Emily’s muscles relaxed slightly at his explanation. “I prefer map girl,” she said. “Yeah me too, you got me all set up for Normandy.” “I’m glad you made it back,” Emily said sincerely. They exchanged a look that only two people who had been to hell and back could interpret. “Yeah,” he said. Emily inhaled deeply, pulling as much of the outside air into her lungs as she could. “I’m going to go back to bed. You should probably think about getting some sleep too.” “Yeah,” Joe said morosely. His thousand-yard stare was back, “yeah.” “Okay Joe,” Emily patted him tenderly on the shoulder, “good luck tomorrow.” “‘Night.” Emily made her way back to her bedroom where she fell into a restless sleep. The journey to Holland was much more grueling than the trip to France had been. The action was less concentrated and it took weeks for Emily to be reunited with her paratroopers. Operation Market Garden had gone poorly and her route was diverted towards Arnhem rather than the over-ambitious point across the Rhine. The 101st had managed to secure a few bridges and roadways but the initial encounter near Eindhoven had resulted in Easy Company’s retreat. When Emily finally reconnected with the 101st in Schoonderlogt she sought Nixon out for instructions. He and Winters were standing outside of the building where Easy’s second platoon was bunked up. She noticed the spot of raw red flesh on Nixon’s forehead as soon as she saw him. “What’s that?” she demanded, “wait and why do you smell like urine?”  Nixon shot Winters a dirty look but didn’t offer any explanation. Winters retold a rather jarring close call Nixon had outside Eindhoven. As Easy Company moved to retreat a bullet ricocheted off his helmet, leaving behind a burn at the top of his forehead. For all intents and purposes, Nixon was fine. He had only been left with the small red scar which was expected to fade away. Nixon thought so little of his brush with death that he had the gall to be annoyed with Winters for informing Emily about the incident. Winters, cool as ever, was uninhibited by Nixon’s attitude and explained matter of factly how shaken both he and Nixon had been in the moment. “I’m fine, it’s fine. It’s not some dramatic war story!” Nixon protested. “No,” Winters conceded, “I’m just telling her how it happened.” Emily tried to match the candid energy of the men but deep down something stirred in her: panic. She wanted to scold Nixon for not retreating quicker. She wanted to ask him so many questions like if the burn had caused him any pain. What would she have done if the bullet had penetrated the metal? She would’ve lost him. It was in that moment she realized she would not be able to cope if he had been killed. “I’m fine,” Nixon repeated firmly, looking directly in her eyes. Emily cleared her throat, “I know. You’re standing here aren’t you?” “Exactly. Plus, you’re lucky you didn’t make it here earlier. 2nd and 3rd Battalions’ C.P.s were hit in force. Major Horton was killed.” “What?” Emily asked in shock, her stomach rolled with fear. “Yeah, glad you weren’t working when the Germans hit,” Winters added. Emily had missed out on so much. Obviously, the army had gotten her over as quickly as they could but she wasn’t priority personnel and the roads were difficult to travel. She cursed her femininity. If she had been a soldier she would have been able to slip back to 2nd Battalion with greater ease. Every day throughout her journey she had encountered men who were AWOL from the hospital, trekking back to their companies, and it didn’t take them nearly a month. “By the way, Em, I think we’re gonna need you later. Dick and I have got to go meet Strayer and I’m sure he’ll have a project for me,” Nixon said. “I’ll be at HQ anyways,” Emily said, “I have some things to set up anyways.” Nixon nodded at her, “thanks.” He and Winters jumped in a jeep and drove off. Emily took the chance to take in her surroundings. Everywhere around her soldiers were bustling about unloading trucks and dodging jeeps. The dirt roads were sodden with mud. Emily looked down at her boots. This wasn’t the first time she was grateful that they were part of her uniform. She began to make her way down the road past thatched grooves and stone buildings. As she walked she made various plans in her mind for what she wanted to get done once she made it the Battalion HQ. It was difficult reconnecting with her team after so much time apart. There was no saying what they had started working on, and Emily had little clue as to the recent developments in their corner of the war. The first couple of hours would inevitably be spent playing catch up. It was an extra hurdle for her to overcome, all because she would never be authorized for jump training. Let’s keep the bitter thoughts to a minimum, she chided herself. There was no place for negative thinking in a war zone. She made it to the command post to find it bustling with officers. Colonel Sink was barking orders in the background. Emily slipped in as inconspicuously as possible and found her way to a side room where other intelligence staff members were working. “Hi Larkin,” she said to a young S-1 working over an open chest. He was pulling out stacks of papers and re-arranging them on a nearby desk. “Hi Miss Rooney,” he briefly looked up to greet her. “What’s the most recent status on things?” she asked him. “Um, we’ll be in this area for a while. Patrols are being sent out to monitor the area while we get situated. A few have already successfully taken some key crossroad points.” Emily nodded, “thanks.” Larkin was concise. It was enough information for Emily to begin to work off of. She located a map of the area and began to review the intersections surrounding Schoonderlogt and outside of Arnhem. “Has anyone been tracking what’s been secured?” Emily asked. Larkin handed her another version of the map she was looking at with few places marked in red ink. “Thanks!” Emily accepted the map. “Okay,” Nixon clapped his hands together sharply, announcing his entrance, “we’ve got some work to do. We’re assisting the British Lt. Colonel Dobie here with rescuing a bunch of his men.” Lt. Colonel Dobie stepped in behind Nixon. “Where are they?” Emily asked looking up from her map. “15 miles north of the river.” Emily tracked the map as he spoke, “Easy company will meet them on the riverbank with boats.” “What do you need from us?” Emily asked Nixon. “We need to pinpoint where exactly to place the boats. Also, we need to take a look at the enemy dispositions and area maps.” Larkin directed Nixon and Dobie to the dispositions as Emily sat by feeling somewhat useless. She hadn’t yet familiarized herself with this intelligence room and she couldn’t help but feel somewhat embarrassed that she wasn’t the one confidently assisting Nixon. She could not afford to slip, not now. The rescue mission, known as Operation Pegasus, was more than successful. It took three trips but Easy Company was able to get all of the Brits across the Rhine without incident. That night Emily could hear the men cheering from the long thatched building down the road. The allied men were celebrating another day of life in their godforsaken world and it made Emily smile to think of their joy, no matter how fleeting. But tragedy struck soon after. A jumpy private shot Moose Heyliger while on guard. Welsh had arrived at the scene. The day after the event Emily could tell Welsh was shaken. His face was gaunt with exhaustion and worry. Emily’s first instinct was to comfort him, at least in the way she would have before Normandy. But Nixon’s words from months ago rang in her head. Since then, Emily had become self-conscious of her friendship with Harry. Heading Nixon’s words she had distanced herself somewhat from the engaged man; not that he really seemed to notice. And to her surprise, she hadn’t really missed him. He was still a happy face to see around and she felt an obligation to be there for him in moments he was hurting. But she had realized that she didn’t crave his company, no more than she craved George’s or any of her other friends. Welsh was nice to have around but Emily didn’t pine for him like she thought she should’ve if she were truly in love. The weeks passed and the weather grew colder in Holland. One day Emily was reviewing the allies' advance deeper into Belgium when a quick question came up. She decided to seek out Nixon to see if he could help direct her. He wasn’t in his office so she walked down the hallway to Winters’ office which was her best guess as to where Nixon might be. The glass-paned door was open but she could hear voices conversing inside so she hung back. The office was occupied by more than just Nixon and Winters. A moment later, Bill Guarnere exited the office and Winters assistant closed the office door.   “Hiya sweetheart,” Bill said as he passed her. Emily smiled warmly at him then moved to approach the door. As she drew closer she could hear Nixon and Welsh conversing with Winters. “I’m outta here, I’m going to Rheims.” She heard Welsh’s voice through the thin door. “Strayer will be in London for at least another week for Lt. Colonel Dobie’s wedding.” Nixon was speaking now, “I personally am heading back to Aldbourne to look up a certain young lady.” Emily’s stomach sunk with Nixon’s words. She hadn’t realized he was still in touch with the woman he had been seeing in Aldbourne. There was no explanation for her feeling but the idea of Nixon traveling so far back to see his lover filled Emily with rage. What was he doing wasting his time on that woman? He was married for christ’s sake, why was this woman worth compromising that? “May I help you?” Winter’s assistant asked. Emily looked at him blankly, “uh, no, actually, never mind.” Clutching her pad folio closer to her chest she turned on her heel and marched back down the hallway.

#band of brothers #fanfiction #original character #as far as friends go #hbo band of brothers #lewis nixon #lewis nixon x oc #lewis nixon x original character #harry welsh #dick winters #crossroads #joe toye #joe toye x oc #women in ww2 #emily rooney

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lloydskywalkers · 5 years ago

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afsdgfdhgj!! thank you sm, i’m so happy to hear that :’D that is...something i do very much need to work on actually, i’ve been trying to kick the talking-self-down habit for a while now, it’s just!! it’s tough, guys.

on a lighter note, i know exactly what trope you’re talking about and i’m an unapologetic sucker for it afdsgfdh. unfortunately this probably isn’t exactly what you’re looking for, but i got bit by the idea and it wouldn’t let me go, so here’s a somewhat-short (somewhat) fic about it!

Sometimes, the ninja forget they’re technically, kind-of-sort-of, famous. Like, not all the time, because some people are creepy and won’t leave them well enough alone, and some people are just…really enthusiastic…but for the most part, it is easy to forget sometimes, because out of gi they look pretty normal.

(Until Lloyd’s eyes start shuffling through colors like a sporadic traffic light, of course, but that doesn’t happen as much now.)

The point is, sometimes it’s easy to forget that they’re famous.

Sometimes, though — when movie posters the size of the Bounty are plastered all over the city because some wise guy thought making a film about them would be a great idea — it’s harder to forget.

“This feels like an invasion of privacy,” Cole mutters, crossing his arms as he sinks deeper into the theater seat.

“Oh, yeah,” Nya says. “Because trading cards and entire news documentaries with our full names and intimate dating life details were one thing, but a loosely-based movie is where we draw the line.”

“Intimate dating life my foot,” Lloyd scowls, clearly far from getting over that one article that managed to snag a picture of him and Harumi before…everything.

“Well — yeah, fair, but like—” Cole sputters. “They hired actors to play us. They’re gonna be recreating our lives and it’s — it’s weird, okay?”

“I dunno, I think it’s pretty cool,” Kai says, already on his third mouthful of popcorn, and the trailers have’t even started yet. “I mean, it can’t be worse than that play they put on, right?”

“Don’t jinx it,” Zane mutters darkly, his eyes flashing at the reminder.

“I’m with Kai,” Jay says, bouncing in his seat as he reaches for the popcorn. “I think it’s cool that people care enough about us to make a movie, you know? Like, did you see the budget for this thing?”

“Was it as high as the repair cost for the tower we blew up last week?” Lloyd says.

“Uh…maybe. I didn’t compare, exactly. But look, you can’t put a price on lives. A little collateral damage is worth it.”

“A little?” Zane says, his eyebrows shooting up.

“Eh, we helped clean it up,” Nya shrugs. “That counts.”

Jay points at her. “Thank you.”

“Still say it wasn’t my fault,” Kai grumbles, crossing his arms. Lloyd pokes him in the ribs, and Kai yelps, flinching away from him. “Not cool, not cool!”

“We’re definitely not going to make it through this movie without getting thrown out,” Cole groans into his hands. They’re already getting looks from the movie-goers around them, and their patience doesn’t look like it’s going to last very long.

“C’mon, have a little optimism,” Jay placates. “This is gonna be fun— hey, that’s my popcorn!”

“No way, lightning brain, I bought it, I hold it.”

“But you bought it with Nya’s money.”

“Which she stole from Lloyd’s sock drawer this morning, so that doesn’t count.”

“Wait, you stole my sock money?”

“Um…call it payback for stealing the last of the cookies last week.”

“How is that a fair trade, I only took one!”

“Yeah, one dozen—”

“Guys, please—”

“You’re one to talk, you stole all the—”

“Would you all shut up, it’s starting, and — I said shut up!”

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

It takes a few threats of murder, and one or two threats of open power-use to the face, but they quiet down in time for the opening credits.

The movie begins peacefully enough, with an older man telling some ‘punk little kid’ as Kai describes him, a whole lot of ‘stereotypical sensei mumbo jumbo’ as Lloyd describes it, about himself. Which, to be fair, is pretty accurate to their lives, so they’re able to quietly munch on popcorn for the first few minutes, at least.

But then the plot starts.

“What do they mean, ‘uh oh’, to Lloyd Garmadon?” Kai frowns. “The city loves you.”

Lloyd shrugs, tossing a mouthful of popcorn back. “I dunno,” he says. “I mean, it is tough to be that kid.”

“Yeah, ‘cause he’s the worst shortie ever, like four feet tall,” Nya whispers to him. Lloyd elbows her in the side. Zane shushes them, just in time for the actual movie Lloyd to show up on the screen, in bed and receiving a call from—

Lloyd doubles over, choking on his popcorn.

“Luh-Lloyd?” Kai says, in delight. “Luh-Lloyd?!”

“Pajamas,” Lloyd wheezes, as Nya thumps his back. “Look at his pajamas, I gotta buy my dad those—”

The others are left to giggle their way through the interpretation of one of their greatest enemies snacking on cereal in printed pajamas, telling Lloyd he ‘must’ve butt-dialed him’. It’s hysterical until Garmadon forgets Lloyd’s birthday, and the Lloyd onscreen gets the signature Sad Puppy Eyes Lloyd Look on his face — which, props to the actor, he nailed it — and everyone looks to Lloyd in sympathy.

“That’s rough, buddy,” Jay pats his shoulder. Lloyd rolls his eyes.

“It’s not me,” he says, shrugging again. Really, his dad forgetting his birthday is like, incredibly tame, compared to hurling him through a prison wall or six.

Now, forgetting he existed, that stings. But also, like, this isn’t his dad, so. Eh. He doesn’t really care.

“Is that supposed to be Misako?”

Never mind. He cares now.

“Are you—” Kai plasters a hand over his mouth, muffling this next part. “—kidding me?!”

“Oh, she’s, uh…really present, huh,” Cole winces, as ‘Koko’ encourages her son about being himself, and other really nice stuff Lloyd would have super appreciated hearing when he was younger.

He opens his mouth again, and Nya takes the opportunity to stuff more popcorn in it. Lloyd chomps down angrily, glaring at the screen and grumbling under his breath.

“At least you’ve shown up at all,” Jay comforts him. Lloyd is very much not comforted. He just wants to get through the rest of the movie in peace, and shift the focus off of him as quick as possible.

Oh boy, is he disappointed.

Like, he gets a few minutes of relief as the others are introduced, but that’s all, really. Even if it is hilarious.

“Hello, fellow teen.”

Cole makes a sound like a dying balloon, and Jay almost coughs popcorn out of his nose. Zane just presses his lips into a flat line, his expression unreadable. “I do not…know how to feel about this.”

Jay and Kai are doubled-over on each other by now, choking on laughter. Cole, bless him, is doing his absolute best not to burst into giggles, while Nya and Lloyd have given up and are full-out cackling.

“Well,” Zane says, eyeing them with a gleam in his eye. “Perhaps I should start updating my database with ‘teen lingo’ then—”

“No!” they all chorus in unison, waving frantically at Zane, earning several dirty looks from the people around them as they do.

“You’re perfect the way you are, buddy,” Jay says hastily.

Kai, at least, seems pretty steadily in character—

“Aw, look, I almost snapped your spine.”

“That’s a Kai hug, for sure.”

—and Nya’s thrilled about having a motorcycle. Jay’s a tad indignant at his character’s stuttering, but Cole reminds him he has zero room to talk, so Jay shuts up in time for Cole to shrug at his own portrayal.

“I like that shirt,” he remarks. “And those headphones are cool.”

Then the reality of the scene they’re watching sinks in.

“Wait, why are we in school?” Zane blinks, confused.

“Why are they being so mean to you?” Cole exclaims at Lloyd, taken aback.

Lloyd makes a face at the cheerleaders on screen, jerking his shoulder up as if to say ‘like I know’. Which is kind of a lie, because he does know, the movie told them, but he’s not gonna get into that. Kai is already fuming in his seat beside him, growing steadily angrier by the second. “Who do they think they are,” he hisses. “I’ll show them a number one hit.”

Lloyd rips his eyes from the screen, watching Kai in mild alarm. “Kai, you know that’s not actually me, right?”

“—tear those kids a new one—”

Lloyd cringes at the looks they’re getting from the people around them, patting Kai’s arm. “Chill out, Kai, seriously. This is like, basic Darkley’s stuff, don’t worry. And I walked away from that fine.”

Wrong thing to say. Kai swivels on him, his eyes flashing. “Wait. This happened to you at Darkley’s? For real?”

“Um…” Lloyd sweats briefly, the sounds of Boo Lloyd! coming from the screen really not helping at all. “I mean, I was a brat. I brought a lot of it on myself.”

Kai looks like he’s going to combust. “I swear—”

“Kai,” Lloyd interrupts, trying to quell the storm. “It’s fine. Seriously. I mean, there was this one time that four guys way bigger than me ganged up and hung me from a roof by my hoodie all night, but it wasn’t that bad. I’m fine.”

Kai’s face turns thunderous, matching the roar of Garmadon finally coming into view onscreen. “Wasn’t that bad?” he says, incredulous, gaining them several shh’s, mainly from Nya. Kai ignores them. “Point me to those punks, Lloyd, I’ll strangle ‘em—”

“Kai.”

“Wha — oh. Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“That — that was different.”

“Uh-huh.”

“…you — you weren’t there all night.”

“I sure was.”

“Oh.”

“Mm-hm.”

“Um. Sor…rry?”

Fortunately, both are saved by Garmadon smashing his way on screen in a giant shark mech with a full-scale crustacean-themed army, to which the ninja kind of just…stare. That’s — that’s the best they can do with that one. That, and be thankful Garmadon himself isn’t here to see this.

“I mean, to be fair, I can see him appreciating a song entirely about himself,” Kai mutters, as the chorus continues to yell about Garmadon!. “And — wait, Lloyd, are you filming this?”

“Uh, yeah?” Lloyd says, re-adjusting the zoom feature on his phone. “Now hush, I wanna save this and make it my ringtone.”

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

The mechs are, admittedly, cool. Their total lack of ability to do Spinjitzu, way less so.

“That’s so not how Spinjitzu works,” Nya scoffs, as Sensei Wu finally makes an appearance, just in time for Lloyd to request wind as an element, which brings on another bout of choking.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Lloyd sighs. He then blinks rapidly. “Wait, where are our powers?”

“Nonexistent, apparently,” Zane murmurs. “Along with our common sense.”

“To be fair, that’s never been a reliable thing in the first place,” Jay points out.

The lack of common sense continues to be a trend throughout the movie, and by the time the ‘Ultimate Weapon’ comes up, things start to go downhill rather fast.

“Which, to continue to be fair, is also pretty in-character. This whole fight kinda is.”

The other ninja grumble in agreement as Lloyd runs off to confront his father alone despite all warning, and Lloyd begins to sink lower into his seat. He has a bad feeling he knows exactly where this is going, and sadly, he isn’t disappointed.

Well, for the most part.

“A cat?” Lloyd yelps, his eyes bugging out. “A giant cat?! How is that fair? All I ever get to fight is creepy part-reptile people who want to suck the power out of me, where do I sign up for this?”

“This is surreal,” Zane remarks, as Meowthra tears her merry way across the screen. The whole scene is a disaster, slo-mo destruction and everything, but it’s pretty much the standard fare they’re used to, so they really don’t bat much of an eye as the cat totally wrecks them.

“Nice to know we can’t catch a break in any universe,” Jay sighs sadly, as his mech is torn apart on screen.

“This movie is really beating the ‘don’t-challenge-dad-solo’ message over the head, huh,” Lloyd mutters, chin in his hand, having recovered from his brief bout of extreme-cat-heart-eyes.

Kai gives him a stink-eye. “Yeah, I wonder why.”

Understandably, the Lloyd onscreen is considerably upset at the apparent destruction of all his friends. The ninja are all incredibly curious as to where the movie is going to go next, though, since this Garmadon celebrates his victory by throwing a pretty sick party instead of building a skyscraper-sized stone Colossi of destruction and wrecking half the city.

“Kind of unfair,” Jay scowls, as the henchman do the conga onscreen. Nya’s got a smart comment to make back, but then the Lloyd onscreen reveals himself —

“In typical dramatic-Lloyd fashion, they got that right.”

“Oh, shut up.”

— and then proceeds to snap at the Garmadon onscreen, “I wish you weren’t my father.”

The theater goes remarkably quiet, as do the ninja. Cautiously, they turn to look at Lloyd, who is staring at the screen with a look on his face similar to if you’d shaken up a soda bottle really hard and were about to take the top off. Then—

“Oh, heck yeah, how’s that for karma, you over-powered conceited jerk of a dad,” Lloyd hisses viciously at the screen, punching his fist in the air. “He’s got the right idea, it’s my turn to start disowning family members. Screw ‘you’re not my son’, I’m gonna pull this one out next time and disown him—!”

“Lloyd,” Nya says, a bit nervously. “You know he’s, uh, he’s crying on screen now, right?”

“Yeah,” Lloyd spits.

“You, uh. You know you are too, right?”

“N-no.”

“Therapy,” Cole whispers to Zane. “So much therapy.”

“I’ve already booked us,” Zane murmurs back, sliding his phone back in his pocket. “If the office can simply manage not get blown for one more week this time, we might actually make it."

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

While they do, however, manage to stay quiet for most of that scene — and isn’t Cole wildly impressed with them for that — the next scene kind of shoots that victory right into tiny little pieces.

“Why are we being so mean to you now?” Cole exclaims, flabbergasted, as the poor Lloyd onscreen looks seconds from tears, the rest of the team staring down at him with firm glares.

“Shh, this is getting dramatic,” Lloyd hushes him.

Nya gets a look on her face that promises murder, and Kai refuses point-blank to be shushed.

“What a bunch of jerks. We’d never do something like that, I’m going to have words with some people—”

“Jamanakai,” Lloyd just says, wearily. “Rooftop. All night.”

Kai deflates, sinking into his seat. “S’not the same,” he mutters, fiercely. “We never said all those mean things to you.”

Lloyd gently pats his arm. “There, there,” he says. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

“I never said it! It’s — it’s that imposter on screen, that’s who!”

“Kai, I know—”

Lloyd is interrupted by an unfortunately-timed declaration from the onscreen Jay.

“Now, we hate you.”

Lloyd blinks, almost surprised at the slight flare of hurt that sparks in his chest at that. Which is stupid, because these directors don’t know them, and that’s not really Jay, but hey, why not play into his worst fears, movie—

Then “Jay!” is hissed in scandalized unison, and Lloyd stuffs said worst fears back into box and tries not to snicker at the look on his brother’s face.

“It’s not me!” Jay defends desperately, waving his hands wildly. “That’s not me!”

“Deleting all data related to treating Lloyd as a friend.”

Jay is saved as everyone turns on Zane, who just buries his face in his hands. “Let it end,” he moans.

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

Apart from being shocked that Sensei Wu is actually going with his ninja on their quest for the Ultimately Ultimate Weapon—

“It’s ultimate ultimate, did you miss that trip-inducing scene they explained it with?”

—they aren’t as surprised by things anymore after that, having caught on to the movie’s flow. It’s a little more slapstick than they’re used to, all bright colors and quick action, but it’s enjoyable to watch Garmadon and Sensei Wu snipe at each other, at least.

“Ten bucks says he survives just fine,” Cole says blandly, as Sensei Wu goes plummeting toward the river.

Not one of them take him up on that wager.

“Geez, they’re really roasting us for being morons in this, huh,” Jay observes, as their onscreen counterparts take the clearly-a-trap route, as per Garmadon’s advice.

Lloyd, who is still stewing about having his voice made fun of, bites out, “I think it’s pretty valid, for some of us.”

“Oh, suck it up already, Lloyd. Your voice changed anyways, get over it.”

“Are you saying I sounded ridiculous before?”

“Uh, no-o…?”

“Oh, there we go, getting humiliated again,” Nya sighs, as the ninja are cornered by Garmadon’s ex-generals. “I wonder why they didn’t give us our powers. You’d think they’d have capitalized on that, it’d look pretty cool.”

“Who knows. I’m still trying to figure out if my character’s love for music is a clever reference to me and my dad’s singing background, or just a shallow attempt to give me character at all,” Cole muses. They turn back to the movie just in time to wince in unison as the ninja onscreen flee, leaving Lloyd and Garmadon to be captured.

Kai is less than pleased with this development.

“Oh, so we’re just leaving Lloyd behind now? Who wrote this movie, I wanna talk.”

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

By the time Garmadon’s teaching Lloyd how to throw bricks from a roof to some sappy soundtrack, then relocating his dislocated shoulder in a wild tone change, they’re mostly lost for words.

Also kind of enjoying the movie, though no one will admit it. The expressions are funny, and there are some lines that hit home. Sure, Lloyd spends a good ten minutes alternating between sputtering and gaping when Garmadon describes their family history, and only proceeds to get worse when everyone else receives powers and he gets a cute little tree branch, but it is fun to watch their onscreen counterparts run around to “I’ve Got the Power” playing cheerfully in the background. Plus, no one tries to ostracize Lloyd again, and it’s oddly satisfying to watch Garmadon get eaten by a giant cat, so by the time Lloyd’s trying to hide suspicious sniffling into the empty popcorn tub while his onscreen counterpart is giving Garmadon his big sappy speech about forgiveness, they might actually give the movie a decent rating.

Cole’s just happy they haven’t been thrown out yet, because they’ve really been pushing it this whole time. But finally, it seems like everyone’s settled down and is keeping perfectly quiet—

“What do you mean, he gets to keep the cat?”

Cole’s hopes and dreams go up in sad, despairing smoke.

“Wait, that’s what’s bothering you?” Nya blinks. “Not the whole, ‘this Lloyd gets his entire family back happy’ part, but the cat part?”

“Well yeah, I’m upset about the cat part!” Lloyd exclaims indignantly. “He gets a giant cat! The size of a skyscraper! What kind of raw deal did my grandfather cut me here, I didn’t even get to keep my dragon! This is so dumb, and — and oh look, now my dad’s all happy and stuff—”

Nya and Zane glance around in alarm. The movie-goers around them seem to be losing the last, lingering shreds of their patience, and Cole wisely decides that this might be a nice time to make an exit. The movie looks like it’s about over, anyways, and—

“—and what, they just have happy family dinners together now?!”

Yeah, they’re leaving.

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

“Well, that was…enlightening,” Zane says blankly, as they exit the theater. He still looks tragically annoyed at the way the producers decided to portray him, but he’s mostly recovered by now. Probably because he torched his little movie poster on the way out, but who are they to judge.

“I think you mean infuriating,” Kai mutters, glaring at the theater as they leave it behind.

“I don’t know, it wasn’t so bad,” Nya says. “Like, they obviously decided to go for Lloyd’s very sensitive personal life as a focus point, so at least the rest of us got off alright.”

“Giant cat,” Lloyd mourns, clearly still more hung-up on that than Ninjago’s apparent obsession with his family drama.

“I just wanna try that lightning thing later,” Jay says. “Know any doors I can practice busting open dramatically?”

“Yeah, the door to the producer’s office,” Kai grumbles.

“Enough, guys,” Cole sighs. “It was a lot better than it could’ve been. Let’s just be happy the city still likes us enough to make us the heroes.”

They all nod at that, placated for now, at least. They fall into silence, carefully navigating their way home, until Jay breaks the quiet.

“Your heroes on the wa-a-ay,” Jay murmurs. He’s met with five looks of equal disappointment. “What?” he shrugs. “It’s catchy.”

Cole rolls his eyes, and Kai scoffs. They fall back into silence for a beat, their footsteps the only sound on the street, then—

“Something-something save the da-a-ay,” Lloyd hums.

Jay beams, and Kai moans. Nya just grins. “Gonna something-something pla-a-ace—”

“That takes us higher!”

They dissolve into snickers, their mix of off-key singing echoing across the Ninjago City streets. Cole spares a sigh of despair at their attempt, but he can’t help grinning too. It is a catchy song, and, to be fair, for trying to capture their general team spirit, it comes pretty close.

A lot closer than half that movie did, he frowns. Though he does still want that shirt his counterpart wore.

“Hey,” Jay speaks up. “Let’s learn that Garmadon song next. We can sing it to him in battle.”

“Oh, now you’re talking.”

#lego ninjago #ninjago #tlnm #sort of #lloyd garmadon #jay walker #cole brookstone #zane julien #nya smith #kai smith #the whole gang's here even if they don't wanna be #listen i'll defend this movie til the death bc it's what got me here #but the show ninja would have Opinions #answered #my fic

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opheliasbrokenmind · 5 years ago

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stranger - luca changretta

hi everyone! apparently i’m not allowed to go out and this means i’ll try to write as much as i can. requests are always open. this is my first luca fic and i’m sooo excited, please let me know how you found it after reading. i love you, take care of yourselves xx

‘Alfie, thirty minutes is over. You can open your eyes now.’ You slowly walked to the place you left the man a while ago and your hand reached to the gun you were hiding under your coat when you noticed the group of men in your direction. You heard him saying something to the man he was talking to and waited for you to come near him before continuing to talk. ‘Yeah, dove, right. Let us finish this, will ya?’ You stayed silent and listened to them, Alfie probably knew you figured out what was happening.

You also noticed the man hadn’t look at you since you appeared so you studied his face. With that perfect suit and beautiful eyes, he seemed assertive but somehow, you thought he was also sad. His tattoos were remarkable, of course. Alfie turned his back to grab a bottle of rum and you felt the Italian’s eyes on you, you barely smiled at that.

‘I tell you what, right. Here’s a gift, it’s free. Souvenir of your visit here. Goodbye, trot on. Down there is Bonnie Street.’

The Italian opened the bottle and smelled it, ‘You know they say you’re a smart guy. You already know what we want before we say it. That’s funny ‘cause now I believe I know what you want even before you say it. Yeah.’ He chuckled and walked to Alfie, you watched them carefully.

‘So, are you gonna taste it?’ Alfie asked calmly, his patience running out. He took out the toothpick and smiled, you thought it was a crooked one. ‘I think this clown wants us to run his rum into New York.’ He said in Italian and you kept your face stern, not letting them you understood him. You threw a look to Alfie, he had the same expression. ‘Damn fucking straight, mate. Otherwise, you wouldn’t still be breathing my oxygen, would ya? Because I have 200 barrels a month. Yeah, cleared by your people, distributed through your teams...’

‘Thing is that people want gin these days.’ He cut him off and Alfie turned to you, ‘Is that true, love?’ You looked like you saw them for the first time today, ‘Well, maybe it could be but... If you ask me, alcohol will be sold anyway.’ Alfie cracked a smile, ‘You drink something other than wine?’ You rolled your eyes playfully, ‘Tommy’s gin isn’t that bad, actually and your rum... I’d drink it too, only if you wanted me to.’

‘Bad, bad liar.’ Alfie said and sighed, ‘Well, the exit is still out there. Right on Bonnie Street, yeah?’ He pointed out the way and the Italian chuckled, ‘Oh, you fucking crazy, you know that?’ Alfie sat back to his chair again, staring at him.

‘Two hundred barrels, huh?’ Then he said something in Italian to the man on his left. The next minutes passed with Alfie explaining the bill to him and you held your laugh when he called him a cunt. You were almost surprised when he agreed with the deal but Alfie was faster than you.

‘Eh, you just made a deal without a negotiation, didn’t you? Yeah, Tommy Shelby was right about you, wasn’t he? You plan to kill us all.’ He said the last sentence in Yiddish and you caught the change in Luca’s face, he wasn’t expecting this. ‘Are we done yet, Mr Solomons?’ He asked and you knew the meeting was over, ‘You know the exit, right.’

The Italian stared at you and then turned his eyes to Alfie, ‘A real beauty, you have.’ He said in Italian and you simply nodded when his eyes were back on you. ‘Grazie, signor Changretta.’ Alfie and you could sense the second wave of shock so you just let the man leave with his questions wondering in his mind.

Luca would expect everything from Alfie but how could you know Italian? More important than that, who were you? Not only you were on Alfie’s side the whole time but you also mentioned the Shelby. Whatever it takes, he thought. I’ll find who you are, darling.

On the other hand, Alfie looked at you under his eyelids, ‘What was that, love?’ You sighed softly and gave him your hand, he got up from the chair quickly. ‘You know, I’m not sure. I just wanted to see him surprised.’ He snorted, ‘Did that fucking Italian impress you? Is that what you mean?’

The two of you went outside and walked to a cafe, he didn’t say anything until your orders arrived. ‘John’s dead, Alfie.’ You couldn’t help but feel a bit sad for the poor man, you weren’t close but in the end, he was a brother, a husband and a father. ‘I talked to Tommy the other day, things have gone out of hand now and somebody is gonna bleed. I don’t want it to be you or him, I don’t want people to lose their loved ones.’

‘Hmm, I’m your loved one?’ You smiled and he smiled back even it was a really small one. ‘I don’t have many but you’re my friend, Alfie and of course, I care about you. You’d handle him somehow but Tommy’s gonna get killed or lose someone again. You and he have always been so kind to me since I came here so please give me a chance to return the favour.’

‘How’s you gonna do that exactly?’ Alfie sounded concerned, you held his hand on the table. ‘I guess it’s up to him, if he gets in contact with me I will try to stop him.’ The man growled and his free hand caressed your cheek, ‘Don’t do that, y/n. We’re not worth it.’ You closed your eyes and when you opened them, he saw the tears, ‘You are. You are the closest thing to family for me. In all these people in the world, you saw me and you understood me.’

‘I will kill that bastard myself if anything happens to y-’ You cut him off, ‘You have a business to run but me, I’m just a passenger roaming around the world. By the way, don’t be that hopeless.’ You forced a smile and left a little kiss on his palm. ‘Whatever happens, I will always be in contact with you which means if you ever stop writing to me I come here and pay you a visit. Understand?’ The man smiled and this time, it was a warm smile that made your heart flutter.

‘Keep me informed, love. I’ll never forget you.’ He said when you came to your doorstep and you knew he’d refuse if you invited him. Even though he wasn’t showing any emotion, you knew he was pretty sad. ‘Come ‘ere, Alf.’ You whispered and he didn’t resist, letting you wrap your arms around him. ‘Y’know, this old man’s gonna miss ya, little one.’

You watched the man walking away, he grunted loudly and you saw his shoulders dropped. You sighed and closed the door, you knew you were going to leave but didn’t know when. The idea was on your mind for a long time and you were planning how to do it since the Italians arrived in England. You’ve heard a lot of stories about Luca and decided to make him leave Alfie and Tommy. After your encountering today, you were expecting him to do something.

His face appeared in your memory, the sorrow in eyes... What he did was unacceptable but it was clear he suffered enough after everything happened in his life. Tommy had told you about his background, the prison and other things he dealt with. Everyone you knew had a rough life and he wasn’t any different. You’ve always felt like these men should be released from all of this pain and dirt. Alfie was old enough to know that, he was the first one you met. The two of you shared a lot of memories together and now due to his health conditions, maybe he would decide to get some rest.

Thomas Shelby was different from Alfie, he had been through a lot more and the power was all he had. Alongside your meetings, you had conversations with people you worked with but the ones you had with Tommy were different. He was also aware of the life he could have, he could’ve been a lot happier. He could’ve lived a simple life. Then, he believed there’s no coming back. It was true in a way, nothing he can do would bring her wife to life again. Or his brother, John. You remembered the man again, he always had a smirk on his face and when you looked at him, you could never stop yourself from smiling.

All these years, you never stayed at somewhere long enough to have an attachment but this time it was different. You and Alfie had a really intimate friendship and even Tommy opened up to you sometimes. The Shelby family didn’t see you as just an interpreter who helped them with their business. You went out with Ada, laughed and drank with Polly, talked with Finn and played with John’s children. To them, you were Aunt y/n. You smiled with the memory of you and John dancing at an event for the business. That night he told you about what was he planning to do before the war.

When you thought of the Shelbys, you saw children who gave up their dreams. Maybe it was the reason why you wanted to draw Luca away from them or maybe deep down, you believed the Italian was just another victim of this cruel world. Shaking your head to let go of the thoughts, you made your way to the bedroom to change your clothes. When you reached to your bed, you noticed the package on it. You couldn’t help but feel a bit excited as you sat on your bed, unravelling the ribbon. Your eyes wandered on the dress for a second after you picked the envelope.

Let’s have dinner

- Luca Changretta

You let out a breath and read again, he had a beautiful handwriting. The satin dress was scarlet, it was quite assertive just like the man who sent it. You had to take off your bra to wear it and when you looked at the mirror, you liked the reflection on it. The red lipstick made the look even more challenging and you smiled to yourself, he knew what he wanted. You put your coat on and wore your high heels, maybe it could make a difference between your heights. After checking the cigarette box and lighter, you left the house and locked the door.

You were just about to finish your cigarette when a car arrived at your door and the Italian got out, waited for you to putt off the cigarette. You exhaled the smoke and stepped closer to him without breaking the eye-contact, you wanted him to be the first one to speak. Once you were in the car, you studied his appearance. He wore a fine suit, it wasn’t the same one you saw in the afternoon and even though the streetlights were the only light source, his beautiful orbs were able to be seen.

‘Nice place, your house.’ The man looked directly into your eyes and played with the toothpick. ‘Nice dress.’ You commented and noticed the little smile covering his lips. ‘It would be a shame if I didn’t see you in it.’ He offered you his arm and you walked to the restaurant. ‘Well, I’m here, right?’ The worker opened the door for you and after giving your coats to the check girl, the manager of the restaurant guided you to your table. You arched an eyebrow, ‘May I ask why you brought me here?’

‘I researched you, mi amore. You are an elegant woman and you should be treated like one.’ You sighed and the waiter saved you with bringing the wine menu. ‘Which one do you work for?’ He asked after the waiter left, curious for the answer. ‘None.’ A smile played at the corner of his lip, ‘Which one do you love or should I say which one is in love with you?’ You smirked, ‘I’m afraid the answer is the same, Mr Changretta.’

‘What is it you do exactly?’ You took a sip from your glass, ‘Simultaneous interpretation but I assume you already knew that. Five languages. English, French, German, Russian and Italian.’ He nodded, ‘Yeah, and how? You don’t have a past. You just appear and disappear.’ You bit your bottom lip without realizing, an old habit of yours from the past. ‘I was born in Russia, my mother was French and she taught me. Then she passed away and my father sent me to Germany to live with my grandparents. I moved to England and learned Italian at school.’

‘I see, a woman with no country.’ You almost smiled at that, ‘I belong to nowhere and no one, better than killing people in order to prove everyone I have strong ties.’ He was taken aback with your observation, ‘I started a vendetta and I won’t stop until they are all buried to the ground.’

‘That’s the thing with you people. Thomas and Alfred are all the same. You’ll do that for what, Mr Changretta? Is it going to bring your father and brother back? Is it going to make a difference or fix anything? You are just cowards, all of you.’

‘Cowards, huh? An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ You rolled your eyes, ‘You are afraid to let go, to live with it. You’ve already killed John Shelby and you didn’t just murder someone. You also took a husband from a wife and a father from his children. Call it off.’ The rage in his eyes made you stop, ‘What if I don’t?’

‘I know you’re not alone here but believe me, they will kill you. Whatever it takes, they’ll kill you if you don’t stop. It’s like a cat and dog fight, it doesn’t make any sense. Do you hate your life this much? Do you want your mother to lose another son?’ You could see your words made him think, he sighed and stayed silent for a moment. ‘What’s in this world to live for? If I die, I will die for an honourable reason. Would it change anything for you if I die?’

‘It would, actually. I thought you are a wise man but if you are this eager to die, then I’m afraid I was wrong. I’d also feel blue because someone I’d like to know is dead.’ You stared at him as he took the words in, thinking about his life and you. ‘You speak like you really mean it, you are a good liar.’ He took a long sip from his wine and looked at you. ‘Do you think I have to speak to make you believe, Mr Changretta?’

He stayed silent again and you knew he was weighing your words, you were hoping he’d come round. ‘I was going to ask you what are you doing in the men’s world but now I see, you are as lost as I am.’

‘Alfie was faster than you, y’know? Yes, I don’t have a big purpose in life but at least I enjoy living, unlike you.’ Luca gave you a half-smile, ‘You don’t have any worries but me? There’s no coming back for me after all these years. I’m not a fan of life.’ You tried to gather yourself up, this was the only idea that came to your mind.

‘One day, Mr Changretta.’ The man frowned, ‘What?’

‘Give me just one day to show you life is beautiful. You’ve got nothing to lose.’

‘I don’t know you, why would I do that?’ He said but you felt you were about the win. ‘Then ask me anything you wanna know and at the end of this night, make your decision.’ You spoke, letting your guard off for him. ‘Tell me about your family.’

‘I was their only child and when I was fifteen, my mother passed away. She loved me in her own way but I knew their love for each other was fucked up. Dad went crazy and sent me away, I saw him in England a few times then heard he shot himself. We weren’t close, I spent more time with his parents. They were nice people but I haven’t seen them for years. Not sure even if they’re alive.’ You realized the emotion in his eyes and laughed softly, ‘Please, I don’t really care about having a family.’

‘Did you ever get married?’ Your smile was bigger this time, ‘Oh, Mr Changretta. I didn’t, of course. Can you imagine me with a baby in my belly? I don’t think I’m the best person to be a mother and well, it must be boring to settle down and sit at home all day.’ He shook his head, you were completely unpredictable. But unlike you, he could imagine you with a beautiful baby in your arms. It would be nice waking up next to you and prepare you breakfast.

‘How about falling in love?’

‘I had relationships, good and bad ones. Most of the time I’ve avoided connecting people, then I got my heart broken by someone. I like knowing people but I don’t like holding to them.’ Luca wanted to know the man who broke your heart, what were you like before? ‘What are you planning?’

‘For tomorrow? I’ll take you to a place I like, we’ll talk and see what happens. Maybe I can know you more, too.’ He raised an eyebrow, ‘Have any questions?’ You slightly nodded, ‘How are you feeling, right now?’

‘Confused. I don’t know if I should walk away from that door and leave you or stay and see what you mean. I feel the pressure, the rage after everything that happened. You make me think about things I don’t want to think about.’ You noticed how tired he looked, it wasn’t easy to be him. ‘You have a conscience and it tells you to do the right thing, right?’ He took a deep breath, ‘Why does it make a sense? My mother says I should kill every one of them.’

You reached out for his hand on the table and held it, ‘Does killing people make any sense? I know you feel sad and angry but that’s not how to grieve. You should let things go.’ He looked at your hands, ‘Do you? Do you let things go or you’re running around the world to not get attached to people? You are telling me I am a coward but you are afraid of people.’ You tried to take your hand away but he didn’t let you, ‘I don’t hide from people, Mr Changretta. I’m hiding from myself.’

He stayed silent and you glanced away, ‘It’s pretty late, time for me to go home.’ You got up slowly and he walked behind you, your words still echoing in his mind. ‘Let me give you a ride.’ You didn’t say anything and when you were in the car, you watched the road. ‘You know, when I saw you this afternoon I thought you were different, in a good way. How stupid I am for being hopeful.’ The car stopped and you walked to your house with quick steps, you didn’t want to see his face.

‘y/n, please.’ His warm voice stopped you, he was coming after you. ‘What’s left to say, Mr Changretta?’ The Italian stayed silent until you looked at him, ‘I made my choice.’ He whispered and took a step closer to you, your heart was beating fast. ‘When I came to pick you up, I thought I’d have a good fuck tonight. Then you showed me there’s much more in this life. Just one day. Nothing less and nothing more.’ He saw how bright your eyes looked and smiled, ‘When should I come in the morning?’

You bit your lip again, unaware of what it did to him, ‘You can stay here if you want but we’ll need a car.’ Luca walked to his driver and took the keys from him, you watched him coming back to you. You took his hat and coat from him once you were inside, you kicked off your high heels and sighed. ‘Want a cup of tea?’ He was studying your house so you walked to the kitchen and put water to the pot.

He watched you making tea, you were humming a melody and he shook his head at your sight, you looked stunning in that dress. ‘You didn’t accept my offer so we could fuck, right?’ You asked and he smiled, ‘Oh, I couldn’t think that.’

‘I’ll change my clothes, enjoy your tea.’ You went upstairs to your room and took the dress off. You choose a white nightgown and found him in the kitchen, sipping his tea. ‘Did you grow up in Italy or America?’ He thought you looked like an angel, ‘Italy, moved to America when I was seventeen.’ You wondered how old was he now, ‘I’ve been to Italy once, to Palermo. There are so many places to visit in this world and mostly I feel like I’ll die before I get to see them. It frightens me.’

‘You have years ahead, doll.’ You smiled softly with the word, this man changed something in you. The two of you went to your room once your cups were empty. ‘I can sleep downstairs if you want.’ You shook your head, ‘Here’s the first thing we’re gonna do to show you life is beautiful, waking up someone next to you.’ He took off his suit and got in the bed only with his underwear.

‘We are sharing a bed now but you haven’t said my name yet.’ He commented and you turned to him, ‘Come closer, Luca.’ The Italian didn’t question and you stared at him, your eyes turning slowly to his lips from his beautiful green eyes. You closed the distance between your lips and he placed his hand on your nape, pulling you closer. Your hand caressed the soft skin of his shaved face, your other arm around his neck. He pushed you to the bed so your back was resting on the sheets.

His lips left yours and made their way to your neck, gaining a quiet moan from you. He was leaving small kisses to your chest when you stopped him, ‘We shouldn’t do this. Because if we have sex now, tomorrow we will feel awkward all day.’ The man smiled and kissed you again, this time slowly. You sighed softly and wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. He didn’t resist and rested his head on your chest, listening to your breaths.

Luca noticed you were asleep and he moved away a little to look at you properly. With your hair spread on the pillow, your lips parted and your eyes closed, you looked so vulnerable and unreal to him. He thought about your conversation earlier and this time it made more sense. Of course, he knew he was going to get killed if he didn’t get rid off the whole family but he didn’t care. All the business and problems with his family were overwhelming recently and he was looking forward to a way out.

He realised thinking wasn’t going to take him anywhere, he shook his head and pulled the blanket over the two of you. He closed his eyes and waited the time to solve his problems, in the end, you never know what tomorrow will bring.

#Luca Changretta #luca changretta x reader #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinder #peaky blinder fanfic #Tommy Shelby #Alfie Solomons #John Shelby #Ada Shelby #adrien brody #peaky blinders fic

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merryfortune · 3 years ago

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Orange You Happy to See Me?

Written for 100ships on Dreamwidth

Prompt: #27 Orange

Ship: Alm/Faye

Fandom: Fire Emblem Shadows of Valentia

Word Count: 1,426

Rating: T

Warnings: No Warnings Apply

Tags: Canon Compliant, Pre-Canon, Fluff, Unrequited Pining

Faye was quiet as a mouse as she hefted herself up and onto the stable part of the fence. For the most part, it was solid stone but every time she put her hands on it, dust was left behind and she didn’t think moss made for a good mortar to hold it together but it was much better than the wooden picket bit at the front. She sat there, content, with her back to the sun and with the orange tree hanging over her. The fruits looked exceptionally juicy and plump this time of day but Faye was only peckish - thirsty, too, actually - and not yet hungry so she decided to wait before she plucked one. Besides, there was something much more satisfying to gorge herself on in front of her and that was Alm.

There was a reason why Faye had been so quiet as she climbed up to the fence wall that surrounded Alm and Mycen’s residence; she didn’t want to disturb Alm. He took his training very seriously and he looked very good whilst doing it. So it was better for the both of them that Alm noticed that he had a visitor - and spectator - at his own pace rather than Faye’s.

Though, he did seem to be nearing the end of his set. Sweat was sloughing off his arms and forehead as he repeated the same stroke of his wooden practice sword over and over. Faye wondered how many times Alm had done that one motion today: hundreds, thousands? And what of it over his life time, it would surely boggle the mind and even Faye, who considered herself mild and dutiful to chores and repetition, found herself reviled at the thought of doing the same thing so many times. Thus, she admired Alm’s determination.

It practically glistened off his muscles, off his demeanour. Faye was enamoured as she watched, growing warm under her round, petal-shaped collar. He was slowly down considerably now with well earned exhaustion. He cast down his wooden sword, propping it up at an angle against the cottage and then wandered around the yard, just cooling down in what little of the breeze there was - and it wasn’t cool either.

He wiped his brow and looked up. Faye smiled as she and Alm made eye contact. Though his exhaustion dripped off him, Alm did visibly perk up at seeing Faye. She said hello as she feebly waved at him and Alm nodded.

With a running start, Alm lunged at the wall and propelled himself up to sit beside Faye. Faye laughed and Alm stank but neither minded. It felt good to be shoulder to shoulder in the shade of the orange tree.

“How long have you been watching?” Alm asked.

“Oh, not long at all.” Faye replied.

“Where’re the others? Are they gonna come ‘round too?” Alm spoke animatedly.

“Er, no…” Faye replied. “I thought it would be nice for us to hang out one on one for a change. You boys are always running off with secret squirrel men’s business, or so you say, I think its just boys being boys to me, always leaving me in the dust…” Faye complained and her expression quibbled, “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

Alm panicked slightly at seeing Faye get pouty, “No, no, it's not like that at all,” he replied quickly, stammering and tripping on his own words, his hands flailed instinctively, “I didn’t consider your feelings. I’m, well, I’m an extravert, I guess. I like it when we hang out together as one big group, I didn’t realise that you feel excluded by me and the guys sometimes, either… But trust me, you wouldn’t have fun when we go off on our own like that.”

“Oh, I do believe that,” Faye said pointedly, but her mildly irritated demeanour shifted, softened, “but I’m glad you are happy to see me. And that you want to spend time with me - er, if you have chores, or if I’m intruding, I would especially understand if you don’t want me popping in unannounced.”

“Not at all, I have the rest of the afternoon off, thank goodness for sabbath, eh?” Alm replied.

“Y-yes, thank goodness for the weekly break but even so, you work so hard at your swordsmanship…” Faye murmured in mild agreement to Alm’s statement.

“It’s my pride and joy.” Alm beamed.

“I can tell, you look very good and professional doing it.” Faye said.

“Thanks Faye but I want to get stronger still. I know I can.” Alm continued on and it sounded like there was more he wanted to say but his voice had something in common with the stone they sat upon: it was rather… bricked out.

“I’ll cheer you on, promise,” Faye encouraged him, “and I know just the trick. You can’t be some good village swordsman if you're on an empty stomach.”

As though on cue, Alm’s belly rumbled. He touched his stomach and blushed. He felt as though Faye had just read his mind. She smiled as she reached up to the low hanging branches of the orange tree and pulled off an orange for Alm and then one for herself.

“Thank you, Faye.” Alm told her as he accepted the first plucked orange from her.

“You're welcome.” Faye replied.

She began to roll her orange between the palms of her hands, like it was a toy and that confused Alm just as much as Alm was confusing her. He had already stabbed through the top of his orange with a finger, juice spurting everywhere, messy.

“What are you doing?” Alm asked, blinking owlishly.

“Mama told me it makes the rinds come off easier and with less mess so I’ve been doing it ever since.” Faye replied, also blinking owlishly.

“Really?” Alm asked, incredulous but fascinated.

“Yes, see?” Faye replied as she began to undress her orange with ease.

Alm’s attention was rapt as Faye managed to create a long, winding peel from her orange’s wind. Faye kicked her boots playfully as she showed off her creation. Now she had the perfect little sphere of an orange in her other hand to nibble on. Alm gasped, impressed. It was certainly a lot more fanciful than the ripped up fragments that he torn off his orange.

“That’s really cool, Faye.” Alm praised her, all innocently boyish. “I’ll have to try that for the next time I eat oranges, I reckon.”

Faye giggled sweetly, “No worries.” she replied.

“But,” Alm interpreted her playfully as a smirk began to dawn on his face, “can you do this?”

Faye blinked and then watched as Alm stuffed his mouth not with the flesh of the fruit but with its skin. Faye giggled again as Alm beamed with his orangey mouth. It was cute and joking and never failed to be at least a little bit funny.

“That is true.” Faye agreed through her girlish laughter. “But I can do it too.”

She picked off the end of her peel so she could place it in her mouth. She grinned ear to ear using it. Alm laughed as Faye showed off her own orangey mouth and beneath the peel, the smile was for real. The sun was warm and the moment was carefree: Faye knew then and there that she would cherish it and aside from these already retroactive feelings of nostalgia, a flicker of hope carried too. That just maybe if she could make Alm laugh and smile enough times then she may just broach through and get her wish, that Alm would accept her and her feelings.

But until then, Faye just let the orange peel muffle her voice and her laughter. It dawned on her, bittersweet against the sharp citrus taste of fresh oranges, that they were a lot more similar than Faye had initially thought. Maybe she would do the same thing over and over, seemingly fruitlessly and without end, if it meant that her dream would come true. She could only hope, she supposed and was glad the orange peel was there to keep her lips smiling upwards as her once pleasant thoughts soured. Maybe she ought to train herself up more too with her bow and arrow, she might just get to strike an ace that way, between an orange on Alm's head and his heart in his chest, she was certain that she would hit her mark either way if she could be just as hard working as Alm - and for Alm, she could be twice as enthused, Faye had no doubt.

#100ships challenge #writing tag #fire emblem shadows of valentia #fire emblem #sov #alm x faye #faye x alm #almfaye #faye fire emblem #alm fire emblem #i tried to do something especially self indulgent for this piece since 27 is a lucky number for me

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imnotwolverine · 4 years ago

Text

The marriage pact - Old faces

Henry Cavill x OC Alice - multi-chapter

Part 1 Old faces | Part 2 >

Disclaimer: none, (re)meet-cute

Author’s note: It’s romcom weekend, okay? 😘

Word count: 1.682

(Link to my Masterlist)

[ Alice.in.writing.land ]

Dear readers.

I’d like to share with you some old wisdom from my nan on how to make: The perfect cake.

First of all: you always make sure you grease up the tin - ‘gotta make it slide right in, slide right out.’ She’d say with a grin so wide that my 12-year-old-self thought she’d tear her face in half. Her eyes would glitter mischievously as her hands moved with those swift and precise movements, leaving no inch of the inner cake tin unbuttered.

‘And! Make sure you always fully preheat the oven, because there’s no shortcuts to the perfect cake.’ She’d tut, pointing at the oven, to which I’d nod most dutifully, preheating the oven as she requested while she’d utter something about making sure you get yourself a good size baking pan; ‘He’s gotta be right for the job and most definitely don’t try to double the recipe. Focus on one good cake, and do NOT overdo it. Nobody likes a dense, overworked cake.’

Then, her hand lightly beating through the cake battery, she’d turn to me and give me a knowing look. ‘If you don’t know what kind of cake you want, you’ll only be in for a disappointment, you know.’ - To which I would start bouncing up and down, eagerly requesting chocolate cake. There was no doubt in my mind what kind of cake I wanted. It always was chocolate cake.

Those were good Sundays. Perfect cake baking Sundays.

And do you know what? Only now, 25 years later, do I realise she was never truly talking about cake. Or baking tins. Ha..no. Silly me. My frisky nan was talking about men. Partners. Love. And perhaps sex, but that leaves you some space for interpretation.

Now, my nan was a great baker. She had five kids. Buns of joy, really.

I, on the other hand, not so much. Despite knowing full well what kind of chocolate cake I want, I just happen to be a very bad baker. And perhaps.. it’s time that I start to learn, because her last advise still rings true in my ears:

‘And timing, my dear, listens more closely than you think.’ She’d wink, kissing grandpa on his cheek, to which he’d grumble some indiscernible acknowledgement, the glimmer in his eyes not hiding the fact he still loved her dearly.

Yes. I’m going to try harder and bake myself the best - birthday - cake, with a bit of nan’s advice. Meanwhile I hope you get all your cake wishes fulfilled, too.

Have a good, single Pringle Friday my dear readers.

A just turned 37,

Ali

A scorching hot September sun washed over the zoo entrance, the Durrell challenge just finished but the media circus far from over.

I yawned, stretching myself out as I watched my fellow journalists and reporters hover like a dark cloud around the person I would be interviewing in some ten minutes from now.

The poor guy hadn’t had a moments rest since he crossed the finish line of the Durrell challenge run and I felt my heart pang with guilt for taking another snippet of his precious time.

Then again, I had a job to fulfil and stupid as it was, I kind of enjoyed writing for the local newspaper. Writing was my thing, and currently I was in charge of writing one of the most beloved blurbs in the paper; Old Faces.

Every week I interviewed a well known inhabitant of the island. George the butcher and his famous spicy sausages, Henriette and her fourteen dogs, Ilias the swimmer - an old man swimming an astounding 10k a day. And a tiny highlight being todays interviewee; Henry, the movie star, back on our beloved Jersey Island to show his support for the local zoo.

Meanwhile for me, he was just Henry, my childhood neighbour, a friend.

—

‘Alice! You’re on!’ A familiar voice startled me and I quickly scrambled up from the little stone wall I had been lounging on, my hands grabbing for my notes and voice recorder as I started making my way through the paparazzi mayhem.

‘Sorry…sorry! Excuse me..Coming through.’ I said, pushing myself past the crowd until I reached the shade of a dark blue canopy, finding that strangely familiar face before me, resting in a chair, his running gear sticking to his muscular physique.

Henry.

He stood up from his chair, reaching out his hand to ..eh...introduce himself? I felt a sour taste in the back of my throat as I realised he didn’t recognise me, his lips pulled up into a friendly, yet professional smile.

Yaiks..Okay.

Don’t mind it, Ali, the poor guy can’t help it.

‘Hi..’ I awkwardly moved my stuff to one arm so I could shake his hand. ‘I’m Alice, local newspaper.’ I greeted, to which he nodded, his smile growing ever so slightly. He pointed at another chair, gesturing me to sit.

‘Please take a..-’ My voice recorder slipped out of my arm as I tried to take my seat, my eyes barely registering as Henry moved with lightning speed to grab onto the cord of the device mid-air. I gasped.

‘Oooph..that could have gone wrong.’ He chuckled, winking at me before he put the recorder back in my hand.

‘Sorry.’ I sniffled, feeling the slightest of blushes creeping over my cheeks. ‘Thanks Hen.’ I muttered without overthinking my words, my eyes already averted to a woman that appeared on my right - his left.

‘Hey!’ She smiled - Samantha, a chubby and bubbly lady I had known since my toddler years.

‘Hi Sam.’ I smiled in turn, seeing she held onto a sort of timing-device.

‘Okay, so..we’re a bit busy as you see. You’ve got four minutes..starting..eh..’ She clicked a button. ‘..now! Have fun!’ She cheered, winking cheekily at Henry.

‘Oh.. yea yea. Okay thanks.’ I nodded, my brow furrowing ever so slightly as Sam sauntered off again. Quickly I straightened my back, my sweaty fingers fumbling with that darn voice recorder - I really should get a new one.

‘So. Eh Henry! Hi! Welcome back!’ I started, offering him a smile, my fingers still trying to get the tiny buttons to cooperate.

Click. Set. Start.

Okay, here goes.

Henry smiled his most warm, Henry-esque smile in return. ‘Thank you..Alice.’ He hesitated a moment, as if deciding what to make of my name. Perhaps because he started to recognise me..or...perhaps he was just tired, trying to memorise all these three million names that wished for his attention today.

Yea..probably that was just me, wishfully thinking.

He didn’t seem to recognise me, and that was..okay.

I swallowed. ‘Okay. So. To give you a short insight in this interview. I write the Old Faces blurb in the paper and I must say that we mostly entertain older readers so ..you know..keep the “young folk language” to a minimum.’ I winked, clicking my pen. Henry shrugged. ‘That shouldn’t be to hard. So what would you like to know, Alice?’

This time my name escaped his lips far more fluently, naturally. I looked at him, our eyes meeting for a few silent, peaceful seconds.

‘I’m curious. What do you miss most from your time living here?’ Our eyes remained locked together as he licked his lips. ‘Hmm.’ He broke our gaze, thinking. ‘..Many things. I had a most wonderful childhood here. The beautiful nature, the ..zoo.’ He nodded at the zoo entrance behind us. ‘..the closeness of the community.’

I nodded, quickly interrupting him as time was sparse. ‘And what particular elements of that community do you miss the most?’

‘The simplicity of it.’ He started, then furrowed his brows. ‘No scratch that. That doesn’t quite capture it. Hmm..I think I mostly really enjoyed how natural it was to be around one another, care about fellows and neighbours, without there being any hidden agendas. You see my life is quite different now. I reside in circles that live and breath fame, fortune, wealth. Which sounds great for outsiders, but for insiders it can be exhausting at times too. For me at least, it can be. Being back here just makes me realise that not all people are like that. And, I enjoy the breath of fresh air it brings.’

‘And the great exercise too.’ I tease, making him chuckle in delight.

‘Yes, and great exercise. That last hill sure was a..challenge.’

‘And how are you going to spend your time here? How long are you staying?’ My pen still hadn’t touched the paper to make notes, our eyes sharing that same deep look again. Deep browns looking into fresh water blues.

He had aged well.

‘Only for the weekend unfortunately. But I’ll use the time to visit family, reacquaint with..old friends..friendly faces.’ His lip tugged in a half smile, near shy. Did he recognise me now? I wasn’t so sure, and perhaps I could have asked, but it wasn’t so - our little interaction was abruptly stopped as Sam reappeared.

‘And... that’s it! Thank you so much for coming Ali!’ She spoke, practically squeezing herself between me and Henry. I blinked away from Henry’s gaze and quickly looked up, realising this was it. This was all I’d get to see of Henry.

Alright then.

‘Thanks Sam.’ I smiled, quickly grasped my things and stopping my voice recording before thanking Henry.

‘Enjoy your stay!’ I laughed as he watched me grasp onto the voice recorder for dear life.

‘Thanks..eh..Ali.’

Once again that unnecessary hesitation before saying my name - though this time it was even more stomach-flutter-worthy, because he used my nickname. My childhood nickname.

I could only shoot him the quickest glance over my shoulder before Sam wrapped an arm around my shoulder, her voice muttering some sappy gossip into my unhearing ear.

I didn’t hear a word she said, because my mind was racing.

Did he recognise me? Did he recognise me? I couldn’t tell, his mouth slightly agape as if he were to ask something, but Sam had already coached me away.

And there I went. Back to my failing, cake baking life.

General tagsquad: @harrysthiccthighss @tumblnewby @magdelen69

Fluff lovers squad: @star017 @perhaps2remember @pterodactylterrace @witchersqueen @desperate-and-broken @toomanyfandomsshreya @deliciouslysassyarcade @pamacs-macs @cavilladdict @scorpionchild81 @lebguardians @sofiebstar @amberbabem @mis-lil-red @aestheticqueenb

Want to added or removed to the tag list? Shoot me a message!

#henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill meet cute #henry cavill x author #henry cavill x writer #fanfiction #the marriage pact #jersey islands #kal #henry bear #fluff #romcom

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datawyrms · 5 years ago

Text

Dannymay#1 Eyes

Who could have known one accident could completely change the course of all their lives? Sure, Danny had the most obvious change. Not many people could claim they were doing their best impression of Schrodinger's cat at all times. Yet he and Sam had changed too. His gothic friend had managed to figure out how to decide which issues were worth fighting for while actually having a chance of making a change stick. No more frog heists and poorly interpreted menus, but a lot more paperwork and sit ins. It had been worth it though, repealing any of the mayor’s idiotic programs that were just designed to make surveying everyone easier.

He’d never really thought hacking into and coordinating hundreds of camera feeds was going to be something he was going to be casual about. Yet here he was once again, Tucker Foley, the guy with all the eyes.

It had just been something to thwart Vlad at first, considering how gross it was the man kept sneaking bugs into the Fenton household. What kind of homie would he be if he let some rich asshole keep creeping on his mum? It had been tricky at first, plenty of failures, but now it was practically routine. Even the newest, most highly guarded systems were more like a fun game than the ‘baffing computer nonsense’ Danny and Sam insisted it was.

Maybe using the hidden cameras and breaking into others wasn’t the most morally correct choice. Maybe they’d gone a little too far. Yet every time his PDA was able to beep and let him know a camera had spotted a ghost, the ethical implications didn’t seem as important. It was one less ghost that could terrorize freely until Danny could detect it ‘naturally’, or found out on a news broadcast and end up sprinting away while cursing whoever decided to come haunt the town that day.

He checked the alert, eyes rolling as he adjusted his glasses. Technus getting a little too close to an electronics store yet again. He wouldn’t need to call his exhausted half ghost friend for this one if he cut him off quick enough. Blaster, Thermos, PDA, scooter, good to go.

The tech obsessed ghost was already mid monologue as Tucker ran closer “And soon, I-”

“I thought you upgraded to not do the long winded monologues?” the teen asked, thermos pointed and eyebrow raised.

“A-HAH! Ghost child’s mentally superior assistant! There was no one to hear the monologue, so I may make it!” the ghost apparently didn’t care about the suctioning soup container, more invested in refuting the comment. “Now you shall-”

“That’s great dude. How about we just not make another mech that gets blasted to bits today?” he rolled his eyes, watching as the surrounding area quickly emptied of people. ‘Get out of the way of the scary glowing thing’ being such a common occurrence really improved everyone’s knowledge of fire escape routes.

The caped ghost crossed his arms, looking away somewhat sheepishly. “I was not going to make a mech to bring around your clearly calculated doom!”

“You like, always make some sort of mech. Then we have to smash it and all this stuff gets wrecked. Really ruins the whole ‘and beeping’ part of your title,” Tucker said, edging closer. Jazz had insisted Danny was being a bit too much like their parents with the ‘fight first, maybe accidentally ask questions while punching’ policy with the ghosts that had been showing up for literal years At least it proved throwing them back in after a fight wasn’t going to make them stay gone, and they should try some new approaches. Technus was more of a nuisance than a menace, so trying the talking method with him seemed safe enough. After all, he could at least understand the ghost’s obsession with technology.

“It is not my fault the ghost child is always with the smashing! I would like to keep the electronics beeping, thank you very much!” The ghost remained defiant, but the green glow blanketing some of the monitors died down a little.

“Well if you go scaring everyone with a big glowing computer of course it’s gonna get smashed! Are you sure you actually like technology?”

Now that got a reaction. Technus almost seemed to grow larger with how brightly he was glowing. “OF COURSE I DO! ONLY I KNOW THE INTRICACIES OF ALL THESE NEW FANGLED BEEPERS AND BOBS! ONLY I CAN INTEGRATE AND ASSIMILATE TO IMPROVE IT AND MYSELF! YOU COULD NOT EVEN IMAGINE-”

He had to cut the ghost off before he tore off to make a mess. “Okay, chill! It’s just a real shame how much stuff gets ruined when you do this whole haunt and scare the humans thing, you know?”

“It...is that but I must be a worthy foe! It is the peak of rudeness to not put up a decent fight to such a good nemesis! On his territory no less!”

Tucker had to take a moment to think that over. Then another to hold back a snort. “You’re going to smash up all this stuff because you think Danny wants a good fight. Seriously?”

“Yes! Well, that and the terrified human screams! Those are always a hoot, someone should have thought of making somewhere in this world their haunt before now! Wait- why are you laughing?”

“Oh man he’s going to hate this.” he managed to say through laughter. “And what, you lose and get a free ride back home after having a fun day out around humans?”

“The ghost child is a good nemesis for that! Much better than having to drag myself back home with all energy spent! Skulker keeps taking part of my cloak, it is VERY IRRITATING and UNFRESH.”

“Okay, okay, I’m going to cut you a deal. As Danny’s friend, I’ll let you take one thing back to the ghost zone to play with if you just leave now.”

Technus slouched, glancing around a little as if worried the half ghost was going to just pop out a garbage can. “Eh? Won't he be offended I did not challenge him after trespassing? Child ghosts hold terrible grudges!” he spoke in the closest thing the ghost ever got to a whisper, aka theater whispering. “My intelligence is too much to be fooled by a human ploy!” Oh he was absolutely eyeing some sort of camera with adorable flowers on the casing.

“Hey, I’m his friend! He lets me watch over all of Amity, if he’s mad I’ll explain for you, okay?” Tucker wasn’t bothering to threaten with the thermos anymore, even if he still hadn’t quite realized this was actually working.

“Ah! Clever of him to use his humans that way. I should try it with little robot minions! Though my lair is not nearly so big…” the ghost was completely distracted as he mused “Maybe little floating fish! Or floating eyeballs! You are certain he will not be angry?”

“Dude, I promise you he won’t be mad about it. Swear on my glasses. Just take it and go.”

He hesitated for a moment more before swiping the packaged children’s camera, still doing a few double takes at Tucker to make sure the teen wasn’t moving to stop him. “Then I, TECHNUS shall take this ocular image stealing device and devise NEW HORRORS to BRING UPON THE SOULS OF THE LIVING”

“Or you could just play some video games. Those are fun, and if you don’t make a mess you might get to scare some people for a bit.”

“I WILL TAKE THAT IN TO CONSIDERATION, FOUR EYED ONE”

Then he was gone, cackling to himself as he tore through the sky. Jazz was going to have a field day with this one...

(I need to make a pseud on A03 to post all these later...hmhm)

#dannymay2020 #Danny Phantom #Tucker Foley #technus #my stuff #warning to DR only folks MAY IS HERE so uh #blacklist the danno if you do not want this lol #i wrote this in the hour before work i am a fool

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chiaki-translation · 4 years ago

Text

Spring Troupe 7th Play: Magician’s Pure Love Translation Ch5-6

Next chapter is up~ The story is good so I’m quite hooked actually...

Ch1-2 / / Ch3-4 / / Ch5-6 / / Ch7-8 / / Ch9-10 / / Epilogue

Disclaimer:

A3! is owned by Liber’s Entertainment

Translator’s Note:

I have difficulties translating the name so please bear with it. It’s whatever I can make out from the Kanji/Kana of the character’s name.

UPDATE: Edited the name through feedbacks! I like feedback so feel free to DM me/comment if you have any!

Director:

Hey, Masumi-kun, I have something to talk to you about, is it alright.

Masumi:

Director:

Actually, my husband’s transfer has been decided. I need to move out to a faraway place.

It seems that I have to quit the theatre troupe too…

Masumi:

Director:

I’m sorry.

But, even if we’re far apart, I’ll always support everyone.

About the troupe, I’ll leave it to you.

Masumi:

(No, wait… If you’re not here by my side, my acting too…)

Sakuya:

I’ve made copies of the script!

Director:

Alright, let’s get to the reading!

…

(It’s a story about a pair of magician master and pupil, who visited a mansion to hold a magician show, but they ended up getting involved with a mess caused by a phantom thief…

It started with a weird atmosphere, but followed up with a bittersweet ending…)

Itaru:

Senpai’s role, the master of the suspicious-looking magician, Uso Petén, really suits him.

Tsuzuru:

We decided the role beforehand after all.

This time, I wrote it with the image of the other members in mind as the basis.

The protagonist magician, Suga Kiel will be Masumi.

Petén’s old friend, the puppeteer, Kigustudou, will be Itaru-san.

The millionaire owner of the mansion, Ritchie Marney will be Citron-san.

The hardworking servant, Koma, will be Sakuya.

Then, I really want to add a role of a detective in the development so I will be playing as Detective Kanagi… I’ll do my best to study his role properly.

Director:

It suits everyone perfectly!

Sakuya:

Koma’s character sounds a bit complicated, but I’ll do my best!

Citron:

It seems that I’m going to play another NG celeb!

Even the name sounds like a nasty high-up celeb!

Itaru:

Well, you’re the most millionaire like here.

Chikage:

Yep, there’s no other choice.

Citron:

Oh, I won’t be playing the role because I’m a noble overflowing with dignity!

Tsuzuru:

Are you bragging.

Citron:

Masumi, change role with me!

Tsuzuru:

Wait, he’s the lead!

Masumi:

…

Citron:

…I guess I have no choice, I’ll surrender~

Director:

(Masumi-kun, as I thought, he looks a bit weird…)

Then, let’s get into the script reading, make sure to build the image of the role you will be playing as.

From tomorrow onwards, we will start reading together.

Sakuya:

Yes.

Tsuzuru:

Alright.

Masumi:

…

Citron:

…

*approaching slowly*

On the wall, I’m Minnie, but actually I’m Mary.

Masumi:

…It’s Citron behind me right.

Citron:

On the floor, I’m Morris, on the ceiling, I’m a flying squirrel…

Masumi:

Why does it suddenly become a flying squirrel.

What business do you have with me?

Citron:

I’m curious about how you read the script just now.

Maybe, were you empty sizing with the ending of Kiel’s first love?

Masumi:

… Empathize?

Citron:

That’s it!

I thought you became nervous because of that.

Masumi:

… That’s actually, something that I requested from Tsuzuru.

Citron:

It’s your request?

Why though?

Masumi:

…

What is love for you, Citron?

Citron:

… Love, huh?

…

<<… The thing about love is, it always involves both good and evil>>

Masumi:

…What?

Citron:

It’s a saying from an old philosopher.

Love is the strongest force, one that will pull you forward, further than any others.

I’ve seen you, Masumi, always for Director’s love, trying your best to move forward.

I’ll say it to you now, but…

I’m actually quite jealous of you.

When I was in Zahra, I couldn’t even tell Guy or Tangerine that I love them directly.

I have to choose the safest option, considering my position.

That’s why, Masumi who always acts by following your heart looks so bright to me.

Of course, it’s possible that other members think the same too.

Masumi:

…

Citron:

But, I’m sure everyone thinks that Masumi’s one directional thinking leads you to a good place.

Masumi:

…By the way, why did you call out to me during the flagship performance.

From now on, I’ll try to know more about everyone else…

Citron:

Masumi is a man who will move for the sake of someone you love regardless of any percussion, I think it will be good if you can direct that love to everyone else.

Masumi:

Percussion… repercussion?

Citron:

You’re right. Masumi’s love, if you direct it to everyone else, I’m sure you will be able to get along with everyone.

Masumi:

My love, since now and always will only belong to the Director.

Citron:

Do you really think so?

Nowadays, there are times that I can feel Masumi’s love.

Masumi:

That’s just your excessive self-awareness.

Citron:

During the Quartet performance, it’s because of Masumi that I was able to express my love for Tangerine directly.

I’m really grateful for that.

To repay the favor from that time, I will support Masumi with all I have this time!

I’ll shower Masumi with my love!

Masumi:

You’re annoying.

Citron:

Love is the strongest force.

For the sake of love, you can break your common sense and do crazy stuffs.

Masumi:

Love is, strongest force…

…

“Love is the strongest force, one that will pull you forward, further than any others.” By Citron

Chikage:

It’s a private party in the mansion, huh.

Masumi:

Then, will it be a Close-up performance?

Itaru:

Close-up?

Masumi:

It’s when you do the magic trick right in front of the audience, usually for a small amount of people.

Itaru:

Ah, I see.

It’s a private residence this time, but there would be a small hall there.

The client is Ritchie Marney…

He ranked very high in the list of real estate king in the magazine every single year…

Mr Marney is a connoisseur, he created an art museum on his premises to display his collections from all over the world.

Every year, he would open his house for 3 days 3 nights to showcase those collections, it seems that he called us to be in that demonstration.

Chikage:

It sounds like a good business. Take the job, Kiel.

Masumi:

Please don’t just selfishly decide like that.

Chikage:

I’m the president of this office. I have the authority to.

Director:

Alright, that’s it for today.

Masumi-kun, do you have anything to say?

Masumi:

Everyone, I think you all did a good job interpreting your role.

After that, all the characters in this performance are kinda suspicious, I thought the atmosphere is good too, but I want to try showing something like a gap.

Chikage:

I see.

Sakuya:

I see, I think it’s a good idea!

Director:

(Masumi-kun really grows up. He doesn’t look that enthusiastic being the leader of this performance, but he’s looking at everyone properly.)

Masumi:

Then, if nothing else, that’s it for today.

Director:

Ah, Masumi-kun--

Masumi:

Director:

(Why do I feel like he’s running away from me…

Is he maybe avoiding me?)

Citron:

Director, somehow awe walk with Masumi huh?

Director:

Awe walk…?

Itaru:

Awkward?

Director:

Ah, I see!

Tsuzuru:

I thought he’s been talking normally recently.

Director:

Me too, I don’t remember doing anything that will make Masumi-kun avoid me…

I’ll look at the situation again and try talking to him.

Then, I’ll go off first.

Sakuya:

Good work today!

Chikage:

…

Itaru:

…

Tsuzuru:

…Is it going to be alright?

Itaru:

It’s not that it’s actually caused by Director-san.

Citron:

I talked to Masumi yesterday.

He’s been worried about something.

Chikage:

About love, is it.

Tsuzuru:

Me too, I received some consultation from Masumi.

Sakuya:

Me too.

Citron:

About Masumi, I heard he requested for his character to lost his first love in this script.

Sakuya:

Eh, why did he make such request…

Tsuzuru:

About that… It seems that he had a dream where he’s not together with Director.

Itaru:

So he’s afraid of getting his heart broken and he make a return to ‘negative mode’.

Tsuzuru:

Is it because I told him that he has to support his feelings when subjected to a sad experience.

Maybe he wanted to experience how broken heart feels first by playing it in a role…

Itaru:

What kind of Maso-play is that…

Chikage:

For Masumi, Director-san is his first love after all, so he has never experienced a broken heart before.

Tsuzuru:

That’s why, I think Masumi wants to know how the pain feel, doesn’t he.

Itaru:

Then, this role will be a hard one for him.

Chikage:

He seemed to be normal during the reading just now, I wonder what would happen from now on.

Sakuya:

When it becomes hard for him, let’s all support him with all we have.

Citron:

You’re right.

I intend to do very much so!

Tsuzuru:

You’re right.

Chikage:

I’ll do what I can as the co-lead.

Tsuzuru:

By the way, Sakuya, did you recommend Masumi to hear everyone else’s opinion about love?

Sakuya:

Ah, yes! If it’s only me, I think it won’t be enough…

After all, there are different forms of love, maybe when he heard from everyone, he would be able to understand it better.

Chikage:

You mean, he has been walking around to listen to everyone?

Itaru:

Are you serious.

Citron:

I already answered him!

Sakuya:

So next should be Itaru-san or Chikage-san isn’t it.

Itaru:

…Love stories huh. Well, as his senior in life, I guess I have a bit of story to tell…?

Chikage:

…

Itaru:

How about you, senpai…

Chikage:

Maybe he won’t come to find me.

I’ve already told him that I have no love stories to tell.

Don’t expect too much from me.

I will think of another way to support Masumi.

Sakuya:

But, if Masumi-kun really come to listen to your perception of love, please answer him properly when the time comes.

Chikage:

…If he comes to listen, right.

Itaru:

… I should stop levelling up this skill soon, the next will be…

Masumi:

…

Itaru:

It’s you, Masumi. You need anything?

Masumi:

…That game, let me try it again.

Itaru:

That game?

This one?

Masumi:

Not this one. The one we played during Alice, the one where a character that looks like Director appears.

Itaru:

Ah~ That one.

You can sit there and wait. I’ll get it out now.

Masumi:

…

Itaru:

There it is. This one right?

“B5! Best! Beauty! BigBang! Bishoujo!”

Masumi:

Right.

Itaru:

This opening is so nostalgic.

Here, your controller.

Masumi:

Is it possible to lost your love at the end here?

Itaru:

… is that, for your role study?

Masumi:

Yeah.

Itaru:

Then, first of all, let’s try to do the Director character’s route using the guide, choose exactly as I told you.

Masumi:

Understood.

Itaru:

The first one is A. Next is B

Itaru:

From here on you’re in the Director character’s route, what are you going to do now?

Masumi:

…

Itaru:

If you want to lose her love, you can just make her hate you.

Game Character:

“This time, do you want to go to the aquarium together with me?”

Masumi:

Then, this option should be…

“B: I don’t like fish”

Itaru:

You’re ri—Ah, wait, I customized this part.

The correct answer should be A.

Masumi:

“A: I want to see the dolphin show!”

…Understood.

Game Character:

“Sorry, I don’t like dolphin. As I thought let’s cancel the aquarium plan.”

Itaru:

See.

Masumi:

You’re right…

Itaru:

With this, you’re probably going to get dumped.

Game Character:

“Thank you for always getting along with me, from now on let’s stay as friends!”

Itaru:

See, there you go.

Masumi:

…Are you, the master of lost love?

Itaru:

Let’s leave it as the master of love.

So, what do you feel after actually experiencing lost love?

Masumi:

…

This is a game after all, so it doesn’t mean anything.

Itaru:

That’s not true.

You can learn a lot of things about life by playing games.

Even for me, I’ve learned a lot from playing games.

It will sound like something Tsuzuru said but…

Games and stories are like the same thing.

Immerse yourself in the game storyline and experience life in the eyes of someone else, your heart will be moved.

Afterwards, when you experience something in real life, whatever scenario it is, you would have known how it feels.

Masumi:

… I was lonely, I was sad.

Even if it’s just a game, as I thought it’s hard.

But, I absolutely cannot give up.

Itaru:

…That sounds just like you, Masumi.

Masumi:

What is love for you, Itaru?

Itaru:

Uh…

…Love is, sometimes an impossible game.

Masumi:

Ha?

Itaru:

Without looking at walkthrough, there will definitely be routes that you don’t understand the first time you see it, things like when you need a combination of certain choices…

There’s also route that you can only unlock after unlocking every routes from every other characters.

Masumi:

… I don’t really understand but, you sound like the master of love.

Itaru:

I’ll take that as a compliment

I was talking about games just now, but reality is really like an impossible game.

No matter how much we think about doing things for the sake of other people, in the end we’re just spinning around in place.

Really, human relationship is like an impossible game and it’s annoying.

But, no matter how many times you reach game over, if you build up your strategy and never give up, I think one day you’ll definitely be able to clear it… That is, the real pleasure of an impossible game.

Well, anyway, Masumi can stay as Masumi, just do whatever you want.

I think in the end, that Masumi that sounds like the usual Masumi will always be supported by everyone in Spring Troupe.

Masumi:

…Somehow, you sounded so proud.

Itaru:

I’m your senpai in life, I’m also your father figure in Spring Troupe after all.

“Love is, sometimes an impossible game.” By Chigasaki Itaru

#a3!#a3! act! addict! actors!#a3! translation #spring troupe #sakuya sakuma #chigasaki itaru #chikage utsuki #minagi Tsuzuru #masumi usui #citron

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