#i had no strong feelings on him in any direction in gen 1 and then he comes back in gen 2 and i go 👀 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

girl-of-many-fandoms · 3 years ago

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Stitches // 17

Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader

Summary: Frank fears he'll become the person he used to be at the end of it all.

Warnings: angst, cursing, mention of blood and broken bones, knife violence

Raise your hand if you're worried about how this is all going to play out 😬🙋🏽‍♀️

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 BONUS

MASTERLIST

—

Y/N’s POV

This can’t be happening

“Is she going to be alright?” Frank squeezed my shoulder as we looked at her through the glass door of the ICU room she’s in. My sweet Amy is hooked up to so many machines, I could barely recognize her.

“She suffered a lot of trauma to her chest cavity and skull. She has two broken ribs and there is minor swelling in her brain from the impact, we’re monitoring that closely for any changes at all. The trauma she experienced to her head has her in a coma and even though we are hopeful that she’d wake up, there is the possibility that she might not.” hot tears flowed from my eyes as I broke down in Frank’s arms; this wasn’t supposed to happen. How could this happen?

“Are we allowed to go in at least?”

“You can.”

“Thank you doc.” Frank tried his best to comfort me, rubbing his hand up and down the length of my back. I could barely breathe from the intensity of my sobs into his chest.

“Sweetheart, it’s going to be alright shhhh, forget what he said, Amy’s strong she’s going to wake up sooner or later.” he kissed my forehead, holding onto me tighter in the process. I heard the familiar sound of Matt’s cane tapping the ground and turned my head in the direction it’s coming from; Matt, Foggy and Karen followed Brett over to us.

“Y/N- Oh God.” Karen gasped and looked away from the room.

“Where is that son of a bitch, Mahoney?” we know Amy was with Jacob and they found her in his car, we have yet to get any word about how he’s doing or if he survived at all. I could feel Frank’s anger radiating off of him, we both need answers as to what went down tonight and he has them.

“We should talk in the room.” pulling away I sucked in a deep breath and waddled into the room with Brett and Frank trailing behind. I pulled the chair closer to her and sat down, gently taking her hand in mine.

“The department got a call from one of the residents in the nearby complex about the car crash and by the time the first responders arrived on the scene they only found Amy pinned in the front seat, the driver was long gone.”

—

Frank’s POV

“You’re telling me that bastard left her there and didn’t bother to call for help.”

I am livid, Jacob better hope that I don’t find him because he’ll wish that he had died behind that wheel when I get my hands on him. She could have died out there tonight and he walks away, fuck that.

“We don’t even know who the driver is-”

“Jacob Whitman, nineteen, about six foot tall, grey eyes, lean built. That’s the asshole that did this to her.” my hands gripped onto the foot of the bed in a death grip, my knuckles turning white as the image of the guy flashed before my eyes.

“Well damn, you wouldn’t happen to know his address also?” reaching forward I held onto her ankle and gently rubbed it; stay strong for me kid.

“No.”

Lie, I knew all there is to know about that prick, his birthday, favourite place to eat, places he frequents, his ailing mother warded at Metro Gen, all of it. Mahoney doesn’t need to know that though at least not until after I have a little chat with him.

“Okay, well at least I have something to start with.” he turned to leave but paused in his tracks.

“I’m sorry this happened, you guys have been through a lot already and I know how much the kid means to you both, especially you Frank. She’ll pull through this.” I nodded silently thanking him and he left. Not two seconds later the trio came in and I straightened up.

“Can you guys stay with Y/N while I go look for this asshole?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Frank..” Y/N called out to me, I know that tone very well. She’s warning me not to go kill the bastard but I'm really not up for taking orders from anyone. Amy’s in a hospital bed with a tube down her throat while that bastard is roaming freely.

“Don’t, sweetheart. You told me to ignore my suspicions and I did, maybe if I had told her not to go with him we wouldn’t be here. You told me to trust her judgement and this is what happened, she’s hooked up to so many damn wires with a machine keeping her alive.” I don’t have it in me to get into an argument with Y/N over this, it’s not her fault that any of this happened.

“You’re blaming me for this?”

“I’m not blaming you, I’m blaming myself.” without another word I stepped out into the hallway with Red hot on my trail.

“Now’s not the time, Red.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“The hell you are.”

“Look, I know you and I have our differences but I know how much Amy means to you both so if I can help, I’ll help.” I gave him a once over and patted him on his shoulder in the process.

“You can help me by staying here with Y/N and the kid.”

—

People really shouldn’t leave their windows unlocked, especially the ones that lead to their fire escapes, you never know who or what can get in.

The sound of running water from the bathroom is the only sound filling this crappy ass apartment that Jacob is holed up in. I quietly manoeuvred further into his place, careful not to knock anything over in doing so.

I could handle this two ways, I can make myself comfortable and wait for him to finish his shower or I can bust in there and beat the shit out of him. Fuck that.

Option two it is.

I kicked the door in and crossed the room to the shower, his eyes looked like they were going to fall out his head, hell I just might knock them out myself.

“No-” my clenched fist connected with his temple, successfully knocking him out with one blow. Before he could drop to the floor I grabbed and dragged him out to his living room, dropping him down onto one of his chairs.

Taking the zip ties I brought with me out of my pocket I secured him to the chair, fighting the urge to gut him right here. I can’t kill him yet, I need to know what really went down in that car tonight; he has the answers and I am more than willing to beat them out of him if I have to.

There’s a gash on his leg, cuts and bruises scattered on his face and chest as well. He’s banged up pretty good, it should’ve been him in the hospital fighting to stay alive instead of her. Soon enough he’s going to wake up and wish that he hadn’t taken her out on that date.

—

Y/N’s POV

“We were doing so good, neither one of us getting into any kind of trouble as we moved forward with being a family. Christ, we’re about to have a little boy of our own and now Amy’s…she’s, God, why?”

I want to scream all my frustrations out and don’t stop until my lungs give out. I brushed my thumb on the back of her hand, forced to listen as the machine breathed for her. Although he said that he blamed himself for her being in this position, I know that there’s also a part of him that blamed me as well. I blame myself for completely letting my guard down, believing that Jacob was nothing more than just a regular guy that liked Amy.

“I’m the one at fault here, I should’ve listened to him in the beginning. If I had-”

“Aye, don’t do that. You couldn’t have known, this is not your fault at all.”

“It sure feels like it.”

—

Frank’s POV

Jacob groaned in pain, slowly waking up from the blow to the head. Dropping the magazine next to the knife on the table I kept my eyes trained on him as he took in his surroundings before landing his gaze on me.

“Morning sunshine, we need to talk.”

“How di-”

“What happened in that car, Jacob?” the muscles in my jaw ticked the longer I looked at the naked son of a bitch who chose to stay quiet. Lightly nodding I picked up the knife and stabbed the tip into the wooden table, twisting it, creating a dent in the tabletop.

“Don’t make me ask the same question twice, it won't end well for you.” he gulped as he looked at the weapon in my grasp.

“None of that was supposed to happen, I swear.” his lips quivered in fear as I rose to my feet.

“I was taking her to the waterfront to see the city lights, Amy was the one that swerved the car.” that made absolutely no sense to me, why would she crash the car if he was innocently taking her there? There’s more to that story.

“Amy wouldn’t have crashed the car unless she had a pretty damned good reason. Why’d she do it?” again, silence.

“Ahhhh!” Jacob’s screams filled the space as I pushed the blade deep into his thigh until it reached the handle, definitely doing some damage to his nerve, I couldn’t care less.

“You’re crazy!”

“Trust me, you don’t want to see how crazy I can be.” winding my hand in the mass of hair that sat on his head I yanked him backwards, forcing him to look up at me.

“You listen to me very carefully, you put my kid in the hospital and I’m ready to send you to the morgue for that but I need to know what happened tonight before I do.” he screamed again as I twisted the knife further.

“A man! That’s what I was taking her there for!”

Now we’re getting somewhere.

“I don’t know who he is or his name, he’s somewhat of a regular at the diner, he always requested that Amy serve him every time he came in. I never questioned why because he tipped her good and we could use all the tips we could get.”

“Description.”

“Caucasion, my height, brown hair, he always wears a suit, mid to late forties.”

Fisk probably has this man on his payroll, wouldn't put it past the bastard to send his men after her.

“During my third week working there he asked me if I wanted to make some extra money on the side and I blindly said yes without knowing what I was getting myself into.” The more he spoke the less I wanted to choke the life out of him. He’s just a kid that got caught up with the wrong people. Releasing him, I sat down in my seat again.

“What’d he offer you?”

“He said he’d pay me to get closer to her and get to know her better and report to him whatever information I got. That was our initial deal, then he called three days ago and said he’d pay me a large sum of money if I brought her to the waterfront this morning at one.”

“How much was my little girl worth asshole?”

“One million and before you say anything know that I couldn’t pass that kind of cash up. I have to take care of my mom and pay for college at the same time.”

Don't kill him Frank, there's a different way to deal with this.

“She told me to take her home and I refused, that’s when she grabbed the wheel and we crashed into a building.”

“And you left her there to die, you didn’t bother to try to get her out of there.”

“She was out cold and trapped. I’m such an idiot, I shouldn’t have gotten into this. I should’ve told him no-” his cries got drowned out by the blaring of his phone ringing on the table, unknown caller ID.

“You’re going to talk and forget that I’m even here. You say anything out of the ordinary I will not hesitate to snap your neck.”

“Okay..” I swiped to answer it and put it on speaker, Jacob swallowed before speaking.

“Hello.”

“What happened, Jacob?” a gruff voice came through the phone, I have never met this person before, his voice is foreign to me.

“There was an accident, she knew something was off.”

“Why didn’t you sedate her like I instructed?”

“I couldn’t.”

“Well now she’s in the hospital fighting to stay alive because of your stupid mistake. You better pray she survives or else I’ll pay dear old mom a visit before I kill you myself.” The call ended and I tossed the phone back on the table, Jacob hyperventilating at the mystery man’s threat.

Threatening the kid is one thing but bringing his sick mother into this only increases my desire to find this asshole.

“Listen kid, that bastard is not going to do anything to your mother alright.”

“You don’t know that Mr. Castiglione.”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, kid. I’ll help you out of this mess but you have to promise me something.” he nodded frantically with his bloodshot eyes glued to my every move.

“I let you live and you walk away from this, all of it. I’ll get to the bottom of this mess and after that I don’t want to see you around, you’re going to leave Amy behind, forget about her completely. I don’t suppose I have to make that any more clearer to you.”

“N-no sir.”

“Good and another thing-” I balled my fist and punched him square in the face, I’m obviously still pissed off at the asshole.

“The next time a lady tells you to take her home, you take her home.” he groaned in pain and I left him there, using his front door this time.

Fucking asshole.

—

By the time I made it back to the hospital, the sun began to make its way into the sky, waking the city in its rise. Y/N fell asleep with her head on Amy’s hospital bed, still holding on to the kid’s hand.

How am I going to tell her someone’s after the kid?

We finally got to a good place, our son could be here any day now and with this, I fear I might slip back into old habits. I can’t do that to my family, I can’t afford to be that person again but I also can’t sit back and wait until Mahoney solves this.

I worked so hard on being a better man for my family and now this shit happens. No matter how many times I try to escape this part of me it always finds a way to rare its ugly head and I fear that it'll end up consuming me in the end.

Christ.

I wanted to kill Jacob, I wanted to watch the life drain out of his eyes as I drove the knife repeatedly into his body but in that moment all I heard was Amy's voice telling me not too. That piece of scum better take my advice and leave or else I'll really kill him for playing with her heart.

“Hey sweetheart.” my lips ghosted her cheek as I gently woke her up, she needs to lie down on a proper bed to sleep otherwise she’s going to have severe back pain later on.

“Frank?” rubbing her eyes, she sat up and released a heavy sigh.

“I should take you home to get some rest, we can come back later to check up on her.” she shook her head no and leaned back into her seat.

“Sweetheart.”

“Did you find him?” her hands rested on her bump as she spoke, averting her eyes from Amy’s unconscious body.

I can either lie and spare her the extra stress or tell the truth and have to restrain her from going out there to find this man herself. Come on Castle, make a decision.

“Frank?”

“No, he was long gone by the time I got to his place."

I feel bad for lying to her but it's for her own good, at least that's what I'm telling myself.

----

MARVEL Taglist:

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make-me-imagine · 4 years ago

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Mystery Prompts: Category 1: 23, M. Category 2: D, 98. Fandom: X-men. Character: Wolverine. Prompt List D. Sensory Prompt: ‘Warm water rushing over your body’. (Did not use genre pick for this one).

Premise: After a rather intense and exhausting day, the reader opens up to Logan a little bit, before breaking down when alone. The next day, he finally admits why he cares so much.

Requested by: @destynelseclipsa (this was the first option you sent in)

Pairing: Logan/Wolverine x Gen!Neutral Reader

Triggers: Very brief mentions of fighting, as well as mentions of emotional exhaustion, and hatred (towards mutants in this case), and crying. (I swear it has a happy ending)

Words: 2.5k

Marvel Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney, @thebookbakery, @groovyfluxie, @marvelouslyme96, @supersourlemon13

Note: This started out as a simple short oneshot and then it just kept going lmao

You sighed as you finally walked back into the mansion, slightly slumped over in exhaustion as you dragged your feet underneath you. Professor X, Scott, and Jean in front of you, Storm and Logan on either side of you. They all got off pretty easily, being able to fight at a distance, besides Logan, who just healed quickly no matter what happened, but you could tell he was pretty tired as well.

Your mutations were rather simple, heightened senses, strength and agility and you could emit a form of energetic pulse from your hands when in contact with something or someone. You had to fight in close combat, so you got a lot of the brunt force of the enemies you had fought. A group of anti-mutant terrorists who would hunt your kind down. There was a higher power behind them, and none of you knew who it was.

Entering into the main room of the mansion, the others all followed Professor X into his office, you turned to do the same, but stopped when you heard his voice in your head.

“Go relax Y/n, I know you are quite exhausted after what happened, there is no need for you to stay up any longer.”

You must be exhausted if you had let down your guard, your strong mental wall collapsed enough for him to so easily connect with you. Giving him a silent thank you, you turned and headed for the stairs, feeling a presence behind you, you looked back to see Logan following close.

“Did he send you to bed like a child as well?” you asked. There was no malicious intention in your voice, but the Professor had a knack at treating you like one of his students, not that you minded in most cases.

He smiled “Not in so many words.”

You continued up the stairs, highly aware of his eyes burning into the back of your head. As you made it to your floor, you continued toward your room before you stopped and turned around. Seeing Logan still behind you.

“Is there a reason you’re following me to my room?” you asked with a questionable gaze at him.

“The professor didn’t send me to bed so much as he sent me to check on you.”

You let out a soft laugh before turning back to your room and going inside, Logan entering after you.

During the fight, there was a particularly hostile man, who seemed to be in charge. He cornered you in a room and used some fairly violent anti-mutant weapons they had apparently developed. It took a lot of your strength but you were able to fight him off. But more than that, it was also exhausting on your emotions. You were also an empath. You could feel his pure rage and hatred for you, it was too strong to ignore. Once you got away from him, the Professor must have sensed the stress on you. It was rare that you felt someone with so strong of emotions, especially such violent ones.

“Why did he send you?” you asked as you sat on the edge of your bed, slipping off your shoes before peering up at him, as he leaned against the wall, watching you closely.

He stared at you for a second, as if he was debating something before he shrugged “Who knows?” you couldn’t ignore the pang of disappointment as he said this “So, tell me, why’s the professor so concerned?”

You sighed as you stared down at the floor, your emotions returning as you thought of what happened, the mans taunting words and harsh emotions flowing through you again.

“You don’t deserve to exist in this world. You’re a monster, and monsters needs to be destroyed.”

Logan straightened up slightly “What?”

“That’s what the man said” you said as you stood up “And, I’ve....never, felt that sort of intense hatred from one single person before. With other people, non-mutants, I’ve felt fear, confusion, pity, excitement, and hate, but not that...pure. And as an empath, it’s exhausting” you finished simply before adding “I’m sure the professor could feel it, that’s why he wanted you to check on me.” you began to walk past him “You can tell him I’ll be fine, I’m going to take a shower. Goodnight Logan.” you said before walking into your bathroom and closing the door.

You leaned against the bathroom door, a few moments passed and your heart was pounding as you felt Logan’s presence on the other side of the door, before you heard him step away and leave your room. You let out a sigh as you undressed and got into the shower. As the warm water rushed over your body, you felt your body relax under the heat as you stood still, drenching yourself. You stared down at the shower drain as you saw dirt and grime wash off your body. Your mind played back on the man again.

Why does he hate us so much? Did a mutant hurt him in the past? Something had to happened to make him feel such pure hatred. Or is it just natural? Can someone be born with that much hate in them?

In some sense you wanted to understand, but, at the same time you didn’t. If you understood, then you might be able to feel that kind of hatred. And you never want to hate someone that much. But it wasn’t just hatred. It was disgust.

Your mind wandered to Logan. Why would the Professor send him? Did he know how you felt toward Logan? Did he think you would open up to him, more than the others.

Logan had been at the school for a few years now, and you got along well enough, but hardly spent a lot of time alone. But you couldn’t help but admire his strength, his instincts, and though he tries to hide it, his kindness. But he loves Jean. There was a time, when you could no longer handle not knowing, so you used your power on him, and felt a strong emotion of love. And when you felt it emanating off of him, it was when he was looking at her. That should have been enough to stop you from feeling something, but it didn’t. But you did stop using your powers around him. You didn’t want to feel that sort of overwhelming disappointment again.

Being reminded of that pain, and that love he felt for someone else, and then the hatred and disgust you felt today aimed at you and your kind. You thoughts going back to the hatred of others you’ve endured for years. You couldn’t help the sob that suddenly escaped your mouth as you brought your hand to your mouth. You tried to shut off the emotions, turn them off, but you were so exhausted, losing control of your powers. So as the tears came, you let the warm water wash them away.

- - -

The next morning as you walked down the stairs, kids running around the mansion to get to their first classes, you felt slightly sore, but otherwise alright. Approaching the Professors office, you knocked as you walked in, the door already open.

The Professor looked up at you with a smile “Good morning Y/n, how are you feeling today?”

You closed the door behind you before approaching his desk “Better.” you said with a soft smile “But I had a question.”

“What would that be?”

“Why did you send Logan to check on me?”

The Professor stared at your for a moment, and you could tell he was repressing a smile “I did not send Logan.”

You stared at him for a moment “Then why did he follow me to my room last night, and say that you did?”

“Well. I would suppose, to save himself from the embarrassment he might feel if you knew he wanted to check on you of his own will.”

“Why would he be embarrassed, we’re friends, he could have just asked.” you said, still not understanding.

The Professor shrugged his shoulders before he smiled “Perhaps that is a question you should ask him.”

After leaving his office, you continued on with your day, not seeing Logan at all except in passing. You weren’t sure why, but you had avoided him throughout the day. Maybe because you wanted to avoid a conversation that would include “You’re my friend and I wanted to see if you were alright”, because, though you were happy being friends with him, you couldn’t help but want more.

You sat on a bench in the garden, the kids all inside for the evening. You stared at the leaves blowing the trees, lost in thought.

“Hey.” a voice said suddenly, as a hand was placed on your shoulder.

You gasped and jumped at the sudden intrusion before looking back at who it was, seeing Logan looking at your with a look of confusion and amusement. “Logan” you breathed out before shaking your head at your own reaction.

“I was calling your name but you didn’t hear me” he said as he rounded the bench and sat next to you.

“Sorry, just distracted.” you said plainly, ignoring the heavy beating of your heart as you wondered why he was sitting so close.

“How are you feeling today?”

You eyed him “Did the Professor send you again?” you asked, a hint of sarcasm in your voice.

He met your eyes for a moment before turning away “No. And-” he cleared his throat “He didn’t send me last night either. “

“I know.” you said simply as his head snapped back in your direction.

“You know?”

You nodded “I talked to the professor this morning.”

“Ah” he said simply “So? Are you going to answer my question?” he asked, changing the subject.

You smiles softly “I’m alright Logan.”

He stared at you, you were smiling, and your voice was so soft, but, there was hardly any emotion in your eyes. The familiar brightness that usually shone in your eyes was faded. You were always full of so much emotion.

“Why don’t I believe you?”

You realized how serious he looked. Was he worried? You opened your mouth to speak, but closed it shortly after, looking straight ahead again “I’m okay.” you said, as if trying to convince yourself “Just tired. Sometimes feeling everything all the time is exhausting to the point where, there is a short time where I don’t feel much of anything at all.” you admitted, you turned to look at him again and smiled “It’ll pass, it always does.”

He stared at your for a moment “I hope so. I hate seeing you suffering more than others. You don’t deserve it.”

“Are you saying that others deserve it?” you countered.

He smiled “No. I would just prefer if it wasn’t you. You take on more than others without trying.”

“You’re kind Logan” you said, “Even if you pretend you’re not.”

He let out a soft laugh as he shook his head “Only to you.”

“And to Jean” you hesitated for a second “And Storm” you quickly added on, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“Well, I like them. But, I’m nice to them, not kind. You’re the one who insists there is a difference between them.”

“You’re kind to Jean” you finally said, tired of him refusing to admit his feelings, you looked at him “I know how you feel about her.”

Logan stared at you, his brow furrowed as you continued “I don’t feel anything for her.”

You scoffed “Of please Logan, I felt it. I get why you deny it, I mean she’s with Scott, but, you...can tell me, I don’t mind. It’s hard to keep that kind of thing to yourself.”

“What exactly did you feel?”

You met his eyes, your heart beating quickly, as the reminder of the pain and disappointment you felt showed itself again “Love. When you looked at her.”

He sat forward with a sight “When did you feel it?”

“It was a while ago, maybe a year or so I guess.”

He laughed “Do it again.”

“What?”

“Use your power. Feel what I’m feeling now.”

“That- that, won’t work, she’s not here, so if you’re trying to prove something-.”

“Just do it.”

You stared at him for a moment, seeing how seriously he looked. You let out a breath as you relaxed and expanded your power encasing him as you felt his emotion. He was feeling, nervous, but calm at the same time, a hint of what you recognize as fondness, but there was something deeper, something he was repressing, it was strong.

“You feel that?”

“I don’t feel anything, not really, not on the surface at least..”

“Exactly. I’m thinking about Jean right now.” He leaned forward a bit as he stared into your eyes “Now what do you feel.”

As he stared at you, you felt his emotions change rapidly, as that deep emotion became obvious. He was more nervous, almost scared, a bit excited, but the main emotion you could feel pulsing from him was familiar, the same emotion you felt before, when he was looking at her. But it seemed stronger this time. More prominent.

“Love.” you said quietly.

A small smile formed on his face “That’s because I’m thinking of you.”

Your heart seemed to stop for a moment in your chest as you looked at him “I came to check on you last night because I could tell you were hurting. I wanted to stay, to, help you, but you didn’t want me too. And now I get that it’s because you thought I loved Jean. And I did. But not for a long time. Not since I got to know you. You are the one person I care most about in this place, and the last person I want to see hurting. “

As you stared at him, still feeling the heavy emotions coming from him, now pairing with your own, you felt a tear escape the side of your eye. Logan, seeing it, smiled lightly. He knew what using your powers could do, it made you feel everything so strongly, and he had known that you felt something for him for a while.

Reaching out, he wiped the tear away with his thumb, then placed his hand across your cheek “You can turn it off now.”

You stared at him for a second, taking in the gentleness of his touch, and the way he was staring at you “I don’t want to.” you said quietly, almost in a whisper.

He smiled at you “Alright” he said before he leaned forward, bringing you into a deep kiss. For a second, you felt a strong burst of emotion from the both of you, before it was silenced, your power turned off as you relaxed and melted into the kiss.

As the strong emotions faded away, Logan pulled away from you as he looked into your eyes “That feeling won’t go away if you stop searching for it, it won’t fade, I promise.”

Unsure of what to say, you simply smiled at him, and his heart seemed to swell as he could once again see the bright emotion in your eyes again, no longer hidden behind a vale of exhaustion and pain as he leaned in for another kiss. The second of many more.

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chockfullofsecrets · 3 years ago

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D20 Fantasy High: Making Room

(Read on AO3)

Rating: Gen

Summary: She grunts, presumably shoving at him and not having much success given Fabian’s triumphant snickering. “I said make room-”

Riz pries himself up off the carpet, thinking of moving to help her, when Fabian lets out a startled squeak. Everyone goes quiet.

Fig leans off the bed with truly devilish glee in her tiefling eyes. “Guys, he’s ticklish.”

The Bad Kids try to plan a sleepover, Fabian needs to learn how to share, and Riz is maybe starting to get the hang of this whole friendship thing.

Wordcount: 2.1k

A/N: not to be entirely into D&D on main, but - hey, look, it’s another cool D&D campaign XD shoutout to @hypahticklish for expressing enough interest in this fic to make me want to write it <3

Loose spoilers for the end of Fantasy High Season 1, beware!

---

Riz thinks he’s really starting to get a handle on this whole friendship thing.

Solving a mystery and getting thrown in jail and killing a dragon together aren’t exactly reproducible results, which kind of sucks, but - hey, the six of them are friends now, and they’re hanging out in Fabian’s room on a summer evening, and it’s novel enough to feel like a solved case all on its own.

What’s less satisfying is the amount of missed work they have to catch up on if they want to start as sophomores next year; no one bothered to worry about bringing them homework while they were in actual prison, but all their professors sure seem to care about it now. He gets the feeling that at least part of it is Aguefort trying to keep some degree of respectability after everything that happened with Goldenhoard, but any attempt to reason with him thus far has gotten nowhere but wild-eyed stares and increasingly obtuse lectures on chronomancy and time management. And sure, Riz prides himself on being able to untangle obscure information, but he’s not touching that with a ten foot pole.

They’re all sprawled out on Fabian’s floor, working through assignments with varying levels of fervor ranging from Adaine - actually working with a stack of textbooks nearly up to her shoulder next to her on Fabian’s desk - to Kristen - texting Tracker with a lack of stealth that makes Riz want to grind his teeth a little, even more so than the way she goes bright red and giggles every time her crystal pings - when Fig groans and rolls onto her back.

“You know what?” she says to the room at large, throwing her arms wide. Her hand knocks into her bard notebook, somehow both dusty with disuse and covered in scribbled ballpoint pen sigils. She flips it neatly in the air and elbows it away in Adaine’s direction, earning a half-annoyed yelp. “We should have a sleepover.”

Half of them blink uncomprehendingly, but Kristen drops her crystal in a sudden rush of excitement. “YES,” she shouts. Gorgug, propped against the wall next to her and dozing off over barbarian meditation manuals, startles. “I can show you guys so many cool camp things! We just need a bunch of different colors of yarn and some sticks and - yeah, we can probably skip the holy water to keep the sinners away-”

Riz has - he’s had sleepovers before, if Penny coming over to babysit and finding him crashed out on the couch after a night of reading old case files from his mom counts. He reaches up and straightens his cap, trying to make it look smooth. “Hey, Fabian, do you have coffee here?”

“Wait, wait, hold on a minute.” Fabian, sitting against his giant bed, waves dramatically for all their attention. He looks them over once he gets it, self-importantly adjusting his eyepatch. “Yes, The Ball, we have coffee, we’re not peasants - but sleep over where? Did I miss that part?”

“Uh, here?” Fig says, flinging herself upright. “You’re mom’s super hot - uh, cool, I bet she’d let us do anything.”

“Stop calling my mom hot!” Fabian yelps, glowering for a moment before his chest puffs with familial pride. “Well, we do have at least five guest bedrooms that we could house all of you in-”

“Oh, I don’t need a bed,” Gorgug says hastily. “I’d probably break it, I can just sleep on the floor.”

“Yeah, Fabian, no,” Kristen interjects, gesturing with her staff. Gorgug scrambles to remove the cups they’ve been drinking soda out of from her path. “We’re all supposed to hang out in the same room, that’s kind of the point!” She frowns a little, zeroing in on him. “Have you. Have you never been to a sleepover before?”

Riz hasn’t quite gotten around to making a conspiracy board of how all the specific issues of their messed up childhoods overlap, but he can read the way Fabian startles indignantly loud and clear. “Of - of course I have!” he blusters. “I just - why the fuck would you share a bed if you didn’t have to?”

Adaine scoffs. “Fabian, your bed is enormous, I think we could all fit on it with room for the Hangman left over.”

“No, it’s not!” Fabian scrambles up, chin still raised haughtily, and throws himself bodily on the bed - judging from the way his ankles hang off the edge, he’s starfishing out as far as he possibly can. “I’m - see, I’m a growing boy, I need my space! Cathilda says so.”

Adaine, having claimed the only chair in the room and therefore being the only one at eye level with the mattress, cranes her neck and laughs. “Fabian, you’re covering less than half of the bed. You can just say you’ve never been to a sleepover before, you know.”

Fig stands up and launches herself onto the bed too, landing heavily with the zippers on her leather jacket clanking behind her. “Yeah, you just have to - oof - make room-”

She grunts, presumably shoving at him and not having much success given Fabian’s triumphant snickering. “I said make room-”

Riz pries himself up off the carpet, thinking of moving to help her, when Fabian lets out a startled squeak. Everyone goes quiet.

Fig leans off the bed with truly devilish glee in her tiefling eyes. “Guys, he’s ticklish.”

The room erupts into chaos - Fabian shouting denials, Fig cackling evilly, and Kristen shooting up and banging her shins against the bed before scrambling around to Fabian’s other side. Riz hops up on the desk next to Adaine just in time to watch each of the other girls seize his outstretched arms and start to mercilessly tickle his armpits.

“GAHAHA - no, no, stoHOP-” Fabian flails helplessly between the two of them, still trying to sprawl out over the bed. He manages to wrench his arm free from Fig and shove her away even as he shouts with laughter. “Seacasters are not - ahaaa, haaAA - I’m not ticklish!”

“Oh, yeah?” Kristen taunts. “Then why are you laughing, you - ohshit-”

They’re trying to wrestle him down, but he’s too strong for Fig and too dextrous for Kristen. She lunges for him, red hair flying behind her, and falls straight into his lap.

Fabian catches both of Fig’s wrists in one big hand and uses the other to poke triumphantly at Kristen’s belly, sending her into a fit of cackling giggles. “Aha!” he exclaims triumphantly, struggling into a sitting position. “A Seacaster cannot simply be rousted from his territory!”

All of them know better than to say anything about his dad by now. “Gorgug, come help us hold him down!” Fig demands instead, kicking at Fabian with her platform boots and making him yelp in pain.

Gorgug pulls his headphones all the way off his ears and straightens just enough to take in the tangle of the three of them, looking dubious. “Are you sure? That sounds kind of mean.”

“It’s not a problem if he’s not ticklish, right, Fabian?,” Fig retorts. “And he’s breaking sleepover code by hogging the bed!"

Kristen, still laughing uproariously as she fails to save herself from Fabian’s tickling fingers, somehow manages to shoot Gorgug a pair of finger guns. “Get him, Gorgug!”

Gorgug still looks a little confused - Riz can relate - but he gamely climbs to his feet. “Well, okay.”

He pauses to knock gently on the bedframe, sighing in relief at the heavy thunk that echoes back. “Oh, cool, that’s pretty strong.”

Fig yelps as Fabian lets up on Kristen and starts prodding at her belly instead. “Gorgug, come on!”

“Oh, right,” Gorgug says, and sends the mattress an entire inch to the left as he scrambles on.

“Hell yeah!” Fig cheers as Gorgug climbs on the bed and sweeps Fabian up in a restraining hug. “Sig Figs solidarity!”

Kristen squirms out from between the three of them. “Hey, I’m here too!”

She flops down with a breathy sigh and hugs herself, grinning widely as she catches sight of the identical what-the-fuck expressions that Riz is pretty sure he and Adaine are wearing. “Ugh, I haven’t been tickled in forever.”

Adaine makes a considering sound as Kristen twists back to the battle royale happening behind her. Riz looks over at her, catches one of her ears twitching under the attention before she looks back. “I don’t think I’ve ever been tickled,” she murmurs, a little shy.

Penny’s tickled him before, and maybe his mom when he was little, but yeah, it’s been a while. He shrugs. “You think you’d like it?”

There’s another cry from the bed, and both of them whip around to look. Fig’s looming over a thoroughly trapped Fabian now - just barely, even with her horns - and wriggling her fingers evilly with gleaming eyes. “Are you going to say you’re sorry for breaking sleepover code?”

“There’s - there’s no sleepover code,” Fabian sputters, but he’s grinning sheepishly even as he squirms against Gorgug’s hold. “Gorgug, man, come on, you can’t just betray a fellow member of the Bloodrush team like this!”

“Oh - uh -” Gorgug looks pleadingly at the both of them. “But I’m in the Sig Figs too - does that mean one of you guys is going to be mad at me?”

Fabian barely blinks. “Yes.”

“YES,” says Fig, even louder.

“Oh, come on, you two.” Kristen sits up between Fig and Fabian, poking at both of their sides and cutting their protests off as they suck their lower lips between their teeth with identical wide-eyed looks. Then, with a curious tilt to her head, she reaches around to tickle Gorgug’s side too, grinning as he squeaks. “There are no sides in a tickle fight, everyone knows this.”

Riz forgets that Kristen has three little brothers, sometimes. It’s easy to, until she starts playing peacekeeper between the rest of them.

“Where are all these rules coming from?” Fabian questions indignantly. Adaine makes a sound of agreement next to Riz - is she writing these down?

Oh, who’s he kidding, he’s probably going to ask her for a copy afterwards.

Fig smirks. “Well, I think the person with their hands free should get to enforce the rules. Like so.” She reaches for the thin tank top Fabian’s wearing and scribbles her fingers over his belly, crowing in delight as he shrieks. “Not ticklish, huh? Who’s ticklish now, bitch?”

“You - ahaha, haaa, fuck - anyone’s ticklish when they’re being restrained!” Fabian insists through panicked laughter, wriggling for all he’s worth. Riz squints - maybe it’s just the rogue homework he’s been doing lately, but it looks like Gorgug’s not even holding him that tight.

He shrieks again as Kristen bounces excitedly and reaches for him too. “Nonono, NOHOHO - Kristen, ahaha! You said - eheheee, stop - you said no sihihides!”

“These are your hips, Fabian. And no sides doesn’t mean you can’t gang up on people,” Kristen sticks her tongue out in concentration, squeezing at one of his hips and then the other. “Hey, say you’re ticklish.”

“What? No - hahaha - shit, shiHIHIT-” Fabian starts to really thrash under their teasing - Riz catches him elbowing Gorgug neatly in the gut, but their barbarian absorbs the blow like it’s nothing. Riz tries not to feel jealous and doesn’t entirely succeed.

Kristen smiles beatifically from cheek to freckled cheek. “The truth’ll set you free, brother.”

Fabian shakes his head frantically, catching sight of Riz and Adaine by his desk through teary eyes. “The Ball - The Ball, help me, this isn’t - ahahaha, nonoplease - it’s not fair!” he pleads through the widest smile Riz has seen on him so far, which is saying something. “Don’t you care about justice?”

Fig looks over at them too, now, hair slipping from her braid and fangs on full display as she beams. “Yeah, you two, get over here or you’re next! You’re missing out on the sleepover fun!”

“Oh,” Adaine says uncertainly. “I didn’t know this was part of it.”

She looks over at Riz - not that he knows any better, but he’s absolutely not going to cop to it. “Oh, yeah, tickle fights,” he blusters. “Definitely part of sleepovers. To, uh, tire everyone out.”

Adaine looks out of the window at blue skies just barely starting to blush pink and gets a small, quiet grin on her face that he can’t help but return. “Oh, okay,” she says. “Riz, are you ticklish?”

Oh. Oh, no.

Riz stiffens. It doesn’t seem like anyone else has heard Adaine’s question, maybe he can get under the bed before any of them notice -

He. He could, is the thing, he’s an awesome rogue, but - out here seems pretty fun too. “That’s more of a hands-on investigation thing,” he shoots back, and leaps for the bed before she can catch hold of him.

He is, after all, an investigator first and foremost, and there’s more room to be made on that mattress.

#tickling #dimension 20 #fantasy high #riz gukgak #fabian seacaster #figueroth faeth #kristen applebees #adaine abernant #gorgug thistlespring #chocfic #i really don't know why i decided to start with writing all six of them but uhhhh i hope the characterization is okay?

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yuziyuanapologist · 4 years ago

Note

Idea for writing about Wen Ning: so when he was a kid and got his spirit (half??) taken, he must have woken up later, right?? What if you write about him waking up (presumably??) in Wen Qing's arms! OH and then in the burial mounds when he wakes up in Wen Qing's arms AGAIN. anyway that could be neat

anon you are a GENIUS! so i didn’t write this exact thing but its pretty close, ya got my lil brain whirring, so this is 4 times wen ning woke up with his sister by his side (and 1...uh).

1.8k words, gen, wen ning & wen qing. wei wuxian is there too i guess. content warnings for canon character deaths and sadness, we all know what we’re doing here by now. enjoy!

[AO3 link!]

Wen Ning is four years old, and when he wakes up, half his limbs are missing.

No - no, that can’t be right. He has two arms. Two legs. Four fingers and one thumb on his left hand, same again on his right. He’s wearing socks, but he can feel all ten of his toes wiggling.

No, he’s all here. Look, look, his body looks the same as normal.

Jiejie is asleep next to him, positioned as if she’d been kneeling at the side of the bed and fallen asleep when the hour had become too late - she never stays up too late, not like Wen Ning, who makes it a competition with himself of just how long he can keep his eyes open after the lights have gone out.

“Jiejie,” he tries - and - oh, maybe it’s his voice that’s missing? There was barely a sound to be heard just then, was there? He tries again - “J-ie -” he coughs, and the croak that he had been producing gives way to his voice once again. “Jie,” he says, and lifts one of his definitely-there hands to prod at her shoulder.

She stirs with a tremble. “A-Ning,” she gasps, looking at him with wide eyes.

Oh - maybe - maybe his eyes? Nose? Ears? Are they missing?

But he lifts a hand to each of them in turn, and finds them all intact - besides, he can sense just as normal, he can hear her voice and her worried gasps, he can smell the incense burning over on the table, and the herbs infused in the bowl of water now cold beside his bed. He can see his home, his room, everything as it should be in the early dawn light.

Then what is it that he’s missing? Perhaps - his hair? He lifts his hands to feel at the top of his head, to trace the strands down - but they go as far down as they ever have - farther, perhaps?

“Jie,” he can speak - but he doesn’t really remember how. “Jie,” his lower lip trembles and he reaches out helplessly.

Jiejie lets all her breath out in a rush, and scrambles forward, kneeling on the bed and pulling Wen Ning’s weak body up into her arms, squeezing him tight tight tight and making him the safest he’s ever been, always safe when Jiejie is here.

Safe, safe, he’s safe. He’s somehow not whole, but he’s safe.

He wasn’t supposed to come find Jiejie.

Well - he’s never supposed to come find Jiejie, because Zongzhu wants him to be independent, and Er-gongzi wants him to leave her alone because she’s doing important work for the Clan, and it’s all bigger than him and he’s in the way and he’s just a stupid kid with no sense and half a soul who’ll only ever be a weak cultivator, and he’ll only ever cause trouble.

So he was supposed to take the punishment, and stay in his room with sore red hands and not take anything for them, because that’s what happens when he interrupts, but it hurt and there was no one stopping him and -

Jiejie had snapped at him, of course. She always does, at first, and then she softens without showing it, and pretends to be stern when she fixes all his hurts.

And then she said - “A-Ning, have you been sleeping?” and he had looked down and away because Er-gongzi is fifteen and he thinks it’s funny when there are scorpions in Wen Ning’s bedchambers and Wen Ning isn’t allowed to tell anyone and he isn’t allowed to sleep anywhere else either.

And so Jiejie grabbed his hand tight - too tight, but caringly so - and pushes him towards her own bed, and tells him if he doesn’t lie down she’ll send him back to Dafan Mountain, so help her.

Now - he wakes up, blinking finally well-rested eyes, and she sits at the small table in the room, smiling soft relief that she hasn’t yet trained into sternness.

But despite the gentle nature of her expression, one hand rests against the table, tapping a silver needle against the wood - menacing, but not directed at him.

“While you slept,” she says, the softness already fading into malice. “I perfected an old technique that I’ve been working on.”

Tap, tap, tap.

“Er-gongzi won’t dare to disturb your sleep any longer.”

“A-Ning?”

At first - he is convinced that it must be a dream. “Jie,” he murmurs - more to silence the voices in his head than anything. They’ve been ringing for days - screaming, even - noises he can’t describe - some he can, the clunk of metal on metal - the breaking of bones - his own? - and knuckles hitting flesh over and over - blood rushing in his ears - pain - is that a sound, now?

He has been on his own in this cell for a while.

“A-Ning,” she’s more urgent now - breathless and scrambling towards him - oh, oh, it’s real, she’s here. She’s here. “Are you - are you alright?”

“Jie,” he smiles it around all the blood in his mouth. “I didn’t tell them anything.”

She doesn’t reply, her hands moving up to his face - she must be assessing all the damage done, all the blood he knows is still uncleaned. She’s seconds from tears - and pulls him forward, his head down onto her shoulder, holding on tight and stroking her thumb against his hair.

Like this - he relaxes, sighs out all his worry against her tattered robes, and lets himself be held. The comfort she brings is still strong despite the fact that she gives it with a shake to her arms and voice and breath now. Wen Ning turns his head further into her arm, and inhales - exhales - inhales -

“Is - is Wei-gongzi okay?” he has to ask. “And Jiang-gongzi? Did it - did it work?”

She doesn’t reply, but holds. Her thumb still stroking that gentle soothing motion against his hair, and perhaps the sign she is trying to give is for him to stay quiet for fear of who might hear, or for the sake of their peace in not thinking of it, but he has to know.

“Jie -”

“Fine,” she almost snaps it, but her voice is still soft and worn thin. “Both - fine.”

He could believe her. He wants to, and she doesn’t - wouldn’t lie, to him. But then - she - perhaps she doesn’t even - doesn’t even know for certain. At least she’s here. At least she’s here to give him tentative comfort, to pretend that he’ll be all right, that they both will.

“Jie,” he speaks again, through his own doubt. “D-do you regret - it?” He asks, wishing he could stop his voice from shaking. But through cold, through habit, through fear, he cannot.

He finds no surprise in the responding silence.

To wake up feeling as though he is without half his limbs twice in a single lifetime must be improbable.

Ah - no, that is not the whole truth to it -

His body comes into consciousness from the ground up - he’s already standing, wrapped around with heavy cloth, heavier than his body -

No, it is his body that he feels wrapped around him, skin wrapped around his bones like it doesn’t belong there, responding to his commands but as a dog to a master, not as flesh to mind.

Half of his limbs are not missing - nor were they last time - this is something else. Still, he counts.

Two arms, two legs. Four fingers, one thumb on his left hand. The same on his right. He is wearing shoes, but he can feel his toes wi- no, not wiggling, but at least responding. He blinks his eyes once - yes, he has them.

Ears - he can hear - he can hear everything - the holding of breaths, five heartbeats surrounding - and the crickets - and the grass rustling -

“A-Ning!”

Jiejie. She’s she’s - where is she? He can hear her - he needs her - Jiejie -

But the sound falls back to quiet, with the utterance of “Wen-guniang -” A warning. They’re warning her that -

What? What part of him is missing? He tries again - limbs, he knows. Eyes, too, and his hair - he can see his hair in front of his eyes. Then - nose? - yes, he does have it - but it’s - the air that rushes through it - it’s hollow. Unnecessary.

Mouth. Voice. He raises his head, and says the name of the first face he sees..

“Gon- Gong- zi -” he forces out. “Wei-gongzi.”

Wei-gongzi rushes towards him, hesitant as he reaches forward. “Wen Ning,” he says, a hand out to his shoulder, almost excited, almost happy - but not yet.

Then - a voice behind him.

“A-Ning.” It comes out as a breath, relieved and fearful all at once.

He turns slow - can’t seem to force himself to move any faster, try as he might, but he forces the movement of a neck that feels like it’s been frozen in place for - for - well it must be a while - and finally sees her.

“Jie.” He can’t get it to sound like how he wants it too. He can’t put all of the joy into it, not like normal. His body is frozen and stiffened and half missing and stuck, and he just wants to look at his sister because she’s here, she’s here, she’s telling him she’s here.

“It’s me, A-Ning, it’s your Jiejie,” she’s weeping as she strokes his cheek, her breathing heavy and gasping, and she pulls him forward - he can’t force his limbs to catch up, but he’s held.

He’s held, and, despite all that's missing, he’s safe.

He wakes screaming.

It’s the worst pain he’s ever felt - worse than - worse than anything, and it’s never ending, the back of his head being pulled open, the back of his mind slit, and poison pouring directly in through the metal.

But it’s poison that he’s come to need, and the taking of it hurts. The further back it's pulled, the more awareness he has of his body - he’s standing, out in the street -

It hurts -

And it’s raining -

The metal nails are scraping through him, ripping against bone and tearing through his scalp -

There are chains wrapped around his body, less him than the skin that wraps around his bones, and yet at the same level of his control. He is no more or less than he was before, but he is different -

He feels the metal leave his body, the nails pulled out of his skull. The blood still drips, his hair sticky with it, but he is freed from the poison's hand, he is in his own body and his own skin and his own chains -

And he is screaming in pain.

There is a hand on his shoulder, and the scream fades. A gentle hand, comforting, but -

With consciousness comes memory. The worst pain he’s ever felt becomes meaningless.

“Wen Ning,” Wei-gongzi is gentle. “Are you alright?”

Wen Ning wants to tell him what he had told him all those years ago. I feel - like I want to cry, but I can’t.

But - when he had said it back then - Jiejie had been there to hold on to him.

And now -

He is missing half his limbs.

#thank u lovely anon!!!#wen ning #the untamed #the untamed fic #anonymous #ask #fic*#mine #mdzsnet

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thatmultifandomhoe · 4 years ago

Text

Knitting You a Home - 2

Pairing: Wolf Hybrid Namjoon and Human Reader

Word Count: 3k

Genre/Rating: Hybrid AU - Established Relationship - Angst - Fluff - Smut - PG-13

Overview: Things have changed for you and Namjoon. It’s been a year since the two of you got together, and despite a rocky start, it was impossible to deny the bond and love you shared for each other. But ever since Hoseok had been separated from his Mate, Namjoon has been withdrawing himself from you and doesn’t come home until late at night.

With questions far larger than either of you imagined, you can’t help but wonder if he’s let his past and old fears come back to haunt him. You had shown him that it was possible to have a home and be loved once before, but will you be able to do it again?

Warning: None.

Playlist:

Main Master List:

Knitting You a Home Master List:

Mated Love is Never Easy Master List:

Sneak Peak - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - ?

©thatmultifandomhoe Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

June 2019

The ringing of the overhead bell captured your attention, whisking you out of your memories. With a forced smile, you looked up from where you pricing the bamboo knitting needles to greet the customers.

You recognized the two women as regulars who frequently came to your shop for supplies or to add to their yarn addiction. “Hi Carol, hey Tammy, how are you ladies today?”

“Doing fine,” Tammy answered. Carol disappeared to the back of the store where the larger displays of yarn were kept. Yup. Adding to their yarn addiction was on the menu for them today. “Is your grandmother here?”

Chuckling, you added another package of needles to the wire basket you had sitting on the stool next to you. “In the back fawning over the Mongolian Cashmere yarn.”

“Are you talking about the Jade Sapphire brand of Mongolian Cashmere?” Tammy’s eyes widened, leaning closer to you as she held onto the counter.

With a serious nod, you fought back the urge to smile. “The very one.”

“What colors?”

“Moonstone, Red Light District, Ivory, Perugia, and Umbrian Sky.”

Tammy gasped, her hand coming up to clutch her chest. “You only had three colors last time.”

It never ceased to amaze you how die hard some of the women who came into the shop were for the yarn, especially the luxury yarn that you sold. The conversation didn’t last much longer, and it was with a smile that you watched Tammy scurry her way to Carol and whisper in her ear, the two of them high tailing to go find your Grandmother.

While you had your own love and passion for the age-old hobby of knitting – so much that you went into business with your Grandmother to open your own shop, Second Gen Knitters – you weren’t about to go spending fifty dollars on a single hank of yarn. Not only would your bank account cry, but Namjoon would most likely choke on whatever you fed him in an attempt to break the news.

Sighing, you stuck a label on another pair of needles, taking a moment to look around the store. The teal carpet stood out from the hardwood floor, and the mahogany bookcases that lined the walls gleamed from being dusted earlier that morning. On a large square table in the middle of the front room were wicker baskets displaying smaller hanks of colorful sock yarn, and a decorative black wrought iron stand that stood out among the bright colors, held up a sign you had painstakingly painted to display the prices.

In the corner to the left near the windows, was a sitting area with matching teal couches and chair along with a mini coffee table. A various group of knitting, country lifestyle, and People magazines were neatly spread out, completely ignored by the group of husbands that sat there on their phones, letting their wives go about and shop.

It always amused you when a couple would enter the shop and after only a few moments the husband would hightail it to the sitting area, leaving the wife completely unsurprised.

Namjoon never outright said anything, but every time he saw that area filled and he was in the shop, he made a habit of making faces in their direction to amuse you. Whenever you went on your own knitting shopping spree, he would join you and help to make decisions if you were stuck between colors or how many you needed to complete a project. Especially when what was being made was for him, he was there to give his input on colors and textures.

The summer weather made it too warm for the scarves and sweaters that Namjoon loved to wear, but it was perfect to sit down and knit away so he’d be able to wear them in the fall.

As much as you loved him, these last few weeks had your mind spinning with his strange behavior. When Hoseok’s life had gotten turned upside down, Namjoon had become extra protective of you. While the possibility of what happened between Hoseok and his mate would happen to Namjoon and you were highly unlikely, the instinct for him to be there and watch over you was too strong for him to suppress.

You hadn’t minded it, especially when his physical affection increased greatly. But it’d be a lie to say that you weren’t affected by what happened, even if you were barely involved in the situation. It was one of those things that buried itself deep in your mind, forcing you to think about it even when you didn’t want to.

It was different for the two of you though. You weren’t just his Mate, but it was your name written on his Adoption papers.

Life had begun to go back to normal when Hoseok and Sarah were finally reunited, but then they dropped another bomb. Hoseok had signed a contract with a dance company in Seoul and at the end of the month, he was leaving for a year to tour with a professional team made up of elite dancers from all around the world. While you had been stunned by the announcement and how long he was to be gone for, you were ecstatic for your friend to pursue his dreams.

But then, Namjoon changed again.

As the days inched closer to Hoseok’s departure, Namjoon had grown quieter, and surprisingly, withdrawn. The extra affection had declined along with his usual amount. While he was naturally a quiet person, he always managed to start up a conversation and keep it going for hours, but something had flipped inside him and he was barely able to keep one going. Now it was you who was randomly hugging him while out in public or crawling between his legs when you saw him reading on the couch. He never turned your affection down, but he wasn’t seeking it out either.

The bell rang out again, but you didn’t look up as you were in the middle of counting how many needles you already had labeled. If the goal number was met, then you’d be able to put the rest back in the storage room for now.

“Hey Angel.”

The corner of your mouth curled up at the soft and familiar voice calling out his pet name for you, abruptly dropping the needles back into the basket to turn and face him.

Namjoon raised an eyebrow as he looked at the basket, a teasing grin appearing as he leaned against the counter. “Isn’t that important?”

“Not as important as you,” you sweetly answered, smiling as you watched Namjoon duck his head. It was absolutely cheesy, but it worked like magic to make him happy.

“Shut up,” he murmured, handing you a coffee before taking a sip out of his own.

Grateful for the caffeine, you tapped the white recycled cup that’s only design was the black lettering that spelt out, Kim Seokjin’s Café in cursive. “I thought you had work today?”

“Lunch break,” Namjoon answered, his ears twitching as he glanced around the shop. “I thought you might want a cup, and the bus stop just happens to be conveniently near your store.”

You hummed in agreement, leaning back to look in the direction of where your Grandmother was. Well, in the direction that you heard her voice coming from. Even from the front, you were able to hear her explaining how to do a cable stitch to someone.

“How’s your day been though?” You asked, gesturing for him to come around the counter with you. At least his little visits hadn’t stopped. They were a habit he started not long after moving in with you and when he saw how much you looked forward to them, made it a point to come by when he was able to during the day.

He held onto his cup a little tighter, not wanting to spill a single drop as he maneuvered his way around the counter. The space was small and even as you moved the wire basket and stool out of his way, he didn’t seem to relax until he set his cup on the counter. “Good. We’re working with a rapper this time. He’s really hands on with the album, which is amazing considering the last artist we--”

“Oh, Namjoon!” your Grandmother called out.

Teasingly rolling your eyes, you grinned as she came out from the back, her glasses on the bridge of her nose when she held her arms out to bring Namjoon in for a hug, despite the fact that he was easily a foot and a half taller than her.

“Hey Ma, how are you?”

“I’m good sweetheart.”

Without even looking, you were willing to bet that his dimples were showing. Grandmother just had a certain way about her that made it impossible for anyone to not be happy around her.

You leaned backwards against his Namjoon’s chest out of habit when he came back, feeling the gentle vibrations coming from him as he wrapped his arms around your waist in a loose hug. The gesture, while small, had you relaxing even more so. This was the majority of any affection the two of you had been sharing lately.

The moment would have been more enjoyable had you paid attention to the conversation that your Grandmother was having with Namjoon, but you had glanced around the store out of habit. You didn’t want anyone to feel ignored in case they had a question about a product, needed assistance with a project, or simply was ready to check out.

She was looking at the sock yarn at the table across from the counter. An older woman with a wire basket resting on her elbow. It was with experienced eyes that you noticed two of the Jade Sapphira hands sitting in there, and in her hands was some blue sock yarn, but she wasn’t looking at that. Matter of fact, her gaze was focused on you, but it was too low to be an attempt to capture your attention.

To someone who didn’t understand anything about Hybrids, the scar on your neck appeared to be the result of a painful accident. In reality, it was the exact opposite. The scar was your Mate Mark, the very one that you treasured when Namjoon had given it to you almost a year ago, sealing the bond between you as Mates for the rest of your lives.

The old woman stared at the Mate Mark, her gaze flicking towards Namjoon to see the wolf ears on top of his head, then down to his tail that was carefully wagging behind him.

“I’m sorry ma’am,” Grandmother suddenly spoke, stealing your attention as she walked towards the woman who had been staring. “But I couldn’t help but notice you’d been looking at this young man, and while my son-in-law is not for sale, we do have some great patterns in the back that have almost as equally handsome young male models on them.”

Your heart nearly stopped as she led the old woman away and to the back, internally dying at her antics but grateful for them at the same time. Embarrassment had your cheeks feeling warm, and with Namjoon’s body shaking from holding back his laughter, you covered your face with your hands when the women were out of sight.

With the exception of the chuckles slipping out, he was quiet as he tightened his arms around you, leaning down to gently kiss at your Mate Mark. While you had only been able to see her stares, Namjoon had been able to sense the woman’s distaste the second she saw him hugging you.

“She’s a closed-minded old woman,” he softly murmured in your ear, hoping to ease your hands away from your face. “Who is currently having to deal with an upset Ma right now, and I think that’s punishment enough.”

Like always, your skin tingled each time he kissed the mark, the sensation coursing throughout your body even after you lowered your hands. “That doesn’t mean I like her,” you muttered.

Namjoon simply chuckled, settling for kissing your neck again. Normally, you would have let him have his fun before teasing him to stop, reasoning that you were at work and the last thing you wanted to do was make anyone uncomfortable with all the affection. But you didn’t stop him this time. This was perhaps the most affection that he had given out since Hoseok’s career announcement, and you weren’t the one having to initiate it.

“I’ve missed you,” you whispered, sliding your hands over his until you were hugging his arms. It had felt like forever since you last shared such a sweet moment with Namjoon. All you wanted was to make it last, because if tonight was anything like it has been for last several weeks, he wouldn’t be home before midnight again.

Despite your silent wishes, Namjoon lifted his head and kissed your cheek once before resting his chin on top of your head.

“I know,” he softly murmured back, his arms wrapping around you further in an attempt to bring you closer. “I miss you too.”

Your heart dropped however, and you stared at the packaging of the knitting needles you had been counting, wishing that it didn’t feel like there was sea separating you from Namjoon these days.

“Will you be late coming home again?”

He closed his eyes, signing as he kissed the side of your head. Able to sense you true feelings, he knew that you already had the answer. “I’m sorry Angel.”

Pressing your lips together, you gently squeezed his hand. “Will Yoongi be there?”

“Yoongi practically lives there,” he joked, kissing your mark once more before finally pulling back. “I should get going, the bus will be here soon.”

His hand slid down to your lower back before disappearing completely as he walked around the counter, leaving you feeling cold and alone.

It was reassuring to know that Yoongi was going to be with him, but with all the hours he’s been spending at work, it was becoming impossible to recall the times that he was at home. Most nights he was only getting home after you crawled into bed, and having gotten used to Namjoon hugging you to his chest while the two of you slept, sleeping without him wasn’t easy. A majority of the time you found yourself playing on your phone for an hour or so before ditching it in an attempt to get some sleep, but then you’d be woken up at the touch of his arms sliding around your body as he slipped under the covers with a kiss to your neck, coaxing you back to sleep.

Stolen moments and gentle kisses were the most romantic the two of you were getting these days.

As much as you loved them, it all reminded you of the early days of your relationship, and as he withdrew in on himself, you couldn’t help but wonder if it had to do with you. Had the relationship become too much of a routine? Were you becoming predictable? Was he no longer attracted to you?

Like she knew that she was needed, Grandmother once again came back to the front, this time without the old woman following her. “Heading back out Namjoon?”

Namjoon nodded as he leaned down to give her a hug, his arms carefully wrapping around your Grandmother like he thought she was fragile and was afraid that he’d break her. Which wasn’t unrealistic, considering all the dishes that he’s broken in the last year.

“Yes, I need to catch the bus to get back to work.”

“You need to get yourself a driver’s license hun,” Grandma teased, rubbing Namjoon’s back before tilting her head to kiss his cheek.

As they parted from their hug, you smiled at seeing the light blush on his cheeks for a brief moment, any worries disappearing for the time being.

“I like taking the bus Ma,” Namjoon teased, pulling out of her embrace to lean against the counter for a moment. “It’s relaxing and lets me clear my thoughts.”

“You can clear your thoughts at home you know,” Grandma pointed out, her eyes crinkling at the corner. “I’m not getting any younger, and to be able to hold my great-grandbabies is a dream I want to see come true.”

Once again you felt your cheeks heating up, the sound of her laughter echoing as she left the two of you alone again. Ever since you told her that you were Namjoon’s Mate, she made sure to hint around about grandkids whenever the moment struck her.

“I love her I do…” Namjoon murmured, reaching his hand out for yours to hold.

“But she drives us nuts.” You supplied, smiling up at him.

He nodded, his own embarrassed smile appearing to be permanent while displaying his dimples for you. “Okay, I really have to get going or I’ll be late. I love you Angel.”

Your smile softened as he held your hand to his lips, his fingers squeezing your palm quickly. “I love you too Namjoon.”

He didn’t stay much longer, his tail wagging as he walked out the door and shortly out of your sight, his departure forcing you to get back to work, and allowing your worry to come back to the forefront of your mind. This time free to do so since Namjoon wasn’t around to sense your emotions.

It was proven time after time that Hybrids only had one true Mate in their lives, and once couples completed the bond, they weren’t able to have any romantic feelings towards anyone else. Which was why you were struggling to understand these changes with Namjoon.

Reaching up, you touched the Mate Mark, recalling all the moments when Namjoon had been the one to pull you back to bed, to cuddle you for five extra minutes because he had missed you. It was stupid to doubt his love for you, but you couldn’t help it.

There had to be a reason for why he was so distant again. For why he was barely being affectionate these days. Was it because these long nights that he spent at work with Yoongi, were with someone else? That he was enjoying the warm embrace of another before coming home? The idea was far-fetched, and you began doubting it a second later like always, but what were you supposed to think?

“Oh Joonie,” you sighed, seeing that he had left behind his coffee cup.

It was too late to try and rush out to bring it to him, so you tossed it into the trash with a thump, feeling like you were grasping at straws at this point. When you had done researched on what it meant to be Mates, never once did you come across a point where there was a possibility that the couples separated. It wasn’t even a consideration.

But now…you weren’t sure what to think.

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snowe-zolynn-rogers · 3 years ago

Text

Pairings: None

Word Count: 1,702 Words

Summary: Training and Todoroki siblings.

Warnings: Abuse Mention, Death Mention, let me know if I should tag anything else.

Notes: Touya’s clothes include links to what they look like.

Hair Dye Buddies: Chapter 5

"Where are we headed? The teacher dorms?" Touya asked.

"They're right over there." Shoto told him, showing him the building inside the gates. "But we're not going there. Mr. Yamada is over in the 1-C dorms right now, talking to Shinsou, another friend of mine through Midoriya, I guess. We're gonna go bother him and ask if you can train."

Shoto led Touya along after him into the 1-C dorms and was instantly greeted with exclamations of a new student from about half the populous. Touya was happy he still had a mask on his wrist because he heard someone coughing. He quickly put it on his face as he hid behind Shoto.

"No, this is my brother. Where's Present Mic? Still in Shinsou's room or down here?" Shoto asked the tall one with the big chin.

"Mr. Yamada is up in that weirdo's room. Is your brother even allowed on campus?"

Shoto brushed past him, taking Touya's wrist in hand and pulling him along to stay closeby so he wouldn't get bothered by the Gen Ed students who had bombarded them at the door. Touya got led up to the fifth floor and the fourth room on the boy's side before Shoto knocked on the door.

"S'up, little listeners?" Present Mic asked as he opened the door to reveal who Touya was assuming was Shinsou sitting on the bed looking rather tired.

"Is this a bad time?" Shoto asked.

"Not at all, me and Shinsou here were just talking about something but we were just finishing up since Shinsou needs to get his sleep in." Mr. Yamada told them. He was loud and energetic and bubbly, Touya was reminded of Fuyumi.

"Mr. Aizawa said we'd need someone to watch over Touya if he were to train his quirk. and Mr. Aizawa feel asleep in the 1-A commons. I'm sure that Sero's put whipped cream in his hand by now. But Touya needs a teacher to watch him and you're the only one who I knew where you were." Shoto told him.

"Alright, I'll be there just gimme a few minutes, little listeners!" Present Mic beamed and closed the door over. The pseudo-twins stood down the hall by the stairs and waited about ten minutes for Shinsou and him to finish up and hopefully Shinsou was falling or already asleep. He'd looked like he'd need it.

Shoto led Touya back through the students downstairs but this time, Mr. Yamada was leading them through. They began the twenty minute trek to Gym Gamma and they began there.

"Alright, kid, show us what you've got." The teacher told him and he unleashed a blizzard in the building they were in, icing the walls and floor with its intensity before he stopped it of his own will, something he'd never have achieved with his old fire. "That's a mighty strong blizzard you got there, kiddo." Yamada told him.

"Thanks." Touya mumbled.

"Do you have any special moves yet? Yamada asked.

"No, but I guess I could work on it?" And thus began trying for hours until he came up with a concentrated stream of snow flurries being like a firework, his snow acting as a smokescreen, and he learned how to create instant-made snowballs.

"You did great, little listener! I'm proud of you!" Yamada exclaimed.

"Thank you." He mumbled as Shoto and him went back to the dorms and Mr. Yamada

"Do you wanna take a shower, Touya?" Shoto asked.

"Sure."

"If you didn't pick up anything for yourself, I have some soaps in there. Most are for dry skin, but that's probably a plus with how much your fire used to give you burns. The whole towel closet is communal so you don't need to worry about grabbing the wrong one." Shoto told him as they got into the dorms.

"Yeah, thanks, Sho." Touya smiled.

"The twins are bonding!" Yaoyorozu looked pleased.

"Hi, Momo." Shoto greeted them.

"Hi, Momo." Touya parroted.

"Did you have fun training, Touya?" She asked.

"Yeah, I came up with a few things I can do besides just making a blizzard. It feels like this quirk was actually made for me." He proudly announced.

"That's great, Touya. I'm happy you're advancing quickly!" Momo bubbled with energy and smiles. Touya smiled back a bit, her energy was unmatchable, though.

"Hey there, Touya." Came Aizawa from the living room.

"Hi, Mr. Aizawa." He muttered.

"Us teachers had a meeting about the permanence of your deaging and Nezu has your adoption papers going through tonight on a UA direct order. All you need to do is sign them since you're technically a legal age and you'll legally be my son come tomorrow morning." Aizawa handed him a paper on a board.

"Okay." Touya read it over briefly before he signed on the line for his name to be.

"Congratulations, you're my son as of dawn tomorrow. Welcome to the family, we have more cats than humans." Aizawa told him, patting his head and Touya thought he'd get hit for a split second and jolted a the touch.

"Sorry." He muttered. "Didn't mean to react like that."

"You can't help engrained habits and I don't get offended by old habits. They die hard, I get it." Aizawa told him. "Alright, get a shower, you trained with Hizashi, I heard."

Flopping on his bed after his shower felt like heaven. Touya wasn't sure that wasn't what this was, actually. No Endeavor, no abuse, he had his brother, friends, a new parent even. He felt like he was home as he fell asleep in the cloud of a bed, cuddling a pillow close.

He heard but didn't react when Midoriya and Bakugou had their inevitable argument or Aizawa screaming at them to both shut up. He was actually kind of happy to have been deaged. Whatever life he had, he didn't care what it was, couldn't have been better than this new second chance at life.

The next morning was a weekend. Naturally, Aizawa invited Fuyumi and Natsuo over to speak on the matter of Touya's deaging. As soon as Natsuo walked into the meeting room and saw Touya, he was bawling and Fuyumi gasped and stood still. Shoto had to lead her in all the way to close the door.

"Touya, you're alive." Fuyumi whispered.

"Hi, guys." He awkwardly greeted them.

"As you can see we have some serious business to discuss. Please, sit." Aizawa told them. Both older siblings sat down in the chairs around the table.

"How is he alive!?" Natsuo asked loudly, causing the other three siblings to jump.

"Touya was found by Kirishima here the night before last." Aizawa gestured to Kirishima sitting next to him. "Touya has been permanently deaged five years for the last month. And his quirk was changed by the man Kirishima found harassing him outside a convenience store." Aizawa told them.

"He was on the streets two weeks and that man, Matsuda Ryuu, housed him for two weeks after." Aizawa told them. "Touya was temporarily enrolled into UA's hero course so I could keep an eye on him, however his enrollment will be come permanent if that's what he wants. I've legally adopted him since he's stated, at this age, your father threw him out onto the streets to begin with."

"Touya is staying in the 1-A dorms and I trust neither of you will have trouble not telling your father of this development until we figure out how to handle the situation of your father possibly trying to take custody back." Aizawa looked at Natsuo and Fuyumi expectantly.

"Of course not!" Fuyumi exclaimed.

"I don't speak to that piece of shit." Natsuo told him.

"I'll likely tell him once I establish full custody and fully move him into both my house and the dorms. Get him set up, establish communication lines to me and my partner, Hizashi." Aizawa told them.

"You'll keep him safe?" Was all Fuyumi asked.

"Of course. I'm his new parent and guardian, of course I'll keep him safe."

"Alright. Then, I don't see a problem." Natsuo told Aizawa and he looked over Shoto and Touya. "You know, I always thought you two looked like twins." Natsuo told them abruptly.

"Alright, if everyone's good with this, you two have full admission to the campus for the day so you can spend time with Touya and Shoto. Touya has yet to set up anything in his room, so hopefully you two can help him with that." Aizawa told them.

And, with that, the four siblings were off to the dorms and ended up in Touya's room, Natsuo laughing when he saw the clothing Touya had.

"You're still our emo brother, Touya, good to know." Natsuo smiled brightly.

"Yeah. Kirishima's friends took me out for that." Kirishima slung his arm around Touya's shoulders.

"Yeah, his style's a lot like Bakugou so a lot of that stuff is things we picked out for him." Kirishima told them. "This shirt is actually one Kaminari, our local pikachu, picked out for him. Speaking of, I should probably stop him from trying to get his toast out with a fork for the fifth time this week." Touya let them look at the black shirt with chains he was wearing as Kirishima saw himself out.

"I'm glad to see you never changed." Fuyumi beamed.

"I never aged, guys, of course I didn't change. I'm an angsty teenager in the prime of my quarter-life crisis." Touya reminded them.

"You know what I mean." Fuyumi smiled brightly as she hugged him close, she was sniffling? Was she crying? Touya tried to look up but his head was buried in her neck in a way he could barely move it. "I missed you so much." She whispered.

"I mean, I missed you guys too, for the month I remember at least." Touya admitted.

"We thought you died, Touya." Natsuo joined Fuyumi. Shoto awkwardly hugged him as well.

"You three will make me cry and then Mina will be mad about my makeup getting messed up again." Touya let his siblings tackle him into a cuddle pile on the bed. He felt safe having people, his siblings no less, holding him so close.

Taglist: @lgbtforeverything @rin-tanaka @everythingisstardust

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #todoroki touya #todoroki shouto #yamada hizashi #momo yaoyorozu #aizawa shouta #todoroki fuyumi #todoroki natsuo #kirishima eijiro #snoweywrites #hair dye buddies au #tw abuse mention #tw death mention

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mangora · 4 years ago

Text

Wait here’s my TMA/TD fear-assignment master post (gen 1-3 only sorry I couldn’t think of any strong ones for gen 4):

Gen 1:

Gwen: Buried (her fear of being buried alive, yes, but also I think it’d be fun bc you know she looks like a corpse)

Courtney: Eye (I love archivist Courtney. Also the fact she needs knowledge and access to knowledge through things like the cheating incident and her PDA, but it destroys her...mwah, Jon shit)

Duncan: Desolation (he destroys everything he touches for his own satisfaction. His relationships, private property, exc.)

Cody: Lonely (no matter how many people he talks to or matches together he’s always single and alone, and his social awkwardness wards people off)

Owen: Vast, maybe Web (his fear of flying and also being voted out quickly and his vying for attention are Vast 100% but also the fact Chris used him as a spy in TDA speaks to web)

Noah: Web (his unwillingness to be manipulated by Alejandro or forced to participate by other players is very webby)

Heather: Web or Hunt (she’s manipulative and almost always gets what she wants, but also her preying on others and being adamant about her goals is Hunt shit so idk)

Lindsay: Flesh (her fear of being not beautiful? Flesh 100%)

Beth: Lonely (she’s always trying to be nice or be like others but never gets the attention she wants from it)

Trent: Stranger (his fear of mines, the way everyone finds his number nine compulsion so uncanny, the way he’s put off when Gwen starts acting different in TDA? Yea that’s the stranger. I could definitely see a statement where he talks about always seeing mimes mimicking him and he begins to mimic others and can’t stop)

Katie and Sadie: Stranger (the parallels with Breekon and Hope kill me. They act and look so uncannily alike. Could be interesting if one of them started mimicking the other too and the other is disturbed)

Izzy: Spiral (shes fucking wild)

Eva: Slaughter (full of rage)

Bridgette: Hunt (her fear of being in the woods and her connection with animals is all Huntcore)

Geoff: Web or Lonely (seeing as he’s such a party dude, I could see him being terrified of what it’s like to not be surrounded with people, but also the way he becomes more manipulative in TDA is kinda web-ish)

Leshawna: I honestly dunno. I wanna say Slaughter because of her attitude towards Heather, but also her realist view reminds me of a Spiral victim like Helen, and her actions in TDA are reminiscent of a Web avatar. I’m gonna say Slaughter is the strongest.

Harold: Dark (fear of being sneaked up on by ninjas first off, but also considering how much he knows about everything, I think being in the dark would terrify him)

DJ: Hunt (his animal curse in WT but it manifests to be like way worse)

Ezekiel: Corruption or Hunt (him going feral and becoming a monster is classic corruption but his determination to win through any means necessary is very Hunt)

Tyler: Lonely (his need to impress everyone with his sports stunts and his constant attempts to get Lindsay to remember him? Yea lonely)

Justin: Flesh (his fear of being ugly and the importance he puts in his looks are classic Flesh behavior)

Alejandro: Flesh (he’s manipulative like a Web avatar, but also a lot of his charm comes from his looks, and his fear of putting gross food in his body is very Fleshy)

Sierra: Eye (she knows everything about everyone dude)

Gen 2:

Zoey: Lonely (she grew up ostracized in a small town and has a hard time making the friends she longs for, she’s definitely tied to the Lonely)

Cameron: Eye (once again, knows everything, and wants to experience everything. I could see him as Courtney’s runner-up or assistant, and marked by the buried because I can imagine his bubble would make him scared of being trapped again)

Mike: Web (he’s afraid of doing bad things against his will)

Mal: Slaughter (he just wants to fuck shit up and hurt people)

Vito: Flesh (also puts a lot of importance in his looks)

Manitoba: Hunt (explorer man)

Svetlana: Flesh (since she puts so much time and love into gymnastics, I think an incident involving injury would freak her tf out)

Chester: End (he’s old and wants to make the most of that)

Brick: Dark (he’s afraid of being lost without direction, as well as the literal dark)

Jo: Hunt (shes focused on winning almost exclusively)

Dawn: Extinction (she’s afraid of the earth and creatures on it withering away)

Anne Maria: Lonely (she puts so much emphasis on being seen and loved and gets volatile when people challenge that)

Scott: Web (he’s a master of scheming, what more should I say)

B: Eye (he’s afraid of others knowing about him and can’t give things up easily, but will use his knowledge to help when needed)

Staci: Stranger (she makes up so many lies for no gain besides attention and upsetting people. She’s like a car wreck you can’t look away from)

Dakota: Corruption (marked by the lonely because she needs attention to function, but I think her becoming dakotazoid and the terror she had getting there points to corruption. Also allegory of Hollywood destroying her blah blah blah)

Sam: Desolation (his self worth is put into material objects like video games and the destruction of them is shown to ruin him)

Lightning: Hunt (I know his body image leans into Flesh but his determination to win and arrogance are like that of a natural predator)

Gen 3:

Shawn: Extinction (I think he’s marked by corruption too because of his fear of zombies corrupting him, but the mass tragedy angle and doomsday prepping is very extinction-like)

Jasmine: Buried (claustrophobia, yea, but also her fear of being trapped by her feelings for Shawn point to buried. This ones kinda loose though, I could see her connected to the web or hunt too)

Sky: Flesh (similar to Svetlana, I think an injury as a gymnast would destroy her, also a big part of flesh is pride, and losing her pride and winning streak freaks Sky out)

Dave: Corruption (his germaphobia as well as his insistence on being with or ‘infecting’ Sky...yea that’s the corruption)

Scarlett: Eye (she knows a lot and uses it to watch and manipulate others)

Max: Web (he’s very methodical, if not smart, in his scheming, and him being outwitted by Scarlett freaked him tf out)

Ella: Lonely (I mainly say this for her fear of being hated by Sugar. I could also see Buried bc shes upset about Chris trapping her by revoking her ability to sing)

Leonard: Spiral (could also lean into Stranger, but his ability to convince so many people to believe in something that doesn’t exist purely with his own belief in magic is very Spirally, plus his frustration with Dave is much like Micheal’s with Jon when he could see through his bullshit, and him losing his ability to cast physical magic is very much like a Spiral victim’s descent back into humanity)

Beardo: Dark (put simply, we don’t know much about him, and he disguises any recognizable trait with sounds. Could also be Stranger)

Sugar: Hunt (fear of losing, exc. also the way she preys on others weaknesses for her own game, pun intended? Yea)

Sammy (I will not call her Samey in this house): Lonely (Amy traps her in a world where no one will talk to her or validate her ideas, it’s pretty sad. Could also see her touched by the Eye during her time impersonating Amy)

Amy: Web (she’s great at manipulating others into liking her)

Topher: Stranger (him trying to replace Chris and disillusion others to it is a pretty not-them move)

Rodney: Lonely (the fact that he’s constantly misunderstood and can’t connect with others because of it. Sad)

Feel free to add your own input! I’m not 100% sure on quite a few of these and some of the traits of the fears overlap (Stranger and Web, Hunt and Slaughter, exc.) so uh beans

#total drama #I’m not tagging all the characters sorry there’s too many

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hale-13 · 3 years ago

Text

Shackled

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 7 Prompt - Collared

Peter Parker had been missing for one full week and Ned was losing his mind.

Words: 2502, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Ned Leeds

Characters: Peter Parker, Ned Leeds

TW: Angst

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

“Ned honey?” His mom said, knocking on the frame of his cracked open door and poking her head in. Her expression was as careful and neutral as it had been for the last week – ever since Peter had gone missing on his walk to school.

Ned had spent most of the morning between classes trying to text Peter (seriously – it was just super rude to not be in school and not tell your friends. Who did that?) before both he and MJ had been called to the office. Principal Morita was both gentle and firm as he questioned them about Peter’s possible whereabouts and ‘were they covering for him? No one was in trouble they just needed to know’. May hadn’t called Peter in sick and had no idea where he might be so, naturally, they assumed his best friends might have some clue. Ever since he had gotten his powers Peter had been pretty flaky but, so far, he had always at least sent some sort of message to someone if he had Spider Business.

May, more frantic now, had tried to alert the police but had been shot down since Peter had been missing less than twenty-four hours and was what they would classify as ‘troubled’ with his absence record and disciplinary record at school. Tony Stark, who had been May’s next call, had gone into full panic-helicopter-mentor mode and had hacked into cameras all over the city to try and find out what he could. Unfortunately, the footage seemed to have been wiped leaving them with no leads other than Peter’s discarded book bag and cellphone left in an alley not far from the school.

Finding this had finally spurred the police into motion and had prompted an Amber Alert and search parties made up of May’s co-workers and Peter’s friends. Tony was surveying things via the Iron Legion while he spent most of his time in his workshop in the Tower; using FRIDAY and probably lots of illegal methods to try and track Peter down.

Ned had been helping May and MJ just about everyday after school since to hang up flyers and ask around to see if anyone had seen Peter but, so far, no luck. His parents had been doing what they could to help as well but Ned knew they could see him cracking under the pressure and worry.

They had, in fact, pulled him into a conversation the night before to tell him they wanted him to talk to a therapist, that finding someone missing after the first fourth-eight hours was really hard and they wanted to do what they could to prepare him for all eventualities and that they would always be there for him no matter what.

Ned liked to think he was a pretty chill and easy-going guy for the most part so he won’t say that he’s proud of how he handled that conversation. At least his parents didn’t get too upset when he skipped school with MJ to keep looking that day.

“Hmm?” Ned asked, not bothering to look up from his computer where he was pretending to write his English essay but seeing his mom’s cautious expression in his peripheral vision anyway. He didn’t like that she looked at him like he was made of glass that might shatter at any given moment.

“Your father and I are going to go grab some dinner and maybe see a movie. Want to come with us?” She sounded so hopeful and a small, angry part of Ned hated how normal they were trying to make things. Didn’t they understand that his best friend since kindergarten, his only friend other than MJ, was missing and could be… could be…

“No thanks,” he said instead, trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible and pretending not to see the hurt look on his mom’s face when he turned down her offer.

“Okay,” she said, her tone soft with just the barest edge of disapproval. He was just glad that she didn’t try to force him into going but he had a feeling that he was due for another ‘family chat’ soon. “Text me if you want us to bring you something back.”

“Thanks,” Ned mumbled, still not looking up even when his mom let out a sad sigh and left, pulling his door back closed. Ned sniffed and wiped his tired eyes, he had a headache that was brewing and he wanted nothing more than to sleep but he couldn’t. If it was him missing he knew that Peter wouldn’t take any breaks looking for him so Ned couldn’t either. They had to find him.

Hearing the front door shut, Ned closed out of his essay and pulled back up Karen’s systems, still on his computer from the last time he and Peter had hacked into the Spider Suit, and went over the data she had managed to extract from Mr. Stark’s AI, FRIDAY without him knowing or, more likely, without him trying to stop them from taking the info for themselves. It was Tony Stark after all. The data itself was a disappointingly small amount and nothing that really helped point him in any kind of definitive direction. His phone buzzed against the desk, pulling Ned back.

From: MJ

Anything?

Ned rubbed his eyes again, little lights dancing over his vision at the pressure and typed out a quick ‘No’ in response before tossing his phone to the side. Something had to turn up eventually. He just knew it would.

As if summoned, taps sounded on his window and Ned froze, not daring to hope. He waited and the taps sounded again, more incessantly this time, and Ned jumped up from his desk – banging his knee in the process and nearly falling – but making it to the window to unlock it and throw it open. It couldn’t be…

After a week of being missing, Peter fell through to land roughly on the hard wood flooring of Ned’s room.

“Peter,” Ned said, breathless and voice full of emotion as tears pricked his eyes, reaching out a hand to help Peter up and then backing away when his friend flinched violently away from him.

“Sorry,” Peter said, his voice rough as he forced himself to his feet with a disingenuous smile on his face that didn’t reach his eyes. “Sorry.”

Ned narrowed his eyes in concern. Peter was pale, his face thinner than it had been the last time Ned had seen him. He was wearing dirty sweat pants and a shirt that may have been white in a previous lifetime but was now yellowed and dirty. His clothing was covered in rips and tears, bloody skin in various stages of healing peaking through and staining his clothes. His fingers were twitching in time with the tic in his left eyebrow and his eyes were shifting all over the place like he was looking for something.

Worst of all had to be the half broken metal collar with wires poking out around his neck and the clear electrical burns surrounding it.

“We need to call May,” Ned said, rushing to his phone. “We need to call Mr. Stark.”

“No!” Peter said, limping quickly across the room to block Ned from his phone. The hand that touched his was cold and clammy with sweat and Peter was quick to remove it once he realized he was touching Ned. “They can’t see me like this, especially May. You have to help me,” he pleaded.

“Peter,” Ned said sadly as he took in how broken and tired his friend looked. “You need to go to the hospital – I’m not a doctor! I can’t fix all of… this!” He exclaimed, gesturing to all of Peter with an exaggerated movement.

Peter flinched again and crossed his arms across his abdomen, hunching in on himself. “I know,” he said, voice rough and broken. “I know but I don’t want them to see… I don’t…” he made an abortive movement to gesture at the collar. “I almost got it off but I couldn’t… please help.”

“You promise to let me call May and Tony right after?” Ned asked, slowly reaching out to rest his hand on Peter’s shoulder. He wanted to pull him into a hug but he figured that wouldn’t go over too well just yet. Peter nodded hurriedly, some of the tension leaking out of him with Ned’s agreement, and he let himself sink ungracefully to the floor. “Why didn’t you just break it?”

“It uh,” Peter said, squeezing his eyes closed and wetting his lips. “It suppresses my powers.”

“Whoa,” Ned muttered, sitting next to Peter and surveying the collar more closely. Peter twitched his chin down and hunched his shoulders again and Ned just waited for him to relax enough for Ned to get a closer look. The collar was a thick and heavy dull metal and was seated tight enough around Peter’s throat to dig into his skin and chafe; Ned winced sympathetically. The red light on the front was blinking dimly, poking out from a thick black box that Peter had clearly torn into at some point. Peter was uncharacteristically quiet while Ned stared but every muscle in his body was tensed like he was ready to run if necessary. “Can I hug you?” Ned blurted out earnestly making Peter jump a little in surprise.

“I… um you… what?” He asked leaning back so he could look at Ned more fully.

“You look like you need a hug,” Ned told him, reaching his arms up but taking care not to touch Peter. “So can I hug you?”

The nod Peter gave him was wobbly and wooden but, the second Ned wrapped his arms around him and pulled him in, Peter went limp, mashing his face into Ned’s shoulder before letting out a quiet and broken little sob. Peter’s own arms were shaking as they wrapped back around Ned, crying harder and wetting the front of Ned’s shirt with tears.

Ned could feel his heart breaking in his chest but that was overshadowed by a feeling of anger so strong that it nearly turned his vision red. Peter had been his best friend since they were kids. Peter had always been there for him no matter what. Whoever had dared to do this… well Ned didn’t pity what was going to happen to them. In lieu of letting out his frustrations, Ned just pulled Peter in tighter, shushing him and carefully patting his back.

“Sorry,” Peter whispered a few minutes later when he pulled back, using trembling hands to wipe his reddened eyes and chapped cheeks free of tears. “I didn’t mean to break down like that on you,” he said with a humorless laugh.

“Peter…” Ned wanted to tell Peter that he could always break down around Ned if he needed to. Peter was his brother in all but blood – Ned would always be there for him – but Peter shook his head violently to stop him, reaching up to let blood stained fingers brush the collar – his nails ragged and torn down to the quick.

“Please,” he begged, looking like he was barely keeping it together and Ned nodded.

“Okay Pete. I’ll look at it,” Ned reassured, moving his hands slowly up to touch the skin-warmed metal around his friend’s throat. “Does this have a tracker in it? A stun feature?” He tried to keep it professional but Peter still grimaced at the questions.

“I disabled the tracker and the electricity I think,” Peter said. “I just can’t see the mechanism to release it and I just… I need it off. I can’t…” his breathing sped up and Ned gripped his shoulder tightly in solidarity.

“It’ll be okay,” Ned said again, cautiously sorting through the loose wires to look into the black box just under Peter’s chin. “When you said this suppressed your powers did you mean all of them?”

Peter gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing painfully against the metal as he gave a tiny nod. “All of them,” he confirmed.

“What about your hearing?” Ned pressed, pulling his hands back from the locking mechanism of the collar. Peter frowned at him before paling further at the realization.

“Oh,” he said, reaching both hands up to grip the collar. “My hearing…”

“If I take it off,” Ned cautioned, “and all your senses come back at once…”

“That would be bad,” Peter confirmed. “It would be very bad.”

“I know you don’t want me to,” Ned started, ignoring the way that Peter was shaking his head. “But I really think we should call May and Mr. Stark. They’re worried about you and Mr. Stark has that sensory deprivation room for your overloads.”

“I can’t do that to May,” Peter said firmly. “I already went and got myself kidnapped I can’t put her through this.” His voice was more steady than it had been since he had arrived and Ned felt like rolling his eyes at Peter’s typical self-flagellation.

“Happy then,” Ned suggested, desperate. Peter bit his lip, considering for a second, before nodding his consent prompting Ned to leap for his phone, dialing Happy before Peter could stop him.

“Look Leeds,” Happy grumbled into the phone, the background noise muffling his voice slightly. “I already told you – we’ll call when we know something so just-,”

“Peter’s here,” Ned blurted out, sitting back down next to his friend and pulling him into a half hug that Peter fell into willingly, curling up into Ned’s side. “He’s here. “Whoever had him put this… they… look he doesn’t want May to see him until he’s fixed up some so can you just come get us?” Ned asked following it up with a ‘Please’ as an afterthought.

“The kid’s with you?” Happy asked, sounding like he was running. “Put him on the phone.”

“He wants to talk to you,” Ned said, offering Peter the phone which he, reluctantly, took.

“Hey Happy,” Peter tried for chipper but fell spectacularly short and Ned winced a little. “I’m okay they just put… look I don’t want May to see me like… to see… can you just come get me please?” Peter sounded teary again and Ned plucked the phone from his hand to put back to his own ear.

“You’re coming right?”

“On my way,” Happy confirmed. “Give me eight minutes.” And with that he hung up the phone leaving Ned to drop it into his lap.

“I should probably text MJ,” he told Peter, not making any effort to move. “She’ll be pissed if she’s the last to know,” he joked and Peter snorted.

“Probably,” he agreed, letting his eyes slip closed and his breathing even out.

He needed to text MJ, call his mom and let her know Peter was back and that he was going to visit, pull Peter out into the living room to wait for Happy. But, Ned decided as Peter gripped Ned’s hoodie a little tighter, it could wait for just a few more minutes.

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump17 #Prompt: Collared #irondad #spider man #Summer of Whump 2021

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crushzone · 4 years ago

Note

Hello my lovely your smut is god tier💞. Could i request a cheeky threesome between ennoshita and akaashi (seeing as they are both next gen captains😘). Reader is a bit of a switch. Thank you and enjoy your day.

Blue Petals ❀ Part 1 (NSFW) -Haikyuu!!-

Character: Ennoshita Chikara x Fem!Reader x Akaashi Keiji

Summary: The pressure of bidding good bye becomes immense, as a manga artist, her editor (Akaashi), and her roommate (Ennoshita), reflects on the nature of their relationship and what they want out of it after their second to last weekly meeting at her apartment.

Word Count: 7,842

Contents: Love triangle, time skip characters, mutual pining (every character is attracted to one another), steamy make out session, slow burn.

Additional Notes:

Carla, I know you didn’t ask for all this love triangle part 1 for this fic, but I can’t help it omg. I promise you, you WILL get ALL the steamy threesome smut action in part 2 haha. 😏

It should be up sometime soon, I’ve already written it, just needs proofreading. The navigation to part 2 will appear with a clickable link when it is up. 👍🏻

Blue Petals, is drawn from my senior thesis short film title that I had to make for my Film major. However, the plot for the short had nothing to do with the one that I came up for Y/n’s manga, I simply drew the name from it.

>>> PART TWO

Please do not repost my work ✨

Characters are aged up.

Water…running through my fingers —This must be the way she felt when it skids down her bare back.

He wishes he can shape shift — to become one with this water and caress your smooth skin with his warm droplets.

Ennoshita leans against the sink, turning the faucet off as he absentmindedly shake his hands mid air, springing droplets off the tip of his digits, as if he’s loosely attempting to rid his fascination of you.

This is wrong. It’s going to complicate things. Just…Irrational.

His large hands brace the corner of your shared marbled counter, mind refusing to shut off as it rebels, sprinting a thousand miles a minute in the direction he is desperately trying avoid.

The drip from the faucet casts a constant rhythm to the, otherwise, silent apartment. He mentally curses as he brings his dampened hand to rotate the knob, droplets growing fainter as it cease.

He loves his job, he really does, and he excels at being a physical therapist. The amount of hours he’s put into acquiring this job, the efforts he put into remembering his patient’s names, and the smile he puts on to encourage them to stay strong, really pays off in the end.

However, today, every second when he was not tending to his patient, and when he was alone in the sea of hustling scrubs, his mind betrayed him; the image of you walking out of the restroom at 5 AM, this morning, in just your soaked towel. The way the droplets on your naked shoulders glisten under the faint kiss of tungsten that peaks from your bedroom, like gold dragon scales, so majestic yet delicate.

He had just tumbled out of his room, half asleep, in just boxers and black t-shirt. His eyes immediately widen when it met yours, a suppressed squeal escapes your throat, as you fumble with the top of your plushy towel.

However, that didn’t help because by hastily pulling it further up your Décolleté, only revealed your other round asset that peaks from the bottom hem.

“I’m so sorry!” You both muster in great embarrassment, as footsteps spiral down opposite ends of the corridor. When the doors slammed with a bang, Ennoshita slid to the ground with a hand over his heated face.

Oh boy.

This was not his first encounter either, from years of high school together and 2 years of being your roommate, he’s well aware of your clumsiness. But that also makes you so painfully endearing.

Now, back to the sink where he hovers, steadying his breaths as he could feel his member push the sturdy fabric of his trousers taut.

This can’t be happening right now, in a few minutes, you’re going to walk through the door and se-

Click.

His rhythmic breaths hitch when he could hear the click of the lock, and the twist of the knob.

“Chikaraaaa-kun, I’m home! I brought you your favorite pineapple pecan cake from the bakery nearby.” You bump the door open with your hip as you clumsily shuffle through the entrance, arms bracing stack of folders and a laptop. Then you shut the door with your elbow, bumping your hip against the wooden fixture as you rotate the lock.

The fear of getting caught mid-boner should’ve given him the fuel to suppress it, but oddly, it only worsens when he sees you, standing there so effortlessly beautiful and ridiculously oblivious to his fascination of you.

“Thank you, Y/n-san!” He responds, turning his head to offer you a smile while his hips remain glued to the cool sink. “I cooked us some dinner, it’s all in the fridge. I barely saw you this week, so I don’t mind waiting to eat mine after your meeting with Akaashi.”

You were already in the middle of preparing for the meeting with your manga editor, eagerly spreading your portfolios all over the dining table, and clearing any other unnecessary decorations to make room.

“That is so thoughtful, thank you so much! I appreciate ya.” You turn to him with a wide smile, ignoring the warmth that cradles your cheeks.

He makes you so happy, so very happy.

There had always been something that draws you to him, even from the first day he’d introduced himself at Karasuno.

The way his voice is as warm as a cup of hot cocoa, and his gentle eyes scan your face with the most genuine smile. He reminds you of the comfort and warmth of a sweater, a piece of homeliness you get to bring with you, even when you are somewhere unexplored and cold. He’s always had your back at times when you feel like flopping, and likewise, when you would cradle him in your embrace as he falls into quiet tears at moments when he’d undermine himself of his capabilities.

Chikara is a warm sense of familiarity, a sunrise that promises a new day, the fragrance of trustworthiness that you are incredibly drunken on. Every night when you would bid each other sweet dreams, there would always be a subtle moment of hesitation before soft footsteps saunter across the corridor to your respective rooms. When the doors shut, you always curse at the way your feet rebel, how it tear your chances to run the opposite direction and into his arms nightly.

Because he is your roommate. And that would be complicated.

A rational portion in your mind whispers, shining a lone beam of light through your fog of infatuation, as you will your gaze away from his chocolate orbs.

Your admiration for Ennoshita had far exceeded friendship, even before you’ve decided to move in together as roommates. Till this day, you wonder why you were the one to insist on rooming if you knew you had always been in love. Perhaps his homeliness made you wonder what it would be like to come back to his gentle smile after work, or maybe it was because you didn’t want to let go of your muse.

And then there’s Akaashi…If Ennoshita reminds you of the the warm sun, Akaashi is the calmness of the ocean. The cooling sea breeze that kisses your skin with a gentle mist from dancing tides.

At the thought of him, a series of gentle knocks on the door snaps the tension from the air as you scurry to open it.

Meanwhile, Ennoshita remains by the counter, mentally crafting an escape as the thought of seeing Akaashi’s cooling eyes would only worsen his predicament. Using his quick wit, he takes advantage of the commotion to spring himself from the counter, speed-walking across the dining room, then up the stairs.

“I’ll leave you guys to it!” He says cheerily, when he’s already halfway up.

Akaashi had just stepped in and is removing his shoes as you close the door. “Oh, okay! I’ll let you know when we’re done.”

“You don’t have to lea-“ He begins, but is cut short when Ennoshita quickly waves at him.

“Hi Akaashi-san, please make yourself at home.” He says, before immediately disappearing behind his bedroom door.

Had our weekly meetings been inconvenient for him this whole time? If so, maybe the next should be held elsewhere. Akaashi wonders, a little concerned at his strange behavior as he absentmindedly readjusts the small paper bag on his wrist.

“Is he okay?”

“I think so?” But truthfully, you’re not convinced that he is. “He probably just wanted some time alone.” You revise, walking him to the dining table.

“Oh, I brought you and Ennoshita-san some Yaki Tomorokoshi by the way.” He waves the bag gently, its cotton strings left the faintest mark on his slim wrist.

“Akaashi-kun! You really didn’t have to.” You can’t help but smile, grateful that the people in your life had been so kind and thoughtful. “If you’re up for it, maybe we can all watch a movie later so we can enjoy the dinner that Ennoshita-kun cooked, your Yaki Tomorokoshi, and the pineapple pecan cake I bought!”

A soft smile graces his lips as his hooded eyes linger on the wooden ground, a little too shy to meet yours. “That would be nice.”

And you beam at his response, finding warmth radiate your heart as your scalp tingles, nearly exploding at how precious you thought his little smile was.

What started off as a distraction from Ennoshita, only worsened when you and Akaashi grew closer through your line of work. He was there with you from the first chapter of your manga, where you’d meet up weekly to discuss revisions. Your meetings usually take place at restaurants, and you find yourself lingering after, ordering some extra sake and Daifuku as you spend the final hours of the night, chatting

He seats himself in his usual spot across from you, and you do the same after you’ve placed his grilled corn in the fridge, next to your dessert and Ennoshita’s cooking.

His quiet demeanor, professionalism, and calculating eyes were intimidating. but they gradually grow on you overtime, when you learn that he is just as shy as you are, and is also prone to occasional clumsiness as well. It’s really endearing.

One day, as you two were waiting for your checks to return, he’d asked about your manga’s source of inspiration, reasoning that he’d also been in search for his own, so he can write his short novel.

So with some hesitance, you described Ennoshita to him, without the mention of his name, and it got him very fascinated.

“Is this person, who inspired your protagonist, around? I’d love to meet him one day.”

It felt strange, describing your deep-rooted fondness for your crush to the other, but you also felt embraced, both by the thought of Chikara and by Akaashi’s undivided attention for you.

“He is, he’s actually my roommate.” You responded, nervously, taking a sip of your warm water as you try to drown the sudden flutter of nervousness with it.

His brow raised slightly, as he leaned on his palm, never dropping the gentle smile that adorned his soft looking lips.

“I’d love to meet him one day. What’s his name?”

“Ennoshita. Ennoshita Chikara.” Your eyes brightened at the mention of your friend’s name, forgetting for a second that you were talking to Akaashi. But when you linked your gaze to his dusty green orbs, your brows quirked when you realized his smile had widened.

“Oh. I know him.”

Since that day, you began offering your apartment for meetings, and it’s been that way for over two years now. Initially, Ennoshita would lock himself in his room to give you and Akaashi some privacy, but when you both assure that his company is welcomed; after all this is his apartment too, he eased up and fell into the routine of reading a book on the couch, while you work quietly at the dining table behind it.

However, you notice he had been distant lately, and you wonder if it had to do with you spending more time with Akaashi.

Ennoshita is on his bed, head spinning in a cocktail of thoughts. His fingers lightly graze the expanse of his exposed abs as he sighs, pulling his shirt back down and firmly lacing his hands over it.

That was a close one.

He’s lost track of time, it felt like hours since he’d locked himself in his room, taking steady breaths as he slowly glided his fingers over his sensitive skin, a desperate simulation of skin ship, to slowly suppress the urge of pleasuring himself to the thought of you and Akaashi. It was a rough battle as his mind constantly alternates between what it must feel like to plant gentle kisses to your soft skin, then to his calloused hands firmly running across the terrain of Akaashi’s sculpted body. Both souls so beautiful, yet so different in physique.

But what he yearns is beyond physical, he’s known you like the back of his hand, and your presence comforts him. You are like flowers in spring, the sweet smell of honey nectar, and your smile is the reason cloud dances to the wind under the warm presence of the tangerine sun.

He smiles in admiration of your diligence, when he would walk out of his room for water, in the middle of the night, to see you curled up by the dining table, your blue mechanical pencil in hand as you scribbled away at your manga panels. The paper lantern above you casted a cocoon of soft light that protected you from the darkness, and for a moment, it felt like he was watching you under the inky sea, and you are a mythical creature that emitted light.

He truly misses his days in Karasuno, when you would meet him after his practice to bounce story ideas for your manga, underneath the sunset’s performance, sitting side by side on the roof of an academic building.

“Oh!! Maybe Imogen and Habiki grew up in a rural area together, Habiki’s parents run a bakery shop while Imogen’s family owns an alteration store.” You say, waving your voice recorder in excitement, making sure it’s still going.

“I like that! Maybe there’s something special about this rural area. A noteworthy wonder that Habiki would instantly be reminded of when Imogen writes him letters while he is in war.” Ennoshita added, leaning back on his hands as he looked up to the sky in thought.

Screenwriting and storytelling had always interested him, and brainstorming with you inspired him to make his own films one day, maybe after your manga is done, so you can keep staring at the sun while daydreaming together.

You mimicked his stance, but instead of looking to the sky, your gaze shifted to him with a content smile. He is so beautiful: his gentle gaze unwavering as his mellow orbs embraced the splashes of pinkish hue in its glimmer, and the small smile that grazed his lips are kissed by the reflection of the fiery sky. For once, you wished you could turn into the sun, just so you can envelope his smooth skin with your warmth.

Then you were struck with an idea.

“What if…” You began, “What if there are these blue flowers that could only be grown in that area, and Imogen would always harvest and send pressed blue flowers to Habiki. He would then decorate his journal with it, sometimes even using it as a bookmark until it no longer hold its shape. It would remind him of the times when he would sit next to her, after work at his parent’s bakery, in the middle of the blue flower field, just watching sunset draw its curtains. ”

He spent a moment, allowing your imagination to sink in. Sometimes he wishes he could be your Habiki and you could be his Imogen.

You felt warmth blossom your cheeks, unsure if that was from the sun or if it was from embarrassment that you may have potentially given away the fact that Ennoshita had been your inspiration for Habiki all along.

“I like that a lot. Have you ever thought about how you’re going to end your manga? A striking image that summarizes Habiki’s long journey through war and the struggles he went through to try to find his way back home?”

Then your gaze faltered from the sky, as you looked down to your dirty shoes, subsequently tucking your chin between the basin of your knees. “No…I don’t know. All this time, I may have just been day dreaming. I don’t know if I have the talent to-“

“Y/n-san…” His tone grew serious, drawing your eyes to meet his. “There was never a moment when I’ve doubted your talent, and you shouldn’t either. I know this is something you’ve always wanted to do; to make your manga, and if it is truly what you want, I genuinely think you should pursue it.” He reached over to place a firm hand on your shoulder. “And I know starting something from scratch can be scary, but I am here for you.”

“What if no one even bothers to read it?” You sighed, turning away with a frown.

“Then I’m going to buy all 10, no 100, more like 1,000 copies of your manga and read it over and over again.” He chuckled warmheartedly. A strange flutter in your gut, slowly ascended your body at his laugh. “So what if it is a fail, you poured your heart into it, and in the end, you can come out of it knowing that you gave it your best. As long as you never give up and stick with it, even when it feels like the world is against you, is a success in its own.”

Your lips transformed into the largest smile, brows twitching in an attempt to hold back happy tears. He studied you, gaze darting between your lips and glassy eyes, breath hitched as he lost control of his body, slowly leaning towards your awaiting lips. You find yourself doing the same, your beating heart screamed to be free, to follow its will.

However…

“Chikara-kun.” You breathed, verbally forcing yourself to stop, and he did the same. “If we ever end up in the same area after university…will you be my roommate?”

He sat back up, and after a moment, he blinked away his rejection as he lifted his gaze from the concrete floor to your nervous expression with a soft smile. “Of course.”

And just like that, the sun had fully set, raven wings consumed any remaining sprinkle of flames and embers from the sky.

Does she still have the voice recording from that day? Did his facade falter when he said yes to being your roommate? If only he could have some of that audio to relive his memory with.

Like a torch that had been passed on, you no longer come to him for ideas on your manga as often as you did, instead, you would do so with Akaashi. He’s not upset, but simply nostalgic for those special moments he had with you, if anything, he’s more than happy you’ve come this far. Your manga had been selling prolifically with the help of your publisher, and is now a chapter away from being complete.

This meeting that you are having with Akaashi would probably be one of the last few chances he’d get to see him.

He chuckles under his breath, what a small world.

Though he’s never been very close with Fukurodani’s setter, he’s well aware of his existence since training camp at Saitama. The way he was able to maintain his calm demeanor, regardless of how emotional his best friend, Bokuto may be, is very noteworthy. He’d sneak glances at him during lunch and every time they walked by one another in the dorm hallway or during their tournaments, their eyes would automatically lock, followed by a small nod; a silent gesture of acknowledgement, mutual respect, and…admiration?

There’s something irresistibly charming about Akaashi that he could not put a finger on, and it doesn’t help that he only got to view him from a distance.

He’d hooked up with a few women during his time in university, especially on nights when he’s desperately touch starved for you, but he never thought he’d be into men. When he’d met Akaashi, perspective widened, gender and preferences are no longer black and white, as it became fluid, like a string of yarn, dancing care freely in the wind. His charm is beyond gender, it is his own.

However, he’d never thought too much about it because the opportunity to grow closer were slim, training being hectic and all. Until recently, when you would bring him here for weekly meetings.

What started with small glances when he’d enter and politely remove his shoes, perfectly lining it in parallel to the edge of the mud carpet, to the way he looks at you in fascination, leaning on his palm with a soft smile as you ramble vibrantly about your narrative ideas.

He’s not upset, not one bit, if anything, it’s comforting to know someone finds you as special as he does. Someone who could care for you when he couldn’t be there right away. It’s a confusing mix of attraction: your familiar comfort and warmth, like freshly done laundry, so warm and comfy to lay on, versus his exciting, serene, and unexplored presence, like the sweet smell of petrichor as he bikes by a rice field after it’d rained; both equally as attractive and inviting.

Then his phone lights up beside him, intervening his train of thought.

Y/n ☀️ [20:28]

We’re all good!! Ready for din din whenever you are 🐷

He chuckles softly at the endearing way you text.

Chikara [20:28]

Be out in a sec! :)

Then he sets his phone down, takes a deep breath, and palms his bulging member. Quickly realizing:

I guess I’m going to need more than a second…

You shut your folder with a sigh, drawing both knees to your chest, and leaning it against the table, clearly comfortable under his presence to allow your antics to slip. “Thanks again, for coming over, Akaashi. I can’t believe we’re a meeting away from ending this manga, where’d the time go.”

He nods, discreetly fiddling his fingers under the desk while maintaining a calm expression.

“Yeah.” It was all he could say, fearful that his calm facade may slip.

What now, is this it? Should he say farewell next time? Or should he treat it like other meetings, with the excitement to see each other again. Are we more than just acquaintances? Would it be strange if he asks you and Ennoshita to spend more time with him outside work?

Frankly, this had been a reality he never wanted to accept; that the next meeting will potentially be the last time he’ll get to work with you. The industry is so fast moving, he already has another job lined up for the next manga he’ll be editing, and it will be over 50 volumes long, which meant that even if you were to come up with another, he might not even be available for it.

For a moment, the apartment is unusually still, a stark contrast to the lively meeting that had just ended. Silence weighs heavily, but you allow it to sink, too bummed to fight it off. So you’re surprised when Akaashi attempts to dissipate it.

“Have you thought about the ending?”

Your brows furrow, suddenly feeling a lump in your throat, thinking back to the boy who began it all, under the warm presence of the setting sun. “Maybe, I have some ideas…”

You hate being nostalgic, but you realize you no longer designate a time to brainstorm and chat with Chikara, sadly wondering if he’s bothered by it; having Akaashi swoop in and take that away from him. No…he’s always been someone who’d go out of his way to help a stranger without expecting anything in return, he’s probably happy that you’ve come as far as you had.

“That’s okay.” Lifting your chin to the sound of his voice, soaring conflict in your mind calms to the sight of his timid smile. “You have some time, hopefully you’ll find something that really inspire your ending. Whatever it is, you have an amazing sense of judgement and I am sure it will be absolutely stunning.” His fiddling worsens, as he hope he had not come off too strong; he just wanted to express his believe in you.

And just like that, his comforting tide washes over your heated shore, soothing the stretch of searing rocks with its cool rhythmic ascension, like the rise and fall of a chest. Your furrowed brows relax and the lump in your throat dissolves, you feel fluid, like fine sand that slips through your fingers and on to bare feet in shy splatters.

With a smile, you respond with a nod. “Thank you, Akaashi.”

Standing up suddenly, before silence could re-materialize, you saunter to the kitchen, turning over your shoulder to smile at his confused expression. “I’m going to start heating up our food, Ennoshita-kun should be out anytime soon.”

He stands and follows you, socked footsteps barely making any sound on the wooden floor as he walks. “I can help.” You hum happily in response as you hand him one of the food containers to heat up.

Punching in the digits to your microwave, he leans against the counter as he watches you rummage through the fridge, occasionally rising to set containers on the marbled surface before kneeling back down to grab more.

Weekly meetings with you had meant so much more to him than he had anticipated, it was the first time he’d ever allowed editing sessions to be as untraditional as it had been; usually only keeping it to offices or restaurants, never at residences. However, your passion and genuine personality made it so easy for him to come out of his shell and converse more openly.

Every night when he’d return home from seeing you, he’d spend countless hours by the balcony, looking to the sparkling stars that scatter the sky like freckles, serenaded by wandering crickets and shy fireflies, with a notebook in hand. He lists the wonderful things he’d noticed about you and Ennoshita, and scribble short poems that he is a little too embarrassed to admit it is one. But just like your passion for drawing and Ennoshita’s interests in making short films in his spare time, writing is his way of encapsulating memory, to tell his own story.

Truthfully, he’s always wanted to work for a literature publication, but he can’t thank fate enough for introducing you and Ennoshita to him through this current job. His passion for literature had been adamant since he was in his adolescence, constantly blabbering attempted eloquence to his parents. As he’s gotten older, a small tree of fear roots his heart, afraid he would never find inspiration to write.

Until recently, that fear had subsided, as he would return from your meeting with a smile, eager to glide his fountain pen on the clean, stark pages of his dark blue leather journal, a present from you on his 24th birthday.

Once all the food had been heated and brought out to the coffee table in front of your small couch, Ennoshita finally emerges from his bedroom in a pair of grey sweatpants. “Sorry I took a while!” He smiles apologetically as he descends the stairs.

“No worries!! Dinner looks amazing, thank you for making it!” You respond, miming a chef kiss gesture at the food in front of you with a bright smile.

Ennoshita stops mid step, brows raised at your sudden burst of energy, slowly settling on a wide smile that gleams through his half lidded eyes. “Of course, Y/n-san. I hope there’s enough for the three of us.”

“I know I’m an unexpected addition, but thank you for letting me have some of your delicious cooking.” Akaashi’s eyes meet Ennoshita’s warm ones for a second, before it falters to the ground. His cheeks warm, and his expression may appear calm, but his fiddling fingers say otherwise.

Ennoshita’s eyes widen, suddenly feeling the urge to explode from the warmth that surfaces his subtly puffed chest. “I’m…I’m happy you enjoy them”.

“Akaashi-kun also brought some Yaki Tomorokoshi, so I think between your food, that, and my cake, we should be pretty good.” You add, hopping on to the center of the couch and bringing your knees to rest against your chest as you look to them, a remote in hand. “Would you be down for The Handmaiden by Park Chan-wook?” (This movie is so good omg, HIGHLY recommend watching it.)

They nod simultaneously, feeling the sofa dip significantly as they wordlessly join you on the couch, Ennoshita to your left and and Akaashi to your right. You giggle at how huge the two of them are in contrast to the tiny loveseat, turning around to unfold the fleece blanket and casting it over the three of you like a bird spreading its wings.

“We’re going to get food on the blanket!” Ennoshita jokes, folding the soft material so it only covers his back. You laugh, knowing full well that he would say that, but you did it anyway.

Meanwhile, Akaashi bundles the front of his blanket around him like a half burrito, silently reaching over for his Yaki Tomorokoshi, and holding it with both hands as he eats, eyes watching you and Ennoshita comfortably: This feels like home, under both your warm presence, and he cannot express his gratitude to finally meet someone that makes him so content.

Halfway through the movie, with all your empty dishes in the sink, the three of you are bundled under the same plushy blanket as the plot grows darker and darker with twists you’d never expect. You can’t help but dig your curled toes a little deeper into the cushion, while Ennoshita shifts toward the edge of his seat, as Akaashi leans further back, head resting against the back cushion. Three set of eyes, trained firmly to the illuminating screen with great intensity.

Then out of nowhere, you are hit with one of the hottest and most beautifully shot sex scenes you’ve ever seen. (Yea, like damn, it got me feeling things when I watched it 👀 If you’ve seen this movie, you know what I’m talking about.) Suddenly, the pressure to stop your eyes from diverging off screen becomes paramount, the three of you scramble to shackle your imagination before it scurries off to other lewd fantasies that extend beyond the movie.

Umm…is this where you joke about it to elevate the awkwardness? But dammit, the scene was too well done, you can’t think of anything silly to say.

You all visibly stiffen, suddenly hyper aware of the way your outer legs and shoulders touch, feeling your respective cores heat and breath hitch at the attempt to steady it. The couch suddenly feels like a bubble, frustratingly suffocating, as it confines the three of you in this tight predicament. But when you try to make yourself smaller, so your bodies are not in contact, your hands accidentally brush theirs, and you could not have pulled them away any faster than you had, mentally cursing at the way electricity courses through your skin like wildfire.

The little hand grazing accident heightened the tension, as Akaashi is no longer able to keep his quirk in check, instantly bringing clammy fingers to fiddle on his lap. Distracted by his movement, you were unaware of Ennoshita’s glance, quickly shifting back to the screen when you turn to him. Gosh, how he wishes he could at least give you a small kiss on your warm cheeks.

Gulping at how the sofa on-screen closely mimics the color of the one you are seated on, you will yourself from overthinking; it’s fine, your activities on it are as different as night and day. Totally fine…Puffing your cheeks like a goldfish, you exhale steadily, but the sound did not go unnoticed by two pair of glimpsing eyes.

In the movie, two characters kneel before one another, intoxicated in their share of yearning kisses for any care in the world. This short sequence drags on because the sexual tension in the air is as dense as hardened concrete.

Here’s the scene from the movie. I censored it out for u LOL.

You wonder…wonder how it would feel to draw them to your lips…Would they resist? Or would it shatter all this tension and bring forth clarity to the complication of your friendship. No…you shouldn’t be thinking these things, it’s wrong, so wrong, and your friendship is as clear as day…right?

But then you realize you may not be the only one with this curiosity.

If your friendship were purely platonic…what’s with the sexual tension?

The two men shift, playing it out as if they were stretching their sore muscles from poor posture, but it was actually a desperate attempt to subtly readjust their growing erections. You noticed, you totally did, and decides to take this opportunity to cross your legs tightly, relying on the soft blanket to shield your flexed inner thighs, sinfully enjoying the friction your denim offers with its thick seams.

Ennoshita’s and Akaashi’s mind are whirling as they try to come up with a solution to the potentiality of you noticing their growing members, thinking of different excuses, only to resurface with none.

Ennoshita debates if an excuse to the restroom would seem too obvious that he’s ridiculously turned on, while Akaashi wonders what Bokuto would do in this situation, since he’s always so up front and unabashed about most things. Then, by sheer accident, their eyes meet, cheeks instantly erupt in flames as they turn away non-subtly.

Is Akaashi also sporting an erection? Ennoshita wonders.

Is Ennoshita…really turned on by this too? Akaashi questions.

Meanwhile, you glance between the two, hand slowly creeping between your legs, pushing a little further into your throbbing crotch as awkwardness transform to heat.

Have you been misreading their signs? Had you been in their way this whole time? But you weren’t upset either, because the image of them, completely nude, in each other’s embrace, kneeling on the couch as their sculpted bodies merge under the soft glow of tungsten, back dimples kissed by the watchful moon, is unbearably, and ridiculously arousing.

You’re turned on by their flustered attempts at subduing their body’s natural response for sex, thankful your anatomy is not as outwardly obvious during arousal. Such gentlemen, refusing to acknowledge their mutual sexual desires.

A sudden craving for physical contact manifests as your eyes train to the television with a degree of intensity. But how should you approach this, and with who?

This is it, don’t think too hard. But were you really the one operating your thoughts? Or was it simply your mind being weary of your hesitance.

It didn’t matter, because your body had decided, hands snaking timidly outward, like a chick, spreading its wings for the first time. The stakes are so high, but you are already in the act, there’s no turning back. When your delicate fingers brush the back of their hands under the blanket, they jump at the sudden sensation of your tenderness, clearly aware that it is not a coincidence this time.

They turn to you simultaneously, lips agape and eyes widened in surprise, but you simply look between them with great curiosity, eyes so round and unintentionally coy, like a fawn meeting its pals for the first time, attempting to study their thoughts when you hesitantly hold them firmly, soft hands curling against their large palms, no longer calloused from the lack of volleyball practice.

Your lips open and shut before you stop it all together with your teeth, chewing nervously. So effortlessly alluring, like bright red rose petals, sinking and reemerging from clear water, so teasing and erratic, you just want to scoop it tenderly with both hands and draw it to your lips to still its motion. Their dark eyes are on you with a gulp, as you try to form words, but the only thing that escapes are short breathes; a cross between a sigh and desperate gasps, dying to hear some sort of response from either or them, feeling so stranded by your boldness.

And your thoughts are heard, when you feel both their large palms tighten around yours: Ennoshita’s a little clammy while Akaashi’s is shaky, but they relax you nevertheless.

“Y/n-san.”

Ennoshita breathes, cheeks incredibly warm as he mentally curses his tongue for slipping your name a little too soon. Then without a word, like the day when he was simply an eager boy trying to kiss you, he leans forward, soft eyes slowly flutter shut with every distance he crosses, relieved to see that you are also doing the same, and when you meet him in the middle, it’s as if your life had been on pause, finally discovering the courage to resume.

He smiles gently, bathing in immense satisfaction when your soft lips finally meets his plush ones in a featherlike kiss. Pressure taps at his hooded lids, tempted to burst in tears as he feels so relieved, so freaking happy to claim your lips. The kiss was so soft, like the legs of dancing butterflies, his broad chest rumbles in a low chuckle at the ticklish sensation that lingers on his smile, bringing his other hand to caress the side of your warm cheeks lovingly. He’s found closure, no longer able to imagine himself thinking back in “what ifs” to that moment, as he interlaces his long fingers with yours.

You pull apart, still drunken in disbelief that this is the same boy you went to high school with, the boy who sparked your career and had always been there for you. Then you’re suddenly overwhelmed by how much he’d grown into a man; jaws much sharper and features more defined, but the soft smiles he share with you had never changed, and that is how you know he’s still the same person you’ve fallen in love with from the very beginning.

He IS your Habiki.

But you snap back to reality when Akaashi’s palm loosens, a second away from slipping through your fingers, like a petal that had been whisked by the wind. Instead, you interlace his finger with yours, turning to look into his eyes intently. He’s caught of guard by your overwhelming attention, suddenly finding it difficult to swallow his thickened saliva from hoarding nervous breathes, heart banging frantically at the bursting blood and vessels that surrounds it.

Did he offend you? Should he leave? Her and Ennoshita are clearly meant to b-

Heat blooms in his cheeks, when you draw the back of his hand to your tender lips for permission, shattering his fragile facade as warmth flows out of his open heart like an erupted volcano, melting his entire being as he is tempted to sink further into your couch. However, his spine refuses to curl as it keeps him erect, helpless to its command like a marionette.

Should he kiss you? Is that what he wants? Or is he misreading your si-

His eyes were blank, as he never registered your face growing closer, and by the time he’d return to the present, he could feel your soft minty breath against his pointy nose, your long lashes cast a shadow over your vibrant eyes, robbing it of any glint as you look to his lips, then back up to his dilating pupils. His thoughts are cut short again when your lips brush his, testing the waves before fully submerging in his cool stretch of seawater, your lips are warm, in comparison to his cool ones, but the juxtaposition in temperature is stimulating.

You pull back a little, staring at his flustered expression that grew hungrier the longer he stares right back, you’ve stirred a tide that’s ready to draw you back with its beckoning dance. Then you’re back at it, harder this time, too drunken for each other’s magnetism to recall who was the first person to lean, as you bring the back of your entwined hand to brush at the area next to his fluttering lashes, so thick and alluring like fine owl feathers. Ennoshita watches you in fascination, thumb grazing the top of your hand; a gesture to remind you of his warm presence.

When you pull apart for breathes, Akaashi felt a surge of confidence as he sits up, green eyes drawing in Ennoshita’s brown ones, as he return his look with a blush, bringing his free hand to nervously rub away the warm tingles at his nape. Akaashi’s eyes falter timidly for a moment, before it returns with greater intensity.

No, he can’t back down, he needs to get this out in the open now.

“Ennoshita-kun…”

His eyes may appear calm, but his voice was merely a whisper that’s been thrusted into the silent atmosphere of the room, barely making it over soft mumbles from the movie that’s been long forgotten. He suddenly feels so small, like a lost kitten wailing for help, but he knows the tension had been slowly melting, and the only way to surpass this fully is by also taking initiative.

“May I kiss you too?” He asks, frankly unsure of how to initiate a kiss with someone that is not seated right beside him.

Both yours and Ennoshita’s eyes widen momentarily at his straightforwardness, before it curls into a small chuckle, finding his shyness endearing; seems like his calm demeanor was a defense mechanism to his awkwardness after all. 🥺

Was that too bold?

He was initially a little embarrassed, but is also relieved the tension in the room is close to gone.

Ennoshita brings his free hand to caress his cheek, gently drawing him over you and towards him with a smile. “I would love that, Akaashi-kun.”

And with his reassurance, they lean to one another in perfect synchronization, flushed lips colliding like the sun’s reunion with the horizon, their passion drizzling onto the water’s rippling surface in bursts of tangerines and scarlets. Someone who they thought were unattainable, no longer a reality as they hold each other firmly, hands coming up to entwine next to their moving heads, lips falling into a rhythm, as their defined jaws dance to their passion.

You feel heat rush to your cheeks as your core clenches in arousal at the sight of both your crushes, sharing an intimate moment right in front of you. It is like the fantasy you’ve recently envisioned as you were watching the movie, but this is even better than what the expanse of your mind is capable of picturing. What started as separate admiration, turns out even better when you see that they had also been struggling with the concept of mutual crushing.

They pull apart, but not fully, Akaashi gently tilts his head to lovingly brush the tip of his nose against Ennoshita’s lips, still too enchanted by his warmth to leave. Ennoshita’s heart flutters at his coy gesture, inhaling shakily when Akaashi looks up to his orbs, incredibly fascinated by the way his pupils dilate, consuming steel green rings like a beating heart. Then they simultaneously turn, catching you in the act of lingering gaze as you imprint the beauty of their attraction in mind, wishing that you had your drawing pad to capture this moment on paper.

“Y/n-san…” Akaashi begins, gaze shifting sideways as he scrambles to string words that describe his feelings, however, his own understanding was never fully apparent to begin. To his relief, Ennoshita glances at him before looking back at you, finishing his sentence.

“I like you a lot, Y/n-san. I’ve always had, since Karasuno. I regret not kissing you the week before graduation…but now that I get to be here with you, as someone more than just your roommate, I want to make it clear that I’ve always liked you.” Then he turns to Akaashi.

“Akaashi-kun….I enjoy all the times you’ve spent with us, I may not know you as well as y/n does, but I’ve always been drawn to you since training camp. I like you, and I’d love to get to know you better, no longer from a distance, but right here with you.”

He looks down to your entwined fingers, arms forming a circle, this is the moment he’d always dreamt of. “I still don’t know what’s going to happen after…but I want this kiss to be a start of something, a new beginning to our relationship…if it’s what you want.”

You melt at his genuineness…He always says the right words at the right time, a great trait of a leader, and that is why you never doubted his ability as the team captain after Daichi had graduated. He can hold your hands through the wildest thunderstorm, and you’d feel like he could protect you from the inevitable temperament of nature.

“I like you a lot too, Chikara. I always had.”

“I like you too, Ennoshita-kun” Akaashi responds, eyes widening slightly when he realizes he may have accidentally cut you off, but when he turns to look at you apologetically, you just laugh it of, visibly relaxing his shoulders to the sound of your voice.

Then like a synchronized flock of starlings, you and Akaashi place gentle kisses on Ennoshita’s cheeks, eyeing each other for his consent, before slowly trailing down his defined jaws then to his long neck, now with confessions out of the way, you’re craving something more physical. He resists the urge to scrunch his shoulders, both your breaths tickling him at once, instead, he tilts his chin with shuddery breathes, allowing more room for you to explore; sensation so overwhelming but this is only just the beginning.

“I’ve never been good with words.” You breath coyly, stopping in between kisses to nibble at the bottom of his earlobe where the vertical meets horizontal, earning yourself a gasp as his body tingles. “But let me show you how much I’ve always wanted you, Chikara-kun.” He shivers at the way your voice grow softer, slowly turning to air by the time you say his name; it reminds him of the goosebumps he’d get when wind howls between the cracks of his window, a lullaby so quiet but enchanting.

Instead of responding verbally, his eyes roll to the ceiling before it flutters his shut, exhaling soft shudders as he slowly leans back on the arm rest with the guide of your hand. Meanwhile, Akaashi remains silent, but his gestures speak the opposite; he wants to express the same message through his undivided attention and touches.

Neither of you expected this moment to escalate the way it did, perhaps it was the lingering sexual tension that hung freely for years, or it may be the movie that reminded you of how touch starved you all had been, but whatever brought you here, had happened for a reason.

Because this moment, right here, right now, is where you belong.

Kisses turn to touches, and touches turns to labored breathes when Ennoshita pulls back from his heated kiss with Akaashi, wet lips looking a little bruised from passion, as Akaashi’s eyes are still heavily lidded, gaze glued on his parted lips like it’s an addiction.

Meanwhile, you trail soft kisses down Ennoshita’s neck, lingering momentarily on his bobbing Adams apple, while your other hand slowly finds its way to his crotch.

“Do you want to go to my room?”

He asks between labored breathes, nodding towards the corridor you spent years denying each other’s attraction, feeling your teasing fingers edge dangerously closer to his throbbing member, painfully pressed against the confines of his sweat pants.

>>> PART TWO

Taglist (open): @shhhlikeme @ceo-of-daichi @karasu-hoes @super-noya @nonexistent-social-life @scorpiosanssexy @tedwardos

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dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years ago

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Death Road Pt 1

The tank sized All Terrain vehicle looked like an interplanetary rover rolling across a barren landscape. It was heedless in is straight track, crushing plants and cacti that had taken decades to grow in this unforgiving environment but only a few people cared for the destruction this alien invasion was visited on this place. The more important thing was destroying that threat that had crushed countless human lives. Were it allowed to continue to exist, it could threaten all of human existence. So such ecological damage was considered acceptable collateral. At the wheel, Lu Mingfei opened his mouth in an expansive yawn. Tigre was still awake and looking up and out the skylight. He’d seen the International Space Station fly by and was looking for it to circle back.

The desert night was extremely black. There were no human settlements for hundreds of miles in any direction. When it came to the United States, this was the most isolated of any place in the country. The air was extremely still and scarcely anything moved or made a sound save the growling engine of the massive tank.

His radio crackled to life. “This is Professor Manstein on the nightwatch. Lu Mingfei do you read?”

“I do read. Right now we’re still on our way at about 15 miles per hour. Temperature is at a stupid 85 degrees for this time of night and I’m sweating my ass off. What was the Gear Department thinking by not giving us AC in a fucking desert!” Lu Mingfei snarled into the CB radio. “Are they trying to kill me?”

Silence over the radio and then Manstein chuckled. “It sounds like you’re doing well. How is Tigre?”

“Tigre, do you feel anything?” Lu Mingfei looked at Tigre. The young man had removed his shirt to deal with the heat revealing thick dark scars across his muscular body. It reminded him of the character Zangief who regularly fought against bears to train for the tournament in the Street Fighter games.

He was key to this mission. Thanks to Toyama’s psychological Speech Spirit probing his mind, he’d led them to an extremely well hidden area of potential dragon activity. However, for such a high level mission, this one was unusual in its uncertainty. There was only the occasional reports of EMPs knocking out power to a sparse population and the tales from people crossing the desert of a route where people disappeared. It was very similar to reports about the Bermuda Triangle that were largely exaggerated and had nothing to do with dragons, so the School Board ignored it. With the visions received by Professor Toyama however, they couldn’t ignore this area any longer.

“Same as before. I just feel really happy to be here.” Tigre closed his eyes. “Like this is where I’m supposed to be.”

“We’re still about 3 miles away from the first EMP point on this road. No sign of any dragon activity and Tigre is normal... status...” Lu Mingfei paused in his description. Tigre’s psychological state could point the way to this new threat but even this was a shot in the dark. Lu Mingfei hadn’t told him this, of course, lest the monitoring end up skewed by the knowledge.

Mingfei had seen the vision that Toyama and sketched on a piece of paper. A massive tree growing out of the corpse of a dragon, a tree big enough to dwarf a jumbo passenger jet. But he could hardly believe the smallest tree could survive out here. He started to wonder if this was a wild goose chase. Or perhaps it was a hope of his. This was the first mission he was leading without the help of Chu Zihang and Caesar Gattuso and the responsibility was weighing on his mind. These people were in the same position he was when he first came to Cassell College.

The vehicle came to a stop at the first EMP point reported. This one was recorded by a satellite passing over. The EMP was strong enough to put out power for an entire city and was recorded as a military exercise, but there was no sign of any military installations here. Mingfei picked up his CB radio. “You girls okay back there?”

“Yes!” Three female voices responded simultaneously.

“Okay, we’re going to do our first ground survey, suit up and let’s go.” Mingfei put the vehicle in park and kept it running and undid his seatbelt. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Yes.” Tigre looked at him curiously. “I’m not going out?”

“No.” Lu Mingfei undid his seatbelt. “Your Speech Spirit is still unknown so you’re more useful as a last resort.”

“Last resort?” Tigre frowned. “But what if my Speech Spirit is useless?”

Lu Mingfei didn’t respond immediately. His thoughts cast back to the terrible power of Chisei Gen and Erii Uesugi. How Chisei kept his gravity bending Yanling secret until the end of the fight and how Erii Uesugi reserved her power until everything was hopeless in the Japanese Trench. Then he looked at Tigre. “You’re S-ranked. There’s no way. Stay put.” He pointed firmly to the floor of the truck. “That’s an order.”

“Yes sir.”

“If you need something, just radio.” Lu Mingfei checked the battery on his two-way and jumped out of the truck.

The girls were already filing out of the truck. They were all dressed in black fully hooded cloaks and armed with rifles. It was surprising because the last thing one would want to wear was the color black in a desert. But the color doesn’t just absorb sunlight, but also absorbs body heat, which keeps one cooler. At night in the lack of sunlight, the heat of their bodies were readily taken up by their black clothes. They looked like a group of cultists from a Dungeons and Dragons game.

Dragon embryos gave off electromagnetism that could interfere with signals and electronic equipment. A simple EMF meter was standard equipment for teams. They each turned on their meters. “We’re going to travel in groups of two, keep the vehicle in sight at all times. You can easily walk in circles without a reference point. Celeste, go with Porsche. Ruby, come with me. Keep talking over the radio so I can hear you.”

The team separated, each one walking on opposite sides of the truck. Two points of light distanced themselves from each other in either direction.

“How is Tigre?” Celeste’s voice came over the radio.

“Leave Tigre to me.” Lu Mingfei looked around at the flat landscape. He could see for miles. There was nothing here.

“What is up with him anyway?” Porsche sounded off first. “I know he’s S-ranked and all, but you guys act like he’s some wild animal. He seems like a normal guy to me.”

“I’m glad you feel that way, Porsche. He’s normal. As normal as me.” Lu Mingfei stared quietly into the distance. “I want you to treat him like a normal person, even if he’s not.” He turned and glanced at the truck then he turned back. “Moving 20 paces. Forward.” He counted his steps watching his monitor.

“We’ve got something!”

Mingfei’s eyes widened slightly. “EMF?”

“Yes, very strong. Getting stronger!”

“Celeste! Get back to the truck! Now! Now!” Mingfei turned on his heel and started running.

“The fuck is that?!”

“Shoot it!”

Mingfei’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as gunfire shattered the silence.

Behind him, a sudden roar rattled his ears. He felt a blast of hot breath and heard Ruby’s frantic, desperate screaming.

#Dragon Raja #Tigre

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xyzcekaden · 3 years ago

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🚍 unsuspecting sunday afternoon 🚍

by me, xyzcekaden! a pokemon fanfic about when the one you hate to love is made for you

How capable is the human heart now?

fandom: pokemon, gen 3, advanced generation characters: ash, may, steven stone in a “supporting” role ship: advanceshipping genre: romance, angst themes: friendship, pre-relationship, slowburn, 6+1 if you squint setting: modern, hoenn, pokemon universe lite word count: 4.6k rating: T

read it below, on ffnet, or on ao3!

A/N (9.7.201): So this has been in my drafts since about April 2020 😅 Sure, I'm happy to finally share something new with the small yet strong advanceshipping fandom; but more than that, I'm relieved this document can no longer taunt me with its incompletion, hahaha. Do let me know what you think! Especially with this opening formatting; I'm trying something new. :)

Nothing sensitive in the fic, but the characters are all adults so it felt fitting to rate it T. Title taken from the song of the same name by the Backstreet Boys, and its lyrics/sentiments are interwoven throughout. The narrative is inspired and framed by monstaxnight's anonymous ask. If you recognise it, it doesn't belong to me. Thanks for reading!

~~~

fall for someone whose body would start fires

On a Saturday, May asked Ash to come over the next day. “I need a second opinion on something,” she had said. “It’ll be super quick.”

Of course, ‘super quick’ means Ash has enough time to set his switch up on May’s gigantic living room tv and play a few rounds of his favourite fighting video game while she gets ready for something or another in her room. He always acts like he has better things to do than help her with her sundry weekly ventures, but they both know he’d rather do ‘nothing’ with her than ‘something’ on his own somewhere else.

“Okay, Ash, are you ready?” May’s voice rings out. “Yeah,” he answers distractedly, strategically button smashing.

“So I kept the jeans from this last outfit, but this top I just got two weekends ago and haven’t had a chance to wear yet,” May narrates as she exits her room. “I had the, frankly, brilliant idea of using the jacket from Outfit 1 and pairing it with those heels you paid for for my birthday, et voila!”

The clacking of heels stops at the entrance of the hallway. “What do you think?’

Ash redirects his attention to May. His avatar dies on screen, just like his voice dies in his throat.

“You, um, you look great.”

In actuality, May looks smoking hot, but that’s not new for either of them. His best friend is supremely attractive, and he knew it and had no problem acknowledging it normally. This time, however, May doesn’t just look physically great, she also looks like she feels like she looks great. He doesn’t know how much sense that makes; but there is decidedly something different, and Ash feels a strange sense of dread in his chest.

May beams, taking the inarticulate response in stride. “Well that’s a winning endorsement if I ever heard one! Now let’s just hope Steven has as great of a reaction.” She turns to one of the many full-length mirrors stationed around her condo and reviews the outfit with a critical eye.

This brings Ash out from his stupor. “‘Steven’?” he repeats as he sits up on the couch. “You’re going on a date?”

“It’s not a date,” May replies in a tone that clearly conveys that she would not be opposed to it turning into a date. “My dad is having dinner with an old business partner, and the guy’s bringing his son along, so me and Max were invited, too. We were kinda friends back when we were young, but it’s not like we’ve kept in touch or anything. I just figured I should make a good second first-impression… You know, for my dad’s sake.”

Ash can tell the last bit was just something she’s telling herself to rationalise why she’s trying so hard, and it doesn’t sit right with him. He slinks back down on the couch dejectedly and halfheartedly starts a new game.

He finds himself wondering how often they hung out and how much whatever-that-number-was-teenth impressions were worth. He hopes it’s a lot.

~~~

fall for someone who always runs from his kiss

“… And I was right! They were roommates!” May boisterously ends her story, almost losing her ice cream to physics as she wildly gesticulates.

They’re just strolling around the park that’s honestly nowhere near either of their apartments; but over the years, it became their park anyway. They didn’t even set plans to hang out today, but it kinda just happened―a recurring theme in their friendship, admittedly.

For his part, Ash hides a smirk with a lick to his own ice cream, not bothering to say or do anything to protect her treat. If she hasn’t learned by now, she never would. “Oh my god, they were roommates,” he deadpans instead.

May sends him an unimpressed smirk and lightly smacks Ash’s shoulder. He yelps. She yanks her hand back as soon as she realises, but the damage is done.

He blinks down at the cold, vanilla, rainbow-sprinkled stain before raising his gaze to meet May’s equally stunned one.

They stare in silence for a moment, then May cracks a conciliatory grin. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry?”

He shrugs it off easily. “I probably deserved it,” he says, making peace with the knowledge that his previous unwillingness to protect her ice cream from any accidents is the undoubted origin for his current poor luck. He nods toward the path. “Shall we?”

“We passed by a restroom a little bit ago. We can clean you up,” May disagrees, tugging on his arm in the opposite direction.

“‘S fine,” he argues as he tries to continue walking forward.

“Ash, it’ll stain!” She tugs harder.

“It’ll be an improvement!” He’s overpowering her, but not as easily as he’d like.

“Why are you being such a butthead about this!?” She’s pulling with all her strength now, this being a matter of pride to her at this point.

“Come on, May!” Ash heaves one last time.

They tumble head over feet onto the ground, but that’s not the reason Ash feels like his world has turned upside down.

May’s body weighs comfortably on his, his hands naturally settle on her waist with hers on his chest, and his brown eyes bore into her blues. Their ice cream has fallen… somewhere, but Ash doesn’t concern himself with that considering this is the closest they’ve been since they first met.

They’ve been toeing this line since then, too.

I’m gonna do it, he thinks to himself.

He closes his eyes.

He leans in.

May scrambles away.

Ash sits up and blinks at the sight of May’s confused, furious eyes. “Ash, what are you doing?” Her voice croaks like her throat is dry. It makes him clear his own before dumbly responding, “I was trying to kiss you.”

“Why??” she asks, her voice strangled. He pushes himself off the ground warily as he watches her hold herself, bite her lip, shake her head in a panic; and somehow in all of that, he understands.

“I thought it wasn’t a date.” Ash tries so hard not to sound accusatory, but her wince in response proves it didn’t work. It also proves his fear correct.

He turns, hiding as if the people walking by could discern his transgression and shame by the sight of his face alone. Besides, his mind can conjure up an image of her running away just fine on its own.

Ash notices the remnants of their impromptu outing splattered on the ground near his feet. He picks up what he can and stomps over to the nearest trash bin, throwing it in as hard as he can to let out some of his frustration.

He hopes he hasn’t gone and screwed everything up.

~~~

fall for someone whose lips belong to someone else

They don’t talk about it, and then it’s too late.

“Ash, this is Steven,” she tells him softly, as if it could make up for how it feels like the sight of her arms wrapped around the guy’s torso and his arm casually thrown over her shoulder assaults him every time he blinks.

“Steven Stone. It’s great to finally meet you. May speaks of you highly,” Steven introduces with a dignified air. Not pompous, no; he is just someone who was raised being told that he was going to do important things and who happened to believe it.

They shake hands, and Ash’s fingers feel cold, a marked contrast to how there’s something in his chest that’s burning.

Inside the restaurant, the waitress asks if a table is okay, and no one asks for a booth instead. In his seat, Ash is neither directly in between nor directly across from the newly-established couple, and he wonders if this is where all his luck went into.

Lunch goes better than expected.

Ash was prepared to hate the guy, but what is there to hate? Steven has a decent sense of humour, loves pokemon but loves rocks even more, and is COO of the biggest enterprise in Hoenn. He is a safe, sensible choice. This guy isn’t going to break May’s heart.

As the meal winds down, Steven offers to pay for everyone; but Ash still has his pride. In the end, he manages to negotiate paying for just his own plate and drink, knowing he has no right to battle for the privilege of paying for May’s.

He wouldn’t even do so on a typical occasion anyway; but as far as Ash is concerned, Steven’s presence throws all of the friends’ typical rules of engagement out the window.

They say goodbye and part ways in front of the restaurant.

A few steps later, Ash snaps his fingers as he recalls something. He turns around to remind May of their movie plans in a few days, and he is met with the sight of the couple sharing a sweet kiss on the corner while waiting for the light to change.

Steven could never break May’s heart, but he sure can break Ash’s.

Ash turns back and continues walking. He hopes May can remember on her own.

~~~

fall for someone whose touch is way too much

May insists that nothing has changed between them, but clearly something has because Ash doesn’t remember ever being so anxious about her proximity before.

He had always been aware of her, though. Always. When your first meeting is saving the other from getting run over by a tour bus, you quickly develop the habit of keeping track of where the person is at all times.

Between his athleticism and her natural proclivity towards tactileness, casual physical exchanges quickly became their norm: hugs and high fives, friendly elbows in the rib after a good joke and sharing a blanket as they watch a movie, (lingering touches on the shoulder and holding hands even after they’ve escaped a crowd… or did he make those up?).

They were controlled yet unmistakably affectionate markers of their relationship.

But now?

When she shifts one centimetre closer to him in line at the mall food court, he accidentally overpays by fifty pokeyen out of distraction. When she grabs his fork out of his hand to try a piece of his takoyaki, he jerks so hard at the contact that he spills his soft drink all over the table. When she pats him dry using flimsy food court napkins with a joke about ice cream in her voice and fondness in her eyes, he needs to claim a rapid-onset fever in order to give himself an excuse to cut their lunch short immediately.

These innocent touches have been an ever-present facet of their friendship since basically the beginning; and even when he realised he was in love, they hadn’t affected him like this.

Things are different now, despite what she says.

Well, maybe not things; maybe just him.

He had allowed himself to revel in their familiar touches when she was single because he could, because there was no one else that she was supposed to be able to make feel like this. Even if the feeling wasn’t meant for him, it wasn’t meant for anyone else either.

But now.

He can’t, in good conscience, allow his heart to rush and his smile to form and his hand to squeeze back. It wouldn’t be fair to May, not when she’s trusting him with her friendship and he’s taking more from her than that.

Even though he’d like nothing else than to keep that closeness, to go back to how it was between them before, this is the way it has to be now. He just hopes she can understand.

~~~

fall for someone he doesn’t want to feel for

On sleepless nights, he wonders when.

He knows the who, what, why, and how; but the when eludes him.

...

They were both breathing heavy, attention focused on the spot of the road where the girl would have flattened like a pancake if it weren’t for his quick reflexes and hero complex.

The clapping of a few passers-by snapped them out of their shock and into the realisation that he still had her protectively cradled to his chest.

They quickly broke apart, and he took the time to wave off the praise from the gathered crowd while she checked her purse to see if everything was inside.

“You got everything?” he asked after people’s attentions finally turned back towards their own lives.

“Yeah, I do,” the girl replied, and her voice was rather cheery considering the ordeal she just survived. (He would later learn that was her default.)

“Great,” he said, genuine yet awkward.

They continued staring at each other. The adrenaline from their brush with danger hadn’t worn off yet; his heart was still beating very fast.

“So, um, have a good day,” he bade after it was clear neither of them had anything more to say. He made to return to his errands, but a hand on his arm stopped him.

“You saved my life, and you’re just gonna walk away?” she asked incredulously.

He blinked at her. “I’ll be honest; I wasn’t aware there was an after-action protocol for this sort of situation.”

She was incredulous for only a second before she giggled at him. “The least I can do is buy you lunch to say ‘thank you.’”

“Well, I’ve never turned down a free meal,” he accepts with a grin.

She giggled again then stuck out her hand. “My name’s May.”

“Ash.”

...

No, it wasn’t then. Nor was it during the meal they shared, nor at the bar where they happened to see each other that weekend, nor while they were escaping from the bar fight that she accidentally instigated that night.

...

“Is this going to become a running gag? Will I have to constantly be saving you from trouble you unintentionally get yourself into?” Ash panted after he directed her to duck into a nearby alley.

“Hey, as far as I’m concerned, this automatically makes me the most interesting friend you’ve got,” May countered.

He took one extra second to check no one was following them then cut a glance at her. “I don’t know about you, but most of my friends have my number.”

She rolled her eyes with a smile. “Smooth.” They switched phones and exchanged numbers.

“Better memorize that by heart,” he jested as he handed her her phone back. “Don’t wanna waste your one phone call at the station just because you mixed up the last two digits by accident.”

“If the next time you hear from me is because I went and got myself arrested, just leave me to rot. I must have earned it,” she smirked.

...

Luckily, the next time one of them reached out to the other wasn’t to bail the former out of jail. May invited him to a pool party for her birthday, where he handily won a water balloon fight and impressed everyone by fixing the grill for their barbeque. Their friendship continued to progress naturally: movie nights that turned into impromptu sleepovers, brunches that turned into walks around town. Several shopping trips and video games and hikes later, they were each other’s best friends. It was basically inevitable.

So when? When would he have had the chance to fall in love with her?

...

“Hello?”

“Ash, you picked up!” she sounded surprised―happy, but surprised―and he winced. He knew he’d been blowing her off a little more often lately, but making her think he’d turn down her phone call?

“Heh, yeah, sorry about that,” he said, betting on the hope that she somehow implicitly understood everything he was apologising for. “Is everything okay?”

For an extended second, she was quiet, then she said, “I need to tell you something.”

His hackles rose, and he started grabbing his keys and putting on his shoes. Maybe she finally ended up in jail. “Where are you? I can be there in ten minutes, maybe twenty with traffic―”

She giggled, and he paused. That was her nervous giggle. “May?” he asked, still wary but not about to race out of his house with only his boxers on.

“No! No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just… Steven told me he loves me.”

His breath left his lungs.

“And I told him I love him back,” she continued.

All the adrenaline that had surged through his body only moments before completely left him at her words, and his limbs locked up instead. He felt cold.

“Hello?”

He didn’t even realise he had sunk to his knees until he meant to take a step back towards the couch. He just slumped onto his butt. “That’s―” He had to clear his throat. “That’s gotta be recent.”

He could slap himself. He sounded as dead as he felt. He tried again: “I mean, that’s great news, May! He’s a lucky guy. Yeah.”

She sighed with relief. Could Steven tell what her sighs meant over the phone? ”I’m the lucky one, I think,” she said happily, and that was his last straw.

“Heh, yeah, well,” he sputtered out, just to have something to say. “Listen, since you’re not in danger or anything, uh, you actually caught me at a bad time, so I gotta go. I’ll catch you later, yeah?”

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

“Wait, Ash! Before you go!”

He held back a sigh. “What’s up, May?”

“It’s just… You’re right; it is recent. You’re actually the first person I told.”

“I’m honoured.” He couldn’t help the sarcasm that spilled out, but he backtracked quickly. “I mean it. Thank you for telling me.”

“Of course, Ash; I tell you everything. At this point, it’s like I have to; nothing would ever feel real otherwise.”

He shut his eyes. He really couldn’t take this anymore. “I know what you mean. Same here.”

She made a cute sound, a quiet little ‘hmm,’ and that was when the first tear spilled out. “Alright, I’ve taken up enough of your time. I’ll text you later!!” she promised.

“Later,” he repeated, both an echo and a goodbye; and finally, blissfully, he ended the call.

...

When, when, when?!

That was supposed to be one of the sweetest moments of her young adult life, and she called on him―trusted him, even―to be happy for her. When did he get to the point where he couldn’t even do that? Instead, he recalls it now as he struggles to fall asleep, playing the memory at half-speed over and over again in his imagination, and all he does is hope.

He desperately hopes it’ll stop hurting so much.

~~~

fall for someone with the sweetest rebel heart

When he finds out he didn’t get the promotion he was vying for at work, there’s no one else’s comfort he sought but May’s.

“I’m sorry that happened, Ash,” May soothes as she rubs rhythmic circles into Ash’s back. They’re in her condo, noticeably nicer maintained than Ash’s flat, side by side on the sofa. It is the first time he’s let her touch him in weeks, and he really needs it. “At least now they know you’re interested? It might be your turn next time.”

Ash snorts but nods anyway. He’s usually the type to look at the bright side, but it would be an understatement to say that he is simply disappointed. After all the L’s he’s been taking in his personal life, he had been hoping at least something would go his way professionally.

May continues, “Just make sure not to let this setback actually set you back. Keep putting your best foot forward, and I know you’ll win those guys over… just like you did with me!” She ends with a wink, trying her hardest to inject some levity into the situation.

Just like that, Ash’s mood sours even more. “You can’t say that to me, May,” he angrily replies as he shuffles out of her hold.

“What are you talking about?” she pouts as she feebly tries to get him to lay back against the couch so that the cold air can’t get under the blanket they are sharing.

“I didn’t ‘win you over,’ clearly.” He shrugs off her touch and scoots away. He has spent so long trying to keep his bitterness inside, but he doesn’t have the emotional wherewithal to regulate himself right now. He’s tired of trying to get over things that make him upset.

May frowns, the furrow between her brow getting deeper as she sits up straight on the sofa. “Ash, why are you talking like that? I meant, like, how we became friends, obviously. I didn’t grow to love you by accident.”

Ash stands then, balling the blanket up and throwing it back on the couch. “I bet Steven wouldn’t be too happy to hear you say that.”

She follows suit, her voice elevating in volume as if to match. “I bet Steven wouldn’t appreciate being judged by someone who’s only met him once―despite my efforts otherwise, might I add.”

“I bet Steven would love to hear his girlfriend say she loves another guy.”

“I bet Steven isn’t dumb enough to think I can’t love you both.”

“You don’t love me, May!” Ash finally explodes.

He has never raised his voice like this, not to her, but he’s tired. He’s tired of loving someone he can’t have, he’s tired of hating himself for it, and he’s tired of the guilt when he takes it out on her despite all his attempts not to.

She looks like she’s torn between yelling right back or kicking him out; and before she could make up her mind, he collects himself enough so he could bring his voice down. He states simply, “Not the way you love Steven.” Not the way I love you.

He doesn’t say it, but he can tell she hears it anyway. He clears his throat and turns around, trying to hide without running away. “Hearts don’t work like that,” he murmurs into the room.

He makes to leave, but May’s hand on his shoulder stops him. She forcibly turns him back to face her, and Ash is shocked at the determined set to her face. Her eyes, bluer than a water stone and twice as powerful, hold him as captive as they always have. “You listen to me, Ash Ketchum.” Her tone brokers no argument. “If you thought for a second that I stopped loving you because I fell in love with Steven, you clearly underestimated what my heart is capable of.”

Her grip on him tightens, as if making sure he is still with her in the moment. “It’s big enough for the both of you; and if that’s not the way hearts are supposed to work, then I’ll just be the exception that proves the rule.”

She pulls him into a hug then, like locking that promise between them, and he dares let himself hope she means that.

~~~

fall for someone whose heart needs sewing up

Ash wasn’t expecting a knock on his door this late at night, and he definitely wasn’t expecting to see a beautifully made up May Maple standing in the hallway, mascara-tinged tears and runny nose notwithstanding.

"Steven is moving to Alola to support Devon Corp’s expansion," is all she said, but even that much is hard to make out through her watery voice.

The news sinks in, and Ash’s heart feels like someone moved it three centimetres to the left: still there, still functional, but not at all where he needs it to be.

"You’ve always talked about going to Alola," is the only way he could respond, thinking of all the times they’ve imagined taking a week off and vacationing in the tropical region. He won’t, can’t let himself think about anything else or else he’d break down.

In his heartbreak, he cannot recognise May's tears, which are too raw and too loud to be that of someone bearing regrettable news. These are the tears of a confused, broken heart.

"Ash, I'm not going," she sniffles, still stiffly standing outside his door. "He asked me not to."

Finally understanding that he misunderstood, Ash is even more disoriented than he was before. "Why would he do that?" he asks, obviously still trying to wrap his mind around what the hell was happening.

"I don’t know!" May yells while clenching her fists and stomping a high-heeled foot. It is the most movement she's made since he opened the door. "I demanded a reason, and he spewed nonsense at me! He said―" and she stops. Her whole body slumps back into stillness but without the stiffness of before. She continues quietly, "He said he didn’t want to see what I’d look like with my heart so far outside of my chest," like a guilty confession. Ash is at once reminded of their almost-fight a month ago, and he still isn’t sure what this all means.

He almost asks, Why wouldn’t he believe your heart was right where you were? or How capable is the human heart now? but he doesn’t.

Instead, he finally welcomes May inside. He sits her on the couch and helps her take off her heels before she wraps herself up in the blanket he keeps there―a blanket he only has, he remembers, because when she first visited his apartment, she insisted his couch needed one. She doesn’t just hold the blanket around her shoulders; she hides her entire frame within its folds. He merely sits on the couch next to the lump and places a solitary hand on top, unsure where it was resting yet hoping it is providing comfort nevertheless.

He wonders if May ever let Steven see her like this, the way she needs to shut out all stimuli as if to physically recreate her darkest moments. He wonders why he loves that she does that, even though it causes him so much selfish pain to be close enough to see her like this but shut out from her healing.

"I don’t think I have a boyfriend anymore," May says at length, voice dampened by the space and fabric between them.

It would have been the happiest news of Ash’s adult life if it weren’t for the extreme melancholy that laced her tone as she said it out loud.

He squeezes his hand into a fist on top of the blanket, his signal that he’d like to hug her if he could.

"I would have missed you if you left." Ash gives a nonsequitur-confession in response. May burrows deeper into the blankets and says nothing.

Instead, she reaches a hand out from a heretofore unseen opening in the fabric and holds on to his other hand tightly.

Ash stares at her slender knuckles, made paler from her firm grasp, and stops hoping.

He gently plies her fingers from his palm and tries not to feel guilty about the shocked, embarrassed way the hand pulls back into the blanket as he leaves her there.

The love of his life needs compassion right now. This is not his opportunity to sweep her off her feet; this is not his second chance.

He returns from the bedroom, settles back into his place on the couch, and forces May out of the blanket.

~~~

May jerks her head up, shocked and angry and still embarrassed from her rejected attempt to seek Ash’s comfort, but she is quickly mollified into confusion. The expected sight of Ash’s lit up form in his lit up living room ends up being no different from the blackness from which she thought she was rudely taken.

It is so dark under the extra, larger blanket that she can’t even see Ash’s nose even though she can sense his head is mere inches from hers.

His hands find hers in the darkness and squeeze. Relief flashes through her as she finally surrenders to the deep, thick slice of heartbreak.

May wants to see his face, but she settles for a hug.

#pokemon #pokemon fanfiction #advshipping #advanceshipping #ash ketchum #may maple #aamaylove #satoharu #unsuspecting #xyzc*

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purplehairedwonder · 4 years ago

Text

Hearts With(out) Chains Chapter 12

Fandom: One Piece Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Gen (eventual Lawlu) Words: 4629 Characters: Trafalgar Law, Monkey D. Luffy, Nami, Chopper, Usopp, Brook, Zoro, Nami, Franky, Smoker, Tashigi, Doflamingo Notes: I’m taking my turn at the Corazon!Law AU because my brain won’t leave me alone until this is written down. Tags will be updated as the chapters come out.

The story title is based on the Ellie Goulding song “Hearts Without Chains.”

The nickname Doflamingo uses for Law in this chapter is a nod to the story “Worth” by Doctor_Cyance.

Warning: This chapter contains the description of a panic attack.

Summary: Law is reclaimed by the Family when he's 17 and, with Doflamingo holding the lives of his crew as collateral for his good behavior, eventually becomes the third Corazon. Years later, trapped by his impossible situation, Law finds a strange connection to Monkey D. Luffy, which offers a glimpse of something he's repeatedly had ripped away from him: hope.

Previous chapters: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11