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adelheidvonschicksal · 3 years ago

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hiii i hope you are having a nice day:)) can i request a NSFW one shot with megumi where he is your roommate and you both like each other and at one point one of you make a move or they say something about it and yeah that’s it i hope you have a lovely day only do this if you are comfortable with the request<3

Notes: Thank you, nonnie! I've been having a pretty good week :) Here you go, sweetheart.

Pairing: Spikey Boy (Megumi Fushiguro) x Female Reader

Content Warning: NSFW, Domestic Squabbles, Protective Baby <3, modern/no powers AU

Placing his book to his lap, Megumi releases a deep sigh. He can hear you in his room even before you open the door to the apartment.

“You’re such an asshole. I hate you!”

“Ah, a stage 4 fight tonight,” Megumi silently thinks to himself. Megumi didn’t understand why you still dated that boyfriend of yours. Ever since Megumi met him, all it seems like the two of you do is fight all the time.

If you ask him, your boyfriend is loud, arrogant, and an overall unpleasant person that he’d thank the gods to simply make disappear from your lives. For some reason, you claim to want to make it work with him even if Megumi finds the word slut echoing throughout the apartment disgusting when it’s in reference to his friend and roommate.

The escalating situation draws Megumi from his room, and he walks down the hall to find the two of you looking ready to rip each other’s throats out. It isn’t until he sees a fist wrapping around your arm that he makes his move to intervene.

“That’s enough,” he warns, breaking the lock on your forearm and squeezing in between the two of you. The glare he locks on to your boyfriend is deadly. “Get out of my house,” he demands.

Megumi knows that he’s the bigger fighter, the one actually trained in martial arts, and your boyfriend also knows who’d win between the two of them.

It ends with him cursing out at you both. “Have the bitch,” he says, but Megumi knows full well that he’ll probably be calling you tomorrow, filling your head full of apologies then the two of you will be cuddled up on the couch by that evening.

Megumi sighs as the door closes, but he can’t relax until he makes sure that you’re okay. You move to sit on the living room couch, crossing your arms over your chest as you try not to cry.

Slowly, Megumi sits down next to you and folds his hands in his lap. He tries to think of anything to break the uncomfortable silence that’s fallen over the apartment. He’s never been good at comforting you in situations like these even if this isn’t the first time that it’s happened.

He glances at you from the corner of his eye. “Do you…” he begins unsurely before finally forcing the question out, “want to watch a movie?”

Your expression lightens, if only slightly. “Can we watch (f/m)? I know it’s not your favorite but-“

“It’s fine.”

Megumi grabs the remote and navigates his way to Netflix to play that movie he knows you love. The sounds of dialogue playing from the television does well to fill the empty spaces between the two of you as his mind backtracks to the fight. Megumi can’t grasp why you keep someone like that around. What would have happened if he went to the gym with Yuuji instead of coming straight home?

“Why are you even still with that guy anyway?” Megumi breathes out, asking the question that’s been playing on his mind. He didn’t want to bring it up, but it simply escapes him because he couldn’t figure out why. “He’s an asshole.”

“I know he’s kind of rough around the edges, but-“ you pause, eyes flicking back to the images flashing on screen. Megumi patiently waits for your answer for what seems like an eternity. You probably didn’t want to talk about it, but he had to know why this guy was so special. What did your temporarily ex-boyfriend have that he didn’t?

“But?”

You blink at him. “But what?”

“You said but.”

“Well…he only gets that way because you’re around,” you confess.

Megumi scowls, knitting his brows in frustration. “Are you trying to say this is my fault?”

“No, not at all, it’s his. He gets jealous because you’re a boy, and we live together. I told him we knew each other for a long time, and it’s not like we’re doing anything wrong,” you explain.

Megumi grunts but he can’t help but notice how your hand had seamlessly intertwined with his at some point during the movie or how your head lays so perfectly against his shoulder. You said that the two of you weren’t doing anything wrong, so why exactly is it that you always end up in these positions, with your hand fitting so perfectly in his own, and his heart throbbing against his ribcage.

Megumi would probably think you were fucking him on the side too. But Megumi also knows you aren’t like that, the type of girl to play two guys at once, not on purpose. That’s the difference between him and your boyfriend.

“I can kind of get it,” Megumi says lowly, almost whispering. “I’d probably get jealous if my girlfriend had a guy as her roommate even if they weren’t doing anything. Especially if that roommate liked her.”

“And if they had long eyelashes too I bet,” you reply with a weak laugh before softly biting on your lower lip.

“That too, I guess. That’s still no reason to be rough with you, and if I see him do that around me again, I’m going to kick his teeth in.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“You need someone to protect you when you’re being too stupid to do it yourself,” he scolds, his hand squeezing tighter. Your palm is so cold, and he can only think about how he would trade the warmth in his with you if it would make you more comfortable.

You notice that thoughtful look on his face right away. Your eyes fall down to his hand, thick fingers brushing yours, soothingly rubbing away the cold held in them. “…Megumi,” you hesitate, “what are we exactly anyway?”

“Roommates,” he answers, simply and truthfully. You don’t know why your heart aches so much to hear that. You were hoping for something else. Megumi senses your hesitation as well, and he brings his attention back to the corner of the room, where you can’t see the blush on his face. “Unless you don’t want to be.”

He waits for your response, growing nervous the longer it doesn’t come until he finally can’t stand it anymore. “Never mind. Forget it. I know you like that guy for whatever reason,” he backpedals.

Then, there’s a soft pressure against his cheek. He turns to it, his mouth slacking as he sees exactly how close you are. “I like you more than him,” you say sweetly. “I never really thought you felt the same way though.”

“And if I said I did?”

“Then, this happens,” you say and meet his lips with your own. Megumi groans into your mouth, stunned at first but then slowly opens his mouth wider to capture your taste once he realizes that you’re serious. He slides his hands up the length of your neck until he can cup both sides of your face and kiss you deeper.

Megumi didn’t expect this to happen when he came home today. His plan was to shower, eat, then maybe get a few chapters in the book he’s been reading instead your mouth is on his, pliant and wanting, and your moan is vibrating in his throat as your tongue delves deeper into his mouth. How many times did he dream about this exactly?

Too many cold showers to count.

You sink on top of him, and he adjusts himself so that you’re both lying on the couch. His back is to the furniture while you lay on top of him, your hips between his legs and his hand on the back of your head and the other massaging your lower back.

“Shit,” Megumi groans out as your mouth works magic on him. He can feel his growl vibrating deep as you tease the back of his ear with kisses before drawing down the column of his throat, and he rakes his hand over your ass and squeezes. He’s already uncomfortably hard under you, so easily turned on by your touch. His face is beginning to burn with the embarrassment of his precum filling his boxers in an obscene amount. His body has been aching for this so long.

Fuck. Maybe that asshole was right to be wary of him. You make him weak.

“(Name), baby,” he pants, rubbing the back off your thighs to gain your attention. “I wanna see you, wanna see your pretty body. Will you do that for me?”

You sit up and pull your sweater over your head. His hands magnetically grip onto your waist while yours bend behind you to unclasp the last of your bra.

Megumi inhales deeply at the sight, thinking so that’s what you look like underneath those skimpy clothes you wear to bed, underneath the towel that you so casually wear when you travel between the bathroom and your room, leaving the steam of heat rolling off your skin. This is what you’ve been teasing him with. Megumi bites back his moan to keep from drowning your out when he reaches up to cup your breasts and roll your nipples.

“Megumi-kun,” you whine.

You bend over to place another kiss on his lips, letting him swallow down your moan as you straddle his lap. Working up his shirt, you start to kiss the smooth expanse of his stomach, going to his chest until you needed his help to pull his sweatshirt off the rest of the way.

You press your hands to his chest, your eyes scanning over and marveling the lean muscle that is his body. You slide your fingers over the lines of his abs, slowly going down until you’re greeted with the straining lump in his pants. You brush your hand over it and squeeze lightly before leaning back over him and sliding your tongue over dark pink nipples. They were flat against your slick surface but you’re going to be sure to change that as you suck on the dusky disc.

You push under his pants, peeling what’s keeping you from what you wanted. Megumi groans as he feels his clothes slowly unstick from his leaking cock, and your fist wraps around him. His reaction is immediate. His hips snap into your thrusting hand. It isn’t enough though. Call him impatient but he can’t stop imaging how it’d be more perfect with your cunt quivering around his cock instead.

His excitement drives him to grip your wrist and flip you over. He tears off your pants, clumsily yanking them down your legs as his arousal causes him to do the same with your underwear before delving his face greedily into your pussy. He eats you out with vigor. His nose pressing against your clit as his tongue laps and stretches your slit but it’s his hands reaching up to grip your waist and slide down to the outside of your bare thighs then inward to dig into your ass so he can forcefully wrench you towards his open mouth that makes you whine.

Megumi plunges his tongue into you, pulling out and licking the slick rim before bending back into you. His joy at being shoved full throttle against your cunt is amplified by sweet moans bleeding from your lips - a cry of Megumi more, m-more. He craves it much more than having to hear your broken, needy moans drifting through the walls every other night while he’d beat off to the thought of thrusting inside you, watching your breasts jiggle with the motion of his hips.

Groaning against your silky cunt, he can’t take more of this and sits up to take all of you in, in all your naked glory. Eyes glazed, lips parted and puffy from your own tugging no doubt, your hand still skimming your breast with your fingertips barely brushing a taut nipple, you look like absolute bliss. When he kisses you, you can taste yourself still on his lips, and you find your own arousal easy to swallow when personally delivered by him.

“I’m going to fuck you good,” he says, kissing you deeply one last time before pulling away with a smooch, “until all you can think about is me.”

You take in a shuddery breath as your mind wraps around the idea that you’re about to be gifted what you’ve always wanted.

“Do it,” you say, catching even him off guard, “do it, fuck me, please, Megumi.”

He smirks. “My good girl.”

Shuffling his pants, he frees himself and lines himself up with you, not before sliding his head along your slippery folds, gracing his ears with a soft anticipatory whimper from below him. He slides into you slow; his eyes completely focused on the way his meaty cock splits you. As soon as the swollen darkened head breaches, your hips curve up, back arches, and Megumi sucks in a breath as you slide down him. He pulls out, cock shiny in your juices before sinking back into your gushy cunt, a white ring of your cum building at his base as you snugly clutch around him.

Setting a moderate pace, he grips on your hips to support you and repeatedly snap into you. “This, this okay?”

“Mm…” you hum approvingly.

He licks his lips, his stare focused, animalistic as he watches your stomach bend and folds when he bottoms out, thrusting into you until his balls are slapping against you and his cock is completely snugged in your fluttery insides.

He closes his eyes tightly, burning in the memory, before snapping them open to take in the features of your contorting expression. You look absolutely fantastic. “S-Shit,” he groans under his breath. “Wa-Wanted to do this for so long. Thought about you so much.”

You jerk your hips in response. ”How mu,” you try to piece together, but you’re running out of breath in between pants. “much, how much?”

He can’t respond, too engrossed to the wrap of you around him, to the way your voice breaks with the stroke of his ribbing foreskin dragging against your walls. He pulls out, letting his sensitive head stroke back and forth as he admires the way you cling to it then you cry with the forceful drive of his hips and the suddenness of it causing your orgasm to rip through you.

“Love you,” he says, his hips stuttering as he tries to catch up to your high as your walls clamp in a vice. He picks up the speed to fight the friction of you squeezing around him. “Love you, (Name),” he murmurs again.

“L-Love you too. I love you, Megumi. Oooh god,” you reply, your head nodding weakly along with his thrusts as tears pull at the corner of your eyes. Those words sound so sweet coming from your mouth, and he gives a brief smile that breaks into parted lips and a low moan.

“I’m gon’na to cum,” he warns, and you can feel it. His nails dig into your hips and his thrusts are harder, jamming you up. You’re too full to complain though, you almost want to feel him go even harder. “Gonna cum inside you. Please. Please. Please, take it all for me, alright baby, take it all.”

“Uh, uh-huh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” you pant, almost intelligible in the midst of your high, but it’s that permission that has him spilling into you, his thrusts shorter and sharper to smear his cream along your walls and to chase the warmth of both your fluids gushing around him. He thrusts a few more times to ring out the last few drops until both of you are weak and shaky.

Megumi looks at you, breathing hard, mind still a little hazy despite emptying into you. He’s a little flushed as he stares at you but there’s happiness burning directly above his heart that leads him to ask, “You’re going to break up?”

Your eyes meet his, and you smile. “I wanna be yours.”

“Yeah,” Megumi muses, an exhausted yet pleased grin spreading on his face. “I want to be yours, too,” he says before pressing his lips to yours once again.

#megumi smut #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #jjk x reader #megumi jjk #adelssmut #notsfw

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idabbleincrazy · 2 years ago

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When They Least Expected It

Day Five - Spread

Fandom: Angel (Buffyverse)

Rating: M

Pairing: Spangel(us)

Word Count: 344

Warnings: angst, post-slash, hurt/no comfort, Spike whump, no happy ending

Summary: Just when they thought it would never happen again...

A/N: written for @suck-tember

Squares Filled: Horror ( @anyfandomgoesbingo ), Free Space ( @anyfandomdarkbingo ), Serial Killer ( @anyfandomangstbingo ), Chains ( @kinky-things-happen ), Chained to a Bed ( @badthingshappenbingo )

It happened just as Angel was staring down at the lithe, slim body spread out beneath him, slender yet perfectly muscular limbs stretched taut by the magicked chains that held the younger vampire firmly to the mattress. Angel had been captivated by the sight of his boy like this, his eyes running up the length of the replete body, cataloging the already fading red marks scattered across the pale flesh, denoting the path his mouth had taken as he’d teased the blonde to an explosive orgasm. The tug, when it came, was so quick and sudden, Angel hadn’t even had time to clutch his chest and cry out a warning. He got one last brief look at Spike’s crystal blue eyes as they fluttered open and then he was gone.

Blue eyes widened in terrified recognition as the soft smile on his Grandsire’s face twisted cruelly, and Spike barely had a chance to yank futilely at the thick chains binding him to the bed before Angelus’ face shifted and the elder vampire lunged forward, sinking his fangs into Spike’s throat.

“Angelus, don’t”, Spike cried out against the pain tearing through his neck, struggling weakly at his bonds as Angelus drank from him. “Sire…”

Angelus drained him into a nearly comatose state before finally withdrawing his fangs from the torn and bloody throat, Spike’s limp form slumping deadly still against the bed. He fought to retain his consciousness as Angelus climbed out of the bed and began to get dressed.

“Please…don’t…” Spike’s voice was hardly more than a whisper as he watched the brunette walk across the room towards the door. “No…”

Angelus paused in the doorway, turning back to flash an evil grin at the immobilized blonde.

“Oh, don’t worry, I'm not through with you yet, Spikey. We've got a lot of catching up to do, my boy. But first, I've got a…heh, bone, to pick with our dear Wesley."

As the elevator doors closed behind Angelus, Spike screamed until his voice gave out and the blood loss pulled him into a horrified oblivion.

~~~~

All Things Spike: @leatafanfiction @captain-peroxid3

#sucktember2022 #bad things bingo #anyfandomangstbingo #anyfandomdarkbingo #anyfandomgoesbingo #kinky things happen bingo #spangel #lime #dark fic #buffyverse fanfic #a:ts fanfic

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orileysautopartswrites · 2 years ago

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idea for a tmnt au i have that i wanna share :)

gonna list some things and then connect them at the end. this contains material from pretty much all tmnt iterations but the au is under the cut. THIS IS PART 1 BTW. THIS IS ONLY EXPLAINING THE BACKSTORY!

(ps. think of the rise!turtles but also think of 2012!splinter’s design. love rise!splinter but 2012 is more fit for this)

So, you know how in rise the boys were mutated using splinter’s dna?

And shredder used to be a human?

And how splinter and shredder used to be adoptive brothers?

So what if they never fought over Shen? What if they kept a decent relationship?

And thats where my au comes in. Of course, shredder still ends up as a villain but in a different way here.

So, Splinter and Shredder/Yoshi and Saki (while they were still human), fought together to stall the foot clan (which formed due to the prophecy of someone like shredder becoming a reality) from taking over New York because the foot were trying to expand their control beyond Japan. Little did Yoshi and Saki know but the foot had a shit ton of mutagen and were experimenting on the effect of what would happen if human DNA was mixed with the mutagen and then tested on non human creatures. The chosen test subjects were five little turtles, all different types in order to see if it affected the results at all.

When Yoshi and Saki went to try and ambush the foot, THEY ended up getting ambushed and captured by the foot. The foot see this as the perfect timing because now they have two humans that they could experiment on. The foot took Yoshi and Saki’s DNA through blood samples and mixed it in with the mutagen. They injected three turtles with Yoshi’s DNA and two with Saki’s.

When the turtles started to mutate, the foot decided to test an animal DNA mutagen on Yoshi and Saki. Yoshi being given a rat mutagen (of course) and Saki was given lionfish. Yoshi’s body reacted well to the mutagen and he mutated into the splinter everyone knows. But Saki’s body rejected the DNA. Deadly spikes grew all along his body but he wasn’t having a good reaction. He subconsciously tried tearing out the spikes that would grow back instantly when and if he was successful. He was tearing himself apart to try and stop the mutagen but was never successful. And all Yoshi could do was watch as his own brother was violently trying to jump out of his own skin.

However, this struggle that Saki was putting up proved to be beneficial because he broke out of the glass cage that he was trapped inside. He managed to keep it together for a few moments to break Yoshi out of his glass cage too but told Yoshi to get the turtles and run.

When Yoshi got to the room with the turtles, one was missing already. Two of the foot soldier’s had taken one for some tests but fled when hearing the commotion that Saki was making. Yoshi, not having enough time to go after them, took the four turtles left and ran as far away as he could, taking refuge underneath a bridge a few miles away from where they had been kept. His vision now blurred from the new rat vision, unfortunately.

Yoshi eventually made the decision to name the turtles. He took pieces of ripped fabrics from his clothes and wrapped the fabrics loosely around the turtles necks to be able to differentiate them better now that everything was so blurry. The one with the red fabric, he named Raphael. Purple, Donatello. Blue, Leonardo. And Orange, Michelangelo. He took on the responsibility of raising these turtle mutants, doing everything in his power to make sure they don’t end up like what his brother has become.

Saki ended up being detained by the foot and they continued to experiment on him. Slowly, they turned him into what would be known as the Shredder. The foot mutated him over and over again with multiple poisonous and spikey creatures. With every one mutagen he rejected, he was given three more to compensate.

The fifth turtle, the one who was taken by the foot soldiers nicknamed Bebop and Rocksteady, was brought to a little apartment to grow up in. On their way out they had been mutated by spilled mutagens. One of a rhino and one of a warthog. They hid the turtle, who they named Venus, from the foot and raised her on their own.

As the years went by and the turtles grew up and everyone got used to their mutated forms, Yoshi, now Splinter, kept everything that had happened that one day a secret from his sons. The two who were created from Saki, Leo and Mikey, had no idea that splinter wasn’t their father. Splinter saw it best that he shouldn’t tell them the truth. Leo always looked up to Splinter and Splinter believed that it would destroy Mikey to find out that he’s the son of the one who’s been trying to destroy his family.

He swore to himself secretly that no matter what happens, he will never let his sons down. But wether or not that meant only his biological kids or not, it would depend.

#tmnt #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise splinter #rise mikey #rise raph #rise leo #rise donnie #shredder tmnt #venus tmnt #bebop and rocksteady #2012 tmnt

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wickedgamesoyaoya · 4 years ago

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The arrival of the MSBY Ace solidified the harsh reality the Onigiri Miya owner was struggling to accept. It was quite clear in his text exchanges with the Ace that you would not be accompanying him to retrieve your belongings. It would defeat the purpose of sending him. Nonetheless, a dim spark of hope ignited inside of his chest upon hearing the delicate knock on the apartment door. Mentally he scolded himself, recognizing that he would likely be disappointed by who was stood behind the barrier. Yet he could not extinguish the emotion threading through his heart, warming it for the first time in twenty-four hours.

When Osamu did answer the posed permission to enter, he was greeted by Bokuto, whose happy demeanour melted into an apologetic one upon seeing grief darken his already cloudy eyes. The sight reminded the professional athlete of a stormy sky seconds from unleashing a deadly downpour.

“Hey. Sorry, she’s not here. I’m just the messenger.” Bokuto doubted the cook would shed any tears in his presence, vulnerability was something his friend hid behind a perfectly cultivated mask. The only people privileged enough to explore the area behind the mask were you, and Atsumu. Which he did not mind. The only issue was that recently, even you were denied access to the emotions splattered violently behind the veil. It was something that contributed to the eventual collapse of your relationship, a fact Osamu realized a bit too late.

“You don’t have to apologize. This is my fault.” And, if I lose her, that’s on me too – he mentally added, ache clenching his organs. Averting his gaze to the carpet below, he stepped aside to grant the Ace access to the apartment.

The bag that Osamu packed with your essential items was located on the kitchen table. A suitcase also rested nearby, containing the larger items that he was unable to fit into the carry on piece. Bokuto thanked him for having everything prepared well in advance. The cook responded with a low exhale of acknowledgement.

Would it be enough, though? Or would he soon lose every trace of you from the apartment?

And if you one day planned on retrieving the remainder of your belongings, could he ask you take him too?

The inquiry brought water to blur his vision as a bitter laugh bubbled from within him. He quickly discharged the liquid with the tips of his fingers, knowing well he did not deserve Bokuto’s pity.

But Bokuto did not catch the moment of vulnerability, fatefully he was in the bedroom, searching for the one item you presumed would not have been packed – an album. Not just any album, it was the one dedicated to every major event in your life. It was a collection of happiness, and right now you were deprived of that exact emotion. You secretly hoped viewing the photographs would provide you some solace, even if it were just wishful thinking.

Ten minutes later, the MSBY player had the duffle bag swung over his shoulder, and the suitcase handle in his grasp. Osamu noticed the album tucked under his arm but elected not to inquire why that was required for a business trip to Brazil.

“Alright. I think I got everything!” A wide smile was beamed towards the somber twin as Bokuto adjusted the strap, preparing to exit the apartment.

“Before you go… Can you answer something for me?” As soon as the question rolled off his lips, he instantly regretted it. Why ask a question, if you do not want to know the answer? Ignorance is bliss, so why was he attempting to destroy the single thread of hope he was clinging to?

“I can try.” The athlete shifted awkwardly, he knew the question would involve you – and there was only so much he could disclose on the topic.

“Is she still wearing it?” The cook’s heart sunk into the pit of his stomach, producing a nauseating sensation to fill him. He should have not asked – why did he ask –

“Yeah. She is.” In a signal of encouragement, Bokuto reached out to lightly squeeze his friend’s shoulder. “Hang in, buddy. She’ll talk to you when she’s ready.” It hurt him to witness his two close friends in pain, he sincerely prayed for their reconciliation; but he knew it was not guaranteed. Not all damage could be repaired, after-all.

After issuing a weak response of gratitude, the MSBY Ace exited the apartment, leaving Osamu to untangle the web of thoughts your absence left with him.

The incident that threatened your future together had only occurred twenty-four hours ago, but every minute that passed increased the uncertainty haunting him – did he even have a future left to protect? He desperately yearned to speak with you; to hear the softness in your voice that was reserved only for him, to explain the truth and to apologize for his mistakes. But your request for space had to be respected – after witnessing what occurred yesterday, it was a just demand, one he could not object. The only option available was to wait until you were ready to speak with him. Pressuring you into delving into matters that stemmed from his incompetence was not something he was prepared to do. But he did hope that you would someday return to him, and as long as that ring remained in your grasp, he would continue to cling to that sliver of hope.

He required a moment to gather the courage to move from his post at the front door. When he did finally enter the bedroom, his gaze caught something he originally presumed to have packed. The stuffed teddy bear sat on the vanity was your travelling companion. You had even set up an Instagram for the toy, with the handle – Adventures with Teddiursa. He had bought you the plushie a year ago as an apology for being unable to join you on your various business trips. After complaining about the lack of a ‘snuggle-partner’, he surprised you with the stuffed bear resembling one of your favourite Pokémon. You often claimed that it was your favourite gift; it even surpassed the diamond ring on your finger.

He knew he had to get it to you.

There was a chance he could meet Bokuto at the lobby if he took the stairs. Scooping up the plushie, the cook slid into a pair of shoes, not bothering to properly put them on before dashing out into the hallway. If he couldn’t provide you the comfort you needed – maybe the fluffy piece within his grasp could.

But when he arrived at the lobby, the Ace was nowhere to be found. In a final attempt to locate him, Osamu walked to the street level, scanning the familiar area for the spikey haired player. What he found instead was a beautiful girl, slurring arguments into her phone while squinting at the colourful lights hanging above her.

Fate had somehow brought him to you.

Let’s do it again, shall we - storm

Masterlist - Previous - Next

A/N: I feel like my writing skills get so sloppy whenever I read a lot of case law so if this sucks, ~ I AM SORRY ~

taglist: @idiot-juice-enthusiast @vicassa @iloveanime691 @bringmelily @newfriendjen @hikarichannn @anime-simp @tsukkismamagucci @laughingismorefun @astronomyturtle @shegrewupwithoutafather @hyskoa1998 @deephumandragonperson @pretty-setter-bois @raenebalgaire @sugawarabby @justanotherfangirl2 @keijisworld @90s-belladonna @momoinot @sempiternal-amour @cherryblosom111 @yqshirov @haikyuufairy @volleybloop @bloody-bella @sadkaashistan @seikamuzu @namyari @toaster-stick @coconut-dreamz @roseestuosity @prcttylittlcthing @uzumakioden @nerdynstoned @kenmasgameboy @unstableye @ouijaeater15 @aquariarose @fandomtrashpandasposts @helloalex80 @stfucanunot @envyusshades @cuddlesslut @seijohiseliterambles @chaichai-the-weeb @meiikuki @cuddlejeongin @tchalameme @ditu-m9 @elianetsantana

Taglist continued in the comments from my personal ❣️

#osamu x you #osamu scenario #osamu x reader #hq osamu #osamu smau #osamu miya #miya osamu #osamu x y/n #haikyuu smau #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu

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funkzpiel · 4 years ago

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Wade in the Water | Grindelgraves

Warnings/Tags: Non-Con, Transformation, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Kidnapping, Mermaid Transformation, Mermaid!Grindelwald, Human-to-Mermaid!Graves, Rape/Non-con Elements, Breast Growth, Forced Feminization, Oviposition, Impregnation, Eggpreg Summary: Grindelwald finally corners Graves, but in his enemy he finds an unlikely opportunity. Never before had he found a man powerful enough to be his match, to be his mate -- until now. [a/n] I recently removed a lot of fics from AO3. I thought most of them still lived here in Tumblr, but I was wrong. If there's anything you guys miss, feel free to ask! Anon mentioned this one, so here we go ~

He was tired; not just tired, but weary down to his very bones. Fresh from a magical creature trafficking bust, he was practically dead on his feet. He had been well and truly ready to go home after he had just finished his preliminary paperwork when a squeaking little note had crawled onto his desk and unraveled into his hands with a flourish. One of his informants had intel about the rash of strange “gas explosions” across the city. They hadn’t really been gas explosions, of course; merely a fabrication that had concocted the moment they saw the severity of the destruction.

Got info on your dark cloud. Docks, midnight. I’m not sticking around, you’ve got one shot. G.

Graves frowned. It was unusual to hear from Gnarlak directly; even more so not to be directed to just meet at his pub. Whatever information the goblin had for him, it was good and it was dangerous – not to mention expensive, no doubt. Graves sighed and stood, his head heavy between his shoulders as he braced himself against his desk for a moment. He took a deep, trembling breath and tried to ignore the ache in his ribs from a potshot one of the traffickers had managed to strike him with. He hid it well until now, unwilling to worry his aurors, but he knew what must lay beneath his vest and shirt. He could feel the heat of the injury through his thin clothes when he brushed over it with his fingers. He knew the skin beneath was no doubt hot with internal bleeding, mottled and purple. Perhaps even somewhat uneven, if any of the bones were broken.

Consumed as he was in his evaluation, he didn’t notice when his most junior auror slipped through his door carrying a mountain of paperwork. Jace Wayland was a thin, willowy thing. Baby faced with big blue eyes that could stop people in their tracks. In all honesty he looked nothing like an auror. He looked as though a good, firm breeze could knock him over; but he was tenacious – more so than Graves had encountered in a junior in a long time. In what he lacked physically, he more than made up for mentally. Sharp as a tack and faster than even his best investigators, although he had never told the boy that. Humility bred caution, after all, and he wanted the boy to make it to a full position. Curious if he could.

“M-Mr. Graves, here are all the leads you asked for me to follow up on while you were out…”

Graves heard it the moment the boy’s words trailed off, the moment he noticed the director’s grimace. IT was too late to cover it up now; the boy knew. He cursed beneath his breath.

“Mr. Graves, are you hurt?”

Graves sniffed loudly and slowly straightened his back into something more regal and commanding than the figure he no doubt cut while doubled over on his desk. He ignored the fiery blaze of agony blaring along his right side and addressed the boy as if nothing were the matter.

“Mr. Wayland... It’s late, why aren’t you home?” He asked. Annoyed to have been caught when no one should be left at the office. Impressed, however, by the child’s drive.

“This seemed important,” the boy said lamely.

“Everything will always seem important,” Graves said, knowing full well the irony of the words leaving his lips. The pot calling the kettle black. “You must take time to recharge or you’ll drive yourself mad.”

“O-of course,” Jace said, but his eyes were still on Graves’ ribs and he knew the subject wasn’t done. “Did the raid go well?”

“Swimmingly,” Graves said shortly as he drew his coat from his chair and made a show of putting it on without ever once letting slip a grimace. Even when he felt something distinctly pop. He began to sweat. “The traffickers were apprehended with minimal casualties to either side.”

“That’s great news. Are you headed home?”

“Not quite,” Graves said, fingers trailing over the little worn out note on his desk before he set the little slip aflame.

“But sir, you—“

Graves shot him a cold, challenging look and watched the boy’s confidence wilt before his eyes. Surprisingly, however, Jace simply clutched his papers tighter and frowned.

“We’re not supposed to do anything alone, sir.”

Graves scowled. The boy was right. It was a rule that they were not supposed to act on any lead alone. Clever child, he saw the note for what it was and knew exactly what to say. What sort of leader created rules they did not themselves abide by? Graves glared at him, assessing, before finally he let loose a small sigh and said, “Get your things, Mr. Wayland. Let’s make this quick.”

The boy scampered off before Graves had so much as a moment to change his mind and somewhere in the back of his head, he felt a niggling. He scowled, but the feeling was lost to him before he could think much more of it – burned away by the low, hot hum of his aching ribs.

❇

The docks were quiet; silent in a way that set Graves’ teeth on edge. There was no late night rush of strangers wasting their money at the dingy bar down the street. No dock workers, no gulls.

Something was terribly wrong, Graves just didn’t know what.

What he did know was that he was cold, but also hot. There was a thin film of sweat growing at his brow, and he felt simultaneously smothered by his coat and scarf, and freezing. He shivered despite himself, his eyelids heavy, and clenched his fists a little tighter in the safety of his coat pockets. It was ten past midnight and that rotten little goblin had stood him up. He should have known better than to trust the creature; wicked and cruel as it was. Gnarlak was a valuable informant, but he wasn’t exactly a trustworthy one, and Graves was just beginning to wonder if he should stop by The Blind Pig and have a little chat about certain privileges the goblin was enjoying when Jace finally sighed beside him.

“Well that’s rather disappointing,” the boy pouted, arms crossed to keep him warm.

“Ah, yes. This would have been your first time meeting with an informant,” Graves said softly. He sniffed, nose running from the cold, and shrugged a little deeper into the overwhelming heat of his coat. “It’s not as exciting as you think, Mr. Wayland. Gnarlak would have just haggled us for some cheap line about something we likely already knew. Hardly exciting detective work.”

Beside him, the boy scoffed.

“Then why do we keep him as an informant?”

“Because he might have useful information,” Graves said simply as he gave his surroundings outside the mooring house one last check. “And the possibility of good information is more valuable than the risk of losing that information just because we’re tired of Gnarlak’s bullshit.”

Jace raised his brows at him, surprised by his language. Graves’ dipped his head ever so slightly in concession.

“Apologies. I’m rather tired. Let’s call it a night, Jace. There’s always tomorrow.”

“Of course, sir.”

Graves turned to head back to their disapparition point, his mind caught on thoughts of what he would do once he got home. He’d take a Dreamless Drought, he thought pleasantly. He’d numb his ribs with a bit of mint oil and take a long, hot shower. And once he was clean and his muscles mush from the pounding water, he’d slip into his bed and—

He stilled.

Jace was not beside him.

He turned to look back, concerned, only to be struck right between his shoulders before he could so much as spin halfway around. He let out a shout, the sound pulled from his lips mercilessly as the ferocity of the spell shook his ribs within his chest. He couldn’t breathe, the air knocked from his lungs. He wheezed and scrabbled around, wand at the ready despite his trembling, and prepared to fire a volley of cover fire for Jace only—

Only Jace was the one that had hit him.

Gone was the baby faced boy that sought to please him. In his place was a young man, his large blue eyes a cold and deadly stare that chilled Graves to his core. He even stood differently than his junior auror had. Back straight, jaw squared. Quite like… well, quite like Graves himself, when his ribs weren’t busy trying to dissolve into dust within his chest. A painful, whistling breath escaped him.

“Jace?”

“Not quite,” the boy said, an eerie smile on his cherub face. “But it is a name of mine, yes. Occassionally.”

Graves gripped at his ribs, his breath short from the other man’s sucker punch of a spell as before his eyes Jace’s visage melted away. He became taller – taller even than Graves – and broader too.

His skin grew if possible paler, and his young golden locks became short, spikey white points standing atop his head. But all it took was one look at his eyes to know he had been a terrible, terrible mistake coming here injured.

Those haunting, mismatched eyes belonged to Gellert Grindelwald. His enemy, an international terrorist, and likely soon to be his murderer.

Graves grit his teeth. His skin itched to be gone from there, to disapparate and get help – but through the pain he knew he was too distracted to perform the delicate spell without getting splinched. Were only his ribs howling, maybe, but the spell had left his back a mottled mess of agony as well; as though he had been hit by a train rather than a simple stunning spell.

His knees felt weak and he staggered, but still he held up his wand. Across from him – pristine and perfect – Grindelwald tsked at him sympathetically.

“Poor Mr. Graves,” he purred, “No one truly looks at you, do they? Your power has blinded them to your weaknesses. No one noticed your injury. No one insisted to see you home. And after tonight, no one will notice when you’re replaced.”

Dread pooled in his belly like liquid lead. Mercy Lewis, he intended to infiltrate MACUSA in a position of power. He couldn’t let that happen.

He tried to hold his wand steadier, but it only seemed to make the shaking of his exhausted limbs worse.

“Not going to happen,” he bit out simply. Grindelwald quirked a brow at him and made a show of looking him up and down.

“You know it’s unfortunate you’re against my cause, director, because I like you. You are a just leader, respectful of your staff from the lowest rung to the highest. You instilled great practices in your men and women, and even encouraged unlikely souls like Jace to strive for excellence when no one else gave him the time of day. It doesn’t have to be this way, you know. You could join me.”

Graves snorted even though it made his ribs ache and his spine sing and said, “Join you? You truly are mad if you think I would ever join you.”

Grindelwald made a show of sighing in disappointment and said remorsefully, “C’est la vie.”

Graves had no more warning than that before the man’s knobby wand was up and directed at him, one arcing spell after another flinging at him. With one hand, Graves directed the first blow away while attempting to side step the second, but it caught the barest edge of his shoulder and sent him staggering. He needed to get on the offensive, he knew, and yet he couldn’t find the time to do much more than barely avoid Grindelwald’s attacks. Magic screamed in the empty air of the docks, pulling up huge chunks of concrete and destroying cannisters around them.

Grindelwald had no mind for secrecy. His attacks were needlessly wild and destructive – and Graves realized the man intended for his spells to do more damage to the world around them than to Graves himself. He wanted to leave a scene behind. He wanted the No-Majs to know.

Graves had to risk it, he had to disapparate. He wouldn’t make any true distance that would get him to safety, but he could make it a few feet – and that would have to be enough.

He disappeared behind the light of another arcing spell before it could hit him and reappeared – breathless but whole – behind Grindelwald a moment later. He gathered his power as fiercely as he could and let lose a stunning spell that sent Grindelwald flying across the jagged pavement he had torn asunder and into a heap by the dock and the water.

Graves heaved a breath he couldn’t catch and moved to stand over his foe, to wrap him in chains and call for help, but as he stepped forward darkness began to creep around the edges of his vision.

“No,” he murmured, as though by words alone he could convince himself that he was fine. “No, no, no, not now.”

He took another two or three steps before his knees turned to jelly and bit the concrete. He cried out and he cursed raggedly beneath his breath, then finally looked up to find his enemy gone. He turned quickly to try and spot him and the shadows in his peripherals got worse. He wanted to vomit. He wanted to sleep.

He heard the sound of someone coming up beside him on his other side too late. He turned right into a spell that felt more like a punch to the face than anything constructive or purposeful. He shouted wetly, blood already slicking his lip, and knew immediately his nose was most certainly broken.

He tried to scrabble to his feet but Grindelwald shoved him back down to his knees mercilessly.

When Graves looked up, the man looked none the worse for wear. It seemed entirely unfair. Panic began to build inside his chest.

“W-why are you doing this?” Graves gasped wetly, his teeth shiny with blood from his broken nose. “Do you really hate the No-Majs so much that you would jeopardize the safety of your own kind?!”

Grindelwald towered over him, a menacing shadow with a shock of white hair and a shining pearly slit of a smile. He clucked his tongue and bent down at the hips so that he was invading the director’s space. With quick fingers, he snatched Graves’ chin between his thumb and forefinger, and tipped his gaze up to lock with his own unnatural stare.

“Oh my dear director,” he cooed, “Witches and wizards are not my kin. It is, however, because of them that my kind cannot enjoy this world as we should. We remain holed up in dark caves and murky waters and sinister alcoves, unable to journey back to our motherlands – filled with rich flora and soft sands and sunlight – because your kind is too afraid to put humans in their place. Too afraid of ‘exposure’.”

Graves blinked, his teeth-bared sneer melting into cautious confusion. One of his pupils wasn’t contracting anymore, concussed. Blood oozed sluggishly from his nose, his temple, his hair line.

“What do you mean, witches and wizards aren’t your kin?”

There was a tremble to his voice that Graves tried his best to hide, but Grindelwald caught it all the same. The madman smiled and when he did, two little canines became readily visible in his mouth.

Graves flinched.

“Rather presumptuous of you to assume your greatest enemy was a wizard, Mr. Graves. Don’t you think?” He chuckled. “I expected more from MACUSA’s greatest.”

“What are you?”

“It’s a little too late for that information to help you now, don’t you think?”

Graves’ mouth pressed into a firm, resigned line. He jerked his chin free of Grindelwald’s grasp and squared his jaw a little tighter, tipped his chin a little higher, and glared.

“Do your worst.”

He braced himself, jaw so tight it hurt, but forced himself not to close his eyes. He’d meet his end head on, he told himself. If nothing else, he would do that much.

Seconds ticked by and yet, nothing happened.

Grindelwald felt a little pang in his heart that he had not felt in years. His blood quickened in his veins, magic flush and excited just below his skin. He sucked in a quick, harsh breath and then let it out in a loud, slow, stuttering laugh – surprised, amused, enticed.

Intrigued.

“You are quite fascinating for a wizard, Percival,” Grindelwald smiled. He lifted his hand first to the man’s neck, his grip loose and suggestive as he thumbed the director’s fragile Adam’s Apple, and waited for a reaction. When no begging came, no crumpled expression, no fear, he then lifted that hand higher and brushed his thumb over the painful swelling of Graves’ broken nose and set it back to its proper place with magic. He smiled when he caught the noticeable surprise on Graves’ face. A startled blink and a soft, relieved sigh to finally have the throbbing in his face ebb away.

“Wha--?”

Grindelwald didn’t give him another moment to ponder it. He then brought his hand to cover the man’s eyes and compelled him to sleep with a soft, whispered spell. Exhausted as Graves was, the effect was instantaneous. He caught the director by the shoulders just before he could crumple completely to the ground and gently scooped him into his arms. He looked down fondly at the face of his unconscious potential mate-to-be and smiled.

“Oh what fun you’ve turned out to be, Percy dear. Oh what fun indeed.”

❇

Graves woke somewhere far away from New York, that much was clear right away. In the night’s air a chill had crept over him, but he could tell from the fine powder of the sand that he was somewhere warm and tropical, the sun having absorbed into it all day and only just beginning to fade.

His eyes fluttered – disoriented – as he was lifted momentarily in bodily jerks, the sound of popping buttons confusing him as they pattered uselessly to the sand around him. He was eased out of his shirt, then two hands ran down the length of him from his shoulders, over his tight chest, down the flat span of his stomach to stop at the hem of his trousers. He opened his eyes and took in the visage of his captor haloed in the sway of glittering palms. Palms unlike he had ever seen, their leaves pale like silver and glowing like stars in the darkness.

Above him, Grindelwald smiled kindly.

“Finally awake, sweetheart?”

Something fuzzy worsened in his head, making his mind feel stuffed with cotton and the pressure behind his eyes suffocating. He closed them and that felt a little better. Grindelwald chuckled softly, murmuring a soft ‘sleepy boy’ beneath his breath like a song. His shoes and socks were removed and his chill got sharper. His pants were jerked from his hips in rough pulls and thrown to join his shoes. Finally, his underwear joined them and he was naked in the sand, skin tan in contrast to the snow white of the particles that covered him.

Gentle hands cupped his cock and held it from his body as though weighing it. Distantly he caught Grindelwald murmur, “Large, and yet you could still be viable…”

What came next was stranger still, making the fog in his head flutter alarmingly as something screamed deafly to be heard. Something cold and long and soggy was stuck to his skin in a strip, then another and another, one after the other in a strange crosshatch. He opened his eyes with a wince and a little frown, and leaned up muzzily onto his elbows to look down to his hips where Grindelwald was sticking long stripes of seaweed onto him, murmuring unintelligibly all the while.

Words that slid through Graves’ mind like oil, too slick to catch but leaving runny trails in his mind as they passed by.

Grindelwald clucked his tongue disapprovingly and eased him down by the shoulders until he was prone once again, a whisper of magic making him drowsy once more, too heavy to move. He groaned, confused and exhausted, as hands lifted his legs in a rhythm of up and down, up and down – winding his lower body in seaweed and other marine plant life until his legs were bound together from hips to ankles like a worm.

“It’s almost over, love,” the man leaned over and said into his hair, lips murmuring into his scalp.

Something wasn’t right. This wasn’t right. What wasn’t right? The fog began to drift and thin. He was lifted into a pair of strong arms, sand falling from his back in a tinkle of dust that sparkled in the moonlight. He heard the sound of feet walking through water. Graves blinked and looked down. Grindelwald was walking them slowly, deliberately into the water. That was strange, he thought. But it would feel so good. His skin itched for it. Ached to be cooled of his fever. To be slick and chill and free. He let one hand droop down, eager for the water’s embrace, and Grindelwald chuckled.

“Such a good boy for me,” he praised. “So ready, so perfect. I knew you would be. We were made for each other, you and I. Destined to be mates.”

Graves moaned as his head suddenly throbbed. Mates… Mates with Grindelwald. Mates with… his enemy. The word clicked in his mind and he gasped like suddenly immerging from the water after staying down for too long. The docks, Jace, Grindelwald – he had been kidnapped and – wildly he reached for his magic, one hand out to blast Grindelwald away from him while he could still fall in shallow water and claw his way safely back to shore without drowning.

It didn’t come. Instead of his magic appearing as he envisioned, he felt it siphon from his palms and travel his veins down to the seaweed that embalmed him, absorbing it and warming around his flesh. His legs began to tingle, as well as his crotch, sending his heart into a fitful blaze.

“Ah, you’re back,” Grindelwald said with a smirk that bled into the tone of his words, “Just in time.”

“What are you—Are you fucking crazy?!” The words exploded from his mouth in a gush as surprisingly temperate water – not warm, but pleasantly cool, pleasantly refreshing – greeted first his ankles, then up his calves and the seat of his ass. He tried to kick out, but the seaweed was stronger than he could have imagined, so strong that it didn’t even stretch when he tried to spread his legs to break it. He pressed at Grindelwald with his hands, but the man only chuckled and continued to march them into the sparkling waters of the lagoon.

“Grindelwald,” he gasped as the water reached his navel, unable to hold back the desperation that was beginning to claw its way up his throat. He couldn’t swim like this, he’d drown, holy fuck Grindelwald was going to drown him.

His guts churned as death approached for a second time that night and he felt fear loosen his throat for a plea, for begging, but the words fell to dust in his mouth as the water turned Grindelwald’s clothing to specks of stars, hovering above the pool of water and lighting the way to its depths in the middle of the lagoon.

“Don’t worry, darling, I’ve got you,” Grindelwald said, utterly unphased. “You wizards, you think you’re the most powerful generation this world has yet to spit from its womb; but time has made you deaf to the old stories and that only makes you blind. What use is all that power to a blind mind? Cut off from the Old Ways, throwing temper tantrums with your spells and foci like children. But you… You’re the closest I��ve seen to the men from the old times and the Old Ways. The most viable wizard I’ve seen in a long, long time.”

Viable. That word again.

“What the fuck are you talking about?!”

Grindelwald ignored him. The water embraced Graves to his shoulders, his neck. His breath accelerated. Fear seized his lungs like a vice and he craned his neck to stay above the water. He was going to drown—

Grindelwald took advantage of his open-mouthed plea for air, surging down to plunder him. He sucked Graves’ bottom lip between his teeth and he bit him, sharp canines piercing soft flesh.

Graves shoved at his shoulders and chest, and surprisingly Grindelwald released his lip, his smile bloody and pleased. Graves touched his swelling lip, red smearing across his fingertips, and tongued the puncture marks – deep and only on the inside of his lip. The punctures tasted strange; tangy like copper, yes, but something else. Salt water, maybe. Sharp and earthy.

His eyes were positively owlish when he looked up at Grindelwald, he knew, but it was hard to feel embarrassed when he was so damn confused, when his heart was hammering so hard, when his mouth was so full of that taste, quickly turning sweet. The more he licked and worried at it, the more the tingling in his crotch quickened and increased, spreading up his belly, enveloping him in a most concerning way.

“What—?” He managed to babble before one of Grindelwald’s hand came up to frame his jaw, searching for something so intensely it stole Graves’ focus for just a moment, before he swept one thumb to trace his lower lip and said, “You are going to be beautiful.”

Then Grindelwald let him go.

He managed one horrified yelp before the water embraced him.

Grindelwald’s image warped above him from beneath the water, his skin suddenly teal and white, glimmering strangely. He watched as Graves sank, hands thrashing to give him the push he needed to rise, but his bound legs anchored him down. He screamed and wriggled, his magic lashing out wildly and with abandon, but the seaweed ate everything up and the tingling just grew. It accumulated in his crotch and his waist, gathering in his chest, the sides of his neck, all down his legs and feet. The water pressed in on him unnaturally, and even though he had only sank a few feet it weighed on him as though it were trying to compress him, change his very shape. His scalp began to itch, his bones ached. Finally he screamed and the water came to claim him, and he welcomed it if it meant the endless pain would finally, finally end.

He awaited death; surely he could escape it no longer. A shadow passed in the water, quick like a dart. The edges of his vision began to grow black, the taste of the sea so fierce in his mouth and then there were lips on his, breathing what felt like heavy, glossy air back into his lungs. He latched onto the owner of those lips, nails digging in like a knife through butter as he clutched tight to them, breathing them in. When their lips parted, he surged forward for more, terrified he’d die, he’ drown, he’d – but the water ran through his lungs like fresh meadow air and he breathed.

He breathed underwater.

When next he opened his eyes, the world was as clear as it would have been on land, every inch of the depths of the lagoon painfully visible to him. It was unnatural, infeasible, and yet his heart still pounded at the wonder of it all. It was terrifying and yet amazing.

He was a good number of feet down now, nearly at the bottom. Hands grabbed his jaw and turned him, filling his vision with another man’s face – Grindelwald’s face – only it was different now.

His skin was flecked with pearly white scales that framed the very edges of his cheeks and brows, the length of his neck, his ribs and followed a trail down to –

Graves’ mind froze as he took in Grindelwald’s tail, just as pearly as the rest of him like a shroud of death, his fins gossamer and floating beautifully. He was broad like this, muscled in ways Graves hadn’t anticipated, and at his neck something fluttered. Gills, Graves realized. The man had gills.

“Mermaid,” Graves gasped dumbly. Something swirled in front of his eyes, making him jerk back, but those hands held his face close, stopping him from pulling away.

“No,” Grindelwald said, eyes suddenly so hungry. “Merman is the word you’re looking for. I’m not the Mermaid, sweetheart, you are.”

Then that hand raised and grabbed a swirl of that inky blackness that had swayed into his vision, stretching it between them until finally Graves felt a slight pull on his scalp. It was his hair, he realized, only longer than it had ever been, curling around him like a halo as it danced in the water.

Not a hint of grey in it either.

“So beautiful,” Grindelwald said, soft and slow like he was looking at a miracle. “Do you know how our kind is made, Percival?”

Percival. As though they were intimate; anything other than enemies. Our kind, like he was one of them – a creature of the sea. Beneath the seaweed his skin itched and ached.

“They can be born, yes, but the process is a long one. We’re hunted now. Relentlessly. Our mates cannot rest in the cool waters of our mating lagoons to grow fat and bear life because they cannot make the swim to them before they’re picked off. Babes are few and far between, our grounds destroyed by humans and development, and we can’t fight back because of these infernal statues of secrecy. We are near extinction, and yet the magical world turns a blind eye to us so they can remain comfortable. But there are other ways to create life. The wizards and witches that remember the Old Ways, the ones powerful enough to survive, they can be changed. Like you’ve been changed. And now we are one powerful Mer-creature closer to beating extinction.”

No, he thought, eyes wide and tears eaten by the lagoon as he shook his head in the frame of those hands. No, no, no.

He shoved the man away and reeled, disoriented, as his legs kicked awkwardly. Each thrash loosened the wrappings that kept him prisoner though, so he kicked harder, feeling them peel away like the petals of a flower on a sudden, crisp fall morning. The more he kicked the more the itching and the aching stopped, and he sucked in a sigh of relief as they faded away and finally he could move, he could swim.

But it felt wrong. He couldn’t separate his legs, everything beneath his hips felt alien and cumbersome. He flailed in the water frustratedly before finally twisting to look at his legs, convinced there was still some seaweed trapping him tight, only to find all of the seaweed gone.

Gone like his legs. Instead everything from his hips down was a solitary, powerful column of muscles that tapered down to a single thin joint and bloomed into a set of large, silky looking fins.

He was covered in scales, rich like blazing emeralds and tipped in black, contrasting strikingly against the paleness of his belly where scales turned to skin once more. His forearms where flecked with it; his belly, his ribs, his chest. And he was smooth. Genderless looking.

His prick was gone.

“The fuck…” he wheezed, hands shaking as he moved them over the flatness of his scales and new appendage. “What the fuck!”

Grindelwald swam up to and swatted his hands away, then grabbed his slender hip by one large hand and began to run the fingers of his other over a select group of scales, voice gentle as he reassured him.

“Ssh, ssh, ssh, you’re all right. It’s here,” he purred, and Graves could only suck in a sharp breath as his scales fluttered, nerves alight in a manner he couldn’t even comprehend but knew was arousing. Grindelwald pet that place again and again, the tip of one nail parting a few and slowly creating a seam Graves hadn’t even realized was there. From this seam his flesh began to part and slowly, ever so slowly, a small protrusion began to appear – pink, tender and tapered.

And small. At least half the size he remembered it.

“Ah,” Grindelwald said, “Not quite done yet are we?”

Graves had no more warning than that. Grindelwald began to stroke it, cooing over how perfect it was soon going to be, and Graves felt his body melt into the man’s hold. His eyes rolled and a strange, melodic purring began to emit from his throat, vibrating his gills. He tried to control himself, to suck in a breath to tell him to stop, to let him think, but he could barely hold onto Grindelwald’s forearm and shoulder to brace himself, let alone string together coherent sentences.

Below his prick he felt something swell and heat, pleased by the attention. He figured it was his balls.

And in Grindelwald’s hand Graves’ cock slowly but surely began to shrink. At first Graves thought the thing was merely retracting back into his body. With every throb Grindelwald’s fingers coaxed from the little organ, it seemed to swell before shrinking to a length shorter than before, over and over. Before Graves’ eyes he lost another inch, then another – helpless as Grindelwald stroked his size away.

“Nna-aah, nn, nn, nno-ooh-aaah, ah, ah.”

“You’re still intact, mostly,” Grindelwald said, focused on his task, eyes fixed on Graves’ moistening slit as something thicker than water began to ooze from the seam that continued beneath the man’s little dick, a hole slowly beginning to appear from behind it. “Although this little thing is going to be much too pretty to call a prick, really. It’s more similar to a woman’s clitoris than the heft of a real man’s cock. Not to worry, though, you’ll match this cute little thing soon enough.”

The thought was terrifying and yet Graves couldn’t resist the magic of Grindelwald’s fingers. The shrinking didn’t stop until he came, spurting a little cloud of clear liquid, and he tried not to think about the fact that the man had needed little more than a thumb and index finger to coax Graves’s pathetic excuse for a cock to orgasm. It was barely larger than a grown man’s thumb now, and even though he had come it appeared to refuse to soften – instead bobbing and twitching in post orgasmic bliss against Graves’ tail.

“What the… What the fuck did you do to me?” He asked, eyes still closed as he reeled from the strength of his orgasm. It hadn’t been like ejaculating as a man had been. It had been a full body pull that sent shivers over his entire being, making his nipples perk and stand hard on his chest, and all of his skin – and scales – tingle. Lost as he was in the sensation, still butter soft in Grindelwald’s arms, he missed it the moment the merman slipped a thick thumb in something he couldn’t even fathom.

He had never felt anything like it. It wasn’t his anus, he knew, and yet there was a new, moist cavity beneath his ball-less prick that Grindelwald had slid into. He mewled before he could shout, his throat lax and prone to moaning after so much pleasure. It felt…

Amazing.

Grindelwald’s thumb and the girth of his middle knuckle stretched him pleasantly, his opening so slick and swollen from the prior attention to his prick. Grindelwald stroked his tender insides before pulling out and inserting two fingers instead, searching. Graves gasped, heart thrumming, overwhelmed by all these changes and the fast pace of their revelations that he couldn’t keep up with.

Grindelwald pressed something inside him and finally he screamed, head thrown back and throat taut as he clutched tighter to the merman, drawing blood.

“Perfection,” Grindelwald purred, voice so dark and so hungry – barely reminiscent of the man on the beach. “I’ve got you, darling, you’re almost done.”

The fingers were removed and his slit ached from the loss, that moist seam drooling helplessly into the water, trying to entice something, anything back in. He felt empty. He whined.

Something long and tapered and hot pressed against him, two hands holding his hips firmly in place and then it was sliding in, filling him in one long fluid push. He yowled, the end of his scream melting into a moan as finally the aching dissipated, and pleasure bloomed in him once more. His tiny dick shivered between two scaled bellies as Grindelwald began to thrust, twirling them in lazy circles as he kissed Graves’ neck, his shoulders, the edges of his hairless and softening jaw.

Graves’ eyes rolled, and while something in the back of his mind howled that he needed to pay attention and escape, he couldn’t focus past the relentless rhythm of Grindelwald’s pounding dick in his sopping cunt. Hands moved from his hips – hot and swollen – and brushed his nipples instead, tweaking and pulling and playing until they felt hot and swollen too. Graves mewled, the sounds swallowed by a hungry mouth when Grindelwald quickly kissed him, tongue slipping between lust slackened lips and conquering.

Grindelwald pet the seam of skin stretched around the girth of his invading prick, stroked it while it appeared to swell even more where they met. Graves keened as that stretch moved further and further into him, struggling at his surreal entrance until finally it popped in, making his cock dribble feebly. He could feel it traveling up and into his new insides, passing up and up and up. He felt a little bloated.

Another followed just behind it, stretching him just as taut before sliding in. Grindelwald pet his neck and his hair. He pressed kisses into his neck and when next he tweaked his nipples Graves felt the flesh of his chest move as though there was some give to it. He moaned, confused, aroused.

The third swell entered a little easier. He could feel his stomach begin to press against Grindelwald’s flat abdominals.

“You’re going to be so fat with my eggs,” Grindelwald said. “You’re going to save us.”

His hips ached. His belly felt so full and while it felt mind-blowing entering, the next egg made him feel too tight, fit to burst. He sobbed into an open-mouthed kiss as Grindelwald’s words registered. Eggs. He was impregnating him.

Finally no more eggs passed through him, and as though Grindelwald knew there would be no more, he began to thrust – hard and heavy. Graves could feel a strange weight on his chest, shifting with each thrust. He tried to look down but Grindelwald slipped in for another kiss, his tongue running over Graves’ sharp new canines. He whined when Grindelwald grabbed his chest and pressed that weight into him, and he knew he was soft there. Without looking, he knew he was suddenly soft there.

“Perfect,” Grindelwald gasped into Graves’ mouth, shoved forward twice more, and then warmth was blooming inside Graves, filling him even more. It came like a slow and steady faucet, and he kept waiting for it to end, but it seemed endless. His bloat worsened, fat against Grindelwald’s slim belly. Fingers took him by his tiny cock and fondled him and he clenched, his whole body seizing as that pushed him over the edge. He could feel it as his insides milked Grindelwald’s dick, urging more of the merman’s seed deeper, and he sobbed.

Grindelwald only pulled out once it had stopped, but nothing leaked out with the exit of his dick.

He brushed a large thumb over Graves’ sopping, gaping entrance and purred as it shrank again beneath his touch, taking his dick with it, the scales sealing and trapping in his eggs and sperm.

Leaving him fat and – and – and –

He sobbed again, hands shaking as he reached down for his pudgy belly. He looked down and his face contorted as he found his view obscured by two modest breasts, just enough for a handful.

Grindelwald cupped one and brushed a thumb over its still erect nipple, smiling when Graves moaned despite himself and shivered.

“Lovely,” he purred, “Marvelous, perfect. Such a good mama.”

“Get them out,” Graves whispered, eyes wet. “Change me back.”

“No, pretty mama,” Grindelwald said as he moved both hands up to cup a slender jaw and pet back tears from long, sooty black lashes framed with flecks of beautiful green scales. “There is no going back.”

He guided Graves' hand back onto his heavy breast and squeezed his hand around it while taking the other to Graves’ belly, making him feel the life beginning to sow there.

“There is no going back.”

#Grindelgraves #Archived Fics

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blursed-ninjago-ideas · 4 years ago

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To the two people that care about this~

(Fate/Ninjago)

Now that everyone that doesn’t care is gone, let’s get tot rambling!

You know what? I decided the best way to do this is to just post the fic I started.

He knew something didn’t go right the moment he saw red.

Smoke cleared and instead of the legendary green ninja, Len saw a boy he didn’t recognize wielding a golden sword.

“Who has summoned me?” the boy asked.

Or maybe he should be called a man? He seemed to be on the edge between the two. Either way he was older than Len. It didn’t matter who he was, what mattered was that he wasn’t who Len was trying to summon.

“You’re not the green ninja.” Len said flatly.

He made no effort to disguise his disappointment and distaste.

The servant in red narrowed his eyes harshly. He had a light scar over his face and all the marks of a seasoned warrior. Len knew he hadn’t gotten a total dud, but still was trying to figure out where in the world he went wrong.

“Of course I’m not.” What was clearly a Saber servant scoffed, sheathing his glowing weapon on his back and crossing his arms.

“I was trying to summon the green ninja.” Len said with confrontation in his voice.

Saber looked Len up and down then snorted in something akin to disgust.

“You’re not worthy of summoning Lloyd.” He said, with a bite to his words.

“How dare you! Do you know who I am?” Len demanded.

“Do you know who I am?” Saber retorted effortlessly.

Len grunted in frustration. Just his luck he’d gotten such an indigent servant. He toyed with the idea of using a command seal right then and there.

“I am Len Garmadon, I am a descendant of the green ninja. I share his blood. I can think of nothing ‘worthier’ then that.” Len said snidely.

“You didn’t answer me.” Saber said, showing no other reaction.

Hands finding their way into his hair, Len let out another frustrated groan. He bet Haruki wasn’t having these problems.

“No. I don’t know who you are. Would you care to enlighten me?” Len tried, being as civil as he could, but still sounding condescending.

Saber gave another dismissive sound.

“So, you don’t recognize me, but you think you’re worthy of summoning Lloyd? No wonder you failed.” Saber said.

Len growled.

“I’ll be back when you call my name, until then, you’re not worth my time.” Saber said before disappearing into his noncorporeal form.

“HEY! You can’t do that! SABER!” Len yelled.

Saber didn’t respond to the name of his class, so Len assumed he was meant to call Saber’s true name. But how could he do that when Saber never told him? It was clearly a test; one Len didn’t have the patience for. At this rate Haruki was going to win the Grail while he was stuck arguing with his stupid servant!

He could use a command seal, but he only had three and he got the feeling that his servant would refuse to appear without him using them until he fulfilled the silly request. So, he had to figure out what servant he’d summoned in place of his ancestor.

Len took a calming breath and listed what identifying traits he knew in descending order of helpfulness.

1. Saber used a golden sword.

There could only be so many golden swords in history and legends. That would surely narrow it down.

2. Saber wore red.

With how much of it he wore, it was clearly a distinctive color that he may be symbolically tied to.

3. Saber had a scar on his face.

It wasn’t the most prominent of scars, but it was identifiable.

4. Saber appeared to be a male.

While it wasn’t unheard of for servants to be different genders from what their legends said, it was worth starting with male legends.

Len was ready to bang his head on the wall at the task in front of him before he remembered a very telling quirk Saber had displayed.

He called the green ninja by his first name.

Saber seemed personally offended at Len’s demand for “Lloyd”, so clearly Saber, whoever he was, must’ve been a hero that knew the green ninja personally in his life.

That was a much more specific starting place.

_____

“Kai.”

“You called?”

The spikey haired ninja appeared before the sound was even done echoing around the library.

“You’re the master of fire. The green ninja’s protector. That’s the sword of fire you’re wielding, right?” Len asked as he calmly closed his book and got up to put it away.

Kai gave him a nod. The kid was much less snotty now and Kai felt less like hanging him on a street sign. Perhaps that was just a Garmadon trait though? Being an insufferable brat and then warming up on people.

Len didn’t look unlike Lloyd. He had Lloyd’s blindingly blond hair, and that Garmadon jawline that made girls go nuts, but Len’s cheek bones weren’t as full and projecting as Lloyd’s were. His eyes were that breathtaking emerald, but not the overly round shape Lloyds had been. Lloyd’s face had always had a round and young look to it. Len’s face was longer and more angled.

The biggest difference was the smile though. Len had a bit of a proud tint to his. Lloyd’s had always had a devious edge to his. It could be uncomfortable to see on his overtly innocent face, but he’d always had a sharp smile that hinted at some underhanded cunning. It was a trait Lloyd rarely, if ever, used, but having been raised the way he was he could never shake that sardonic touch in even his most innocent smile.

“I guess we’re stuck with each other.” Len sighed, placing his book heavy back on the shelf.

It seemed more amused and resigned than his previous sighs though, so Kai let it go.

___________________________________

Jaden was bouncing on the balls of his feet gleefully holding his package. It had taken a lot of money and work to get it, but he had it now.

It was an important piece of the original Samurai X suit. With it, Jaden could summon the mysterious warrior to be his servant in the Grail War. Not to mention meet his hero.

Jaden ripped open the package and found his prize. A red gem set in some twisted gold metal. It was unrecognizable now, but Jaden was assured it had been an important piece of the first suit. Perhaps it was a decorative emblem? Or maybe it belonged on the hilt of a weapon? It could’ve belonged on the helmet. Jaden could spend all day theorizing, but he was rather eager to summon the samurai.

Jaden had no workshop, so he was preforming the ritual out in the woods behind his house. It was not the most secure location, but Jaden wasn’t too concerned. Nobody would dare start attacking before all the servants were summoned.

The red stone was placed into the circle and Jaden began the summoning ritual.

Hands shaking, breath paused, Jaden waited for the smoke to clear. He was about to come face to face with the real Samurai X. The excitement was enough to make him faint, but also enough to make him refuse to, not waiting to miss the reveal. He was about to explode when he saw a figure form in the haze.

Then it all came crashing down into confusion and disappointment.

“Who has summoned me?” came a high pitched and delicate voice.

A girl, a pretty girl, but a girl stood in front of Jaden with expectant eyes. She wore the red gem Jaden had been assured belonged to the first Samurai X mech suit around her wrist in an elaborate bracelet.

Jaden deflated. He’d been conned.

“Are you ok?” the girl asked gently.

“Yeah, I just wanted to summon someone else.” Jaden said, trying not to offend the servant he did get.

“Oh. Well I’m sorry you were unsuccessful in that, but I assure you I’m a more than capable servant. I will win the Grail for you.” She said

Jaden smiled a bit. At least he’d gotten someone nice.

“I’m Jaden, if you don’t mind me asking….?”

“OH! Nya. I’m a Rider class.”

“Well at least I got that right.” Jaden was always the type to hold on to positives.

Nya…Rider laughed lightly.

“So, what can you do?” Jaden asked.

“I’m the master of water. I was one of the legendary Ninja.” Rider said proudly.

“Oh? That’s great!” Jaden was a great deal less disappointed and worried after hearing that he’d summoned one of the ninja.

“I’m glad.” Rider said with a smile.

_____

Taylor was tired and wanted to leave. Her dad talked to Caster, making plans for the upcoming war while she sat there like a third wheel. She had to stay though, because Caster was technically her servant. Not that it really mattered, her dad called the shots, she just had the command seals.

“And the target on my back” she thought bitterly.

She was the one the other masters would be trying to kill, not him.

Still, her father always got what he wanted, and he wanted the Grail. Taylor had no choice but to do his bidding, as she always would.

She still fantasied about using her command seals to make her servant off himself and drop out of the running right there. Her dad would be so mad. He’d probably lock her in the dungeon.

Maybe it would be worth it anyways….

_____

Gerald looked at his command seals proudly. He’d managed to summon one of the most feared Assassins there was. The last of the Anacondrai, Pythor. With such a deadly servant he was sure to win the Grail.

It had been hard to do the summoning without getting caught, but the attic in Darkley’s was secluded enough during classes. The kids that skipped chose more interesting places to be, and the kids that got caught were taken back to the classrooms in the lower floors.

“HEY!”

About to call Assassin to kill whoever had snuck up on him in panic, Gerald stopped his mouth in time when he realized it was just Bradly, his dormmate.

“What do you want?” Gerald asked, adjusting his glasses to hide the tremor in his hands.

He had really thought one of the other servants was about to kill him for a second there.

“What’s up with your hand?” Bradly asked.

“None of your business” Gerald snapped.

He was going to need to find a better excuse if he wanted to keep being in the Holy Grail War a secret, but it was just Bradly for now. Gerald could just intimidate him into keeping his trap shut.

Meanwhile, in noncorporeal form, Assassin cursed his luck. He was doomed to constantly get stuck with clueless boarding school brats, wasn’t he?

__________

“I want my father back.” Zack said.

Cole was startled. For many reasons. No small amount of his unease came from Zack’s appearance. He looked too much like Zane.

Zack was less centered than the ice ninja ever was though and was tearfully declaring his wish to be bringing the dead back.

“That’s your wish?”

“It is all I desire, Lancer.”

Cole cringed again. He didn’t particularly like being a lancer. He used a scythe not a lance. But the Grail deemed it close enough and brought him back as a Lancer class to fight in the Holy Grail War.

“I’ll do my best.” Cole finally said.

He had a feeling this kid wasn’t going to get the happy ending he wanted.

____

“UP AND AT ‘EM!”

Len shot up, his blankets finding their way to the floor and his heart planning it’s escape from his chest, coming face to face with Saber’s far too gleeful face.

“What is wrong with you!?” Len yelled.

Saber just laughed lightly, putting is hands up in a pacifying motion.

“Don’t be too mad, I made you breakfast.”

“What? Why?” Len asked, running to the kitchen to see what awaited him.

Saber never did answer him. Not that Len noticed. He got to the kitchen and was now had a new question.

“Are those chocolate chip pancakes?”

“I had a feeling you had a sweet tooth.” Saber shrugged.

Len bit his lip and swallowed. Saber was right, and as much as that should’ve freaked Len out, he was too busy forcing himself not to cry.

“This isn’t worth being upset about, let alone crying. Stop it Len!”

Mentally scolding himself for a moment, Len managed to keep his tears unshed before sitting down and putting food on his plate. Honestly, he didn’t know why he nearly cried. So he hadn’t had chocolate chip pancakes since his tenth birthday, what part of that was worth crying about?

“You alright?”

“I’m fine.”

Len hoped Saber didn’t notice his emotional reaction. It wasn’t like there was a real reason for it and he definitely didn’t want to have to explain something so senseless so early in the morning.

Luckily Saber took his answer and didn’t test it. He sat down and started to load his own plate with food and eating.

Len relaxed. As rude as his wake-up had been, it was nice to have a warm breakfast for once. There were song birds outside and sunshine pouring through the window, setting a pleasant morning setting. It was the type of morning Len hadn’t had for a long time.

“Where are your parents?”

And his happy moment was gone.

“My mom works.” Len said sharply.

“Your dad?”

“Dead.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Len both stabbed and chewed his next bite of food with a more strength than needed. To make his anger about the topic known? To blow off some stress from it being brought up? Who could say?

“Do you wake up alone a lot?”

Len’s teeth ground together.

“Why are you asking so many questions?”

Saber had the decency to look away and it was quiet for a moment while the two finished eating. Len broke it and sighed after he rinsed off his plate.

“Just so you know, there’s another Master at school. We have an agreement. The Grail War stays outside the school grounds. So, don’t freak out, ok?” Len explained.

He was not looking forward to Haruki’s taunts when she found out he failed to summon the green ninja. Maybe he could play it off like he’d wanted to summon Kai? No. She’d never buy that. He was just going to have to suffer through her laughter.

“How much do they know about you?” Saber asked.

“We’ve been rivals since we were little. She comes from a different mage family and we’ve both been groomed for the Holy Grail War for as long as I can remember. We’ve been in the same class every year since we started school too, so she knows a lot.” Len listed, tying his shoes.

“She knows you’re a descendent of the green ninja?” Saber had a calculating look, looking at the wall like it had a battle plan painted on it.

“Yeah, why?”

Saber’s eyes snapped their intense focus to Len.

“Do not tell her who you’ve summoned.”

“Wasn’t planning in it. I’m never gonna hear the end of it when she finds out I failed my summoning.”

“I’m serious Len. I will stay with you in noncorporeal form, but I won’t show myself unless I absolutely have to. She’s probably going to assume you summoned Lloyd and we’re going to let her think that, alright? Her thinking she knows who your servant is, is going to be a huge advantage.”

Len blinked.

Once.

Twice.

That was smart.

Len hadn’t realized that by failing, he’d gained the element of surprise.

“Haruki’s probably been strategizing assuming I succeeded. She’s getting ready for the wrong opponent!”

“And we’re going to let her keep doing that. See if you can get her to slip up and tell you any hints about who she’s summoned, alright?”

Len nodded, wide eyed.

“And by the way,” Saber said, putting his hand on Len’s head “You didn’t fail.”

“But…. I did though.”

Saber just smiled and shook his head. He gave Len’s head an affectionate rubbing then disappeared.

Len Stood there for a few seconds trying to figure out how the heck Saber thought that before realizing he needed to get heading to school.

By the time he slid into his assigned seat though, he settled on Saber just being an ego maniac.

So that introduces the set up pretty well.

Archer is getting killed by Pythor before much happens. Not important. Caster is Clouse.

At some point Not-Gene, or Gerald is going to get his command seals and servant stolen by Not-Chen, or Taylor’s father.

Not-Jay, or Jaden figures out that he did summon Samurai X when Nya uses her Nobel Phantasm.

Len will have to use a command seal to get Kai to attack her.

Not-Harumi, or Haruki summoned Morro as a Berserker.

Not-Lloyd, or Len didn’t fail his summoning. Lloyd himself made the decision to send Kai in his place, Kai figured out why he was there when he got a read on Len’s issues. Hence him taking on a care giving role.

That’s about all I have planned/figured out

-Ivy

#Mod Ivy #ninjago #lego ninjago #blursed ninjago ideas #blursed ninjago aus #fate/ninjago

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zinnia-the-rabbit · 4 years ago

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Bakudeku oneshot: "I'll love you for a thousand years." "And I'll love you for a thousand more"

Uh,idk what this au is called.. probably soulmate au???? Idk,man. I found the concept on twitter and I needed to write about it.

Pretty long story because I'm so invested in this au. It makes me happy and sad and i love it so much. I hope you guys do to!

💮Fluff💮

🔞 smutty implications🔞, but nothing actually happens.

Sad ending, trust me. I teared up,and I'm the one writing it. I had it all planned out and I still wasn't ready. So, good luck.

Summary: The gods cursed our little wonder duo. They are soulmates,but in every lifetime that they find each other, the gods separates them. Basically-

Enjoy!!!!

🧡💚🧡💚🧡💚🧡💚🧡💚🧡💚🧡💚🧡💚

Third person bc I wasn't bothered to write in first person today)

No matter how many times they've met, they are always taken from each other,no matter what. They always fell in love, and it always pained them when they were forced apart.

The first time it happened was thousands of years ago, back when dragons roamed and knights saved princesses from the evil clutches of their wicked mother.

A time when fairies and nymphs danced around deep in the forest,hidden away from the unforgiving eyes of the humans who wanted nothing more then to captures and sell them for profit.

This, is where we meet our our beloved boys.

Katsuki had stolen from a mighty god's shrine, taking some of the offerings to give as his own to a certain little witch, wishing to finally win the greenette over.

He never believed in the gods. No,they were just stories made to scare children straight. Make sure they followed all the rules to a 'T'.

Well,not Katsuki.

He thought of himself as a god, really. Tall, strong,fierce red eyes that could kill a bear with a single,deadly gaze that was as sharp as a dagger. He was the perfect picture of godly.

"If you don't get off your high horse and show our gods some respect,they will surely smite you!" ,His mother would scold him, smacking the side of his head with a bruising force.

He would only scoff in annoyance, and go about his way.

Silly,silly little Katsuki..he didn't know the gods were watching,and were most certainly unpleased with his disrespectful behavior.

Katsuki stepped over yet another large root that descended out of the mossy,wet earth below his feet. He kept his bag of offerings slung over his shoulder, grip tight just in case some fairies tried to steal the bag. The little sparkly pests.

He had grabbed anything he could without getting caught; rich herbs good for creating spells, jewelery lined the only the most expensive stones, rubies,perls, diamonds, emeralds.

He took several of the finest cloaks he could find. Some velvet and lined lined with the fluffy coat of a grey wolf. Some silk with flowers beautifully sewn into the comforting fabric.

He had a smaller bag attached to his belt, just next to the sheath in which his sword was placed neatly and securely.

This bag was filled with food, sweet things for the smaller,green haired male. Honey buns, cinnamon rolls, many, many handfuls of green tea mochi that he knew the witch loved more then life itself. He grabbed moon pies, macaroons, super cubes, and a couple of regular little meat buns.bHe even made sure to get at least two or three of those adorable little tudor cheesecakes.

Did I mention this man was head over heels for our little Izuku?

He was soon standing in front of a small cottage, smiling as he could see little puffs of grey and white smoke erupting from the chimney.

The witch was home.

Good.

He walked up to the old mahogany door and knocked firmly, yet gentle,in a way.

This cottage was old, you could tell from miles away. Long winding vines overtook an entire wall, and,in the spring, would bloom with small flowers.There were sprouts of plants peeking their way through the small cracks in the roof,and he had half a nerve to climb up and pull them out. But, Izu liked them,so he wouldn't. It's not like the roof leaked anyway, which amazed him, really.

Some of the stones that made up the comforting little home were chipped,and others had chunks missing from the years spent unprotected from mother nature's rath. He still loved it all, though. This was like his second home.

The door slowly creeked open and a head full of green, unruly culrs poked its way out of the safety of the home, big emerald eyes meeting Katsuki's ruby ones.

"Kacchan!", The little witch smiled, swinging the door open and running into the taller males arms.

"Hey,there my darling little spell caster. I brought you some things.", Katsuki hummed, smiling warmly.

Izuku pulled away, looking at him sceptically.

"Are you still trying to court me?", He asked leading the man inside.

He was very much aware that the blond liked him, and he felt the same..he just wanted to tease and reject him just to get on his nerves.

It was a fun little game they liked to play...Cat and mouse,if you will.

The blond just chuckled, pulling the door closed.

He could tell the little witch had been busy before he had arrived. His large black cauldron was hanging over a live fire and filled with a purplish blue liquid that was bubbling quietly.

It smelled of lavender and citrus, maybe from a-

He was quickly shook from his thoughts as the greenette bent down to pick up a few loose papers from the floor before standing up straight and placing them on his desk.

Damn..

He was always getting distracted by those wide hips whenever the witch was around, and he just couldn't help it. Katsuki wanted nothing more than to grab at his slim waist and grip his green culrs tightly, as he bent him over his desk and mark up his neck.

He thought about that often.. maybe too often..While he's at it,he could probably convince Izuku to bounce on his-

"Kacchan? Hellloooo?" A sweet little voice snaps him out of his little day dream and he has to look down to see the small male standing right in front of him.

"Did you hear a word I just said?" Izuku huffed, crossing his arms.

Katsuki almost zoned out again when he saw the little heart shaped freckle that was delicately placed on Izu's right cheek that he just loved so much.

"Uh,no, sorry. I was trying to figure out what that other smell is. I can only pinpoint lavender,and I think orange?" Katsuki tilted his head to the side.

"Well, you'd be correct." Izuku had hummed, smiling, "Ive been trying to change up a few potions and make them smell lovely so anyone who passed by won't know they are potions."

Katsuki let out a small hum back before walking into the kitchen and setting the bags on the nice wooden table. Izuku followed behind him, humming.

The blond man opened one of the bags and pulled out a necklace, carefully putting it around the smaller's neck gently. He kissed the greenette's forehead gently,which caused him to blush deeply.

"You're adorable." Katsuki smiled.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, Izu sitting on the table and Katsuki standing between his legs, cuddling each other close.

"I accept.." Izu says gently, nuzzling his nose against the blonds jaw lightly.

Katsuki paused, looking at him.

Was...was Izuku finally accepting his feelings...?

The blond haired male gripped Izu's shoulders and pulled him back, looking him right in his emerald eyes.

"You do know what you're getting into, right?" Katsuki smirked, grabbing the wide rim of Izuku's pointed, black hat and places it on the table.

"Of course I do."

That's all it took for the taller man to lean in and capture the witch's lips in his own in a sickeningly sweet kiss that the greenette happily returned.

Alas, that fateful kiss was just what the gods needed.

That moment of pure love is what the gods would use against them.

They pulled away, and just as Katsuki went to speak the mahogany door slammed open. Izuku gasped and clung to the taller, a fearful expression as several knights rushed inside.

"So, it was true! There is a witch!" One of them shouted and Katsuki pulled the male in question close.

"Ah-ha! And the little non-believing thief!" Another exclaimed as the men in the mental armor came twords them.

How..how had they found them...?

Katsuki kept his lover held tightly in his arms and growled as a few of the knights pulled them apart forcefully. He thrashed and kicked, trying desperately to get away and protect Izu.

This wasn't supposed to happen...

The knights pulled them outside despite their objections and thrashing.

"O-ow! You're hurting me!" Izuku cried out as he was forced to kneel down.

Sure enough,there were deep purpling bruises starting to form on his exposed arms,the men holding him way to tightly.

"Let go of him!" Katsuki growled, but his demand fell on deaf ears.

The two were facing each other with their wrists bound behind their backs. Izuku had tears rolling down his cheeks and he was shaking.

This couldn't be real.

"How did you find us?!" Katsuki shouted, trying to free himself. Our blond boy was beyond pissed.

"Easy. A little fairy told us." A knight said, amused as a little fairy with spikey black hair, and sharp blue eyes fluttered over. He had deep blue wings and purple markings across his body.

"D-dabi?!" Izuku gasped out. That little fairy was his friend...well,he was supposed to be.

"I'm sorry, Izuku.." The tiny raven haired male sighed, acting sad. He smiled widely, though, as a knight handed him a mochi.

The fairy gave Izu a small part on the head before flying away, humming a little tune. Katsuki couldn't believe his eyes. They little fairy was always around.

He always helped Izu with his spells. He helped Baku find his way at night with his vibrant blue glow. Then he betrayed them..? That little bitch.

"This is why I hate fairies! You're nothing but scum!" Katsuki growled, thrashing around violently.

This was bullshit.

He's gonna stomp on that fairy.

He's gonna eat him whole.

He's gonna tear his little wings off.

He's gonna-

"By order of the king, you are both to be put to death."

Katsuki stilled.

"Both of you have been proven guilty of several crimes, including witchcraft and stealing from the gods."

No. Nonono! He just got Izu to be his for real, he..he can't die. They can't die!

Izuku let out a loud sob at the sound of a sword being pulled from its protective sheath,and the distress in his voice caused Katsuki to tear up.

"I-izuku, my little spell caster, close you're eyes." Katsuki instructed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against the smaller's. Izuku did as told, letting his eyes flutter shut as he tried to calm his breathing.

They both couldn't contain a yelp when a tip of a sword touched each of their backs, the duo staring to tremble.

This couldn't be happening.. This was all too surreal.

"We aren't heartless,so you may say your goodbyes." One of the men hummed, sounding sincere.

Katsuki didn't know what to say...how how do you sum up years of love and admiration into a bitter goodbye?

They opened their eyes to look at each other, Izu giving his lover a smile,a smile that held so many emotions behind it.

Katsuki gave a small smile back, letting out a broken chuckle. Their last words to each other were those of truth, a promise they'd keep forever.

Those knights returned to the kingdom with sour faces. They felt bad for having to end the lovers in such a way. They were mad at themselves.

No matter how many times they meet, Izuku and Katsuki are always tragically separated.

No matter how many times they fall in love, they can never experience each other too long, because it could all end in the blink of an eye.

But, no matter what, they always depart from their beloved with the same words tingling their tounges;

"I'll love you for a thousand years."

"And I'll love you for a thousand more"

#bakudeku fluff #bakudeku fanfic #bakudeku fic #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #bnha katsuki #mha katsuki #bnha kacchan #mha kacchan #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou fluff #bnha deku #mha deku #bnha izuku #mha izuku #deku fanfic #deku fic #deku fluff

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nerdyaspandspacy · 4 years ago

Note

What are your headcanons for the rise boys ?

My headcanons for the ROTMNT boys? Ask and ye shall recieve!

Heads up this is gonna be a long post guys! Here are five headcanons for each of the boys!

Raph

Rise Raph is the big brother who will literally fight you if you say anything bad about yourself, he knows about insecurities he understands. Does he want you bad mouthing yourself? No sir!

He forgets he’s spikey when he gets excited. He forgets that his shell is spikey and stronger than a lot of stuff so he sometimes breaks some things. He’s a ninja, stealthy, silent, and deadly. He’s also an excitable teddy bear who will jump for joy and break a lamp.

When he’s tired he could sleep standing up, it’s not very restful or comfortable, but he can do it.

He’s also a very jumpy sleeper. If he’s standing up and asleep, his brothers learned not to tap him awake. He flails and jumps awake, he accidentally smacked the crap out of Leo once. (He felt so bad.)

He can eat Mikey’s entire body weight in food.

Leo

This master of puns, he loves his puns, has always wanted to me a comedian and is constantly watching people on youtube or TV. He loves, Gabriel Iglasias, Amy Schumer, and Chris Rock.

He currently wants to learn medicine because he wants something he can do to help and be unique with. Donnie fully supports this and is just waiting for Leo to commit to it.

Unfortunately he still gets nightmares about falling and so much others stuff. Unfortunately he loses sleep over it and has to go talk to his dad for some advice.

The boy loves aesthetics, and things that are aesthetically pleasing. He just can’t make any himself because his artistic abilities are limited to puns, and smart one liners.

He hates sour stuff.

Donnie

This boy has dry sarcasm for days, it’s just developed naturally from a mix of Splinter, himself, and his annoyance at people.

He has four different contingency plans for literally every situation, because over time he’s become anxious and worried over little things. He worries about his brothers, April, his dad, all the time. He has coping methods that he’s figured out with April though.

His battle shell is his security blanket, if he is not in the lair or April’s house it does not come off. Period.

He has a perfect RBF.

This verison of Donnie actually hates coffee, he drinks it because of the caffine, and because it feels more adult. But he prefers energy drinks.

Mikey

This artistic bean loves his brothers and finds any way to work with them on anything. The purple rectangles on Don, he painted them with a long lasting body paint he and Donnie made. He hangs out with Raph nearly every day just to be around him, and he constantly finds ways to make Leo laugh.

Doctor Gentle Touch was born from watching Splinter, Soap Operas, and watching peoples reactions.

He likes hanging out in his shell because it’s his own personal hidey hole. If he could fit his phone in there he would.

This bean isn’t easily detoured, but the one thing that can shut him down are his older brothers shouting. He hates, hates, hates it. His mood shoots down like a rocket instantly. And if they yell at him, he’s done, he’s in his shell or in his room away from it.

Mikey is absolutely terrified of losing his family, and ever since they became heroes it’s only gotten worse, because his worst fear is being alone.

Alright! Those are some more headcanons for the Rise Boys! Thank you Anon for the request. Space out!

#rottmnt #rottmnt headcanons #mikey #donnie #leo #raph

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loopsforlupin · 4 years ago

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Remus Lupin Headcannons

- He curses like a sailor. While he normally does it under his breathe, Sirius, Peter, and James are normally close enough to hear the filth and curses that fall out of Remus’s normally polite lips. It makes Sirius feel a certain way, one that he tries not to focus on because certain anatomical parts seem particularly fond of those lips forming those words. It’s especially bad when Remus curses Sirius out for getting injured, because Remus seems to forget what personal space is then, and is man handling Sirius’s body in order to treat the various wounds Sirius didn’t realize he had. One time Remus stripped Sirius down with one hand while using his other hand to hold Sirius’s wrists above his head. Sirius has never been so turned on and confused in his life. He’s still not sure how it was possible to have all the blood in his body rushing in opposite directions and not die.

- Remus has depression. He’s unsure if he was born with it, or if it’s a direct result of being attacked by a werewolf at four years old due to his fathers hateful views. However, he tries many things to beat back his depression. He exercises regularly, going on runs around the Hogwarts grounds with James. He tries to eat a balanced diet, but Peter likes to sneak to the kitchen for food, and the house elves are always so sad when Remus refuses their offers of sweets. So he often just accepts that he probably eats way to much sugar, but at least he tries. He keeps a meticulous diary of his emotions, and when they start to go to far down the rabbit hole that is his disease, Remus will stick close to James and Sirius, because he’s afraid that if he doesn’t, the voice he tries so hard to ignore may shout loud enough to make him do something he’ll regret, and he’s never been more grateful for his friend’s silent and unwavering support than on those dark days.

- With depression comes bad days. On those bad days where even rolling over in bed seems like a monumental task, Remus is glad to have his friends. Because Sirius will notice first, and he’ll tell James who tells Peter. From there, a series of events happens. Sirius goes to the kitchen, and asks the eager house elves if they would please make a special pot of chocolate, only instead of a chocolate bar or chips, could they use the chocolate icing from Remus’s favorite German chocolate cake. Then he grabs large containers of whipped cream, salted Carmel drizzle, and a huge basket of various baked confections. James will have sent an owl to McGonagall telling her that Remus was unwell and would not be in classes for the day, and if she could please send any missed assignments with James for Remus to catch up. Then he would set about finding the softest and most comfortable blankets in the dorms. Most of which his mother had knitted and sent to him because they all knew James liked to be warm at night but cool during the day. Peter would tidy up the room. Making sure that when Remus felt better, he wouldn’t have to deal with a cluttered room, which Remus really hated. He would then find the newest book his mother sent him and he would sit by Remus’s bed and he would just start to read aloud. His voice soft and unhurried lolling Remus into the narrative with every word. Silence would spread around the room as the only sounds were the crackling fire, and Peter’s voice telling of some magical land beyond the “second star to the right”.

- Remus can’t stand to be touched. It’s partially due to his belief that his condition makes him a monster, but it’s also in part because his father had refused to touch him in anything less than anger since he was four now. Much like Sirius, sudden or quick movements may cause a flinch when directed at him. It took James awhile to be trusted enough to even put an arm around Remus’s shoulders. Trust that was earned by constantly slowly approaching Remus, directly in his line of sight, and only reaching out after having verbal confirmation that the touch was accepted. Remus and Sirius both appreciated that James was willing to go so far just to show them affection. Especially, as he was such an affectionate individual. His love to touch and be touched was well known throughout the Gryffindor house, and to some extent even the other houses knew. Sirius thawed faster towards James, but then again, James had basically decided that the broken black haired boy was now his adopted baby brother and had looked at the walls Sirius had built around his heart and just blasted them away. Remus however, he had to carefully maneuver around those walls, because Sirius’s defenses were just thick walls, Remus had his walls covered in Devil’s snare and thorns. But if Remus had ever asked James, James would have told him that the effort to take down those spikey and deadly walls was well worth the effort, because James gained not only one brother, but two. And James loved his brothers more then he had loved anything else.

- Remus fell in love slowly. Oh so slowly, but the realization that he was in love, well that hit him like a freight train. James and Sirius were playing in the Quidditch game (Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw), and Remus and Peter stood in the stands cheering for them. Aaron Blishen, a Ravenclaw beater, hit the bludger towards James, which Sirius gladly intercepted hitting it right back towards Aaron’s own team mate, but that meant that Sirius missed Brent Odgen’s well aimed bludger. It Sirius in the back, and knocked him clear off his broom. Remus’s heart leapt out of his chest and blocked his throat. Sirius was falling, Sirius was falling, SIRIUS WAS FALLING. James having realized his brother’s fate was desperately trying to catch the falling boy, along with Aaron, both boys laying flat against their brooms trying to catch up to the falling body. Remus couldn’t take his eyes off his falling friend. Sirius Black, his best friend, the person who made jokes about his condition, who cuddled up to him after nightmares, who brought him chocolate after the full moon, who hated his family’s dark views. Sirius Black who lit up the room when he came in, who made the dark days easier just by being in the room. Sirius was Remus’s star, he made the darkness not so over bearing, but right now all Remus could think was please please please Sirius! He loved the boy, and if James and Aaron don’t catch him, he was going to watch the boy he loved fall to his death. Not breathing, Remus didn’t even notice his hands clutching Peter’s arm, or the way that Peter was trying desperately not to cry out in pain from the tight grip. James barely managed to push the broom fast enough, but he managed to catch Sirius with 5 meters to square. The added weight of the boy, almost pulled James off his broom, but Aaron caught up enough to help stabilize both Gryffindors, and the trio landed safe enough on the ground. Madam Hooch was there within a second, casting spells at Sirius. Remus couldn’t stand still any longer, and sprinted down, along with Peter who was huffing to keep up, and emerged on the field just as Sirius was woken up with a quick “Rennervate”. He flailed for a couple of seconds before realizing that he was no longer falling. Remus knelt down and placed his hand on Sirius’s chest, which Sirius automatically covered with his own hand. “I’m fine Moony, promise.” Remus didn’t believe him for one second, but he kept his disbelief quiet, and just tried to remind himself why oxygen was necessary. It wasn’t until later that night, as Remus laid in his bed, that he realized his thoughts at the game. Love? He groaned into his pillow, he was too tired to focus on his suddenly new found homosexuality, and apparent love for his best friend. So Remus pushed aside those troubling thoughts and went to bed.

- Remus hates sharing. It’s a shock to the other boys at first, but they realize quickly that Remus has good reasons to protect his things. Remus may be an only child, but his mother Hope had multiple older siblings, who decided to have multiple children as well, meaning Remus had many cousins who liked to take his few toys or other valuable little treasures. Remus’s wolf was also possessive, and didn’t like to let others touch what was the wolf’s property. This often times included his friends. Remus couldn’t help but glare and often times growl under his breath when people touched James, Sirius or Peter. James was especially prone to being touched by strangers or people Remus didn’t like to touch his things. James was his pack mate, people shouldn’t touch his pack mate. Whenever Remus noticed James being touched, and his wolf was feeling extra possessive, Remus would proceed to touch James wherever the other person had, removing the other’s scent, and replacing it with Remus’s. It became such a pattern that James would even seek Remus out after someone touched him. Remus didn’t often have to do it with Sirius and Peter, but even they came to understand that Remus needed to do it for his own sake. Sirius most often came to Remus after he had been with one of his conquests, meaning Remus had to practically flop on top of Sirius to make sure the other’s scent went away. He needed to ensure that Sirius especially smelled like him, although it wasn’t until that fated quidditch game that Remus understood why. Stupid wolf had gone and decided that Sirius was his mate. Stupid wolf didn’t realize that Remus had no shot with the dark haired heir.

- Remus loved chocolate. This was not a secret. In fact, the few admirers who tried to get Remus to notice them, usually gifted him chocolate as it was a well known way to ensure that Remus was paying attention. But only the Marauders knew that Remus also had an obsession with sugar quills. There was something about the sweets that Remus couldn’t ignore. It was a complete accident as to how Remus developed this love. He had been studying for history of magic, and was reading allowed from the book, in an attempt to make Peter understand the work. Sirius, who had been trying to get Remus to help with a new prank idea grew tired of being ignored, and took his sugar quill which he had been gesturing with and shoved the quill into Remus’s mouth to silence him. James and Peter were stunned. Remus was unsure how to react. On the one hand, he was angry that Sirius had just shoved the sweet into his mouth, and had hit his teeth in the process, and on the other hand, well the quill was actually quite pleasing. The pleasantness won out, and Remus let out a little noise as he sucked on the quill. James and Peter both quirked an eyebrow at the noise, but Sirius turned beet red and his mouth fell open with an audible noise. Remus sucked on the quill hard enough that his cheeks hallowed, and his eyes lowered as he enjoyed the treat forced onto him. James and Peter shared another look before they broke into loud laughter, not that Sirius noticed, his eyes to fixed on the way Remus’s mouth looked wrapped around the sugary treat. After a minute of enjoying his treat, Remus pulled the quill from his mouth, creating a small popping sound, and looked at Sirius, still a stunned mess who couldn’t decide where exactly he should be looking. “Thanks Pads. You know, I haven’t ever actually had Sugar quill before. I like them!” Remus then started to pack away all his things, and got up to leave. He walked a couple feet towards the dormitory before he stopped and turned around, gesturing with his new treat and spoke. “But if you ever put something in my mouth again without asking, I’m going to bite it. Just letting you know.” Remus went up to the dorms, leaving a still laughing Peter and James, and a very confused and slightly turned on Sirius.

#wolfstar #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #Hogwarts #James Potter #Peter Pettigrew

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joshslater · 6 years ago

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Putting Reek in Greek

Essentially just a repost of walkamongyou’s excellent What Happens in Malia... with few tweaks thrown in. I take his feedback “Love how plausible you've made it“ as high praise, as that was the goal.

Thank fuck the week is almost over. It all started because I booked a discount holiday to Malia, like a fucking egit. The flights were cheap and the advert promised it’d be a ‘Great Gay Getaway’. It started out with a delayed flight, adding 4 hours of waiting in a packed terminal on top of the 3 hour uncomfortable flight. We were late to the crappy hotel, my room had already been given to someone else, and I got downgraded to a filthy cupboard with a narrow bed and no shower. The indifferent staff told me the price difference would be reimbursed on my credit card within two weeks and that I could use the pool shower.

I could have lived with giving up my beach view room with queen size bed and marble bath tub if there were some great gays to get away with, but no. Had I done any research I would have known that the place is littered with pubs and chippy shops for plebs who want to get wasted and watch footie in better weather. To top it all off I’ve coincided directly with all the trashiest stag and hen dos known to man. Everyone’s a chav, everyone’s English and worst of all, everyone’s straight as a ruler. Definitely nothing to offer a cultured gay man from South London. So here I am, sat in a tacky cocktail bar with two nights left, and can’t wait to get the fuck back to work. I just got what might be the evening’s last Old Fashioned, contemplating going to bed early when they enter.

They’re a classic example of everything that’s wrong with the Brits. They stagger in, singing and chanting “OI OI” and “Lads! Lads!”. They’re young, comically sunburnt, with identical chavvy haircuts, short on the sides and long on top. A group of working class boys on a lads’ holiday. One of them’s wearing a t shirt that says ‘On it till we vomit’, another that says ‘Pussy Patrol’ and a couple of them, of course, have football shirts. They’re a ridiculous cliché, drunk and rowdy. One loud-mouthed guy, their leader, is particularly handsome. He’s topless despite this being a public place, revealing a toned, athletic body; he wouldn’t look out of place dancing on a podium in Soho. His hair is dark brown and spikey, he has a diamond stud in both ears and a mischievous expression on his face as he starts chanting ‘Shots! Shots! Shots!’ and soon they’re all joining in. A row of tequila appears from the bar and he cries out “What happens in Malia stays in Malia!”

I don’t want them here. I resent their misogynistic ways and the atmosphere they’ve created. Not to mention I’m having a terrible day, so the London boy in me does the only thing he can think of and seeks out the bouncer, a bald, robust figure in a tight black T-shirt stood by the doorway. “Is there any chance you can get those guys to leave? They’re making people uncomfortable.” He shakes his head “Sorry, sir, there’s nothing I can do.” “Are you sure? It’s not fair on everyone else in here” “As long as they don’t break any laws, pay their bills, don’t fight or break anything they are welcome to stay.“ Normally I’d give up, but I’m miserable and exhausted from sleeping with an AC unit rattling outside my room, so I feel a lie come to my lips. I even shock myself as I say it. “But they are breaking the law. I’ve seen them at another bar this evening and they’re dealing drugs.” He looks at me, the irritable expression gone from his face. “What did you say?“ “I said they’re drug dealers. They’ve been selling cocaine.” Suddenly, his expression is deadly serious. “Thanks for letting me know. You have a good evening now.”

I watch them covertly, with a slight smile as the security guard approaches them. There’s a confrontation, voices are raised, and like kicking a beehive they buzz around the bar collecting their shit. They glare around the bar, even in my direction, before they go and peace returns. I chuckle to myself. What happens in Malia stays in Malia… Stupid chav cunts.

I go back to the bar stool and finish my cocktail at a leisurely pace, sit for a while and listen to the music they’re playing. At least I think that’s what I do. Everything starts going fuzzier and fuzzier, warmer and hazier. I need to get out and get some fresh air.

“Mate, wake up…” I’m groggy, I’m parched, my head’s pounding and I’ve no idea where I am. “Wake up, fella!” I feel a strong pair of hands shaking me, gently at first, and then roughly. My eyes slowly open, but everything’s dark and for a second I’m terrified that I might have gone blind, until a pair of sunglasses is pulled from my face and I’m blinded instead by the bright Malia sun. It’s high enough for breakfast to be over. Leaning over me is a handsome man; he’s wearing a grey t shirt and a backwards cap, but I recognise him instantly as the topless guy from last night. I panic, try to move but my body doesn’t want to respond and instead I slump to the ground. “Whoa…whoa…”, the man says, catching me in his arms and holding me tight against his broad chest. “Thank fuck you’re a skinny bastard.”

He props me back up on the deck chair I was sleeping on, holding my head upright, his face close to mine. I can smell chewing gum and cigarettes on his breath. I’m sure it’d be erotic if I wasn’t so frightened. "Now dickhead, I want you to listen very carefully to me. Blink once if you understand.” He’s using a hushed, calm voice, but with more than a hint of viciousness. I manage to consciously blink, though even that is an effort. “Good. Now, it seems like you had your drink spiked. Unlucky for you, but fortunately I here to help you. I left you out in the sun for a bit to sober you up but clearly it didn’t work. You’re wankered…” He ruffles my hair and my head instantly slumps to the side without him supporting it, so he takes a hold of my temples and pulls me sharply back upright.

He barely whispers now. “OK, listen to me, you little prick. You messed with the wrong lads last night. We’re no drug dealers, but it cut close to home for some of my mates, so they are divesting certain personal pharmaceutical investments as we speak. Personally I ditched my stash of slow release growth hormones by giving you quite a liberal dose. It should have you set well into the next quarter, perhaps longer. Russians really now how to cheat...” He chuckles darkly and stares straight into my eyes. Back to normal voice again. “Don’t look so scared mate. My job is to keep you in sight and entertained until they are back. We’re going to have a great day together… Now, what’s your name again?” I try to respond, but can only groan. “Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that…” He laughs, coughs and then spits on the floor. “Well…my name’s Caine, and to be honest, fella, I don’t give a shit what your name is…But what I do give a shit about is that you ruined a proper good vacation for me and the lads.” My body tenses at this accusation “No worries though… tonight’s a new night, as they say… and you’re going to make it unforgettable. You’re about to become the newest member of our Lads on Tour group: Gaz. That’s your name, right? Gaz? Blink once if it is…" I sit there, not responding. My name definitely isn’t Gaz. He grunts and lands a hard slap across my face. “I said blink if your name’s Gaz!” This time I do blink. “Good lad. You’re not as thick as you look. Now, Gaz, let’s get you semi-functional. We’ve got lots to do today and a big night ahead of us. Drink this.“ He shoves gym water bottle in my mouth and squeeze it lightly. I can do nothing else but drink it, though I happily do. It tastes like an isotonic drink. Sweet, salty, slightly sour and slightly bitter all at the same time.

I’m staggering down the street, with Caine supporting me. A lot of passers-by are shaking their head or trying to not stare at us…well, me; to an outside eye he looks like a well-meaning boy helping out his mate who’s had one too many. Nobody would guess he was a straight chav with a perverse sense of justice, propping up a sedated gay man.

But it’s not only this apparent display of friendship that is making people stare. Despite not having had a good look at myself, it is clear even to me I’d been out in the sun for far too long. “You look a bit burnt there Gaz. I thought I lathered you up pretty well with sun lotion. Looks like I took the tanning oil by mistake.” My usual pale skin was a painful, blazing red all aside from a tan line where he’d left a pair of sunglasses on my face and an equally ridiculous set of white lines where he’d dressed me in an old wife beater; I was now modelling what most Brits would call a ‘twat tan.’

It wasn’t just any wife beater either. In contrast with my normal, well accessorized shirt, chinos and brogues look, I only had a total of four items on my body. One pair of orange Jägermeister promotion flip flops. One pair of blue, slinky adidas football shorts as, perhaps not less expensive, but certainly cheaper looking stand in for board shorts. And finally, the crown jewel, someone’s black wife beater that read “I HAVE THE DICK SO I MAKE THE RULES” in outlandish red letters. All of it covered in traces of what must have been at least one out of vomit, food and cum, and I could definitely smell both sweat and alcohol wafting from it.

All of this I piece together painfully slow, as I’m practically carried by Caine along the scorching street towards God knows where. I’m paraded around town like an effigy of the worst of Britain, unable to do anything to shield myself from, or even look at the passerby.

Suddenly Caine steers me into a building. As he guides me through the door, I notice the spinning red, blue and white of a barber’s pole. It’s a Turkish barbers; the two men working there turn around and eye me up and down, one is unable to quell a small laughter, the other barely hiding his disgust. It’s a far cry from the warm welcome and prosecco I get at Toni & Guy in London. The decor is ugly and cheap, with neon lights and linoleum. The two men discuss something among themselves in another language, ignoring us, until one finally comes forward with a neutral “You want a haircut?”

Caine throws me in the barber’s chair. I notice whatever I’ve been spiked with is starting to wear off as I’m now just about able to support my own head. The barber is behind me, glaring and tutting like I’m an idiot. I see him take in the stains and slogan on the tank top as he puts the cape around my neck. “You look unwell.” he states. Caine’s voice comes from behind me. “Yeah man, he’s just taken a lot of shit. You’re a pussy but you’re right as rain ain’t you Gaz mate?” He slaps me hard on the chest. It’s agonising on my sunburn, but I can barely flinch. The barber seems appeased, rolling his eyes, and taking another look at the photo Caine is showing him on his phone. “While we were out Gaz gave me strict orders to get him a fresh cut before we hit the town again today. When he sobers up he’ll be gutted if he isn’t looking his best. He even said he’d pay triple, didn’t you Gaz mate?”, he laughs. “You stupid stoner bastard.” The barber nods OK. I’m sure he’s being deliberately rough as he sets to work, shoving my head from side to side and pressing the clippers tightly against my scalp, totally ignoring my sunburn. Still, while my muscle control is coming back, I’m feeling fatigued, and before I know it I doze off. When I come to, the barber is holding a mirror up to the back of my head and tapping my shoulder impatiently. “Your haircut, sir.”

I see Caine’s reflection appear behind me, smiling broadly, flashing his perfect white teeth, then see my own eyes widen as I take in this new look. Gone is my fashionable London haircut. In it’s place is a modernised fusey bowl cut; the top third of my head is covered, but below that is a harsh line where I’ve been shaved bald. The barber must have done something to the hair he left on my head, as it’s now blow dried into a ridiculous, voluminous mess. I look like a giant iced gem. It’s a style I’ve only ever seen on the stupidest chavs and builders trying to copy their favourite stars from The Only Way is Essex. “Oi oi, Gaz, a perfect lad’s haircut for a night out with the boys!” Cain shouts in my ear. “Great idea with a perm innit?! You get this do for half a year without any work in the morning.” He reaches across to shake the barber’s hand. “Thanks, I promise Gaz is smiling too, aren’t you mate? Thinking of all the pussy you’ll get with your new do ain’t ya?” Both men laugh as Caine reaches into his pocket and pulls out what I see is my wallet, cramming a handful of euros into the barber’s hand; well above what I assume is triple their going rate it. “Keep the change mate.” The barber smiles. “Have a good one lads…” He turns to Caine and lowers his voice. “Please help your friend take a shower. He really needs one.”

“I can’t wait to tell the lads how you were too stinky to stay in that Turkish barbers! Classic Gaz! Gaz the Stinker! Must be all the growth hormone that is starting to kick in.” Caine howls as he leads me down the pavement, people are staring at us. The sun is above us, so it must be about lunch time.

“Now, Gaz, mate, we’ve got one more stop before we’re ready for our special lads’ night. But I want this one to be a surprise. Drink up.” He handed me the gym bottle again. Still thirsty I eagerly empty it. “Good lad. I added something extra, so it’s not just electrolytes and that mental patient docile stuff you had before. It’s time for you to have another little sleep. Not even a stab in your guts would wake you up…”

Eventually I do wake up, this time to the distant sound of buzzing. I know the drill by now; I try to speak, but no sound comes out. My senses clear and I feel the gentle touch of someone rubbing me with lotion. It stings. As I look around I realise with horror exactly where I am. He’s taken me to a fucking tattoo parlour. I don’t even have any tattoos…well, correction, I didn’t. I feel a lump in my throat as I dread to think of what Caine has in store for me. As if on cue, he appears. “Morning you lazy bastard! You’ve woken up just in time; quite a few helping hands worked together to sort out all those tats for you in time. But we got it just like you wanted, Gaz!”

I wonder what tattoo artists would work on an unconscious client, but I know Caine is a ruthlessly smooth talker. I remember articles I’d laughed at in the Daily Mail of people who’d had ridiculous tattoos done on holiday. Now, thanks to Caine, I could add my own name to that illustrious list.

“You guessed it mate, you’ve got some sick new ink. What’s better is Phoebe here is treating them with burn victim lotion. Seals those fuckers right in, so you can go swim tomorrow if you like. Makes them a bit blurry, but it’s no worse than any one year old tat. Let me show you on my phone…” With a manic glint in his eye, he slowly scrolls through the photos of the artist’s handiwork in front of my face with careful glee, enjoying how I can’t really react, but I still find myself gasping at what he shows me.

My body has been turned into a ridiculous canvas of male clichés; there are British flags and patriotic slogans, roses, poppies and images of football players I don’t even recognise on my arms, legs, neck and chest. There clearly is a wide range of styles and level of abilities represented. But the blazing centrepiece is a huge Celtic print of three letters across my back; a name, not my name, a name bestowed upon me today: ‘GAZ’, underlined with the grammatically incorrect phrase ‘Malia 2017. Lad’s on tour’

Caine locks eyes with me in triumph. “On other guys I’d think this much ink was stupid, but on you, mate, it’s fucking on point. I’m happy it came out perfect, since red and yellow can’t be lasered.” He swipes to the next photo, showing a gaudy glass stud in my earlobe. “It’s acid treated, so you don’t have to worry about the piercings growing shut.”

Everything is starting to blur together. Perhaps I’m in shock, and you would think for all the sleeping I’ve done today I would be on top of things. Caine has led me back to the cheap holiday apartment where this hellish day began. This time I can feel tingling, like pins and needles, of movement returning to my body. I’m able to stand up on my own, and I’m in the middle of a bedroom with Caine in front of me. He’s dressed really nicely in a white linen shirt, breathtakingly handsome. In spite of all that’s happening I can feel my penis bulging in the adidas shorts he put me in this morning. I don’t want to get hot for him, and perhaps this is another of his additions to the water, but I suspect he just is that hot. “Now, mate, let’s get the final touches for the finale. I want you to have a say in this, since you’ve been so good all day. Which footie top is it going to be for the big night? What do you say, Stinker? Red, or blue?”

He spins me around forcefully and I gaze up at two football shirts hanging on the wall. I assume they’ve both already been worn by one of my new ‘friends’ the night before. My shoulders slump in defeat and I quietly nod in the direction of the blue one. He pulls it over my head. As expected it smells of stale sweat. “Nice choice, mate. I think the red would have really brung out your sunburn. You really should get some aloe vera on that, you daft twat. No time for that now though, the lads are waiting and it’s taken you all fucking day to get ready.”

We’re in front of a club, waiting in a queue. Everyone is dressed nicely, in collared shirts and dresses, and I feel so conspicuous in my sweaty football gear. I’ve regained a lot of movement, but I’m lumbering and everything’s still fuzzy around the edges. “Sorry everyone!” Caine shouts “Gaz here has had five pints too many!” As we reach the front of the queue, a dapper bouncer blocks the way. “Identification, Sir.” The bouncer stressed the Sir a bit extra, dripping with disapproval. There was an awkward pause. I check the flimsy pockets of my football shorts, but they were as empty as I had expected them to be. “Oi, Gaz I have your new passport.” Caine handed over a passport to the bouncer. It was one of those temporary passports embassies issue for people daft enough to lose it while abroad. The bouncer opened it, made a quick look, and handed it back. With far fewer pages than a normal passport it looked flimsy. I opened it and flipped to the identification page. Most of the fields were what I would expected them to be. Height, sex, number all as expected. The expiration date was only a month in the future. Again, nothing surprising for a temporary passport. But the photo made me nauseous. It was a photo from today, though I had no memory of it being taken. My mouth was slack jawed open, eyes bloodshot, sleepy and unfocused, skin unevenly tanned. To crown it all, that ugly haircut and two slits shaved in my left eye brow. I had no memory of that being done either. I raised my hand to confirm. I was painfully aware that had the photo been shot a few hours later there would also be a pair of cheap studs in my freshly pierced ears and an ugly tattoo snaking up from the tank top, on the side of the neck.

Just as horrifying as my run-down visage was the name in the passport. Instead of John Holland, my name, it says "Gaz Taylor". As if he could read my mind, though that wouldn't be that hard at the moment, Caine spoke again. “The lads were kind enough to submit a deed poll to correct your name before getting your temp passport. With any luck your new permanent ID card should be waiting for you when you get home. I say permanent, but you can of course change name again in like 2 years, or whatever their hold off time is.” The club is classy, expensive and busy. Caine guides me across the room, his hand pressing firmly into the small of my back, over to a group of men who are chatting among themselves. Of course it’s the same group of lads as the day before, my new ‘mates’. “Fellas…you remember Gaz? He’s very sorry about last night and really keen to make it up to you all!” They turn, and I feel their eyes on me, taking me in; the tattoos, the outfit, the piercings, the hair. They’re all dressed nicely, suave and in sharp contrast to the ridiculous figure Caine has shaped me into; there’s a moment of silence before they burst into raucous laughter.

Soon I’m being shoved from person to person, they’re all shaking my hands, offering me swigs of their pint, clapping me on the back and eager to spend time with their new ‘mate’. I feel that even with those minuscule amounts of beer, my tired body is sinking fast. One of them squeezes my bicep, asking me if I’ve started to swell yet and if I watched the match last night. Another asks me if I knew there was a dress code, pointing at my top and loudly shouting “Classic Gaz”. Someone named Chris tells me he knows a guy who needs concrete workers, and write a number with a marker pen on my arm. Another pulls me over, asks me what the capital of Thailand is, before slapping me hard in the balls and saying “Bang cock!” They are all taking the piss out of me.

I’m standing with a guy called Shaun, who is showing me a top he picked up for me that day that is also ‘Classic Gaz’, a lime green t shirt proudly emblazoned with the words ‘MUFF DIVER’. However, this presentation is cut short by lights flashing from outside in red and blue, and the music in the club stops abruptly. The boys scatter and I feel a lump of joy in my throat. Somebody must have informed the police; finally my nightmare is over!

Four police officers quickly advance towards me. I look around and Caine is no where to be seen. In fact I don’t recognise anyone around me. I don’t realise how drunk I am until two of the officers roughly restrain me and put me in handcuffs. I try to speak to them, but they completely ignore anything I say, and as I’m shoved into the back of a police car I can hear the music start in the club again.

I wake up as they drag me out of the car. Everything is so unreal. Like it is happening to someone else. A police man is asking me questions and I think I answer them. Two officers take me to a well lit room and tell me to take off my clothes. Flip flops, shorts, shirt. Every piece can be removed in one motion. They take photos. They look in my mouth. I lie on my belly on an angled, padded table. I’ve had things in my ass many times before, but this wasn’t what I hoped for. I get dressed again. They take me to a small cell, and I can finally fall asleep.

When I wake up again for a few seconds everything feels fine. Nothing hurts. A bit thirsty perhaps, but nothing more. Then I see a horrible football tattoo and a cellphone number scribbled on my arm, and all the memories of what has been done to me floods back. There is no clock in the cell, so I don’t know exactly how many hours I sit there until someone comes to get me, but I have plenty of time to consider my situation. I understand what Caine meant with growth hormones producing smelly sweat, because it is definitively me and not the clothes that stink the worst.

When someone finally come and get me it is a police officer explaining they got a call about a drug dealer matching my description. While they didn’t find any drugs, I was clearly under the influence and they kept me in custody. The blood report showed a whole buffet of different drugs, but being under the influence isn’t an offense in itself. He further informs me that a report has been sent to Europol so I should arrive airports an hour earlier from now on, as I can expect thorough searches. With that he wishes me good luck and hope I can get my life back on track. He has no idea.

Lastly he hands me a sports bag. I had been checked out of the hotel while in custody, and the bag was the only thing in my room. A last laugh from Caine. The bag contains a wrinkled bundle of damp clothes. Joggers, sweatshirt, t-shirt, a pair of seriously worn trainers and three socks. No underwear. It’s as if someone did a hard workout and then put his clothes in sealed bag for a day. No matter how I am getting home, it will be just as unpleasant for any travelers close to me, since without wallet this is what I’ll wear.

In the side pocket is a hotel envelope containing three papers. The checkout folio from the hotel, a Ryanair boarding pass for the evening flight back in the name Gaz Taylor, and a fax from my employer. Or rather former employer, as it reads “Upon receiving the drug use report we are hereby terminating your employment effective immediately in accordance with section 18 (e) of your employment contract.” I look again at the phone number scribbled on my arm.

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hello-there · 9 days ago

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Communities are a new way to connect with the people on Tumblr who care about the things you care about! Browse Communities to find the perfect one for your interests or create a new one and invite your friends and mutuals!

#tumblr communities #communities

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tokoyami-squad · 5 years ago

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The Evil Warlock

“Father,when can I go outdoors? I know you say the outside world is dangerous,but-but maybe I can prove you wrong!” Ochako pleaded.

Her father knotted her eyebrows and knelt down on the floor to be the same height as his daughter.

“My dear Uraraka,when your mum and I were young,we went out for a walk and a bad guy called the Evil Warlock killed your poor mother. The Evil Warlock has a potion that persuades people to join forces with him. And,there’s a lot of chance that you will touch the potion. I don’t want you to be evil,my dear. I told you this sad story many times,did I? Now go to take a nap,”

Ochako nodded and headed to her room. She has to go out of the world at least one day.

That afternoon nap,she can’t sleep. She tossed and turned on her bed,thinking of the outside world. She really wanted to go outside and explore.

“Creak!”

The door opened. Ochako sat up quickly,her heart beating.

“Would it be the Evil Warlock?” She thought.

She opened the door ajar and peeked her head out. She saw a shadow on the floor and didn’t dare to look up and see who caused the shadow. The person chuckled slyly and said,”Today,Ochako will join my evil forces! Daughter and father! How amazingly fun. Got my potion ready! I can’t wait. The Evil Warlock is getting more helpers!”

The poor teenager gasped quietly. It was her dad. Her dad was the Evil Warlock. But the worst thing is,her dad killed her beloved mother. Ochako burst into tears and ran towards the window,floating,and crying.

She was in the outside world.

It was a bright,beautiful place. Just like a legend. It was not like home, dark, gloomy and boring.

She smiled,full of delight. She escaped her house,she escaped her dad.

Her dad. Her dad’s the Evil Warlock.

***

“Where’s Ochako?” The Evil Warlock asked himself. He looked closely and saw glass on her bed and a broken window.

“Urgh!” He shouted,”I forgot about her silly quirk!”

But little does Ochako know,the Evil Warlock still has many evil plans in mind...

***

Uraraka ran as fast as her legs could take her,holding back tears. When she was tired,she sat down on the floor and breathed hardly,drinking the water she grabbed when she escaped.

The people walking on the street glared at her,seeing a strange girl sitting on the floor alone with wet cheeks.

Uraraka suddenly heard laughters at the other side of the street. There was about ten people.

A boy,just the same age of Ochako with sea green hair took notice of her. He tapped a person with a bird head and the bird head person also looked at her.

The poor girl stood up,ready to run.

“Wait!” A really tall man stopped her with his six long arms.

Ochako turned,and saw the boy with green hair who noticed her,a person with a raven head,a boy with spikey red hair,a blond boy with a grumpy face,a cute girl with pink skin,pink hair and with little horns on her head,a man who wears a blue mask with six long arms and mouths and eyes on them,a boy who looks like he was born in China with black,sharp hair,a girl with long,green hair tied up like a bow with a super long tongue,a boy who has sticks on his legs and with glasses and a short kid with purple balls on his head.

“Hi,do I know you?” Ochako asked. Definitely not.

“Of course we don’t know each other,DUMBASS!” The blond guy yelled rudely and continued watching a YouTube video on his phone.

Uraraka was shocked and stepped back a little.

“I’m sorry,don’t mind him,he’s...you know,a little bit rude to strangers. We just saw you lost and scared,and maybe we could take you home?” The green hair boy said nicely that calmed Ochako down.

“NO!” Uraraka screamed.

“Oh,I’m so,so,so sorry...” Uraraka smiled awkwardly.

She then explained everything that happened.

“The Evil Warlock?! It’s the villain all the heroes are inspecting about!” say the red haired boy.

Uraraka shifted uncomfortably and nodded like she was forced to.

“Oh sorry,we forgot to tell you our names,” the bird head said and sent a glare to the rest of them.

“Tokoyami Fumikage,” said bird head.

“Izuku Midoriya,” said green hair.

“Shoji Mezo,” said six arms.

“Tsuyu Asui,” said the frog tongue.

“Hinata Sero,” said China boy.

“Katsuki Bakugou,” scoffed blond boy.

“Hi! I’m Mina Ashido!” Pink girl with horns said excitedly.

“Mineta Minoru,and I would like to touch your breasts,” the kid stretched his hands out.

The glasses boy slapped the kid.

“Sorry,he’s a bit of a...a...pervert. I’m Iida Tenya,” the glasses boy saluted.

“Kirishima Ojiro,” red hair raised his hand,”And...you?”

“Ochako Uraraka,” she whispered.

Izuku looked hopefully to his friends. They immediately know what he wanted.

“Not in my dorm,she’ll be scared of the dark,” Tokoyami protested.

“DON’T LOOK AT ME,YOU STUPID,DAMN NERD!” Bakugou shouted and put on his earphones.

Ochako sat back down on the same spot on the floor.

“Tell Mr. Aizawa. Aizawa is our teacher,” Iida offered and advice.

“Yes,great idea. YOU THINK HE WILL ACCEPT THIS?!” Kirishima crossed his arms.

“It’s ok,if he doesn’t agree,he can stay with my mum and All Might,” Izuku beamed.

“Seriously,you live with All Might?” Shoji scoffed.

Midoriya shook uncomfortably.

“No-no! He visits everyday,you know...uh...we’re close!”

Everyone rolled their eyes and quickly turned back to Ochako.

“Come on then,follow me,we’re about to go to our dorm and get ready to have dinner anyways,” Asui held her hand out and Uraraka took it shyly.

They walked for ten minutes,also knowing more about Ochako on the way.

When they stopped in front of the school,Ochako exclaimed,”You go to UA? It’s my dream school! But...my dad doesn’t let me go to the entrance exam...”

***

“Mr. Aizawa,we have someone we want you to meet,” Sero said anxiously,already knowing the he will refuse the condition.

“Yes,Sero’s right,it’s a really cute girl named Ochako Uraraka! She’s nice by the way,just a little bit shy,” Mina took Ochako’s hand and moved her closer the Aizawa.

Aizawa turned and examined the girl,and frowned.

“We will not accept intruders! Take her out and tell her to go home!” Aizawa said blankly and turned away after.

Ochako turned away sadly and headed towards the exit.

“MR. AIZAWA! SHE’S THE EVIL WARLOCK’S DAUGHTER! SHE ESCAPED HOME USING HER QUIRK!!!” Izuku shouted,thinking of the aftermath if Ochako was not safe.

Aizawa’s eyes shone with light. “Come back,Uraraka!”

Uraraka stopped walking and turned around with a hopeful look in her eyes.

“You can stay if only you tell facts about your deadly father.”

She nodded.

“Very well. Now go take a shower in the right wing where the girls dorm room are when I tell Principal Nezu. Later I will show you to your room and protect you from the Evil Warlock. Then later dinner will be served. Oh,and I’m sure the bathroom with have some extra clothes. You can wear them if you want. Now go,” Aizawa said and crawled inside his sleeping bag.

“Don’t think he’s gonna tell Nezu,he’s gonna sleep,” Ochako heard Tokoyami whisper to Shoji.

But she didn’t care,as long as there’s somewhere safe for her — especially UA,it’s fine and she’s very graceful for it.

After taking a nice bath and changed her clothes,Aizawa showed her to her room.

Moments later it was 6:30. Dinner time.

Everyone gathered around the dining hall and got their dinner. The ten students that saved Ochako sat together and chatted non-stop (except Tokoyami,he was just sitting there eating his burger while listening to other people chat).

“Wait,I’ll be right back,” Izuku told his friends and slipped away.

***

“Knock,knock!”

There was someone knocking Ochako’s room. She opened her door and Izuku was standing there.

“Hi...um,you can come in if you want,” Uraraka told him,cause she couldn’t find any better idea than that.

Izuku handed her a tray with food on it.

“Here,I figured you don’t know where the dining hall is. So I got some food for you,it’s burger and fries,hope you like it. And also,the dining hall is downstairs. Just take the lift,you’ll find it at the end of the girls dorm area.”

Uraraka smiled at the kind boy.

“Thanks,Izuku,you’re so thoughtful.”

“I’ll always be here,” Izuku replied and got up,”You can eat,I-I’ll give you some privacy. See you soon.”

Ochako blushed and Izuku slammed their door.

Everyday,Ochako will nap,take a walk in the dorm gardens,check her phone,watch YouTube,and sometimes Koda’s rabbit will come stratch her door and she will play with that little guy. Izuku visits her everyday was normal and fun.

Days pasts by,Ochako and Izuku knew each other more and they got closer. And yesterday was Friday,and Izuku wants her to meet her mother,Inko Midoriya. Ochako was very excited about this.

Inko thought she was a nice,beloved girl and treated her well as a guest. She also let her sleep at the Midoriya house every weekend because the dorms won’t be open.

“Come on! I’ll show you to my room!” Izuku cried and led her way to his room.

It has light blue wallpaper but it was full of All Might posters and pictures and two All Might figures.

“You love All Might? I love him too! Sacrificed a lot,did he. But now he isn’t the No.1 hero...that’s sad. My favourite hero is No.13. I guess yours are All Might!” Ochako said and threw her hands up high in the air.

Izuku chuckled.

“Oh yes,I’m a big fan of All Might! Bakugou loves him too. He’s really cool,don’t you think?”

Ochako nodded and sat on Izuku’s bed. His bed is really soft,and it reminds her about her mother always tucking her into bed when she was a little tiny kiddo. But thinking of his mother,she remembered her father.

“But what about my father?!” She cried suddenly.

Izuku sat on his bed with Uraraka.

“Don’t worry,UA is safe,I heard that the pro heroes are after him,” Izuku said,comforting his friends.

“Thanks for everything.”

Midoriya beamed.

Ochako shifted closer to Izuku and put her head on his shoulder. Izuku held her face up and their lips smacked together. They both touched each other’s soft lips and till Ochako pushed him away playfully.

“I guess we can share the same bed today,” Izuku joked and they continued to kiss passionately.

***

“You and your father has Instagram,right? We are doing a search of your father and we need his location,” Aizawa asked Ochako.

“Oh yes,he does. I pulled a prank on him making an account. Thank goodness I did that,” she replied and handed him her phone.

“Oh god,he’s in Tokyo! We need to get there!”

Ochako really wants to stop her dad and she got an idea.

“Mr. Aizawa,let me go to defeat my father. I may know his plans and skills and help you defeat him. Please let me go,I could be useful!”

Aizawa shook his head and left.

***

“Izuku?”

Ochako explained everything to her boyfriend. After listening,Izuku kissed her on the cheek.

“Ochako,I’ll think about it and tell you if I’ll go with you tomorrow. Now go to sleep,I’ll wake you up tomorrow.”

Ochako sighed and kissed him on the lips to say goodnight.

The next morning,Izuku decided to go with Ochako to secretly go to Tokyo and defeat the Evil Warlock.

“Ring! Ring!”

Ochako picked up her phone.

“Hello?”

“It’s Aizawa.”

“Yes?”

“Quirk?”

At first Ochako didn’t know what he’s up to but she soon realised.

“Telekinesis.”

“Ok,thanks.”

And he hung up.

She called Izuku.

“Zuku,they’re going now! Quick,meet me in the gardens!”

“Ok.”

The couple quickly dressed and followed the heroes secretly to defeat the Evil Warlock.

The fight has only just begun...

Aizawa tied the Evil Warlock with his ropes on his neck and the warlock turned around.

“Oh,you found me. What smart little babies. These ropes tied to me are just a little silly trick for a villain. Don’t you know...?”

The warlock stared at the ropes and they immediately broke.

“Well,well,well...now WHO wants to fight...?” The villain asked and chuckled slyly,”I have many tricks up my sleeve...if your wondering. Prepare to die today.”

Izuku and Ochako arrived at the venue. Ochako’s eyes lit up.

“I have an idea.”

They ran the building next to where they are fighting and tried to budge open the door.

“It’s locked,” Ochako said,looking at Izuku.

“Oh no! So what do we do?”

“Smash it open.”

There’s a loud bang and the people who were fighting turned around but the two moved quickly and disappeared in the building. Ochako touched the walls and it parted from the building and floated.

“Izuku,hide and I’ll run to the other building and make the wall float. Here,take this AirPod and had in my pocket somehow,probably it was there when I escaped,and I’ll give you a signal to smash the rock open,right on father’s head. Remember,Aizawa is the closest to father,don’t kill him. Try your best.”

Ochako kissed him and left.

She ran as fast as her legs could take her and made the wall float.

“Zuku,now.”

“Got it.”

Izuku jumped and aimed at the middle. Ochako made the wall fall just in time and Izuku smashed both of the walls with his legs and it all collapsed on the villain.

The pro heroes looked up and saw two kids on top of the building and cheered.

It was always a happy ending. Or so they thought.

The next morning,they arrived back in the Class 1-A dorm.

But suddenly,Aizawa budge opened the doors and Izuku’s room,where Ochako and Izuku were talking about that fight.

“Did you know you two can get into big trouble?! That was a REAL VILLAIN! What can I tell Nezu?”

Izuku shrugged. Aizawa sighed and left the room. Ochako smiled at her boyfriend and kissed him fiercely and roughly.

But they didn’t know that something dangerous was coming in their way.

That night,Ochako was sleeping in her room,snoring softly. Suddenly,a cold,chilly breeze opened Ochako’s window. A man wearing a cloak and a mask stepped in and gently tied ropes around the girl,not waking her up.

“Let’s see how you escape me today,shall we...?” He let out a cunning,deadly smile and disappeared through the window along with Ochako.

***

“Uraraka! Wake up! You’re so late for breakfast!” Sero rushed into Ochako’s room and looked around. He lifted up the covers but there was no one.

“Ochako?” Sero called. There was no response.

“Hey,Yaomomo,check the bathroom and see if she’s there or she’ll miss breakfast!” Sero yelled as loud as he could.

Momo ran up the stairs and panted,”Roger that!”

She ran the the girls’ bathroom and called,”Uraraka-san! Are you here? Breakfast’s almost over,wanna come together?”

There was no response too.

She ran down to the dining hall.

“Izuku! Your girlfriend’s missing!” Yaomomo told Midoriya.

He jumped up from the chair and searched the whole dorm with Yaomomo and Sero. There was no one.

Izuku gulped loudly that everyone heard.

“There’s only ONE reason left...her father didn’t die.”

***

“No,do not go,” Aizawa put on his goggles and said firmly.

“I fought Overhaul! We won! I fought ten thousand villains! I don’t know if it’s that much...but still! Let me go save Ochako! Please!!!” Izuku pleaded.

Aizawa sighed.

“Fine,but now you go change,take Ochako’s phone downstairs and tell your dear friend Shinso to go with us. He might be useful.”

Izuku saluted.

***

The Evil Warlock took off Ochako’s blindfold. Ochako scanned the area and made a confused face.

“Where am I?”

She quickly caught a glimpse of her father and gasped.

“You! You...you! Didn’t you die?”

“I am not stupid,my beloved daughter. I saw the walls about to collapse on me and quickly moved away,” the warlock chuckled and took a bottle out of his belt.

“The potion!” Ochako let out a squeak,”I’m not joining forces with you!”

The warlock opened the cap bottle using his eyes.

“The thing is...you are. I made this potion for years,and I’m not gonna just put it aside and let it sit. Don’t worry my dear. No one’s going to save you...this MY secret lair!” The warlock raised the bottle and suddenly...

“YOU CAN’T BEAT US,WARLOCK!” Izuku shouted.

The gang glared at him.

“What are you doing?” Aizawa hissed,”I told you to FOLLOW my plan!”

Izuku apologised. “Sorry,I forgot!”

The villain clapped his hands and a dozen of wolves came out of nowhere. Ochako locked eyes with Shinso and got an idea.

“Father,I know I can’t escape this,so I have to join your forces,unfortunately. But before that,can I ask you a question?”

“Certainly.”

“Did you love me in the past when I don’t know you were a villain?”

“Of course I do. Why ask?”

“Cause I love you too. So farewell.”

The warlock gave a confused face to everybody. Ochako nodded to Shinso and mouthed,”Get ready.”

“I’m not going to die.”

The wolves growled fiercely and slowly stepped closer,snapping their mouths and saliva dripping.

Suddenly,the villain’s eyes went white.

“Walk forward to me,” Shinso ordered.

The villain walked to him.

The gang of heroes looked at each other and then ran to the villain and punched him till he fainted.

At the police station,Aizawa erased his quirk for a few seconds and the police handled him.

But at the dorm,a couple was on the bed,kissing till the moon goes down and the sun goes up.

Hi Tumblr friends! It’s been a long time since I posted a fanfic. This fic is bad and I think I kinda wrote something wrong in there. But I think I improved a little bit. I hope you enjoy and like this post. Have a great day and stay safe. Or you can go to Archive of our own too, make sure to give kudos! Ps. My username is CrazyBookworm

#bnha #mha #izuku #midoriya izuku #ochako uraraka #deku x ochako #aizawa shouta #class 1a #bnha shinsou

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whimperwoods · 5 years ago

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The Drowner 7 - Barn/29-Day Whump Challenge Day 6

This is actually 2 things at once! I knew I wanted generally this to come next in the Drowner series, but the details got clearer when I looked through the prompts for the 29-Day Whump Challenge.

Day 6: Tortured || Teeth Knocked Out

Thanks to @yuckwhump for the challenge prompts! The rest of the Drowner series is indexed here.

*****

The quiet darkness of the barn was a safer place to be alone than the outside of the cemetery or the exit of the cave full of landbeasts or the edge of the haunted ruins, and the drowner tried to make the most of it, curling up in a corner, half-buried in hay as she waited for the man to come back.

She didn’t like being this close to people. People were fine when you outnumbered them, but when they outnumbered you - she didn’t cry, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want her human back to protect her.

The barn door creaked as it opened, and she looked up eagerly from her corner.

The figure in the doorway wasn’t her person. It was a smaller man, shorter and skinnier, and she ducked back down again, wriggling to bury herself shallowly in the hay and hoping he hadn’t seen her. She stifled a whimper. This wasn’t her man. He wouldn’t know what she wanted. He wouldn’t know anything.

She couldn’t see the door anymore when the voices started, two of them, but she pressed herself farther into the corner and kept silent.

For a few minutes, they talked and laughed and moved around, making scraping noises that sent shivers up her spine. The hay quivered around her and the cloth the man had wrapped her in fluttered up and down, but she couldn’t stop trembling.

Then the footsteps and voices got closer, and she tried even harder to be invisible.

The feet and voices stopped abruptly.

“Did you see-”

“Is there something-”

One of the voices answered both half-questions. “Yeah. We’d better check it out. Probably a raccoon or a fox or something.”

He mind spun. She couldn’t run. She could crawl more than she could a few days ago, but not as fast as people moved, even people who weren’t the man. She tried to wriggle farther under the hay, but it was too late - the footsteps were coming toward her, and they didn’t stop or change directions.

When a long, spiked thing flipped the hay in front of her away from her face, leaving her visible, she didn’t whimper. When the boys cursed, surprised, she didn’t whine. When their eyes widened in fear at her first movement to get the hay back on top of herself, she didn’t keep moving.

It wasn’t enough.

When the spikes of the thing stabbed into her half-healed side, her pained, terrified keen was louder than even the boy’s shout, and then all hell was breaking loose.

She pulled in on herself, covering her head with her arms, and another big thing with a large handle came crashing down across her shoulder, arm, and head. The spikey thing stabbed her again. She screamed, lashing out with her claws to buy herself enough time to roll over and protect the injuries, but the boys had long handles and they were too far back, and she had only rolled halfway before the big flat thing slammed into her stomach, the sharp, straight edge of it cutting into her this time.

She shrieked loudly as the spikes came at her, immediately behind the flat thing, and rolled back onto her good side because it was the only way to avoid the spikes, which stabbed into the hay behind her.

She lashed out, but the boy was still a hair too far away. He stomped down hard on her hand, breaking one of her claws, and she howled in pain.

The flat thing smashed into her stomach, driving the breath from her, and then the boys were rushing in on her, kicking at her middle while she was stretched out too far to protect it. She tried to get her arms back over her head, to curl into herself, to keep as much of herself away from them as she could, but then the long-handled things were back, delivering crushing blows to her sides and stabbing at her stomach so that she had to keep rolling away from the spikes before they could tear through her again, the fabric around her doing nothing to help.

The next time a foot came near her, she tried instinctively to bite it, but the boy with the flat thing was too fast, and the rounded side of the thing slammed into her jaw. Her mouth snapped shut, her teeth sinking into her tongue and making her mouth fill quickly with blood. When she opened it again to scream, a heavy boot came down over her mouth, smashing into her fangs and lower jaw and knocking several teeth loose. The pain radiated intensely through her head, making her eyes water as the sharp sting rang through her entire jaw.

The men leapt backward again, out of her reach, and her jaw hurt too badly to scream, so as they continued to batter and stab at her with their tools, she whined and hissed and tried to evade them, knowing she was trapped here. No one was coming to help. Nothing was coming to help. She was alone.

One of her ribs cracked, making her breathless and dizzy as the pain exploded through her, and the spikes ripped through the bandages in her side, slicing new cuts into the flesh of her already wounded side.

She was going to die. She was going to die. The cuts across her side burned, but it was nothing to the agony of her broken rib and cracked jaw. Every breath hurt, and the world started going dark around the edges as she continued to fight for breath through it anyway.

She didn’t recognize the man’s voice at first. He barked a loud, “Hey!” from the door, and then “Stop that!”

The flat thing came down against her side again, landing over where it had broken her rib. She felt a tearing in her side, and the pain of the blow made her dizzy, her vision swimming with black spots.

Feet were coming. Fast. She couldn’t breathe deeply enough to whimper. She couldn’t protect her head and her side at the same time. Her eyes and nose were running with tears and snot, and she made a strangled, garbled noise, like she was about to vomit.

There was a clanging. The man spoke again. “I said stop! Drop the damned shovel.”

Another clang, and she looked up to see a familiar sword locked between the spikes of the spikey thing, pushing it away from her.

Dazed, she watched the man wrench the spiked thing out of one boy’s hands and hit the flat thing out of the other one’s hands with the flat side of his sword.

“Get out of here.” He sounded calm, and deadly serious.

The boys tried to protest all at once, the words toppling over each other, loud and confusing, and in the moment of peace, she caught her breath enough to whine up at the man.

The flat of the sword slapped against one of the boys’ hips. “I said out.” He still sounded calm, but something about it was cold.

The boy he’d hit yelped. The boy said something panicked, his voice rising up into a high pitch that hurt her ears. Then both boys were running.

For a moment, the man stood over her, watching them go, and she let herself relax, her whole body shuddering with instinctive half-sobs even as the movement sent spikes of pain through her side.

Her voice was back to a soft whimper by the time the man knelt beside her. “Alright,” he said, his voice softer and warmer than he’d used with the boys who had hit her. “No more town, for a bit. Let me see.”

She sobbed, not moving, and he sheathed his sword and reached for her, prying gently at her bad arm to get it away from her side. She retched, her body convulsing in a combination of fear and pain, but the man had said they would eat after he got paid, and there was nothing to throw up. She spat out the teeth she’d lost, and panted to catch her breath.

“None of that. Let me see you.”

His voice was still warm around the edges. She let him move her bad arm, relaxing her good one where she’d tried to wrap it around her head from underneath. Her whole body was shaking wildly, every quake filling her with more pain as it jarred her rib and jaw.

The man pushed the fabric around her up from the bottom, until it hit the arm tube and he stopped. He made a little sympathetic noise as he pressed gloved fingers next to one of the stab wounds the spike thing had left across her torso in neat lines. Then as he moved to examine the gash from the edge of the other thing, his hand brushed against the place on her side where her rib was broken and she screamed, louder than she’d thought she could, and found herself retching again.

"Fuck,” he said darkly, displeased. She wanted to whine for mercy, but it was all she could do to breathe, the pain in her side making everything else feel vague and out of reach.

The man didn’t touch her side again, not there, but she could feel his golden eyes examining her. She whined softly once she had enough breath back for it, and his eyes flicked up to her face. His eyebrows contracted.

“What are-” he picked up one of her teeth from its place on the barn floor, by her head, and cursed again. Then he sighed. “Alright. Sit up. Let me see.”

He helped her sit, and she went where his hands nudged her, even though she wasn’t sure she was strong enough until she was all the way up.

His fingers pressed only at the uninjured side of her jaw, and she realized he wanted her to open her mouth. For a moment, terror rolled through her. Did he like that she couldn’t bite without her teeth? Did he want her to have fewer teeth? But then she remembered everything else, and with his second light press to her jaw, she opened her mouth for him, her eyes tearing up again.

“‘S alright.” He wiped the tears and snot from her face and then pulled her jaw farther open gently, examining her teeth. His gloved fingers felt strange inside her mouth, prodding gently at the gap where three of her bottom teeth were missing, all next to each other, but she didn’t bite, and he didn’t press hard.

He grunted, then nodded. “Fish then. You can chew it on your other side.” She kept her mouth open as he twisted her head gently to the side to look at her bruised jaw, but once his fingers were out of her mouth, they stayed out. She vaguely remembered being told not to bite him, before, but he hadn’t said anything this time. That was good. That meant he knew. He knew she didn’t mean any harm.

“Gonna have to just cut the shirt off,” he said gruffly. She knew enough not to flinch away when he drew his short knife, and surely enough, he cut through the fabric around her and not through her. She whined softly. He grunted in acknowledgment.

Once she was free of the fabric, he sheathed his dagger and lifted her carefully into his arms, keeping his hands under her good side.

“Let’s clean you up. Ruin that trough outside just a little. Then we’ll find you something soft to eat and we’ll leave town.”

She breathed as deeply as she could with the pain in her side, and felt her racing heart begin to slow back down. She was safe against the man’s chest, where she’d been so often these last few days. She was safe, and other people weren’t as strong as hers. She closed her eyes, leaning into him and letting the motion as he walked soothe her, drooling slightly as her jaw dangled open and she breathed.

#whump #creature whump #monster whump #creature whumpee #monster whumpee #witcher whump #fantasy whump #beatings #teeth #hiding #fear #broken ribs #rescue #hurt/comfort #29-day whump challenge #the drowner #in case it's not clear the other implement is a pitchfork #the flat one is the shovel

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sleepyfan-blog · 6 years ago

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*Tired nyoom* I'm tired, stressed, and requesting some angsty Angel's Flower with that thing we discussed in Discord with Ink trying to basically get rid of Venus and take Heelies back home

fandom: Undertale AU

characters and pairing: Ink, Heliotrope, Venus - ocs by @izzy-the-bizzy Angel’s Flower

warnings: attempted murder, kidnapping

word count: 2,116

Summary: Ink is determined to save his poor, brainwashed son from the seductive clutches of Evil. Even if he has to kill to do it.

tagslist: @anxiety-is-married-to-depression @angelofthehalfmoon @trainwreck-of-skeletons @hisame-amadashi @therandomskelekey @capisnotonfire

Ink was pacing back and forth, the more that he thought about the argument that he had with Heelies, the more upset that he got.

“You do realize that Venus is Nightmare’s top spy! They are trying to turn you to his side, so that you will fight against us and spread evil!” Ink had pointed out with a growl, not wanting his precious son to be tainted by Nightmare’s darkness.

“Yes, I know that they work for Nightmare! But they would never hurt me, and I love them. They love me.” Heelies snapped back, his generally laid back and easy going demeanor having changed completely. The younger skeleton is glaring at his dad and his fists are balled at his sides.

Ink has never seen his son so aggressive before - further proof that Nightmare and this Venus have been trying and are succeeding in twisting his gentle, naive baby boy into someone dangerous and deadly. “Nightmare is an expert in breaking minds and twisting people to suit his will. I don’t want him to break you and turn you into a parody of who you are, Heelies. I love you dearly, and I want you to be safe.”

“I am safe! And you say that Nightmare is evil and wants to destroy the multiverse. He doesn’t - I’ve seen how he deals with some of the worst timelines I’ve ever seen. He negotiates with their leaders - the human and monster - in exchange for resources or space. Yes, he is interfering with the stories that the timelines are supposed to take… But he seems to be trying to interfere for the better.” Heelies huffed, glaring more at his papa, shaking with anger.

Ink’s eye lights widen, and he whispers just loud enough for his son to hear “By the creators… I was worried that things were bad, but I… I hadn’t thought that Nightmare and that seductive spy of his had twisted your mind so far…” He reached out to his son, but Heelies darted back, the scowl on his face darker than Ink had ever seen it.

“Ven hasn’t twisted my mind, and neither has Mr. Nightmare. Both of them are very different hen who you believe them to be, dad. I… This was exactly the reason why I never wanted to tell you that I was dating someone. I knew that you’d freak out about it, especially since Ven isn’t the sort of person you’d approve of me dating.” Heelies had hissed, hurt and frustrated and unwilling to let Ink reach out and hug the other close, to help him calm down.

“Heelies, please be reasonable. Don’t-” Ink began, trying to placate his son, but the other cut him off abruptly.

“I am being reasonable! You’re the one who won’t listen! I’m leaving and you can’t stop me!” Heliotrope had yelled, teleporting away and though Ink tried to teleport after the other, Heelies had used several portals through a half-dozen AUs, and Ink couldn’t track the other.

Ink had managed to find his wayward, manipulated son. Heliotrope was, of course, in the timeline that Nightmare had set up his main base - or at least one of them. It was the base that Nightmare held Dream hostage on numerous occasions, and trying to get into that timeline was always a pain, as the very magic of the AU seemed to resist his presence entering it. Ink was fairly sure that NIghtmare had somehow woven spells into the base code of the timeline itself so that he couldn’t enter timelines with liquids in them somehow.

But for now, the creative guardian wasn’t wondering how that was fucking possible. He had decided on a course of action. Venus was the one who had stolen his precious’ son’s heart, and as long as they were alive, they would have a pull on his heart, as Heelies was an intensely loyal and caring person (much like his papa, Blue)… So Ink was going to kill Venus and take his son back. He was well aware of the fact that killing them would hurt Heelies, but it would be for the best. Heelies would eventually forgive him, especially after the other forgot about Venus - as Heelies did have some of Ink’s own forgetfulness tendencies, needing to keep a pad of paper and something to write with in his inventory to keep track of important things.

He and Blue had argued about what to do for months and months. But Ink was certain that the longer that they hesitated and delayed, the more deeply brainwashed and darker Heelies would become, and the longer it would take for his son to recover from the awful misery that Nightmare was doubtlessly putting their son through. He wrote a note to Blue and Dream - in case either one of them stopped by the house before he was back.

I’m going to go get Heelies back! And make sure that the one who took him from us is permanently dealt with. See you later! ~Ink

With a roll of his shoulders, Ink concentrated hard on Nightmare’s castle, intending to appear on the roof, rather than inside one of the rooms, where someone could be in and then alert the rest of the castle to his presence. It took a solid ten minutes of focusing, but Ink felt his magic shift and twist.

He activated his eye lights and sure enough, the rust-red sky was overhead, the miserable bare dirt fields that extended in rolling waves all around the spikey, intimidating looking castle. Ink closed his eyes, a small smirk playing on his lips as he sensed Venus’s magic. They were alone from what he could tell. Good, that would make things easier. He teleported directly outside of the younger skeleton’s room, broom in hand. He activated a bit of his magic, the magical paint beginning to drip from the tip of broomy’s brush as he walked in.

Venus turned towards him, the smile on their face falling somewhat as they recognized him “I… Oh… Hello?” They looked a little cautious but confused. “Uhm… Why are you here?”

“To see you and Heelies, of course. It’s been months since I’ve seen my son, and I’m worried about him… You are in possession of his heart. He’s’ a gentle soul. Sweet, cheerful… Oh, he can pretend to be scary and bluster all he likes… But you and I both know that he couldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Haha… Yeah. Heelies is such a pacifist. It’s really endearing to see him try to spar against a couple of the others though. He tries really hard. He just… He’s wonderful.” The vile villain hummed, an amused smirk playing on their lips, a cruel parody of a loving tone in their voice. “He misses you and Blue. He won’t admit it easily, but I can sense that he does. He’d be so happy to hear that you’re in the castle ‘cause you want to talk to him.”

“Actually, I wanted to speak to you, first. As I previously stated, you hold my son’s rather fragile soul in your hands… And I just…” Ink sighs, shaking his head as he takes his brush from behind his back, beginning to lean on it, faux-casually “I’m just not convinced that you’re the right person for him. How many have you killed? How many AUs have fallen into NIghtmare’s control because of the intel that you gather? Dozens? Hundreds? I know that your LV is comparable to Dust or Killers, and they’ve both slaughtered their entire timeline - and that was before Nightmare got his hands on them.”

Venus flinched, looking away from him, shifting uncomfortably, their wings partially wrapping around themself in a gesture that would be a subconscious attempt at soothing themself if Ink didn’t know that they were a master manipulator - just like their boss, Nightmare. “I… I’d rather not think about how many people I’ve killed. I-I’ve killed many of them in s-self defense. Besides we’ve… We’ve been doing things differently in the past decade or two. Less murder and more negotiation. It helps that Papa and Sat drop by and visit. Their nagging helps Dad think things through a bit more logically. I… I know that I have blood and dust on my hands… But… Mr. Ink, sir. I… I really, truly love Heelies. He’s the light of my life, and I… I’ve never realized what it was like to be in love until Heelies came crashing into my life. I… I know that I’m not what you’d hope for in a partner for Heelies, but I try to be worthy of him. I… I know that I’ve become a better person, since I’ve gotten to know him.”

Hmmm… Venus had definitely been taught how to persuade others by Nightmare - that same silver tongue… Wait - dad. Papa. Whoever the fuck Sat was. Ink’s eye lights swirl in a chaotic swirl of colors and shapes as something that he’d been just about to connect for a while now finally slid into place “Wait… You’re Nightmare’s child? Not someone who he picked up in a timeline because he found you to be useful?”

“Yes. I’m his oldest child. Saturn is my younger brother… Did you not know that?” Venus responded, a startled frown appearing on their face.

By the creators, that added another layer of twistedness to all of this! It also explained why Dream was so… Strange when it came to Venus. He had a tangled past with Nightmare, and would of course be aware of Venus’s parentage. Why Dream knew so much about Nightmare, the positive guardian never said. But this… Perhaps with Venus’s death, it would give the dark and destructive lord of negativity a bit of pause to grieve, and give him and the other Star Sanses time to breathe and plan how to deal with the other’s charm offensive. “No, I did not. Is Saturn in the castle as well?” Killing both of Nightmare’s children would surely be a benefit to the multiverse - but he’d settle for the one who had stolen his son’s soul for now.

“No, Sat is usually with papa, or hidden away in some timeline that dad and I can’t get to, due to being negative beings. But papa’s gotten better about that as dad’s calmed down and the two of them have started talking instead of just fighting.” Venus responded.

Ink squinted at the other for a moment, before deciding that they were telling him the truth. He knew that Nightmare didn’t lie with every breath, though the creative guardian didn’t trust the bastard at all. He sent the other a warm smile “Well, this has been a very enlightening talk. It’s just… It’s a pity that you are Nightmare’s child, haha. I was almost convinced that you actually love my son. Goodbye.” He struck as confusion filled the younger being, their movements slowed to the point where Ink was able to strike them down.

Venus had managed to dodge just enough to avoid a completely fatal blow, and the other screamed, their magic reverberating around the castle as a wave of pure negativity hit Ink hard, sending the creative guardian staggering backwards and falling to his knees.

Nightmare himself teleported in, confusion and fear on the other’s face at the gaping, paint-splattered wound, hissing as a couple of tentacles wrapped protectively around his child. “Ink-” The other growled, lunging for the creative guardian.

“Pfhaha… Good luck keeping your child from dusting, Nightmare. Perhaps now you will know the pain that you have inflicted on countless others. Ciao~!” Ink purred, a feral grin on his face as he teleported out of the room, reappearing next to Heelies - who was running towards the dying Venus. “Heeelies, my darling son! Time to come home!” Ink ordered, flicking his magic over his son, even as the other tried and failed to dodge, the other’s form losing cohesion as he turned into a purple puddle, the other’s soul floating on top. He scooped the other up and gently put him in a magically protected mason jar. “You be a good boy now and try not to reform. Papa’s got you. I’ll make sure that you’ll be all better. Besides, the wicked creature who stole your heart won’t be distracting you any more. Papa made sure of that.” With that, he teleported out of the AU, dodging several different bone and blaster attacks from Nightmare’s furious lieutenants.

Heelies was safely ensconced in his arms, bubbling and shifting in the jar in great distress, but the other would settle down soon enough. Ink was sure of that “Shhh… It’s okay… Papa’s got you… Shhh… Things will get better, I promise…”

#my writing #ink sans #venus #heelies #nightmare sans #tw attempted murder #tw kidnapping

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yuki-d-raizel-blog · 7 years ago

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Hero

Chapter 18/??

Relationship: Todoroki Shouto x Reader (Your/Name), (Full/Name)

Summit: It all begin at the Sports Festival when Shouto’s other half met Endevour by mistake. The student never thought to see his partner fight against his father just to show him that he is wrong. It started from that instant, Shouto’s new path started exactly from that moment thanks to his friends and his beloved one.

---

After the dinner, Shouto, Midoriya, Ochako and Kirishima are walking to living room again while (Y/N) stayed behind to help her grandfather to clean the kitchen. Near the room they can hear clearly a few voices inside. One is so deep and scary, the other is sly and happy, and another one is softly singing something.

<<Midoriya Izuku. Height, 166 cm. Birthday 7/15. Favorite food, katsudon. Has dark green hair curled to the root, eyes the same color, and some freckles on his cheeks. He is not very good at tying his tie, his body is well trained and has a high pain tolerance.>> that’s the sly voice, <<Quirk, Unknown. Has the strength of countless men… He practically can summon an absolutely stupid amount of power in the twinkling of an eye. However, when he unleashes his strength, somehow, it breaks his bones. Fighting vices: unknown.>>

“How he knows so much about me?” thinks the young boy a little scared, and he proposes to go a bit closer to listen better and see who is inside the room.

<<Kirishima Eijiro. Height, 170cm. Birthday 10/16. Favorite food, meat. Has reddish hair, a little scar on his eye, sharp and shark-like teeth. He often makes his pose, hitting his fists against each other, it’s like his special way of showing his fighting spirit and his fists strangely and somehow make a good and satisfying sound. His body is trained aiming to a good resistance and agility.>> again, why that person knows so much about U.A students? <<Quirk, Dark Hardening. He’s able to make his body harder, and he can maintain it for 10 minutes. Fighting vices: when he turns off his quirk, he need to stop and take a breath, making himself an easy target. He can make his body harder, however if he wants to maintain the hardness to the top, he is unable to move, making him again an easy target. His chin is his weak point.>>

<<He is the kid that lose against the explosive one, right?>> a new voice, this seems depressed? <<And the first one, Izuku was his name? He is the one who broke his bones against the half-half student… His quirk is so similar to (Y/N)’s, am I wrong?>>

<<No.>> is the deep and scary voice, <<(Y/N)’s one is harmful even if she controls it perfectly… Maybe Midoriya-kun has the same type.>> a sigh and he speaks again, <<Anyway, Lenka put down that, if (Y/N) finds us, we are deadly dead.>>

<<Bakugou Katsuki. Height, 172cm. Birthday 20/4. Favorite food, spicy. Has ash blond hair and very spikey. His tolerance level is very small-minded, has a very thick skin and he has a very brawny body even if he looks more slender in his uniform. Quirk, Explosions. With sweat akin to nitroglycerin, he’s able to cause explosions at will from his palms, his ability is undoubtedly boosted by activities that conduce sweating. However, he’s a slow starter in winter and a walking force in summer. The more he sweats, the more the power of his quirk increase. Fighting vices: he has an excellent sense of battle and a sharp instinct, but he’s too short temperate and refuse to collaborate with his teammates.>>

<<What a scary kid…>> whispers the scary voice, but the session is interrupted but the person who was softly singing before, now he’s doing it clearly annoyed.

<<Ah, fucking fuck…! ♩Hello everybody, we’re back in this fucking game! I hate it so much, never beat it, tries for hours and died again! Fucking hell, oh fucking shit, here we go again you bitch!♩ I can’t win this freaking boss!>>

<<What are you doing guys?>> you find the classmates standing in front of the closed door, <<You can go in, you kno->> the girl finds the living room in a mess.

A young man with pale green hair is playing with the PlayStation, a very tall man with dark blues hair is trying to keep the others quiet, a young man with icy hair and eyes, is leg crossed sit in front of the piano, while a pale blond guy, is laid on the sofa holding a notebook.

“My notebook!!” you rush to get it back blushing, but the man jumps up and starts to read again, <<Don’t!>>

<<Let’s see your observations about Todoroki Shouto.>> the man is running all over the room chased by you.

<<I’ll kill you Lenka, don’t you fucking dare!>>

<<Height, 176cm. Birthday 1/11. Favorite food, cold soba.>> the young pale boy is risking his life, but before the girl could caught him, he claims the scary man, and sit on his shoulders, <<Has half white and half red hair, mismatched eyes, a burn on his face, has an impressively toned body for his age and his legs are pretty fast.>>

<<Lenka, I’m not joking, if you stop now and give my notebook back, I will not kill you this instant.>> you can’t do anything to him now, he is too high, you can’t even go near him because the tall man is trying to stop you.

Watching better, Midoriya recognized them, they are the persons that are on (Y/N)’s photo. So, the pale blond guy with a sly voice and was hugging (Y/N) on the picture, is Lenka.

<<Quirk, Fire and Ice. He can make anything that touches his right side freeze over. His left side meanwhile, can blast out scorching hot flames. He has an excellent sense of battle and he is smart, he can think rationally inside the battlefield and never loses his cool.>>

<<Tenka, can you stop your sadistic fucking brother?!>> you shout to the boy who is playing with the console, <<Hello? Earth to Tenka!>>

<<Yeah, yeah. Let me beat the boss first and then I’ll help you.>> he didn’t give you a look.

<<Fighting vices: if he keeps on his freeze power over a long enough stretch, he’ll suffer frostbite himself, so he needs to use the heat of his left side to make his body temperature stable. I wonder what happen if he uses his flames for too long… Oh, what is this?>> Lenka looks better and reads aloud, <<You sign this as a deadly vice. Quite interesting, right (Y/N)?>>

<<This is the last warning, give me that crap back or else... Damn it Shuu, push down that stupid blondie!>>

“So, the pale green boy who was hugging (Y/N) in the picture too, is Tenka and the tall man who was behind the trio is Shuu… The person sit near the piano is the one held by the happy person on the photo…” then Izuku realizes, “Where is the happy person? I don’t see him.”

<<Lenka, you are playing with the hottest fire.>> says the piano guy, <<Don’t upset her. Stop being a kid.>>

<<Come on Joel, you are not curious about (Y/N)’s frie- OW!>> the girl kicked Shuu’s leg bringing him down, and the notebook slides on the floor, <<That’s not fair woman!>> Lenka stands up again and chases the girl to catch the notebook before her, but he fails, so he chooses to fall on her and win with strength, but the girl is a though opponent, <<Quit playing dirty! I was curious about that mortal vice!>>

<<Mind your business blondie!>> she replies stretching her arm to take the notebook outside Lenka’s reach, <<Tenka?!>> the pale green grabs it and reads.

<<Caught ya!!>> the blondie steals your ribbon and runs with his pal.

<<You!>> that ribbon is too important, so you grab their ankles making them fall again, <<Bastards!>> the trio start to argue and fighting like children, they pinch, pull hair and shout against each other, how old are they? Five?

<<Oi….>> behind their back there is something tall… <<We’re not here for this, kids.>> the tall man shows his black circles under his eyes, takes the ribbon and the notebook and gives it to you, <<Here, (Y/N).>>

<<Thanks.>> the man helps you, meanwhile, the classmates are shocked. So much chaos, so quickly… The hell just happened?

<<Oh…>> Shuu grabs Lenka and Tenka’s shirt and pulls them up in front of the U.A students, <<Apologize.>> the two do it immediately because that tone is too scary to deal with, like nope, <<I’m sorry for the mess. I hope you don’t hate (Y/N) now.>>

<<We came here to visit, but when we saw that you brought guests, we decided to come another day, but these stupid wanted to see you at all costs, so…>> Joel walks near you and smiles, <<Sorry, we really mean it.>>

You sigh forgiving them, hide your notebook, fix your hair in a messy chignon, and make everyone take a seat on the sofa, <<Anyway, these are my childhood friends. They are strange but good persons, hope you guys get along with them too.>>

<<Talks the stalke->> you pinch Tenka’s side, making him jump for the pain, <<I forgot how painful are these… I was away for too much time…>> recomposing himself, the guy introduces himself, with the others and all together, bow in front of the students.

The classmates do the same and like nothing happened, everyone starts to chat curious about each other. You go to the kitchen to bring some beverages and snacks, when you feel warm hands on your waist.

<<Your grandpa was right, you lost weight.>> Shouto’s says resting his chin on your shoulder, <<Are you sure you are feeling well? Did we follow Recovery Girl’s instructions correctly, right?>>

<<Don’t worry, dear.>> you caress his hands because you know that he doesn’t like being too much intimate when both aren’t completely alone, <<It always happens when I’m too stressed. The USJ thing, the festival, my grandparents, my childhood friends and now the internship.>>

“She didn’t say anything about my old man… I hope that wasn’t stressful for her.” <<I see. I don’t like seeing you in pain or struggling with something, so if you need help, tell me, ok?>>

The girl doesn’t respond this time, she just smiles and bring the snacks back. Something is tormenting her, but what? Todoroki doesn’t want to force her to talk about it, especially because he remembers (Y/N)’s words, she hates when people do that to her. He would never ever do something that his beloved one hates. He must understand what is tormenting her by himself.

<<So (Y/N), how is your school?>> asks Shuu, <<Do you like it?>>

<<Yes, is interesting.>> you say moving your hands a bit, <<I have All Might as teacher, I was so shocked when I saw him!>> your friends are listening carefully to your words, it seems like they don’t see you for a long time, <<He’s so cute when during a lesson, he pulls out tiny papers where he wrote some advices. He surely is as my mom imagined.>>

The students speak only when they want to say something or agree with you, otherwise, they’re quiet because all of them has this feeling that the last time you saw your friends was long time ago. Suddenly, a knock on the door stops the conversation. Your grandpa walks in frustrated.

<<Sweetie, I’m sorry but…>> he doesn’t want to do what he’s doing, <<Can you come for a bit? They are here and it happened something really bad…>>

As soon the old man finished to say those words, your friends become serious and look at him with fiery gazes. You stay silent for a bit, then sigh and follow him quietly, closing gently the door behind you.

---Continue...

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 21.5, 22, 22.5, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, Last Chapter

#todoroki shouto #shoto todoroki #midoriya izuku #deku midoriya #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha scenarios #scenarios #fanfictions #anime #manga

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