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rune-writes · 1 year ago

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Ash Like Snow

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV

Word count: 2367

Rating: G

Summary: Nayra has never seen snow. Her friend once describe it to her as "white little flakes falling from the sky. Like frozen rain, except softer". But now the moon has cracked, its pieces piercing the land which results in thick waves of aether that renders the realm nigh unlivable. Nayra stands at the precipice of this new world as ash rains around her. It looks like snow.

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~

Ash fell from the sky. It looked like snow.

Nayra covered her eyes and peered through the foliage. It had been a year since the calamity and yet the sun was still a pale smudge of what it once was. They said a thick layer of aether had enveloped the star’s atmosphere, distorting light and color to a sickly purplish glow that made her stomach turn. It turned now, driving Nayra to her knees as bile rose up her throat.

The vomit didn’t come. What did come was a pounding headache threatening to split her head in two.

Nayra…

A faraway voice, faint and familiar, reaching forward in tendrils…

Mother?

A gasp tore out of her.

Nayra breathed, gulping large doses of air as her chest heaved with exertion. Sweat coated her brow and tears rolled down her eyes. Grass had never felt so soft before. But her arms quickly ached. Slowly, she rolled onto her back and dropped an arm over her eyes. Breathing. Just…breathing. In and out. Letting her lungs fill until her chest shuddered and she couldn’t take in another breath.

***

The trek across Vylbrand was more taxing than she remembered. The sun beat down her back as she dragged one foot in front of the other up the sloping hills of La Noscea. The air was immensely fresher here. Salty wind brushed against her face, and in the distance, windmills turned in a steady rhythm. She spotted people working in the fields—yellow stalks amongst trees bearing apples and oranges. It was harvesting season, it seemed, judging from the carts lining the farm. But they were few; the yields weren’t much.

One of the workers, having placed a crate of oranges on the cart, paused, wiping her brow and fanning herself when she noticed Nayra passing by. “Hey,” she called. Nayra stopped, looked around, then pointed at herself. “Yeah you. Come here.” Nayra did as she was told, albeit a little questioningly. “Had any breakfast yet? Or lunch, for that matter. The sun’s already quite high up.”

“Not yet, no.”

“Here then.” The woman tossed her an orange, then two more. “We got a lot of them. Wouldn’t hurt to miss a couple.”

She said ‘a lot’, but a cursory glance told Nayra three barely-full crates were all it took to harvest their entire orchard. She couldn’t readily say no, even more so when her mouth watered, so she accepted, and said, “Thank you…” But then her stomach churned at the thought of eating.

The woman might have noted her discomfort because she then called for another to bring some bread and water. Nayra tried to refuse, said the oranges were more than enough and was already backing away when a Roegadyn twice her size appeared behind her and told her—or forced her, more likely—to sit on the cart. The bread and water arrived soon after and Nayra suddenly had a lavish meal laid out in front of her.

“Poor thing,” the woman said. She leaned against the wooden fence, looking Nayra up and down and giving a little tsk at the end. “You’re naught but skin and bones.”

“Eat up,” the roegadyn said. “There’s plenty of that where they come from.”

“I couldn’t…”

“Not sure how long you’ve been on the road,” he went on, “but least we could do is help each other in these uncertain times.”

“Where’d you come from?” the woman asked. “We don’t see a lot of your kind here. Seekers, yes, but not Keepers.” She paused at Nayra’s silence. “The Shroud then?”

Nayra dropped her gaze. She could feel pity dropping on her like a stone when the woman spoke next:

“Sorry for your loss, deary. Heard it’s got the worst damage out of all of us.”

“Closest to the Flats, aye,” added the roegadyn. “An entire region wiped off the map.”

The woman shook her head. “Wonder if we’ll get our lives back,” she said. “La Noscea’s been spared the worst of it but we still got our scars. Crops’re dying left and right. Land hasn’t been the same.”

“Neither’s been the water. Ah, but don’t you worry your head, lass. Them folks at the smithy’s been handing out water distillers so yours should be as fresh as Fool Falls.” He nodded at the flask proudly like a father showing off his son.

Nayra stared at the flask, then the oranges, then the bread.

“You heading somewhere, lass?” the roegadyn asked.

She finally broke the bread and took a small bite. “Nowhere,” she replied.

***

Her family used to travel a lot. A traveling merchant, some called them. Her father, though born and raised in Thavnair, had spent a handful of his late teen years in Ul’dah where he’d learned to trade. Her mother, though, was a simple huntress from the Shroud, her tribe making its home deep in the western side near the mountains of Mor Dhona. They’d met and fallen in love and as traveling had always run deep in her parents’ veins, after they'd had her, they’d immediately set out for the road.

Nayra would boast about all the places she’d been to. From the green mountains of Coerthas to the sprawling desert of Thanalan, the sparkling Silvertear Lake of Mor Dhona and fiery mountain of O’Ghomoro. La Noscea had been her favorite place to visit. Pirates and traders from all corners of the star merged and mingled in a city where cultures clashed and assimilated. Her heart had soared at the sight of open seas, and once, when she stood at the precipice of a jutting rock over a beach that glistened like gold, she’d spread her arms and wondered if she could fly.

“Silly,” a friend used to say. “Of course you can’t fly. You have no wings.”

“What if you can fly without wings?”

“On an airship maybe. But they’re too expensive.”

Nayra frowned. She picked at the ghysahl green leaf and offered it to the chocobo chick, coaxing it to eat from her hand instead of Raha’s. It didn’t even glance at her.

Raha chuckled.

“Have you ever seen snow?” he suddenly asked.

“No.”

“You might like it—those white little flakes falling from the sky. Like frozen rain, except softer.”

“Sounds cold.”

“But pretty.”

“And cold.” The chocobo chick had finished its meal. It took a step back then ruffled its feathers, which were red like his hair. Nayra grabbed a mimett gourd from their basket this time because the chick seemed to love it, but when Nayra held out her hand, it only looked at her, took a sniff, before yawning and moving away to join its mother at the stables. Nayra’s frown deepened. “Just like that little guy.”

Raha let out a chest-rumbling laugh. “If your travels bring you to Sharlayan one day, be they by air or sea, let me know so I can show you snow.”

***

She heard it before she felt it: a rumble from deep within the star. Nayra stopped in her tracks, hand shooting out to grab a nearby tree as the first quake hit the ground. O’Ghomoro was erupting. In the distance, beyond the verdant leaves and towering cliffs, smoke rose some hundred yalms tall.

It ended soon after it began. Nayra waited for a few seconds longer, staying low near the ground until the quake ceased. When the beasts stopped their frantic escape, she knew it was safe to move. But the moment she rose to her feet, a hum pulsed across the forest that almost brought her back to her knees.

“Stop it…” She gritted her teeth. Her stomach turned; her eyes saw fire.

The bleeding sky flashed across her mind. She remembered the flaming starshower; heard the screams that pierced her ears. When she'd reached where her tribe should have been, a giant inferno had engulfed every root and tree and stone and pebble.

Light blinded her for a fraction of a second as Nayra’s eyes slowly peeled open. Her pupils flinched and contracted before they adjusted to the glare, her hand going up to cover her eyes. She waited until the nausea dissipated—until she could push herself to her feet where she swayed for a handful of moments before finally regaining her balance. The forest had returned to its usual noise as though nothing had happened and Nayra hadn’t collapsed for the second time that day.

Aether sickness, they said. No few people had developed it after Bahamut laid waste to the continent, but sometimes Nayra wondered if she had the worst of it.

Thick clouds had gathered in the sky. But there was no thunder or wind. The air was hot and tasted like ash. Yet when the first gray flakes fell around her, it wasn’t her burning home that came to mind. It was that mundane morning when she’d crouched in front of a chocobo chick trying to feed it greens.

Have you ever seen snow?

Nayra frowned. Maybe, once upon a time, she had entertained the idea that ashes were snow. It was a passing thought which had earned a laugh from Raha. They were flakes and they were soft, except they were gray and hot to the touch.

Nayra banished the thought away, adjusted her bag over her shoulder, and made to move. That’s when she heard it—a distant cry, faint and familiar:

Kweh!

Nayra stopped in her tracks, turned her head toward the source of the sound, and strained her ear to listen. Silence greeted her. She waited a couple more seconds but the only things she heard were the twittering birds and grazing animals. She scoffed at herself. There were no wild chocobos in Eorzea, let alone Vylbrand. Whatever she’d heard probably had a master and a home. She set to move, only to be stopped once again by a shrill cry, and somewhere deep inside her, she knew that if she didn’t go and see what it was, she’d regret it forever. So Nayra changed her course and headed deeper into the woods.

It came from a collapsed building. Nayra spotted a pack of pelicans already closing in around it. A few yalms away lay a red chocobo carcass, its sides a gaping maw of where the scalekins had probably been feeding themselves. And now they’d set their sights on the cries of what Nayra assumed to be a chocobo chick's.

Her bow was immediately in her hand, an arrow nocked and trained on one of the pelican's necks. She let the arrow fly.

The pelican screeched. It bucked and reared and gave a frantic flap of its wings before tumbling down on its side. The second pelican whipped its head and in the span of less than a millisecond, it had directed its beaky face at Nayra. It lunged forward with a cry.

One arrow hit its ankle, another to its chest. Nayra drew her dagger and, rushing forward, slashed at the giant bird’s neck. It fell to its knees, blood gushing out of its gaping wounds. Nayra watched its life slipping out. Its eyes grew dim, its beaks opened and closed in a last attempt to breathe.

So weak, she thought of the pelicans’ dead bodies. They were nothing but skin and bones, looking for food which Nayra meant to save. How else could her frail form have bested two grown pelicans?

She cleaned her dagger before shoving it in its sheath then pulled her arrows from the pelicans’ remains and stashed them in her quiver. Turning her gaze to the dead chocobo, she kneeled and offered what prayer she could. Whether or not the gods heard, she didn’t know, and didn’t quite care. It was a force of habit. Though Nayra had told herself she’d let these traditions go, a part of her found solace in it, and she hoped it'd find the chocobo too.

Getting back on her feet, Nayra trained her eyes on the pile of wooden logs beyond the dead pelicans. It had probably been a hunter’s shack once upon a time, long unused ever since the calamity took its toll on the island. How there was a chocobo out here in the wild was beyond her. Maybe the hunter had died, leaving his chocobos behind. Maybe he’d forgotten them when he made a run for it.

Truth be told, it didn’t matter. The crying, which had stopped during the fight, now resumed, as though the chick knew help had come.

Nayra stepped over the pelicans and headed over to the shack. She dropped to her knees and began clearing away the wood. One by one, lifting and tossing with all the strength she could muster, until finally the final log was out of the way, and she found a baby chick roughly three moons old settled between two planks supporting each other. Its crying stopped. The chick looked at her with beady eyes.

Have you ever seen snow?

Its feathers were a softer shade of crimson; a far cry from what snow should look like. She offered her hand, watched it edge tentatively closer as it sniffed and pecked her hand. Part of her though it might turn away like a chocobo chick she once knew. But the chick remained, raised its head as if to judge Nayra’s intentions, before it leaped out of its shelter and gave a happy, excited ruffle of its feather.

“Kweh!” it said as if in greeting.

Unbidden, a lump formed at the back of Nayra’s throat. She’d thought to bring it to the closest settlement, let the villagers there raise it as how they should. But seeing it purr against her palm made her chest tighten and Nayra could see no way she could part with it.

“Snow,” she said as gray flakes fell around her. Like frozen rain, except softer.

Tears sprang to her eyes as a smile fought against the stiffness of her face. The chick leaped into her arms, eliciting a strained half-laugh from her. Its beady eyes now didn't look so foreign anymore.

“You remind me of someone…” she went on.

Nayra brushed its feathers with the tip of her finger, feeling it dry and clumping together. It needed a bath. And so did she.

~ END ~

#ffxiv #warrior of light #graha tia #final fantasy xiv #ff14 #final fantasy #final fantasy 14 #fanfiction #ff fanfic #ff14 fanfic

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m34gs · 1 year ago

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For the ask: 12, 13, 14, 20!

Thank you for the ask, friend! From this ask game. No specific fandom or media, so if media is necessary for the answer I will choose the most applicable one for me for each question!

Alright, this got away from me a little. Under the cut she goes. Warnings for: murder, serial killers, true crime, Jeffrey Dahmer, and some very very very abominable behaviour that makes my gut churn and my blood boil.

12. the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

I don't know if I pay close enough attention to what fandom dislikes to know which characters are unpopular, I kind of just hang out in the spaces that have the things I like, so I may be like "Oh this character is super popular" and it's like no...no Meags. they're not. It's just that you followed five blogs dedicated specifically to that character in the past three days so you're seeing a lot of stuff about them.

If I had to pick one that I *think* would be unpopular, that I like, it would be Inca Kasugatani from Fire Force. I think people don't like her because she's completely self-centered and just wants that adrenaline rush; she just wants that thrill of whether or not she will survive. I think this is an interesting trait to have in a character and one that is not explored near enough in female characters. I find it a bit refreshing, especially that she followed what seemed in alignment with her character and chose the side that seemed more exciting to her. So many times a character will be set up as 'this person only pursues what they want' only to make some weird choice that doesn't align with their wishes, but shows no development up to that point, leaving me to wonder where the heck that choice came from.

We know I love an unhinged fictional character, and Inca is no different. She's coldblooded and does not care what others think. Don't get in her way, because you will not walk away unscathed.

I would never want to force someone to like a character, or to make someone feel like they have to justify not liking a character. I do feel like she would get more love if she was a boy (I can list a plethora of male characters who are self-centered, thrill seekers, cold and low or no empathy who are loved by the masses; I pay enough attention to fandom for that) or if she was on the side of the protagonist, or both, but that doesn't mean everyone has to like her or else they're being sexist or whatever. I don't really care that much if other people like her or not. I just think she's fascinating and I want to see what else she does.

13. worst blorboficiation

Hmm. Well, typically what I dislike is when characters who are complex and dynamic get boiled down to one character trait. That being said, with fiction I tend to try and live and let live.

Real people however? Oh that will get me. That will tick me off. Ignoring for a moment that I kind of find the "blorbofication" of real living people in general just distasteful, I'd have to say the one that gets me actually riled up, the one that disturbs me the most, is the "blorbofication" of Jeffrey Dahmer. Yeah, you heard me. People are out here treating real serial killers like they're some sort of fictional character to thirst over or call their "precious little meow meow". I don't care so much what people do with fictional characters, but if you're gonna glorify and thirst over a man who brutalized actual living people? Disgusting. Difference between serial killers and fictional characters? Uh, fictional characters don't hurt real people. It's just sickening. They sell merch with his face on it. Some call him "daddy"; I've seen the freaking tiktoks. Sickening. Disgusting. Makes me rather uneasy with the True Crime as a whole. Like, at least have the decency to treat the subject of True Crimes with respect and solemnity it deserves. The victims were real fucking people, ffs.

I don't hate all true crime; documentaries, reading articles, etc, I don't hate on the topic as a whole, and I even read and watch my fair share, the true crime fandom is not all bad, but you gotta treat the victims and families with RESPECT. You gotta recognize that some of these victims...their families, THEIR MOTHERS. ARE STILL. ALIVE. How would you feel if one day you're doing ok, you've finally managed to move forward with your life, and even though you miss your SON WHO WAS MURDERED, you can still live...and then BAM. Some asshole is wearing his murderer's face on a t-shirt like he's part of some fucking boy-band. How gross.

14. that one thing you see in fics all the time

"This character is the mom (gender neutral) and this character is the dad (gender neutral) and the rest are all their children" - this dynamic isn't *bad*. It's just done a lot. Don't get me wrong, I do love it as a found family dynamic. But I would love to see more "these two are clearly siblings and this is the feral child that pretends not to care but secretly does and these are the gay uncles and here's the vodka aunt and there's granny with her multiple lesbian wives" or "this one is clearly The Child and everyone else are the Responsible Older Siblings because they CANNOT be left unsupervised EVER" or something different once in a while. A family doesn't have to be "mom" "dad" and "kids". It can be so much more.

20. part of canon you found tedious or boring

Naruto - the flashbacks. So many flashbacks. Often the same flashbacks. Flashbacks *within* flashbacks. Enough. I get it. There's an important scene you want us to associate with this moment. But we already are. I honestly would zone out during some of them because they were just so long.

There you go, there are my answers! Thanks for asking. Hope you find them interesting :)

#asks #ask games #choose violence ask game #my opinions #naruto #fire force #found family #trigger warnings:#controversy #murder #serial killers #jeffrey dahmer #true crime

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mirrorred-star · 2 years ago

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Whumpuary Hiatus

Whumpuary is postponed for the following reasons:

I'm really close to running out of ideas for fics. I have two days, my prepared alts, and then I'm stuck for almost two weeks. And because I know I'm on a time limit, it's really hard for my brain to chill enough to come up with how to tackle prompts that aren't really up my alley. I am writing so much shit, guys. Like, writing badly shit. I'm typing everything up in Wordpad, so I'm not working with native spellcheck or auto-correction (for slightly complicated dumbass reasons). I'm not doing a proper rereading pass before posting things. Some of the fics posted are pointless. The first part of the Death Note fanfic needed to be cleaned up, and I didn't because I wanted it done so I could move onto the next thing. I can do a lot better, and you don't deserve your time wasted by reading things that I could have done better with.

All I am doing with every day, now that I have no fic buffer, is write, doing something else on my computer to give myself enough mental space to fix what's wrong with the fic, make myself food, eat food, accidentally spend too much time on the internet, do something else entirely because I need a break from writing or housemate wants to socialise, and sleep. All I have been thinking about is fic. This is probably not good.

Posting at midnight or 2am started to become a fix for the 'accidentally spending three hours on tumblr' issue, which is also… not great.

I haven't been able to set up my tumblr properly and friend more people there because all I've been thinking about has been writing fic or worrying about… fic, or tagging properly, or more fic.

I've been thinking of moving the sickos-yes show to a sideblog to make it easier for people who don't want to see it and want to pretend that I don't do that, and also in case I miscalculate and get the account nuked. I wanted to finish whumpuary first but the more things I post for whumpuary the more likely it is that I'll accidentally get noticed by the kinds of people who might want to try to get my account nuked or just make tumblr very unfun.

I've achieved even more than what I set out to do - I've posted every day for two weeks, I've freely written the horrible things that I like writing about enough to want to keep writing, with the side effect of maybe figuring out what I need to do to fix the vampire novel that I've been trying to write good since 2008*, generating a small hutch of horrible plot bunnies, and figured out more background for the two original canon fics I wrote. And it is probably a much better use of my time to work on the vampire thing or the rpg or making the other thing reasonably presentable than to push myself to churn out another 16 mediocre-to-bad fics before not wanting to touch the keyboard for another two months.

*for the umpteenth time. I'm feeling cautiously optimistic, but every time it seems like the fix will work and then it doesn't. I think I have it, but I won't know until I write the thing.

I don't know if I'll come back to it or not - it'd be nice to complete it, but the pressure of trying to find a new fandom for everything, even though that's probably the most unnecessary limit for a fic writing exercise ever, is a lot. It might be easier to come up with fics for prompts after I've given myself some time to just watch stuff and read stuff and play stuff.

#long post #whupuary2023 #my posts

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hella1975 · 2 years ago

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heyyy hellaa, please tell us your favorite fics of all time, from any fandom, because i wanna know what makes your brain go vroom !!

WOULD LOVE TO OKAY:

haikyuu:

three sheets to the wind by fairycake - we have sakuatsu we have found family we have pirates we have a surprisingly coherent balance of plot and fun times we have a prank war we have miya twins content we have idiotic background sunaosa we have PIRATES there is literally nothing to dislike here when i read the description of this fic i thought it would just be dumbassery but it wound up being so much more and i got so attached so quickly and the ending was just so heartfelt if i could read this again for the first time i would

burden of blame by deathbelle - OUGH the writing of this one is just. jesus christ. atsumu's characterisation? kiyoomi's characterisation? protective miya twins? the miya twins interactions themselves? if you took away the yakuza angle id be CONVINCED this was all canon bc the author just Gets the characters. maybe my fav sakuatsu fic ever

the courtship ritual of the hercules beetle by kittebasu - iwaoi have entered the chat!!! one thing about me is i LOVE a good recurring metaphor, but a super niche one when you can tell the author knows their shit? respectfully i am drooling. this fic is just so raw and real and it really hit home for me and even to this day when i see it im all !!!!!! a must-read for anyone in the haikyuu fandom

jaywalkers by batman - multi-ship but im gonna say it was more gen for me than anything idk if that's just bc none of my big ships were in there (aside bokuaka <3) or if i just latched onto the gen aspects but yeah u really dont need to ship any of the couples in this to absolutely be blown away by this. like holy fucking shit. this is my last haikyuu rec but it is also my first and quite possibly my favourite fic of all time. if you read anything from this whole list, read jaywalkers. i have never had a fic impact me the way this did and ive never come back to a fic so many times as i have this one bc im very much one of those people that once ive read something i dont get much enjoyment from rereading it no matter how much i like it. but idk something about jaywalkers has me in a complete fucking chokehold and has done since i read it over a year ago. the way this author writes is just so effortlessly human? like it's funny and realistic and messy and in-character and BECAUSE it's got so much dumbassery it really hits you out of nowhere when the deeper shit comes in, but it still works perfectly. ive never seen a writer so perfectly capture humanity before. whenever im struggling to flesh characters out, i return to this work and see all the effortless ways this author does that, whether it be through kei's headphones or kuroo's hair or oikawa's chameleon or every tiny tiny detail that is important enough to warrant a mention bc it's what makes these characters real. im just. god. yeah. also the final author's notes actually made me tear up

jujutsu kaisen:

found in translation by hiraethia - kai kai kai kai. GOD all of kai's fics absolutely gut me but this one just really stuck with me. kai's got such a specific writing style where she just makes really poignant and beautiful metaphors flow very easily, so it's never jarringly deep until you actually take a second to think about what you just read and you're like what the fuck and then it very much IS that deep, and that means kai gets a perfect balance of fluff and fun as well as just heart-wrenching tear your hair out kind of angst, which ofc works perfectly for satosugu

two drifters, off to see the world by quietkids - you have to have a pretty strong stomach when it comes to angst if you're gonna ship satosugu and id say i qualify for that and i also very very very rarely cry over fics, but my god something about this fic just destroyed me. im too scared to read it again. i cannot even comprehend how devastated i was upon finishing this like it wasn't even the gross loud sobbing kind of devastated it was just this awful ache that followed me around for DAYS and that takes so so so much talent any and all kudos go to this author. the thing about college-era satosugu fics that anhialates me so much is the helplessness of it. it's all so tragic and 'there is no other version of this story'. you watch them try so hard to make it work and every time without fail you know it all goes wrong anyway, the love was there but it wasn't enough. and somehow this author just grabbed that sentiment and put it into words and i just. OW

at the end of the world by freckledgeto - hi two of the bestest jjk writers are my mutuals and im bragging about it. alia wrote the itafushi (+first year trio friendship) roadtrip au specifically to hurt me im sure of it. not to get into the incredible writing parallels of jjk, but just like their predecessors, itafushi is all about that helplessness, the knowledge of how this is going to end and still trying to fight it, but while satosugu is usually very deep and dark and heavy, itafushi are the younger, fresher version, and alia writes to accommodate that so seamlessly. it's fun and silly and they're so clearly KIDS in it, and it makes it all the more heartbreaking when it stops being so fun and silly. specifically itadori's character is done beautifully in this fic, but also megumi's characterisation gave me an entire new angle on him that id never had before. the whole thing makes me want to punch a wall

atla:

where the stars do not take sides by witchofendor - honestly any fic by this author is always so well-thought out like the worldbuilding is always INCREDIBLE, but i just lovedddd this fire siblings in this and just the whole concept of it. this is my canon. i actually really want to reread this fic when i get a chance

blue by blacklipscurse - this will always always be THE zukka fic in my opinion like just JKSHGKJSHDGJH i miss when this was updating. the zuko characterisation in this is beautiful zuko and iroh's relationship is beautiful but also one thing that really stuck with me from this fic is the fire nation girls' characterisation? like ive NEVER seen a fic get azula like this but also TY LEE really stuck out to me. like she WOULD be so terrifying with her cheerfulness while she literally attacked you and this is the first time i actually felt that

feels like we only go backwards by oldpotatoe - RUBY WE MISS YOU <3 the writing of this fic is absolutely exceptional like there's a reason this fic gets so much hype. the angst? the romance? the slowburn? the falling in love twice over? the sokka and katara moments? give it to me straight into my veins pls

ozymandias king of kings by think_of_a_wonderful_thought - the first zukka fic i ever read and it's really stuck with me. ive said before but this fic really inspired me and is the reason a lot of taob is the way that it is. i LOVE zuko's characterisation in this bc he's different to canon but in a way that makes perfect sense with the divergence we're given. i also really liked hakoda in this? like not that he was being mean to zuko but just that the author wasnt scared to make him a good leader in a REALISTIC way, aka very cynical towards a fire nation prince. you'd think it would be obvious but people get very aggy when you're mean to zuko lol

salvage by muffinlance - obligatory mention <3 beloved fic <3 what to say about salvage that hasn't been said before. it's just an absolute staple of the atla fandom and CREATED its own trope that i very much capitalised off. i just think the whole concept is so so brilliant and it's such a heartfelt fic. it'll always have a very special place in my heart

#missing so many fics that i love in order to make this pretty short but oh well #i read in other fandoms but it's just these three that seem to churn out the real chokehold fics #i also avoided one-shots for this list #here u go <3 #ask #fic recs #haikyuu #jjk #atla

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besanii · 3 years ago

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I need to know what caused Wei Ying to finally initiate a physical relationship with Xichen. Was it for Lotus pier and what the empress said? He does seem to have some feelings towards Xichen so did he not mind it bc of that? What does Xichen think about this whole thing ahhhhhhhhh so many questions. Sorry Lan Zhan cause ngl I ship them

[ follows on from six ]

Alive.

The word washes over him like a wave, bringing with it a rush of joy and relief—his brother is alive—that lasts only a heartbeat before the significance of the news comes crashing down.

His brother is alive.

An arrow to the shoulder, the report had read. Knocked overboard in the heat of the battle and disappearing under the churning waters; for days they searched, picking through the bodies floating amongst the debris long after the Dongying forces had retreated.

They found him, a day later, half-drowned and delirious with fever, unable to fight. News of his death in battle spread as he lay in his bed, one foot already through the gates of Hell and yet still strategising, planning, during his brief moments of lucidity. Conscious enough to know that they can use his perceived death to their advantage.

And indeed with the loss of Gusu’s greatest commander, their enemies pressed them harder, forcing them to cede waters they had previously held strong. Little did they know they were being lured into a trap, one that would decimate their fleet and end the battle once and for all.

“And how is Hanguang-wang now?” Lan Xichen asks. Only years of experience keeps his voice tightly controlled and his hands relaxed as they rest on the spacious desk before him.

“Replying to Huangshang, Hanguang-wang asked this lowly subject to pass on the message that he is well and not to worry,” the messenger reports. “Hanguang-wang has also said he will stay on to fight until the war is won, as is his duty as the commander of the fleet.”

As a brother, Lan Xichen knows he should recall Lan Wangji from the front lines, allow him to return to Caiyi to nurse his injuries. As Emperor, if his best commander reports he can continue to fight and his staying on increases their chances of victory, then he has no reason to refuse. As a man—

He tells himself the rush of relief that courses through him at the news is because his brother is well; he does not allow himself to entertain the other reason. It is too shameful to admit, even to himself.

In the end, the Emperor wins out, as it always does.

“Very well,” he says finally, pressing the tips of his fingers together as if he is giving serious consideration to Lan Wangji’s request. “We will grant Hanguang-wang the right to stay, as reward for his loyalty.”

He does not call on Chenghuan Hall.

He tells himself it is to give Wei Wuxian space in the wake of such momentous news, to allow him to process it fully in his own time without the added pressure of Lan Xichen’s presence. It is a flimsy excuse, one he knows does not fool his Empress at the very least, whose knowing looks and raised eyebrow has his insides twisting with guilt and shame like a child caught stealing treats from the kitchens. So he avoids her palace too, and seeks refuge in the Imperial study until late in the evenings.

A whole month passes where Lan Xichen does not allow himself to see Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian does not send word to him either.

He wonders if he’s left it too long, whether Wei Wuxian would be upset or angry at their situation—at him, for putting them in this situation. If it is too late to show up now, after a whole month of silence, and try to make amends.

Fortunately—if one could call any part of this fortunate—the decision is made for him when Wei Wuxian himself walks into the Imperial study one night and kneels in the centre of the chamber. Lan Xichen watches dumbly as he prostrates himself, forehead pressed against the tips of his fingers on the cold stone floor, his hair loose and unbound, spilling over his plain white robes, the very picture of contrition and penance.

“This lowly concubine pays greetings to Huangshang,” Wei Wuxian says, his voice loud and clear in the quiet of the study. “And humbly seeks your forgiveness.”

“Wuxian...” Lan Xichen begins hesitantly. He breaks off, looking around at the eunuchs stationed around the study with their heads bowed. “You may leave us.”

It is only after they file away, closing the double doors behind them silently, does Lan Xichen allow himself to cross the chamber to where Wei Wuxian is still kneeling. He hurries to help him up, grasping him below the elbows, but is met with resistance as Wei Wuxian stubbornly keeps his head and shoulders bowed.

“Wuxian,” he says helplessly. “There is no need for this.”

“This lowly concubine dares not stand until Huangshang has forgiven me for my transgressions,” Wei Wuxian replies, still in that formal, wooden tone of voice Lan Xichen has come to know too well. He sighs.

“It is cold tonight and you are barely dressed. You will catch a cold walking around like this,” he tells him gently, softening his grip on his arms. When Wei Wuxian still refuses to budge, he sighs again and tilts his face up with two fingers under his chin. “There is nothing to forgive, you have done nothing wrong,”

There is confusion and wariness in those grey eyes as they finally meet his, two emotions he had hoped never to see again.

“Huangshang is displeased with me,” Wei Wuxian says quietly, tightly, as if he would fall apart if he raised his voice. “Ever since the report from Jinghai. Huangshang can no longer bear the sight of me, now that Lan Zhan—” he bites off the name with a pained twist of his mouth.

Lan Xichen recoils as if struck. He had known the nature of their relationship before his brother’s departure, and their plans for his return. But hearing his brother’s given name, such an intimate address used so freely and without thought, is a stark reminder of what he had done. Who he had taken.

Wei Wuxian knows it too, from the shudder that runs through him as he exhales, and the way his hands curl into fists in his lap.

"This lowly concubine does not dare presume he has any right to beg forgiveness for putting Huangshang in such a difficult position,” he continues, the barest hint of a waver in his voice. “I only wished to let Huangshang know that he does not need to trouble himself over this any longer.”

There is a ring of finality to his words that immediately catches Lan Xichen’s attention.

“What are you saying?” he asks warily. “Wuxian—”

Wei Wuxian shuffles backwards, putting enough distance between them so that he can prostrate himself once more, touching his forehead to the floor.

“This lowly concubine begs Huangshang to grant me the death penalty.”

“No.”

The word forces itself from Lan Xichen’s lips before he even realises he’s spoken, a spontaneous, visceral reaction full of hurt and fury beyond his control. For a long moment after, he cannot speak around the vice clamped tight around his chest, squeezing the air from his lungs. Wei Wuxian replies, but his voice is only a faint murmur against the blood roaring in his ears; he cannot see his face to read his lips, but Lan Xichen already knows what he will say.

“You cannot ask that of me.” The words rasp painfully against his throat. “I will not be the reason for your death.”

Wei Wuxian raises his head and Lan Xichen freezes at the sight of the tears in his eyes, the same hurt, the same helpless fury colouring his cheeks and knitting his brows.

“And I am not willing to be the conflict that destroys the relationship between brothers,” he cries. “I cannot—I will not do it. Huangshang. You cannot ask that of me. Please do not ask it of me.”

He lowers his face to the floor once more.

“This lowly concubine is only alive today because of Huangshang,” he says, voice small and trembling but with an undercurrent of steel. “I should already be dead. If Huangshang grants me the death penalty now, it will only be putting the situation to rights once more, and Hanguang-wang will be none the wiser upon his return.”

Lan Xichen reaches out a trembling hand toward him, but stops short, hand hovering just above the top of his head. He cannot ask this of him. As a brother, and as a man, he cannot do it. As an Emperor—

Almost as if sensing his indecision, Wei Wuxian raises his head, leans into the palm of Lan Xichen’s outstretched hand and smiles as those long fingers mould themselves reflexively around the curve of his cheek.

“This lowly concubine will never forget the kindness and affection Huangshang has bestowed upon me,” he murmurs. “So if there must be a sacrifice, please let me make it in your place.”

TBC (yes I have just decided there will be a part two to this)

buy me a ko-fi!

more paper-thin fic | verse

Notes

Such drama! Much angst!

Sorry this took much longer than anticipated, mostly cos I’ve been devouring ancient Tezuka/Fuji fics and falling back into the ancient Tenipuri fandom in the past couple of weeks. So, uh, don’t be surprised if my next thing is Tezuka/Fuji instead (☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞

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ladyartemesia · 4 years ago

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ঌ⊙ fic preview ⊙ঌ

Once Upon a Bracelet

Pairing: Prince Jungkook x Sorceress Reader

(Featuring Platonic Jin x Reader Friendship)

Genre: Fantasy • Soulmates • Enemies to Lovers

Predicted Word Count: 7K (Teaser is 1K)

Rating: Explicit (18+) (Teaser is PG-13)

Summary: You were born to nothing, but your powerful craft caught the eye of a charming prince.

However, his distinctly un-charming younger brother challenged your betrothal and is routinely challenging you.

Jeon Jungkook is (probably) a former necromancer and (definitely) the wrong prince...

But the bracelets tell a different story.

⊙ঌ⊙థ⊙ঌ⊙థ⊙ঌ⊙ঌ⊙ঌ

Prologue: Blood Magic

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Blood magic was the oldest and most powerful of the ancient crafts.

The best and strongest blood crafters hailed from Dionysia, where the heart of all blood magic, the Sanguine Well, rose up from the earth. The people of Dionysia served as caretakers and protectors of the Well and, in time, reverence of the blood craft wove into the fabric of their souls.

Their culture thrived around it. Their beliefs embodied it.

Even love bowed before it.

Bonding bracelets were born of blood magic.

The ritual creation of a bonding bracelet pair marked the transition from childhood into maturity. When a man or woman reached their 20th birthday, they and their family traveled to the Sanguine Well.

Four cuts were made on the right hand. Six drops of blood offered to the water...

Then the Well would churn and rise with violence, swelling till the overflow swept over the youth who fed their blood to the currents.

When the water receded, the bracelet pair remained.

One bracelet for the man or woman who sought the well.

One for their soulmate.

Only the first of any soulmate pair (the first seeker) to perform the ritual received the bracelets. Many who traveled to the Sanguine Well left empty handed because their soulmate had offered blood first.

The first seeker’s bracelet formed fully clasped around their wrist. The second bracelet remained open and would only close for the first seeker’s destined mate.

When an unclaimed bracelet united with its true host, the open ends stretched and intertwined to form a rune.

From that moment on, the first seeker and their mate were blood bonded; their powers and abilities joined in a sacred union that was – to all known craft – unbreakable.

The strength of a blood bound pair could be quite formidable and, over the centuries, powerful soulmates rose to become great warriors, crafters, and leaders of their people…

For this reason, Dionysia did not take the gift of bonded soulmates lightly.

All proposed matches were registered and approved by the Ruling Council before an open bracelet could even be tried on by a potential partner. Both parties were required to present evidence of their commitment to one another. If the alliance was approved, the betrothed pair participated in a public ceremony where the first seeker’s intended mate would activate the bond by finally placing the open bracelet around their wrist.

The Royal Council believed this care and reverence honored the craft and the gods, thereby allowing the sacred tradition to continue.

In 900 years of recorded history, only five bonding ceremonies ended with a bracelet that did not close.

Now there were six…

⊙ঌ⊙థ⊙ঌ⊙థ⊙ঌ⊙ঌ⊙ঌ

Once Upon a Time...

⊙ঌ⊙థ⊙ঌ⊙థ⊙ঌ⊙ঌ⊙ঌ

“Jin!”

Your voice echoed dismally down the dusty corridor of Silent Truth Hall. “I’m sorry…I—”

Jin whirled on you, shaking his head vehemently.

“None of this is your fault.”

“There are many reasons why this could’ve happened,” you offered breathlessly.

“There’s only one reason why this happens.”

He sighed in defeat as you rubbed your temples in frustration.

“I don’t understand. The Council gave permission!”

The Ruling Council was a sovereign governing body of three kings and three queens, one monarch from each of Dionysia’s six royal bloodlines.

“The Council isn’t all knowing… ” Jin collapsed against a nearby wall. “This is a disaster,” he whispered.

And it was.

You had no family, but all of your friends from the Academy were there.

Jin was technically an orphan as well, but his adopted family, the Jeons, were there.

Jeon Alaya was high queen of the Ruling Council, so half the kingdom was there to see her (adopted) son bond with a craft prodigy from The Wastes.

Half the kingdom, but not her blood. Not her youngest son, you thought bitterly.

The two of you were silent for several moments while your minds struggled to process the shock.

“Do you think the rumors—what they say about me—is true?” you asked solemnly.

Jin’s head shot up in an instant.

“No,” he swore, “they’re absolutely not true.”

“But it didn’t close—”

“It didn’t close because we aren’t soulmates—not because you aren’t one of us.” His expression softened. “We were a good idea… just not the right one.”

Tears begin to burn at the corner of your eyes.

On some level you were not surprised. You cared for Jin but–

Yours was not an overly romantic attachment.

It was a strong friendship—one that spanned several years. When you decided to apply to the Royal Council for bonding, it seemed…

Logical.

Friendship was an excellent basis for blood bonding. More than one bonded pair applied as friends.

You believed in the wisdom of the Royal Council—everyone did. If you and Jin were not meant for each other, then surely the Council would see it. They would turn down the application. Someone would object…

Someone did object, your mind taunted.

But you were approved.

The date was set. Announcements made. Invitations sent out. The bracelet was placed on your wrist and…

Nothing.

Nothing happened.

Jin’s bracelet remained stubbornly un-closed.

And you had never felt so mortified, so exposed… so profoundly alone in your entire life.

It was a scandal of epic proportions, one which potentially called into question the judgement of the entire Ruling Council.

“Listen,” Jin said at last, “I need… I need to clear my head and think about the next steps. I know an expert on bonding bracelets. Maybe I can convince her to help. There might be another explanation.”

His hands slid up to grasp your shoulders in a familiar comforting gesture.

“Head to my house outside the city for a while. No one will bother you there, and I’ll be back tomorrow.” He gave your arms a brotherly squeeze. “We’ll work through this.”

You nodded, extremely grateful for the opportunity to be alone for a few hours.

Jin helped you slip out the back corridor to avoid the insanity still unfolding in the Hall (where the failed ceremony took place), then you parted with a final hug and quietly walked the few miles to his beautiful manor near the lake.

Technically, Golden Starlight House was one of many homes owned by the Jeon family. This one, however, Jin shared with his younger brother…

Jungkook

Jeon Jungkook was a sore subject for you. In fact, you preferred not to think about him at all if possible—and you certainly would never agree to hide at his house if you thought he would be there.

But Jungkook left weeks ago… right after the betrothal was announced.

“I cannot stand by and watch my brother make a mistake like this.”

His horrible words echoed in your mind as you unlocked the door, prepared to simply collapse fully clothed on the chaise when—

“Shouldn’t you be off playing bride-to-be literally anywhere else?”

You turned, already knowing who you would see.

“Jeon Jungkook. Of course.” A mirthless laugh bubbled up before you could stop it.

Just what I needed right now.

Full story should be posting very soon! Please let me know what you thought of the teaser! 🥺I would really appreciate it and it really fuels my creative process! I promise I treasure every word!

Let me know in the comments if you would like to be tagged for this story!

Tagging: @lemonjoonah @xjoonchildx @ppersonna @hobi-gif @untaemedqueen @underthejoon because you ladies are my heart and I always want to show you what I did right away 🥺

Important Note: I previously published a version of this story for a different fandom (Star Wars). So if you see it elsewhere (though I have made considerable changes) I promise it’s me and I can prove it. Tagging @wwilloww because she read the original way back when 😂🤣

#jeon jeongkook #bts #jeon jeongguk #jungkook smut #jungkook oneshots #jungkook oneshot #jungkook scenario #bts smut #ficswithluv #jungkook x reader

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lambourngb · 3 years ago

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day 6: lesser known creators and creations- the hidden gems of fandom

Belated for @roswellnewmexicocreate [last few days have been challenging!]

New creators are the lifeblood of fandom, because not everyone stays in fandom or stays inspired to write for it. While there are times I just want to re-read a classic, there really is something fun about clicking on a new name to see what they think of our beloved alien show.

We have very long hiatuses, and sometimes people pull away until the show comes back, so I thought I would also highlight some lessor known creations as well from our last hiatus. As we are blessed in the malex side of fandom, there’s a small but mighty group of fans and creators, churning out new works every day, so maybe you might have missed these works.

***

calamitous by @bubblesyoh (3,962) - Two times they apologize to each other and three times they are so in love they can't even fool one another.

why i like it: most of us know bubblesyoh as being a supportive friend, reblogging and commenting so prolifically- but they are also an author! Malex have without a doubt hurt one another in canon, and there is an art to writing a good apology fic and this story does it well.

***

kill me tonight, darling by u1ltsa (4.867)-Alex and Michael have a memorable first meeting at a party. They keep running into each other and can't seem to get enough of one another.

why i like it: It’s a human AU where over the course of months, these two keep running into each other. Michael is so smitten in this story and can’t help chasing Alex and how Alex makes him feel. It’s sexy and kinky and ends happily ever after. My favorite meeting is still the bar scene that ends up at a hotel- wow.

***

next time will be the last time by kit alridge (1,715) "It's not how it's going to happen, next time. Because next time will be the last time we do the falling-back-together thing." After a close shave, Alex and Michael come close to falling back into old patterns, but have a much-needed conversation instead.

why i like it: I’m so weak for the “we survived let’s fuck to celebrate” trope, and this story explores what it means for Malex to fall into it, and how closely it mirrors some of their past, unhealthy behaviors. Anyway this hits all the notes that I pray we get in the second half of season 3, where these two finally talk and admit what they want.

***

tell me what you’ll do, please by @entropychanges (3,054) So, Michael, dripping like a wet mop on the restaurant’s tile floor, stood silently as he looked between the sister of the girl whose murder he covered up only two months ago, and his lover who would rather be sent off to war than be with him. Great. He swallowed, figuring he may as well break the silence.“Sorry, I wasn’t sure if-”“The kitchen is closed,” Liz interrupted, looking him up and down before saying, “but you can stay until the storm lets up.” Or, in which Michael gets caught out in the rain while sleeping in his truck, and ends up taking shelter in the last place he wants to be.

why i like it: Sometimes I like to cry about Michael, especially Michael at 17-18, after the shed. This story serves up all the angst of what his life looked like then, along with the grief that Liz was living in and the grim determination that Alex had about his own fate. They were all such babies and they were in such pain, and ugh that breaks my heart.

***

I’ll take care of you by @cosmiceverafter (2,055) When Alex stops by Michael's airstream to confess how he's feeling, he ends up taking care of the alien he loves so much instead.

why i like it: classic hurt-comfort here, which I always eat up with a spoon. Highlights for me in this story was Michael was hurt working on a project from a natural disaster, and not anything self-inflicted, and then Alex finding that iconic picture of the two of them in the desert with guitars. Ooof so many feels!

***

look after you by @ravens-words Everyone checks in on Kyle. 3x04 Coda

why i like it: well before we had it in 3x06, EJ delivered the whole found-family feels of everyone coming together to make sure Kyle is okay. As they should. Kyle holds the only brain cell. EJ has been a coda-writing machine since returning to RNM with the show, so definitely check out the whole collection for season 3, and not just the chapter I linked to because they are all so good.

***

honey, i’m going to love you all my life by wwwjudedotcom (3,729) Alex leaves Michael a voicemail after he loses his leg because he doesn't want to die without telling Michael that he loves him.

why i like it: this part of a great little series of fics surrounding prompts about ‘ways to say i love you’ - I’ve probably imagined Alex’s life post-injury in Iraq a million times, I so badly want to know if he dared to call Michael, did he call out for him in his morphine daze, is that how Greg knew about Michael? And I’m unsure if the show will ever answer this question, so it’s up to fanfic writers. Anyway, I love this little AU that lets Maria know just how important Michael is to Alex right from the start and where Isobel sends them to be with Alex in Germany. Ugh what a sweet thought (probably too sweet for the angst machine that is RNM).

#rnmcreate21 #day 6 lesser known creators #malex #malex fic rec #roswell new mexico

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trekscribbles · 3 years ago

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Triple Threat: A Stone Triplets Fic (Chapter 2)

Fandoms: Leverage/Leverage Redemption, Librarians, and Almost Paradise

Cross-Posted: Ao3 and FF

Summary: Eliot and Jake are both in the Philippines for separate jobs that turn out to be related. Kai takes the existence of Alex's brothers as a personal attack on her mental health. Ernesto happily goes along for the ride.

Read Chapter 1 here.

Chapter 2: Double Trouble

The last time Eliot saw Alex was when they were 16 years old. Alex had been living with Uncle Danny for 6 years at that point, so the brothers didn't have much of a relationship even then, and the reunion had been awkward and tense. Jake was the one who tried to keep them together, who talked their father into hosting Christmas that year. He was the one who'd called Alex and begged him to come home for a week. Just a week.

They'd lasted three days.

At the time Eliot had blamed Alex—immature, bull-headed Alex, whose verbal and then physical fights with their father had led to his living with Uncle Danny in the first place. If he could have just learned to keep his mouth shut, most of the fights wouldn't have happened. Eliot and Jake had learned that lesson—why couldn't Alex? He always had to have the last word, no matter what the cost.

That last visit was what finally convinced Eliot to leave home. He thought about college, but eventually decided to enlist as soon as he turned 18 (without telling their father). Jake was supposed to go with him, but he'd wanted to see Alex one more time before they left. When months went by and Alex didn't come back, Eliot left both his brothers behind.

Age had given Eliot perspective, but by the time he was ready to apologize, Jake wouldn't take his calls. Alex had already joined the DEA, and a series of undercover assignments for both of them made it impossible for Eliot to reach out. And then he got involved with Moreau, and getting in touch was no longer an option. It would have put them in too much danger, and that was one thing Eliot would never do. But after a while, even that became an excuse. After he escaped Moreau, after Nate created a team and a family for him, he let the silence continue. He'd made that choice on his own.

And now apparently Alex was in the Philippines. Permanently, according to the detective who introduced herself as Kai Mendoza. That was all she would tell him (through gritted teeth, as though Eliot had committed some unforgivable sin by asking). "We have to take care of this mess," she'd grumbled. "Then we'll take you to see Alex."

She hadn't asked if Eliot wanted to see Alex, and part of him was glad for that. If he'd been given the option, he wasn't sure he'd have said yes. It would have been easy to say that he was too busy, that he couldn't stay, that it was better for them not to meet. But now that the offer was there, Eliot couldn't turn it down. One way or another, he was going to see his brother today.

Kai and her partner Ernesto drove him and the two men they'd arrested to the police station, where Eliot was firmly told to stay in the car. Kai paused after giving the order as if waiting for him to argue, even after he nodded and promised to stay put. Apparently Alex hadn't changed much since they were kids.

While the others were inside, Eliot took a few minutes to call Hardison and update him on the job. It was just the two of them on this one, with Hardison pulling the strings from somewhere in Vietnam while Eliot worked on the ground in Cebu.

Hardison picked up on the first ring. "All done? I booked you a flight back to New Orleans on—"

"I ran into a little snag," Eliot interrupted.

"What kind of snag?"

Eliot explained most of his encounter with Kai and Ernesto, but he couldn't bring himself to include the fact that he'd been mistaken for one of his long-lost triplet brothers. Hardison knew he had siblings, but Eliot hadn't ever gone into details about them. He wasn't sure what he'd say now, and he knew Hardison would have questions. Best to leave it be. He'd give Hardison a more in-depth explanation later.

"So now what?" Hardison asked.

"Now we wait and see if they can salvage the sting. If they arrest Flores, our work is done."

"And if they don't?"

"I'll let you know."

There was a pause, as if Hardison was trying to decide whether or not to voice his next thought. "Is there something else?"

Eliot sighed. He tried not to lie to Hardison or Parker, but he didn't want to have this conversation now. "Not about the job," he answered. "I'll explain later."

To his credit, Hardison didn't argue, even though he had to be burning with curiosity. "Okay. Call back when you have more to share."

"Yeah."

It was another twenty minutes before Kai and Ernesto emerged from the police station, both wearing grim expressions. They were talking as they approached the car, and Eliot caught the tail end of their conversation through the open windows.

"I didn't want to bring him in on this," Kai was saying.

Ernesto shrugged. "We don't really have a choice anymore."

"Things get messy when his family is involved. It'll only complicate things."

Interesting. Which of his relatives had already come to the island? Evidently Eliot's family had a knack for disrupting the locals.

"Ocampo's orders," Ernesto said. He opened the passenger door and slid into the car, turning to look over his shoulder at Eliot. "We'll take you to see Alex, but you're going to have to come back to the station and explain what you were doing with Flores."

Eliot crossed his arms. "Figured you'd want to know that first."

"We do," Kai said, with a frown at her partner. "You owe the delay to Alex. He's helped us out in the past, and Ernesto thinks we should tell him you're here before he finds out from someone else."

"The surprise could kill him," Ernesto said mildly.

"You just want to see his face when we show up with his doppelganger."

"Don't you?" Ernesto asked. Kai huffed and dropped into the driver's seat.

They lapsed into silence during the drive, which Eliot appreciated. His stomach had begun an uneasy churn, though he told himself it was just because of the heat. There was nothing to be nervous about. Sure Eliot hadn't reached out, but neither had Alex. Neither had Jake, for that matter. Eliot had gone home once, just after he got out of the service, and found Jake had taken over the oil company. Their neighbors said that Jake was turning things around, digging out of debt and even managing a profit, and Eliot accepted the blessing and drove out of town without stopping by the house. It was enough that Jake was happy. He didn't need Eliot coming back and ruining things for him.

Kai pulled into the parking lot of another hotel, dodging groups of brightly dressed tourists as she went. "He owns the gift shop here at the resort," Ernesto explained, flashing a friendly smile over his shoulder. Kai didn't look at him as she got out of the car, but Eliot was happy to keep his silence. He trailed behind her as she led the way through the resort, winding around pools and umbrella-covered tables, slowing every few moments so Ernesto could greet someone. Apparently the friendliness wasn't an act—or else it was a very good one. But something about the man felt genuine, as if he couldn't be bothered to put up a front.

Kai, on the other hand... she was harder to read. Especially now that she wasn't giving Eliot anything to work with except the occasional glare.

Before long the bustle of the resort faded as concrete transitioned to sand beneath their feet. A small building rose ahead of them, still against the backdrop of gentle waves and lazy clouds. A soft breeze ruffled Eliot's hair, filling his lungs with salt and sunshine. He wanted to stop, to look out at the water and breathe in the sea spray and the silence, but the others kept walking.

No wonder Alex had picked this spot. If retirement was in Eliot's future, he could see himself in a place like this.

Ernesto reached the door, and Eliot took one last windswept breath to brace himself.

"You look nervous," Kai murmured.

No he didn't. He knew he didn't, because the only emotions he gave away were the ones he wanted people to see. And he was most definitely not nervous. But her eyes lingered on his, and something softened in her expression.

"Don't worry," she said, giving him a small, hesitant smile. "It'll be fine."

"Alex," Ernesto called, and Eliot's stomach gave another roll. This was a mistake. He shouldn't have come. He tried to back away, but Kai put her hand on his arm and cut off his retreat, guiding him inside.

The gift shop was empty besides one man restocking a rack of post cards. He stood with his back to them, but it was impossible to mistake him for anyone else. He had the same build as Eliot, the same brown hair he'd have to fight to keep straight in this humidity, the same scarred hands from years of work and fighting.

"Hey!" Alex said without turning around. "Check it out, I got new cards."

Ernesto started across the room, gesturing for Eliot to follow. "How come you didn't tell us you had a twin?"

Alex looked at him. "A twin? I don't have a tw—"

His eyes fell on Eliot, and his words died. Eliot could feel Kai watching them, waiting for a reaction, but he couldn't think of anything to say. Hey, how've you been the last 30 years? Oh, me? Well, first I was an international assassin, and now I work with a group of thieves who steal from the rich and give to the poor. I still punch people for a living though. How about you?

Something started beeping. Eliot started—no, not started, just looked around for the source—but Alex slapped his hand to his wrist and the sound stopped.

"Everything okay?" Ernesto asked. Alex made a noncommittal sound, glancing at him before returning his attention to Eliot. His eyes seemed bluer than Eliot remembered. It was probably just the lighting, but since it was the only thought that didn't spiral out of control, it was the one Eliot clung to. Blue eyes like their mother's, like the pond water in the back yard. Blue eyes that had been red with anger and hurt the last time he'd seen them.

"Which one are you?" Alex asked.

Behind him, Kai made a choking sound. Ernesto shushed her.

"But—" she sputtered. "Are there more of them?"

Eliot refocused on his brother. "You don't recognize me?"

"You both look the same," Alex deadpanned.

"Well, we're in the Philippines and I'm speaking English."

For a long moment Alex simply stared at him as if trying to read the details of their separation in his face. Then he reached out, and Eliot braced himself for the punch. He wouldn't fight back—not at first, not unless things got out of hand. He could take a hit or two, let Alex burn off some of his anger, and then try talking. They weren't 16 anymore. They could handle this like adults.

But Alex didn't hit him. His arms flashed out past Eliot's head, wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him tight. "Eliot," he murmured, crushing him in a hug that drove the breath from Eliot's lungs. He didn't care. He grabbed two fistfuls of Alex's shirt and squeezed, pressing everything he couldn't voice into the embrace.

"It's good to see you," Alex said at last, gruffly. He pulled away without taking his hands from Eliot's shoulders. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh... work."

Alex frowned at the hesitation. "What kind of work?"

Eliot sent a look over his shoulder, where Kai and Ernesto still waited. They clearly had some kind of relationship with Alex, but how far did that extend? Likely not far enough to keep from arresting Eliot for the half-dozen laws he'd broken to secure his meeting with Flores. "I'll tell you later."

"Now's as good a time as any," Kai said. "You can tell us now or at the station, whichever you prefer."

"We can give them a little longer," Ernesto argued.

"Flores is still out there. The longer we wait, the more time he has to act."

"Who's Flores?" Alex asked. He let his hands slide from Eliot's shoulders, a frown settling over his face.

Kai gave him a pointed look. "I'll tell you later."

"I think you should tell me now."

"I don't care what—"

Ernesto held his hands up, putting himself between the two of them. "Kai, we can give them a few more minutes to catch up. We'll be outside, Alex. Ten minutes." He looked at Eliot. "Then you come to the station with us. Understand?"

"Fine," Alex said. "Ten minutes. I got it."

Though Kai looked like she wanted to argue, she allowed Ernesto to guide her toward the door. "Nice friends you've got," Eliot muttered.

He'd meant it as a joke, but Alex gave a serious nod. "Yeah. They are. They're closer than some of my family."

Apparently they were going to fight after all. "I didn't know how to contact you," Eliot said.

"You're smart. You couldn't figure something out?"

"Couldn't you?" Eliot countered. "The last I heard you were undercover. Reaching out would have put you in danger."

"I'm retired now," Alex said.

"So I hear."

Alex crossed his arms over his chest. "I did try to find you. There was a rumor going around that you'd died."

"I didn't. Well, I did once, but it didn't stick."

"How long ago was that?"

"While you were still undercover."

Alex gave a frustrated growl. "Fine. We both could have done more, alright? Just... fill me in on the case."

The case was a safe topic, so Eliot embraced the change without complaint. He gave his brother the basics as he knew them: Robert Flores was looking to set up a base to smuggle drugs to the United States. Hardison had been tracking him throughout Asia, but when business kept him in Vietnam he'd contacted Eliot about finishing the job. "Should have been simple enough," Eliot said. "Set up a meeting, figure out his weakness, take him down."

"But you weren't the only one after him," Alex said. He heaved a sigh. "How mad was Kai when you showed up?"

An involuntary smile pulled at Eliot's lips. "She thought I was you. I think she wanted to kill me more than Flores's men did."

Alex chuckled, sobering a moment later. "So this is what you do? You go after international criminals?"

"More or less."

"With who? I mean—CIA? Interpol?"

"It's kind of a freelance operation."

Alex shook his head. "That doesn't make any sense."

"It's a lot to explain," Eliot said. "And I will, I promise. Soon as we have the time."

"Right." Alex gave him another long look, and a small grin appeared on his face. "It's good to see you, man. It's been too long."

Eliot didn't try to stop his answering grin. "You go by Walker now?"

"You'd already taken Mom's name. Didn't leave me with much of a choice."

"Yeah, but... Walker? As in Texas Ranger?"

Alex hissed and shot a look toward the door. "Don't say it out loud, man. I've got a reputation to keep up here."

Eliot laughed, but Ernesto chose that moment to knock and peek into the gift shop, effectively ending the conversation. "You two finished?" he called.

"For now," Alex answered. "Where's Kai?"

"She went to get some coffee. She'll be back any minute."

Alex nodded. "Good. I wanna be back before the afternoon rush."

"You're not coming," Ernesto said. "I don't think Kai can handle two of you."

Eliot folded his arms. "For the record, I'm not Alex's double. If anything he's my double. I'm older."

"By eight minutes," Alex snapped.

"That's older."

Alex huffed a wordless reply, and Eliot felt a glow of something familiar in his chest. This was an argument they'd had hundreds of times—Eliot, being the oldest, started it most often when they were kids. Jake had come next, and then Alex—Baby Alex, they called him, whenever he was being annoying. Eliot was pleased to find the joke still funny.

Even better, Alex seemed to still find it annoying. Eliot couldn't say why that felt so comforting. Maybe it was just that he was thankful to see a glimpse of the old Alex, the one he'd known before they let their father and their pride get in the way of their relationship. Maybe it was the fact that Alex was relaxed enough to have this conversation in front of Ernesto. Maybe Alex had found a team the way Eliot had.

Maybe it was a good thing he'd come here after all.

#fanfic #leverage redemption #leverage #almost paradise #librarians #eliot spencer #jacob stone #alex walker #stone triplets #the terrible triplets #eliot jake and alex are triplets

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fanfickittycat · 4 years ago

Text

Pay Attention to Me

TITLE: Pay Attention to Me

CHAPTER NUMBER/ONE SHOT: One Shot

AUTHOR: fanfickittycat

FANDOM: Haikyuu!!

CHARACTERS/PAIRING: Suna Rintaro x Reader

GENRE: Smut

FIC SUMMARY: After seeking advice from everyone about what to do when your boyfriend Suna won’t pay attention to you, you decide to take matters into your own hands

RATING: M

AUTHORS NOTES/WARNINGS: Unedited because that’s sexy right? Atsumu being a huge himbo. Read it on AO3 here

“Rin?” No response. You knew it was useless, but you couldn’t help but try to get your boyfriend’s attention. He was right next to you and he still wouldn’t respond, despite the way you’d call his name in the sweetest voice you could muster. You sighed, turning back to your maths homework that Suna had abandoned twenty minutes ago with no progress beyond the first set of sums. He always suggested study dates, but really it was just the chance to be near you without interacting.

“Talking isn’t necessarily communicating” he said once “I just like to be near you.”

At the time, it had made your heart melt that he was so satisfied and comfortable with just your presence, but lately it felt like a slap of indifference across your face. It was almost as if he thought of you as a pet, or a casual acquaintance instead of as his girlfriend. You looked at him, regarding his green eyes that looked at his phone with more interest than they looked at you. His thumb lazily scrolled down the screen as the clock ticked behind him. You could leave and he probably wouldn’t notice, but you were too shy, too nervous to make such a bold move. You finished up your homework glumly instead, packing away your things when it started to get dark.

“Done already?” Suna asked, speaking for the first time in two hours. You felt your heart sink into your stomach.

“Yeah” you looked away and nodded, pretending to be distracted by the inside of your school bag. It offered no comfort.

“Time flies” he hummed, stretching his arms up as though he had done anything more than be on Twitter. You swallowed thickly and stood up, feeling awkward when he didn’t follow suit.

“Well, I’ll get going then” you said. It prompted him to stand, which was encouraging, and he pressed a quick kiss onto your cheek before bidding you goodbye, but it didn’t calm the anxiety churning in your stomach. You were thankful you lived close by, only a couple of streets away at most, but it would have been nice if he had walked you. A cool spring breeze made a flurry of petals swirl around your ankles, and you breathed out shakily. Strings of gut-wrenching questions began to spin like threads in your mind. Was this it? Was this what you had to look forward to? Silence and your words hanging in the air, ignored? A lame kiss on the cheek as your only crumb of attention?

You contemplated your relationship when lying in bed that night. Suna had caught your eye, as he had many girls’. Tall, lean, athletic; his fox eyes had been subject to many a giggly conversation in the girls’ bathroom. You had thought him attractive, but what really captured your heart was how deceptively smart he was. You could see how intelligent he was. When he was picked on by the teacher in class, he always managed to have the answer, even though his tone was bored, and he didn’t look at all like he was paying attention. In the few volleyball games, you had attended with your friends, you observed how he calculated his chances with keen interest. He was more times than not on his phone, but you had seen him reading classic, dog eared paperbacks too as he waited for the twins to come out of class. It was how you had met.

“Vonnegut?” he noted, making you jump. You looked up to see him standing in front of you, hands in his pockets casually as he regarded you.

“Yeah” you cleared your throat, feeling your cheeks flush at the unexpected attention “I read Slaughterhouse Five last week and I liked it so…” You trailed off, feeling self-conscious. You had never spoken to him and vice versa. In fact, you were surprised that he even acknowledged you, even though it was a little pathetic to admit.

He nodded “I noticed.”

“You… noticed?” you frowned as you considered his words “do you make a habit of watching girls read?”

His lip quirked upwards “no. Only you.”

The chaotic sound of Miya Atsumu interrupted anything more being said, and you both looked towards the school as Atsumu held up a paper with a 32 written on it in red and circled. The blonde boy started raving to Suna, even at a distance, about how he had to do a make-up test and how badly he needed his help.

“God, he’s so loud” Suna mused, turning to walk away from you and towards his friend. You opened your mouth to say something but snapped it shut instead, not wanting to ruin whatever just happened.

“Tell me what you think when you finish” he said over his shoulder at you, nodding to the copy of Breakfast of Champions “I think you’ll like it.”

That had been it. From then on, you’d speak more and more to each other, straying off the topic of literature soon after. Then, when asked to pick partners for a history project, your friends had stared at you in open mouth shock when he walked across the class to claim you as his. His confession to you had only been a natural progression and you’d been together ever since.

So, what had changed? You knew that Nationals were coming up and he had been training more and more in preparation, but he had always carved out time for you, even in the summer when he’d go away to training camps. Was he tired of you? Bored even? You had to admit, that when gossip began to flutter around school about the two of you dating, you were really the one who was most surprised by the news. You were by no definition, popular, instead keeping a small group of friends and interacting with others easily with little to no friction. When you had asked Suna about it, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, he had laughed.

“You think nobody sees you, but I do” he said, leaning his chin on his hand “the way you told the substitute teacher last month that you enjoyed her lecture, or the books you read in the courtyard, or the confident way you talk in class. I see it. I like it. I like you.” He said it like it was the simplest, easiest thing in the world. Now however it felt complicated. You didn’t feel seen or even liked anymore.

You groaned and turned over to bury your face in your pillow. A soft thud prompted you to reach over the side of your bed and retrieve the fox plushie that Suna had won for you at the summer festival last year. He had looked so beautiful in the light of the lanterns, and happy to consume all the misshapen onigiri that Osamu couldn’t sell that night. Atsumu had practically inhaled the meat buns, and it rendered him full and groaning on the ground. The memories filled your mind, calming your racing heart. It had cemented itself as your favourite memory. Aran physically stopping the twins from arguing who could catch the most goldfish; Kita coming in a navy yukata with his grandmother; Suna kissing you when the fireworks filled the sky. The images played themselves in your mind like a slideshow, lulling you to sleep.

The next morning followed without major incident. You woke up earlier than usual to see Suna had sent you at least eight different TikToks. Something that he did often. You had texted him to say you were going to school early, not that you expected a response. You ended up forgetting your headphones and it rendered your walk to school monotonous.

“Good morning” you turned to see Kita and Aran smile gently at you. You had never interacted much with the two third years, but they were always kind to you, whether it be thanking you for coming to their games or reassuring you that they’d take care of Suna during training camps.

“You’re up early” Aran noted “did Suna keep you up? He keeps sending TikToks in the volleyball group chat at like, three am.”

“He’ll need to stop that soon. He needs all the rest he can get before Nationals.” Kita added. You smiled at their concern, but it faltered as you thought about the wall between you and your boyfriend.

“Is… Is he okay?” You asked, “he seems distracted these days.”

“He seems normal to me” Aran said, shrugging. Kita took time to consider his answer, but he didn’t have anything to add, which only made you sigh.

“Never mind” you said hurriedly, shaking your head “I’m sure he’s just occupied with Nationals.” It seemed stupid suddenly, but your heart still ached at the lack of an answer.

“Suna is talented” Kita said after a pause “and when he applies himself, he shines but he’s also lazy. He lacks the discipline to keep himself motivated when things become too comfortable.”

“What should I do?” You asked, cringing at the way desperation snuck itself into your tone.

“Tell him how you feel” Aran said, “he’s sure to listen.”

You shook your head “that’s the problem. He’s not listening.”

Aran scoffed “I can talk to him if you like. He’ll listen to me.”

“No” you sighed “it’s my problem, I should deal with it.”

“Be direct with him” Kita said, “confront him with his behaviour.” You thanked them for their help, leaving them to go sit in the courtyard. Your book was open, but you weren’t reading it. You mulled over the advice you were given instead. Of course, it would be best to just say it plainly, but the thought made you recoil. You were never one for confrontation. You didn’t have Kita’s ability to be cold and logical; nor Aran’s willingness to start difficult conversations. You tried to picture yourself challenging Suna but whenever you looked up at him, you’d register his height and his pretty eyes, and your brain would glitch for a full two seconds. How he still managed to have that effect on you was nothing short of witchcraft.

You ended up closing your book and abandoning the chance to read and instead wander aimlessly through campus. It was a stupid way to kill time, but you couldn’t sit still anymore. The sound of sneakers scuffling distracted you, leading you to the gym where the basketball team were practising.

“Those sneaky bastards” you heard, prompting you to look to your right where an angry Atsumu stood with his hands on his hips.

“They know Thursday is our day.”

“Atsumu” his brother said in between bites of onigiri “today is Friday.”

“Oh.” Atsumu raked a hand through his blonde hair, hiding his obvious embarrassed flush “don’t say anythin’ ‘Samu, I don’t wanna hear it.”

“Eh? I’m jus’ tryin’ to eat” Osamu mumbled, mouth full of rice. He noticed you looking at him and raised a hand in greeting.

“Is Suna ‘ere too?” Osamu asked, making Atsumu look away from the basketball team and at you instead.

You shook your head “no, I got here early. Um…” You hesitated, unsure whether or not you should ask “about Rintaro… How do I...” you struggled to describe the situation “how do I get him to pay attention to me?”

“Aren’t you his girl?” Atsumu asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Idiot. She means he’s bein’ negligent.”

“Don’t call me an idiot, yer the one who forgot to buy milk yesterday!”

“You forgot too!” “Quiet dumbass, we’re s’pposed to be helpin” Osamu snapped, looking back at you.

“Oh yea” Atsumu laughed, the fight already forgotten in his mind “hmmm… Suna likes lace.” You blinked at him and Osamu smacked the back of his head.

“Ignore him. Bake him somethin’. Or go out an’ eat. Or-“

“Not everyone thinks with their stomachs” Atsumu retaliated, smacking his brother on the back of the head too. They started to squabble again, and you watched, wondering whether you should walk away or film them.

“This has to be a new record” you felt yourself flinch at the sound of Suna’s voice “it’s not even nine.”

“Rin“ you murmured his name as his lips ghosted your temple, you felt the words in your throat but before you could even form the letters on your lips, he had whipped out his phone to film the twins. They were on the floor at this point, and you sighed, watching your boyfriend kneel down to get a better shot. You turn to go to class, in dismay about what to do.

You had to push yourself to focus on class that day, conscious of the fact that Suna was sitting at the opposite side of the classroom, towards the back, making it too hard to turn and look at him subtly. You were driving yourself crazy thinking about it. When it came to your turn to read aloud in class, you were uncharacteristically shaky and even the teacher seemed concerned. She asked you quietly before lunch if you were feeling okay, and you flushed and quickly reassured her that you were fine.

Your friends however were not so easily duped. You sat on the roof of the school with them, dodging questions and shrugging when they asked.

“Is it Suna?” Misa asked, frowning “is he treating you right?”

“He’s not treating me wrong” you mumbled, stirring your chopsticks into the cold udon.

“I knew it. I’m going to beat him up after class” Misa said, aggressively stabbing her omelette, making Ami pinch the skin between her eyebrows.

“I don’t think you need to go that far” Ami said, turning to you “you know you can tell us anything.”

Your heart warmed “Rintaro is just… I feel like I’m boring him.”

Misa made a sound of disagreement “his personality is being hot and sending memes. You’re way better.” It was funny to hear her speak like that considering how much fangirling she did when you two started dating.

“He’s always been withdrawn” Ami said, “even in elementary school and middle school he was disinterested.” Ami had been surprised when you and Suna became an item; she had known him since first grade and always knew him to be reserved.

You sighed, closing your eyes to concentrate on the slight breeze and the warmth of the sunlight. No one seemed to be offering the same opinions except that Suna was just like that, and you should’ve known better. It made you upset that everyone thought so little of him.

“He’s a good boyfriend” you insisted lamely “he’s thoughtful and considerate and I like him a lot.”

“He doesn’t sound like it” Misa scoffed, earning a sharp nudge from Ami.

“Well, he is” you snapped, immediately feeling guilty “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be like that.” To your surprise Misa laughed.

“Maybe you ought to be more like that” she said, eating another bite thoughtfully “you’re never aggressive or argumentative. Maybe you should raise some hell.”

“Yeah, that sounds mature” Ami said, pushing up her glasses “but maybe being a little more assertive would be beneficial.”

The mix of opinions and advice stayed with you that afternoon. Perhaps you should insist more. You knew Suna had practise that afternoon, and though you’d usually insist on waiting for him, you decided to leave instead and figure out what you needed to do. Tomorrow, he had promised that you two could hang out. It would probably just be watching a movie in his room, or at the very most, going out for pizza. Your fist clenched. You knew what you had to do.

As you predicted, Suna asked you over to watch a really bad movie he had found online that promised bad CGI aliens and not a trace of coherent storytelling. You entered his room, taking care to keep your composure as he accepted the Tupperware box of cookies you baked for the occasion.

“Chocolate chip” he hummed “don’t tell Kita that I’m indulging like this.”

“I’m not making any promises” you said, earning a raised eyebrow from him in response but he said nothing. You bit the inside of your cheek, hesitating before shrugging off your jacket and sitting next to him on his bed. He played the movie on his laptop, putting one arm around you casually.

“You feel stiff” he commented, and you relaxed your muscles, telling yourself to calm down.

“I’m just really tense about these aliens” you said, nodding at the screen where a squadron of lanky green creatures discussed their plan to blow up the Earth. Out the corner of your eye you saw him smile and held your breath when he pressed his cheek against the top of your head. Already your resolve was melting. Maybe you had been exaggerating his lack of attention? Maybe he had snapped out of it? You snuggled into his chest, feeling happier already.

Then he reached for his phone.

You snuck a glance up at him, wanting to gauge how distracted he was. His face was impassive as his thumb scrolled down his twitter feed. He stopped to read something before continuing.

“Rin” you said softly. He did nothing. “Rintaro.” Nothing again. You nudged your foot down onto the spacebar of his laptop to pause the film. He didn’t notice. You bit your lip. It was now or never.

“Suna Rintaro” you said in a clipped tone, swinging your leg over so you were straddling him. He dropped his phone and it bounced off the bed and onto the floor.

“What… What are you doing?” You grasped his chin, bringing it up so that he had no choice but to look at you.

“Pay attention to me” you said with a frown “you’re always on your phone when we’re together and you act like I’m not even here.” You felt yourself swallow nervously and your face flush with heat, but you pushed yourself to keep it up.

“Am I boring you?”

He blinked at you “no.”

Unsatisfied you clicked your tongue “do you still like me?”

“Yes.”

“Then why don’t you look at me instead? Or respond when I call you? It’s not nice of you.” He opened his mouth and then closed it again, considering his words.

“I’m sorry, angel” he said, using the pet name that he only brought out on rare occasions “I didn’t mean to ignore you. You’re right it wasn’t fair of me. Can you forgive me?” You could feel your heart hammer in your chest as he glanced up at you, loosening your grip on his chin with his hand and then pressing a kiss to it. His expression was so tender; something you’d seldom see unless you were in the midst of passion.

You pressed your lips together for a moment and said “no.”

“No?” He repeated, furrowing his brow in confusion.

“No” you said firmer, fisting the material of his t-shirt. Your knuckles brushed against the milky white of his skin.

“Your actions have consequences, Rintaro” you said, “I will not be ignored.”

“Oh?” he murmured, his hands lingered on the backs of your thighs and inched their way up your skirt.

“R-Rin” you struggled to maintain your demeanour “I’m serious.”

“I know but you’re so cute when you’re serious” he cooed, squeezing your flesh and smiling when you bit your lip “hmm these feel different.” He let go of your ass and brought his hands around to the front of your skirt, lifting it and whistling at your new purchase.

“They’re a new set” you mumbled.

“Pretty” his eyes darkened as he took in the vision of you in black lace “is this why Atsumu was talking about lace?”

You spluttered “w-what? How do you know about that?” He shrugged playfully, letting your skirt fall back down in exchange for undoing the buttons of your blouse.

“Everyone knows Atsumu can’t keep a secret” he hummed in pleasure at the sight of the matching bra “all this for me?”

“I have to get your attention somehow” you muttered, looking away from him.

“Angel” he called “I am sorry about that. Let me make it up to you.” He leaned forward to press a kiss onto your sternum. He continued to pepper your heated skin with kisses to get you to look at him again.

You sighed “you’re hard to be mad at.”

He smiled triumphantly “does that mean I’m forgiven?”

“No.”

“You’re a tough cookie” he said, “I guess I’ll have to try harder.” One arm curled around your waist, pushing you closer to him so he was able to capture your lips. He smiled when he elicited a soft gasp from you as his free hand gripped your thigh. He kneaded the flesh, making you tremble in anticipation as his lips continued to kiss your own. He hissed when you bit down on his bottom lip, making you feel bolder. You kissed down the column of his neck, pulling his shirt and prompting him to take it off. Before the shirt could hit the ground you latched your mouth onto his shoulder, biting down onto his skin and making him curse under his breath. You pulled away to lick the tender skin, leaning back to survey your work.

“You are being punished for your crimes” you said, “bad Rintaro.” You crawled off him, shutting his laptop gently and placing it on the ground. You expected him to wait; after all, your streak of confidence had rendered him speechless. You forgot however, that just as he was on the court, he adapted easily to new situations. He grabbed you from behind, making you squeak in surprise at how swift he was. His arms were wrapped tightly around you, preventing you from moving despite your struggles. His chin rested on your shoulder and you could hear his breath on the shell of your ear.

“Just when I think I have you all figured out, you throw something like that on me.” He licked a stripe up the pillar of your neck, chuckling when you shuddered in pleasure. To be honest, even you were surprised by his actions. Usually sex was a soft experience, with him being gentle and slow as he coaxed orgasms out of you. This time he was rougher; no longer wanting to be lazy and indulgent.

“Rin” you whined when he began kissing the spot near the base of your neck that he knew made you weak “you’re meant to be facing punishment for your behaviour.”

“Aw, am I still not forgiven yet?” he nuzzled into your neck “hmmm I suppose I deserve it. How could I neglect my angel like that?” He loosened his grip on you, letting you wiggle out of his grasp. You turned, feeling a heady mixture of intoxicated by his presence and nervous as you tried to anticipate what to do next. A certain idea had been playing on your mind for a while, but you lacked the conviction to undertake it. You pressed your lips against him hard instead, wanting to build up a little more courage. He was more than happy to accommodate, kissing you back with equal vigour.

“Fuck” he mumbled under his breath when you kissed his jaw, allowing your hand to traverse down to the planes of his stomach. You stroked his skin softly, enjoying the soft trail of hair that led you down to the waistband of his sweats. His breath hitched, and you felt empowered by your ability to make his brain glitch. You leaned back, biting your lip as you palmed the outline of his dick. His eyes fluttered shut, and he began breathing harder when you shed the layers of fabric and touched him. You stroked up and down his shaft a few times, wetting your lips as you watched him groan softly. You swallowed your nerves and leaned your head down to kitten lick the head of his dick.

“Is this okay?” you gazed up at him through your lashes as you continued to lavish your tongue over his flesh. This was a first for you.

“Y-you. Uh, yes but you don’t ha- fuck” he struggled to say anything coherent when you took him in your mouth. His hand petted your hair at first, encouraging you to continue, and you experimentally took more of him into your mouth. The sensation was foreign, and you felt your throat protest against the invasion.

“Don’t push yourself, angel” Rin panted, and you pulled back a bit, using your hand to help where your mouth struggled to reach. You tussled at first to find a comfortable rhythm, but Suna’s soft, sinful sounds pushed you to try. You let him poke into the flesh of the inside of your cheek, trying to find what would feel best for him.

“Good girl” he mumbled, holding your hair like a makeshift ponytail. The words immediately made a rush of heated lust swell inside of you, increasing your speed. Suna’s words began to sound less intelligible as you continued, and you were surprised that his thighs were beginning to quake. You pulled away, watching him whine from the loss of your warm, wet mouth. It ached a little, you realised, touching your jaw lightly.

“You’re such a fuckin tease” Rin huffed, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his pouty face.

“You brought this on yourself” you said, sticking out your tongue “but I think you’ve learnt your lesson now.”

“Finally,” he groaned, pushing you down so your back was flat against the mattress. He positioned himself so he was pressing against you “now let me pay some attention to you.”

#fanfickittycat #updates #writing #haikyu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu suna #suna #suna rinatro #suna rintaro headcanons #suna rintaro x you #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro oneshot #pay attention to me #suna x oc

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cuddlepilefics · 4 years ago

Text

He can help

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Seungmin

Caregiver: Chan

No one’s POV.:

It had been a long day for all of Stray Kids. They had had three interviews and finished the day with a grueling dance practice. All of them were happy when they finally returned to the dorm for the evening. While the members took turns showering, Chan and Minho cooked dinner for the group. The first who finished freshening up, were Jeongin and Felix, the two laid the table, so they’d all be able to eat as soon as everyone had their shower. Not really having had the time to eat a proper lunch, the members felt like they’ve been starving. Especially Seungmin had complained the entire way back that his stomach was slowly digesting itself if he didn’t feed it anytime soon. Although now, that the food was on the food was on the table, his demeanor had changed completely. He didn’t dig in immediately like one would expect him to. Instead, he seemed hesitant, being the last one to pick up his chopsticks.

Seungmin himself was confused. He remembered being unbearably hungry towards the end of their dance practice but now that the room was filled with the savory scent of their dinner and there was a plate in front of him, the food suddenly didn’t seem as appetizing. His hunger seemed to have completely vanished and he couldn’t figure out why. Maybe he was just past the point of being hungry and the uncomfortable churning in his guts were hunger pains, so Seungmin picked up his chopsticks and started to eat. Chewing on some grilled meat, he felt like eating was the wrong thing to be doing right now but he couldn’t tell why. Minho certainly hadn’t gone easy on them today and the second youngest still felt shaky, like he had completely out done himself over the last few hours. He forced himself to eat at least half of his meal before pushing the plate away and resting his aching head on his folded arms. “Seungmin, you’ve been complaining about starving the entire time and now you’re now eating. Are you kidding me?”, Minho frowned. Seungmin lifted his head and gave the dancer an angry glare, frowning: “Yah, hyung. You’ve wrecked us with practice today and now you blame me for being exhausted?” – “Aww, is our little puppy tired?”, the second oldest mocked and Seungmin had to refrain from throwing his chopsticks at him. Chan only chuckled at the pair’s bickering but was silently wondering why the younger didn’t eat more of his dinner.

The truth was, the few bites Seungmin had pushed down, didn’t seem to sit right with him. Yeah, he had felt sore and exhausted earlier, which was to be expected after dancing so much. His head had been hurting a bit too, that could also be explained by the length of their schedule but now that his stomach was feeling a bit off too, the vocalist started to get confused. Maybe he was just stressed and running himself down, maybe he was coming down with something. Either way, a good sleep was the key to fixing many problems and he was tired anyways, so it wouldn’t be difficult to head to bed early tonight. Helping his members clear the table, Seungmin stayed in the kitchen a bit longer to make himself a cup of peppermint tea, which he took back to his room. “Good night, guys”, he said, waving at the others watching TV in the living room. Hyunjin got up with a frown, approaching the younger: “You’re already going to bed? It’s still early, don’t you want to join us?” – “Hyung, you were almost as bad as Minho-hyung today. Not everybody has as much stamina as you”, Seungmin stated, rolling his eyes, “any other day, I’d love to join but I’m really tired, so I’ll be turning in early today.” – “Alright, alright”, Hyunjin chuckled, hugging his dongsaeng, “sleep well, Minho and I will be quiet when we go to bed later.” Seungmin’s smile turned into a yawn, earning a smile from his hyung. With another small wave, he turned around and made his way to his room.

Originally, Seungmin had planned to just read another chapter of his book till he had finished his tea but feeling his head to heavy and eyes to sore to do so, he just put on his headphones and listened to Day6 on low volume, while sipping his tea. His back resting against the head board and his legs drawn close to his chest, he became more aware of the discomfort in his stomach, so he left a few sips of his tea and put the cup on the nightstand before turning of the light and wiggling down into a flat position, curled up on his side. As expected, it didn’t take long for sleep to pull him under. To his disappointment though, Seungmin woke up again, almost as quickly as he had fallen asleep. A short glance over at his roommates’ beds proved that he had in fact been asleep for quite some time, seeing them knocked out. He didn’t have to search for long to find the reason for waking up at this ungodly hour. The slight discomfort in his abdomen had turned into something much worse and now his stomach was churning angrily. Cold sweat coated Seungmin’s forehead and he could keep from shaking, feeling painfully cold. The vocalist nearly broke into tears. It had been a while since he had last felt this bad and back then, he was at home with his parents. His mom had made him tea and gave him a hot water bottle, while Seungmin was curled up on the couch, watching movies with his older sister. Now though, now he wasn’t at home anymore. Despite living with more people than ever before, Seungmin felt alone and he hated to be alone when he was this sick.

Seungmin thought about waking up at least one of his hyungs but he wasn’t sure. He was pretty sure, they were similarly as tired as him, so he would feel bad about depriving them of their precious sleep. After a few minutes of sitting on his bed, he had to realize that he’d feel just as bad if not worse, if he had to suffer by himself. Seungmin had already made up his mind about whom he’d go to. It was obvious really. ‘He can help. Channie-hyung always knows how to help’, the second youngest thought, placing his bare feet onto the cold floor. He shivered and when he left his room, he had to hold onto the door frame for a few seconds, almost getting knocked over by a sudden dizzy spell. Shuffling down the hallway to his hyung’s room, Seungmin steadied himself against the wall, cursing his shaky legs for not getting him where he wanted to be. A cramp tore at his stomach, causing the vocalist to sink into a crouch with one hand pressed firmly into his middle as he tried not to cry out and wake everyone. The next few minutes, he spent, leaning against the wall in the hallway, as he tried to breathe through the pain. It was cold and he truly regretted not taking his blanket with him.

At some point, the pain lessened a bit and Seungmin pulled himself together, struggling to his feet, so he could continue his journey. Quietly, he slipped into the room and stared at the leader’s sleeping figure, feeling guilty that he had to wake him when he was sleeping for once, a rare occurrence. He reached out and gently shook Chan’s shoulder. When he got no reaction, he decided to shake him a bit harder, earning a small grunt before the older turned over and continued sleeping. Growing desperate, Seungmin gave the leader’s shoulder a rough shove, which caused him to sit up startled. Chan looked around confused and still half-asleep and found Seungmin standing next to his bed like a lost puppy. “What’s going on?”, he whispered. The younger drew in a shaky breath and mumbled brokenly: “H-Hyung.” Sensing something wasn’t right, Chan clambered out of bed. He noticed the other shivering, so he through his blanket over his shoulder before putting a hand on Seungmin’s back to guide him to the living room, where they could talk without waking Chan’s roommates up.

Seungmin dropped down on the couch and immediately pulled his legs closer to his chest. Wrapping his blanket around the younger’s shoulders, the leader crouched down to eye-level and frowned: “Now Minnie, tell me what’s wrong.” – “Hyung, I-I feel really sick and I didn’t know what to do and I’m sorry for waking you up because you barely sleep but I just felt so bad and I didn’t want to be alone and…”, Seungmin rambled, getting cut of when Chan calmly sat down beside him and squeezed his shoulder. “It’s okay, I’m glad you woke me up when you’re now feeling well. Can you tell me what doesn’t feel right, so I can figure out how to help you?”, Chan smiled sympathetically. The younger pulled the blanket tighter around himself, desperate for warmth, and sniffled: “I-I’m really cold, my head hurts and my stomach is really upset.” – “I see. How long have you felt like that? I figured that’s why you ate so little during dinner and went to bed early?” – “Yeah”, Seungmin nodded, “I started feeling a bit off during dinner but it wasn’t really bad but then I woke up not too long ago and suddenly it was a lot worse.” – “Alright, let me get some stuff. Do you feel like you need to be sick?”, Chan asked getting up. Seungmin just shrugged and watched the leader disappear.

He was drifting in and out of consciousness, when Chan returned, setting down a bucket next to the couch. The leader gently brushed the younger’s sweaty hair off of his forehead and tilted his head a bit so he could take his temperature, frowning as it was confirmed what he had already expected. Seungmin was running a pretty high fever, so this was unlikely to be a result of stress or his food not agreeing with him, this was most likely some bug that the vocalist had managed to pick up. “Minnie, how do I help you best? Do you feel like you can stomach some tea or would you rather not drink anything right now?”, Chan asked, carding his fingers through his dongsaeng’s hair. He wasn’t sure if the thick blanket was really doing Seungmin any good with how high his fever was but the leader didn’t have the heart to take it away, considering how violently his dongsaeng was shivering. Seungmin blinked his glossy eyes open and rasped: “I don’t think it would stay in if I drink something right now. Could you maybe make me a hot water bottle?” – “I’m sorry, puppy, that would raise your fever even higher. I could rub your tummy instead?”, Chan frowned apologetically. Seungmin shook his head, not really wanting his sensitive stomach to be touched. Chan helplessly bit his lip, when he suddenly had an idea. He told the younger to hang in there, while he got up.

“Here, I remembered I still have those ginger gummies. Usually, they are meant for motion sickness but ginger is good for nausea in general, if you’d like to try that”, Chan explained. Seungmin nodded and took the gummy the leader handed him. Had he nod felt absolutely awful, he had chuckled at the smile face that almost made it look like candy. He kept it on his tongue, sucking on it and tasting the mild spicy flavor. Pulling a chair close, Chan took a seat next to the couch and played with his dongsaeng’s hair. He smiled as he watched the younger relax, humming: “Just try to get some rest, maybe you can sleep most of this off till tomorrow.” Seungmin nodded sleepily and snuggled deeper into the blanket. Maybe Chan was right, maybe he could actually get some sleep. The hand in his hair was certainly helping to make him drowsy.

Seungmin was slowly drifting off, when his body started to flush with heat, making sweat break out on his forehead and back. His mouth started to water and his stomach was swirling. With a weak whimper, he lifted a hand to his mouth, muffling a breathy burp as he struggled to sit up. Chan seemed to grasp the situation quickly, helped the younger sit up and placed the bucket into his lap. Being moved to an upright position, made Seungmin’s head spin and be just crossed his arms over the bucket and rested his head on them. Why was his stomach hating him so much? Chan noticed him swaying and steadied him with one hand on his back and one hand holding the bucket. Feeling his stomach contract, Seungmin mentally prepared himself but all that came up was some air that brought the taste of his dinner. Cringing at the taste, the boy hiccupped before burping wetly. This time, he could actually feel the liquid splash against the back of his throat and moved a trembling hand to get a better grip on the bucket. He gave a small cough, that triggered a gag. Chan whispered gentle reassurances before giving his back a few rough pats, which brought his dinner up his throat. The splashing sound of his stomach contents hitting the plastic container sent shivers down Seungmin’s spine. Retching again, his stomach was eager to get everything up. He was left panting between the waves, having to rely on his hyung to keep him up, as his head was spinning faster and faster. “It’s okay. I got you”, the older whispered, “Deep breaths, it’ll be over soon.”

Seungmin so badly wanted to believe him, so badly wanted all of this to be over. He spat into the bucket, burying his head deeper before choking up a thin stream of bile. It really seemed like he was empty, yet his stomach wouldn’t stop throwing a fit, leaving him dry heaving for what must have been ten minutes. His throat felt abused by the acid and the strain put on it from trying to force something up when there was nothing. Seungmin’s stomach slowly calmed down, so Chan deemed it safe to place the bucket back onto the ground and helped the younger to lay down again, whispering: “Stay awake just a bit longer, yeah? I’ll get you some cool water for your throat and to wash away the taste.” He really didn’t take long, soon propping Seungmin up again and lifting a glass to his swollen lips. The vocalist greedily chugged it, sighing at the relief it brought his throat. It made Chan frown and he pulled the glass away from time to time, afraid his dongsaeng would make himself sick again. Placing down the empty glass, he helped Seungmin peel off his sweaty shirt and got the younger situated again with the blanket only covering his legs and waist, so he could cool down a bit. The leader then went to clean out the bucket, which they’d certainly be needing again later. He also fetched a damp washcloth before making his way back to the living room. Seungmin was barely awake by the time Chan came back. He didn’t feel hot anymore and was instead shivering with the blanket pulled up to his chin. The leader couldn’t help but sigh at the pitiful sight. He used the washcloth to clean the tear-tracks and caked sweat from the younger’s face, wiping his chin and folding the cloth to lay it across the fever-hot forehead. Pulling the chair closer, the oldest hyung prepared himself for a long night as he listened to his dongsaeng’s labored breathing and continued to play with his sweaty messed up hair.

#stray kids #skz #sick #sickfic #fanfic #fanfiction #emeto #whump #fluff #comfort #kim seungmin #bang chan

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amelialincoln · 4 years ago

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Electric Love

im sorry to those who were expecting an amelink fic. i guess what else would you expect (im sorry). but i also really enjoy reading Marecal fics from Red Queen and tbh I've been loving amelink this season but the last two episodes have left me feeling a bit disappointed with the lack of cutesy, romantic shit that i live for and i’ve just been feeling unmotivated. so i hope some of you can enjoy this fic. i know it isn’t a huge fandom but it’s a wholesome one so maybe i can find some marecal shippers in the greys anatomy fandom :)

Mare’s eyes shone with amusement as Rafe tumbled back into the mud. They both were panting and the sky swirled above them, tainted with purple and green.

“That was pathetic.” She grinned.

“Hey, cut me some slack, I’ve been training with Ella for the last six months and, as powerful as she is, she’s no combat fighter.” Despite being exhausted, he wiped the blood from his chin and green lighting sparked at his fingertips. “Let’s put the physical fighting to rest and level out the playing field a bit.” Mare’s expression darkened and she tried to hide her reaction. The training she’d done ever since she and Cal had started their training camp in Norta had been minimal. Cal had tried to pass off all royal responsibilities after the war but the palace had too much of a perfect training arena to pass up. They’d kept saying they would build their own centre in the Westlakes region so Mare could be closer to home, but the amount of newblood prodigies they’d discovered since they’d started the camp was too impressive to leave behind. And despite everything, she’d rarely used her abilities lately. A couple weeks back she’d gotten out of control. She wasn’t sure where it had come from but she’d never experienced anything like it. Ever since she could sense something different. Something that was causing an imbalance inside of her. She’d mentioned none of it to Cal, simply asking if she could work on combat instead of ability training. He’d showed some confusion but didn’t press it, assuming she was wanting to brush up on fighting skills. “Come on, Mare,” Rafe joked, “are you scared?”

“No.” She found herself yearning for the feeling of electricity coursing through her veins. She was surprised by how easily she summoned it after three weeks of suppression. She felt herself wondering if she’d created the whole situation in her head. Rafe shot a web of green energy at her to bring her back to reality.

“You’re distracted,” he observed.

“Never,” she replied. A bolt of lighting hit the ground beside him, causing him to jump. Rafe grinned and the hill lit up with green.

Mare was full of exhilaration, summoning lighting from the thundering sky above in ways that she’d forgotten she was capable of. If she were fighting Ella they probably would’ve torn the mountain apart by now but Rafe easily absorbed the purple bolts into the webs of his own and they reflected back up into the sky. Mare dodged the ones he sent her way, letting them sizzle into the grass behind her. Rain began to pour down on them and the purple bolts of lighting were coming down quickly and sporadically.

“Mare, cut it out with the rain,” Rafe yelled over the thundering noise. Mare looked up into the sky nervously, she hadn’t asked for the rain. She noticed a swirling pattern of lighting that was churning in the clouds, one she hadn’t called upon.

“I didn’t--” she started before she was knocked to the ground, a green light washed over her and she was left tingling. Rafe rushed over to her.

“I thought you were paying attention, sorry.”

“I probably deserved that,” she muttered, wiping mud off her cheeks.

“Call it off, let's head inside.” Mare nodded, wishing the clouds to disperse and the lighting to suppress. The storm only got more intense, she could feel the hair stand up on the back of her neck, Rafe seemed to notice it too. “Mare, call it off!” Lightning stuck too close to the pair, leaving the ground sizzling with purple, hot flames. Mare was suddenly happy for the rain. “What are you doing?” He yelled. Mare felt a wave of nausea roll over her. The hair on the back of her neck stood up again. “Mare!” She could hear the fear in his voice. He cupped her face in his hands. “Focus!” Mare felt her entire body shake as the rain stopped and static electricity was sucked out of the air. She fell back in exhaustion, her body trembling in sweat. “Jesus.” Rafe glanced around at the damage that their fight had caused.

“We should head back,” Mare grimaced.

They had a silent journey home. Usually they would run but Mare seemed so exhausted that Rafe hadn’t mentioned it. The trek seemed about a million hours long but finally they said their goodbyes as they neared the entrance of the kingdom.

“Tell Ella and Tyton that I say hi,” she mentioned softly.

“I will,” he promised, studying his friend with concern.

“Thanks for demonstrating at camp today, I know it meant a lot to the kids.”

“No worries,” he shrugged. “You should come and train with us though. It’s easy to get out of practice when there’s no other electricons to drill with.” He was worried he’d overstepped but was relieved when Mare nodded in response.

“Hey, you look like you got a good workout. I could see the storm you created from here.” Cal embraced her tightly as she let herself into their room. “You okay?” He asked as she winced.

“Yeah, just sore,” she muttered, trying to ignore his confusion as she pushed passed him.

“What’s wrong?” He pressed, sensing her anger.

“I’m just out of practice.” She stepped into their bathroom, turning on the shower.

“I’ve noticed.” He ignored the glare she shot him as he sat on the toilet seat while she undressed and stepped under the stream of water, covered in mud. “You haven’t really been training.” Mare sighed, watching the mud swirl off her in pools of grey. She stepped out of the shower once the water turned clear and was surprised to find Cal still waiting with a towel. “Mare,” he breathed, tracing his hand along her ribcage. She was covered in jagged burns. “What happened?”

“They don’t hurt.” She shrugged, which was a lie.

“Did Rafe hit you?”

“It was an accident, I wasn’t paying attention,” she grimaced as he wrapped her in the towel. Cal didn’t know Mare to be the type of person to not pay attention while fighting. If anything she was more aware of her surroundings than anyone he knew.

“I’ll tell Sara to come up.” He walked out of the room before she could protest, as he knew she would.

They were sitting on the bed when Sara arrived. Mare was draped in one of Cal’s t-shirts that seemed to be drowning her. She couldn’t manage to put on any restrictive clothing without grimacing in pain. Cal had thrown the shirt at her after watching her sort through her clothes for too long, which she’d pulled on happily.

“Cal,” Sara greeted the obviously concerned brunette as she followed him into the living room. He and Mare had built the apartment over the training centre, not wanting to live in the palace considering that sleeping there caused them both to have nightmares every time they tried to close their eyes. She eyed Mare, knowing immediately that something was off. She’d barely seen the young woman over the last couple of weeks and had been trying not to worry after hearing whisperings around the palace that she’d been barely eating. Despite the couple no longer living in the palace, they both usually had no problem requesting food from the kitchen. Apparently Mare was an awful cook, to which Sara wasn’t surprised. Mare lifted her shirt to reveal the blisters that were beginning to form in swirling patterns on her skin. Cal seemed to flinch. Sara was surprised by his reaction to seeing his girlfriend in pain, no doubt after experiencing it many times before. Mare sighed as Sara’s hands began to soothe her skin. The tingling of the burns began to diminish and the soreness in her lower back had also begun to suppress. She glanced up to see that Sara had paused, her palms hovered in place.

“Mare, have you noticed any changes lately?” She questioned softly. Mare glanced at Cal who was eyeing her as he bit the skin on his fingertips.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. Sara ignored him, waiting for Mare to respond. Mare nodded slowly.

“I’ve felt out of control,” she replied so softly that Cal could hardly hear it. “I noticed it a couple of weeks ago so I stopped for a bit. Today when I was training with Rafe...it got bad.” Sara nodded, although what Mare had told her was not what she’d been expecting.

“Sara--” Cal started, his voice filled with worry.

“She’s pregnant,” she interrupted him. “Three weeks.” The room’s temperature climbed to what seemed like a thousand degrees and the lights above flickered. Sara couldn’t help but suppress an amused smile at their reactions. Mare burst into tears and the healer immediately removed her hands from the trembling girl’s stomach.

“Thank you, Sara,” Cal shifted awkwardly on his feet as she practically fled from the room. He took Mare into his arms rocking her slightly back and forth, it was rare that she cried and he hadn’t seen her bawl like this in what seemed like years. “Hey, Mare, it’s okay,” he tried.

“Cal, you don’t understand.” She wiped the tears from her eyes and tried to sit up. “What happened today scared me. I thought I was going to kill him.”

“What do you mean?” Cal asked, his voice was sympathetic as he rubbed her back in an attempt to comfort her, stealing occasional, curious looks at her stomach.

“It started a couple weeks ago,” she explained as he raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to worry you. I was demonstrating for some of the newbloods and suddenly I felt everything pause, as if the lightning had slipped out of my grasp. It struck more powerfully than I’ve seen it, about ten meters away. The kids were impressed because they thought I was controlling it but I wasn’t. After that I decided to take a break. I was scared that it would happen again and hurt someone. Today was...bad.”

“You think someone else is controlling it when you slip?” He asked. “Or controlling you?”

“I don’t know,” she shuddered.

“You think it might be the baby?” He added tentatively.

“I doubt a fetus could…” She trailed off. “I mean, I have no idea,” she finally confessed.

“Can we talk about this? Can you tell me how you’re feeling?” Mare bit her lip uncomfortably.

“I should’ve noticed sooner. I’ve been nauseous and been feeling more tired than usual. My cycle has always been irregular since I lost it in the war,” she admitted. “We’ve just been so busy.”

“When I’ve brought up having kids in the past you’ve never seemed enthusiastic.”

“I don’t think I’d be a good mom,” she confessed. “We also both get our fair share of PTSD episodes.” Cal grimaced at that. “I just have never felt ready to bring a child into this world. That’s why I’ve always been so careful about taking those pills Farley gave me. I don’t know what happened.”

“That makes sense,” he assured her before adding, “we’d have a pretty cool kid,”

“Yeah, we would,” Mare breathed, placing a tentative hand on her stomach. “Gisa’s gonna freak.”

“Your Mom would want us to move to the Westlakes immediately,” he joked. Mare smiled at the thought but Cal could sense the worry in her eyes. “Hey, if you don’t want to have it, I’ll support you.” To his surprise Mare shook her head.

“I love you, Cal. I know how much you want this and I see how good you are with the children at camp. Even though it’s not great timing and it might just be the hormones, I don’t want to make a choice that I’ll regret.”

“So we’re having a baby?” Cal asked, trying to conceal his excitement.

“I guess so?” Mare wiped another tear with Cal’s massive t-shirt sleeve. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without training for nine months.”

“You think it all has something to do with the baby?”

“Three weeks works out pretty well with when I first noticed the change.” She nodded. “Our baby seems like she’s going to be a bit like her mom.”

“Her?” Cal asked, grinning ear to ear.

“I have a hunch,” Mare shrugged, laughing as Cal gently pushed her back against the mattress and covered her face in kisses.

“Nah he’ll be burning your insides in no time. The lightning thing was just a fluke.”

“Does that actually happen?” Mare froze.

“God no,” he laughed. “Though Maven and I found out about our abilities pretty young. Our parents pressed the testing on us pretty early. They wanted to start our training as soon as possible. I don’t think the palace staff appreciated unpredictable five year old fire wielders.”

“Oh god,” Mare shook her head at the thought as Call pulled the duvet over her. “Cal it’s nine.”

“You said you’ve been feeling tired,” he said firmly.

“Tomorrow is Sunday, there’s no camp anyways.”

“Perfect, you can sleep in too. My baby is tired.” Mare rolled her eyes at that, knowing she’d have a long nine months ahead of her.

“Fine, but you have to come to bed as well,” she bargained.

“I told Julian--”

“Nope, I’m actually carrying your child which makes me more important than Julian.” She smiled as she watched frustration pass over Cal’s face.

“Fine,” he finally sighed, swifty removing his shirt in one swift motion and wrapping his arms around her. Mare yawned, allowing herself to finally relax into their bed. “If you think you’re fighting combat you’re insane.” Cal’s voice pulled her out of sleep.

“If you think I’m going to sit on my ass all day you’re insane,” she shrugged, rolling over. Cal sighed as he heard Mare’s breathing begin to deepen.

“I know.”

#marecal #redqueen #red queen #marecalfanfic #marecal fanfic #broken throne #war storm #glass sword #marebarrow #mare barrow #tiberias calore #diana farley #victoria aveyard #red queen fanfiction

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redhawtriot · 5 years ago

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Baby Boom (Bakugou x Reader)

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

I felt as though since this story had such a specific narrative (especially delving into the harsh world of modeling and the effects of discrimination) that it would reach out to a very specific niche of reader.

I was actually astonished by loud support this fic has obtained so for, so thank you so much! I cannot stress enough how much that means to me.

HnM 💕

Tag-list: @steggy4ever @library-trash @watevermelon @glimmadora-ble @persephones24 @dragonempress123 @your-pri-ncess @broken-from-fandoms @hot-pocket01 @tsukineho

Month 1, Month 3

--Month 2--

No.

You looked at the stick of plastic in your hand with wide eyes as your mouth stuttered into a slack jaw—your breaths hardly making their way in and out of your lungs evenly.

You squeezed your eyes shut so hard that you saw white spots underneath your lids before you snapped them back open again, internally praying that you would wake up form whatever nightmare you were having.

However, you couldn’t blink away the big, fat smiley face that stared back up at you from the piece of purple and white plastic that sealed your fate.

No. No. No!

The sudden urge to puke came back with a vengeance and you threw yourself to the toilet, slamming your knees to the ground in the process. As your stomach lurched up into your chest, you couldn’t tell whether the tears forming in your eyes were from the harshness of the motion or something else entirely.

“Gah!” you loudly choked out as you pulled away from the mess in the toilet.

Once the nausea became slightly less debilitating you leaned back against your bathtub, throwing your head up as you groaned to the ceiling, “No, no, no, nooo…” you softly sobbed. You tried your best to keep from bawling so you didn’t find yourself with your head back in the bowl, but you couldn’t help the stream of hot tears that spilled from your eyes as you stared at the vent in the ceiling.

How could this happen? How could you be… pr...

A sudden stirring in your gut made you swallow hard as you tried to keep your stomach out of your throat.

Don’t be an idiot, Y/N. You took sex education in high school. You put the condom on the banana and were scolded with constant threats of STDs and the fires of Hell like everybody else. So yeah. You know how it happened.

You sighed as you thought back to all the guys you had slept with recently-- which was luckily not too many within the past few months, and only one since your last period.

Fuck, you didn’t even remember what the damn fathe-- guy looked like.

Well, excluding his rippling muscles.

You threw your head into your hands as the uncanny image of a body builder newborn infiltrated your mind. Well, that didn’t fucking help at all. Grabbing your hair tightly as you stared at the tile between your legs, you cursed yourself, “You dumbass! How could you be so goddamn stupid!? Stupid, stupid, stupid!” you repeatedly knocked against your skull.

You reached into the recesses of your memory for any information you might have about the guy. Where was his apartment again...? On the other side of town somewhere right… Near Club 52? God, you didn’t even fucking know! and what did it matter anyway, huh? What were you gonna do? Storm up to his place, pregnancy tests a-blazin’, and tell the complete stranger that you were carrying his kid?!

With a weak and tired moan, you lifted yourself off of your bathroom floor and went to the sink to rinse your bile infested mouth out and wash the salty tears off of your cheeks.

But not before you got a good look at yourself in the mirror.

Swollen eyes.

Red nose.

Drying, teary snot pooling on the rim of your upper lip.

“You look like shit,” you harshly reprimanded yourself before turning the sink on and sticking your face into the cool water. Your hands blindly reached around your counter until you finally grabbed a nearby hand towel to bring to your face. As you patted your cheeks dry, your eyes wandered to the counter where three other positive pregnancy tests that you had taken earlier that morning resided.

The trio all sported a similar smug smile as they looked up to you as if to say ‘we told you so.’

The little shits.

“Shut up.” You quickly grabbed all four tests and with a hint of bitterness chucked them into a nearby trash bin before making your way to your bedroom across the hall.

Plopping down onto your screeching mattress, you took your phone out:

Boss Lady

[2:50 pm]

Hey, brat. I hope you’re doing better.

Don’t forget that we have that runway fitting next week. And the test shots. And the international scouting event.

Think. Thin.

No carbs. No red meats.

NO ALCOHOL!!!

Fucking no alcohol for nine whole months. You attempted to scoff at this, but what came out could have probably been mistaken for the last sounds of a dying animal.

Kimi:

[3:31 pm]

Hope you made it home safe last night!

As you read this text, a piece of you wished that maybe you hadn't made it home safe last night... Your brain briefly wandered into the dark territories of ‘what if’s’ as you imagined falling in front of the train at the subway, walking past a drug deal gone wrong, hell-- drowning on the water you took with your Pepto Bismol. You quickly brushed these thoughts away as you continued looking through your phone,

Boss Lady

[4:45 pm]

Oh, also Deku just asked for a meeting with you personally.

You’re going of course. Glad you got his attention. Good girl.

Tomorrow. 5:00pm. El Vino’s downtown. (EAT LIGHTLY!)

Inches! Inches! Inches!

You slammed your phone down onto your mattress as you loudly sighed.

Inches. Your entire livelihood depended on your damn inches and now there was no way you could maintain the “golden ratio.” The thought made your blood churn.

Modeling… was all that you had. You didn’t have any other fucking talents—no quirk to depend on-- so when would your growing stomach steal your life away?

When do people even start ‘showing’?

You haven’t come across many pregnant women, but all of the ones you have seen either looked like normal people or like freaking beach balls. For some reason your brain couldn’t conjure an intermediate.

Did they just blow up out of nowhere? If so, then when? How long could you pull a ruse off before your growing organ snitched on you? 5 months? 6 months? Next fucking week?

You realized then that you knew next to jack squat about pregnancy.

Or damn kids for that matter.

Okay so... abortion? For some reason, even just the thought of that word made an icky taste surge in your mouth—or maybe it was the leftover vomit, who knows?

To be honest, you had never really thought much on abortion before—it was one of the many topics filed into your brain under ‘that does not and will not pertain to me, so why the fuck should I care?’ Filtered out and forgotten, your feelings on abortion had yet to be developed.

Until now.

After a few beats, you opened your phone back up and began to dial Kimi, fearing that you might soon explode with the brunt of knowledge that weighed heavily upon your shoulders.

You paused.

Had you ever actually talked to her about anything that wasn’t exclusively work related? In the past two years of knowing her, have you ever actually learned anything about her, and she about you? Very suddenly, you were slapped in the face by a crude fact: Kimi was just a work-friend.

That was fucking fine and dandy up until now. You pretty much either worked, or drank, or showed up to work drunk. But now…

Shit.

Who the hell else could you call? You barely had any friends, and you hadn’t talked to your family in what felt like ages. Who was there for situations like this? If half of your life was working, and half of your life was drinking, and your work friends were a no go… what about your drinking friends? Your mind briefly fled to the stashes of your best buddies-- vodka and tequila-- that you kept in your kitchen.

But not even they could save you now.

Fuck you really were alone.

That night, you found yourself constantly flipping your pillow to find a new dry spot to assault with fresh tears. You hadn’t cried so much since you were a kid. Wait-- come to think of it, you couldn’t even remember the last time you had cried at all.

So, was it hormones? Pregnancy hormones?

The surreal thought made your tears fly down your face even more furiously.

The next evening there was practically no trace or evidence of your mental breakdown from the night before as you strolled up to El Vino’s. It was honestly kind of frightening how quickly you had managed to pull yourself together before this little meeting—but mostly, it was empowering.

Okay, Y/N. You fucking got this. Hormones or not, you were still a baddie to your very core.

Deku was easy enough to spot in the little Mediterranean themed restaurant—with the green-ass hair and all. You strolled up to the table with the warmest smile that you could muster, “Mr. Deku,” you quickly approached his table and gave a slight bow.

“H-Hey!” You seemed to startle him with your sudden appearance. He jumped a bit in his seat and awkwardly shifted as you made your way to your own chair. His face was a bit red as you maintained your eyes on his shying expression.

“Look, before you say anything. I just want to say sorry,” his shocked eyes suddenly snapped back up to yours as you continued, “I had no idea that the event was yours and I probably ruined the rest of the night for you. If you want me off the brand deal, then I completely understand, just... don’t blame Ainu’s agency.”

His mouth fumbled over itself for a moment, causing you to quirk an unsure eyebrow before he could finally speak up, “No t-that’s not what I am here for at all, Miss L/N.”

“Call me Y/N. please,” your smirk was a little less sure than usual and you prayed that he couldn’t detect how off he had thrown you. This was going much different than you had expected it to. For one, he wasn’t trying to ‘put you in your place for disrespecting him’ or bargain sex ‘as an apology’ like most power hungry men in his position would.

“Okay, M-miss Y/N,” the blush that adorned his cheeks confused you even further and you felt the space between your eyebrows involuntarily tighten. That was another thing… He didn’t seem like a typical man in a position of power. He was… soft... you didn’t know how else to explain it other than unusual for a man of his size and stature.

“I actually wanted to apologize to you,” he spoke up once more and you were completely lost by then. You could only blink as he continued to speak, “You really got me thinking about things the other night-- you were totally right. The brand of my sneakers did lose its true meaning. I really meant to have it be a symbol for kids growing up without a quirk to enjoy—to give them hope, but it turned into more of an endorsement to myself. The whole thing. It was wrong. That’s why I have decided to give 100% of my personal Red Sneakers profits to establishing my Quirkless Youth Initiative,”

You looked around for any hidden cameras—any hidden agenda behind his motives before looking back to him with a stiff expression. You had to physically keep your face from scrunching, “And just how are you going to make a living out of a mindset like that?” you dared to call his bluff.

“It’s just gonna have to work. It’s what my mentor would have done—given 100%. Beyond actually.”

Holy shit. This man was being serious. ‘100% and beyond’ serious, to be exact. Your face scrunched up once more, “Why do you care so much anyway?” you cut back on your tone as you noticed his eyes widen a bit at your accusatory voice, “Not to be rude, but… what’s a strong hero like you doing caring about us quirkless?”

He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment or two. Contemplating on whether or not he was going to lie, you noticed, “I… I… didn’t have a quirk until much later in life. I was 14. Growing up, I always wanted to be a hero, and I just wish that I had someone back then believe in me. I want to be the one that tells kid’s—with a smile-- that they can do it. That they have at least one person who believes in them.”

His name-- Deku-- it meant worthless. The puzzle pieces were finally coming together and things began to make sense. It was a name that either himself or others used to describe him when he was growing up probably, and the man had taken it and spun it around to make it his own. Even you had to admit--

“That’s pretty damn impressive,” you couldn’t help the curl that tugged into the corners of your lips as Deku bashfully looked away from you,

“It’s nothing, really!” he tried to deflect. You gave a small laugh before smoothly bringing up the glass of wine in front of you to your lips. As soon as the liquid rushed in your mouth, your eyes flew wide open with realization,

Shit! What the fuck were you doing?

You immediately spit the alcohol back into your cup and snapped your eyes back to Deku who had, thankfully, been too caught up in his own embarrassment to be paying attention to you. You gave a sigh of relief and sat the wine glass as far away from you as inconspicuously possible.

“So,” you leaned into the table a bit to get his eyes back on you, “Tell me about this Quirkless Youth Initiative,” you smiled.

From that point on, you and Deku actually found talking to each other relatively easy—okay, extremely easy. In fact, you stayed past the point of dinner and ended up talking at your table hours after the bill had been paid.

You talked about everything and nothing altogether and didn’t know just when to end the conversation. You lowered your borders for some reason. Well-- you knew the reason. It was because you had been dying to talk to someone since you found out that you were the ‘p-word.’

He ended up walking you home. Past that, for the next two weeks you guys pretty much saw each other every other day or two and talked fairly regularly. Things became habitual.

In fact.

As you stood in the beaming light of the wardrobe, getting your makeup done, you found yourself stealing little glances here and there to your phone to text with your new friend, Deku. Every buzz of your phone left you with a giddy sense of excitement.

One of the models sharing the gigantic mirror with you quickly took notice of your demeanor, “What are you smiling at, Y/N?”

“She’s texting someone,” another spoke up as your friend/babysitter, Kimi strolled up next to you,

“What?! Y/N L/N texting someone back? Have we entered the Twilight Zone??” she joked. You only responded with poking your tongue out at her before your phone buzzed again,

Deku:

[1:00 pm]

Good Luck on your runway thing today!

You:

More like run away thing🏃‍♀️💨

Deku:

I could help? Bring comfort snacks?

You:

Most of us haven’t eaten a full meal in days BB

You would literally be stampeded by women

Wait that sounded too good🤔

You will literally be stampeded by hungry women***

Deku:

You haven’t been eating?!

Since when?!

You:

That’s not what I said.

Just pre-show prep to keep the waists snatched and the legends skinny💁‍♀️

Deku:

Sorry I don’t know how your job really works.

I’ll come over again tonight after your show and bring dinner!

If that’s okay. Sorry didn’t mean to sound pushy.

“Didn’t you hear? Her and Deku really hit it off on their date,” Your attention was instantly snapped away from your phone screen.

You gave an ugly snort, “It wasn’t a date.” And you certainly weren’t lying. The friendly atmosphere between you and Izuku felt comfortable as best—nothing intimate about it.

You wouldn't have it any other way. It felt as though he was placed in your life to perfectly fill the holes in your boat just before you started sinking.

“Girl your phone is blowing up!” a co-worker exclaimed, loudly.

Kimi laughed as she pinched your cheeks, “Look at that smile on her face”

All of the commotion gathered the attention of Boss Lady, who was currently storming up to you with the ‘phone box’ (or phone cemetery as some of you liked to call it) in her hand. She liked to have this on her especially in big events like runways or show casings because some of the girls—you were guilty as charged—spent quite a bit of time on their phones behind the scenes, “Phone. Bin. Now.”

Usually, you would put up some type of argument or give a quick-witted remark, but this time around you only rushed to send one final text in before you threw your cellphone into the crate.

You:

[1:33pm]

I should get off at like 11 see you then broccoli boy🥦🤪

Kimi looked terrified as though she was the one who had just incurred Ainu’s wrath, “Still smiling, huh...?”

You hadn’t even notice that you had been.

Talking to Deku really did make you happy when you needed it. Just like he spun ‘deku’ around and made it make sense, he had spun your life around and did the same. He made you feel like life was normal—whatever the hell that was. You’d never really been classified as normal anyway, but you had some impression that this resembled what it must feel like.

For a fleeting moment you think that maybe you should just sleep with Deku and pass this pregnancy off as his since you had yet to tell him-- or anyone-- about it.

But the better half of you instantly slaps this thought out through your ears.

Hello? Welcome to psycho bitch incorporated. Seriously. What the fuck was wrong with you?

Damn, you had been separated from your phone (and Deku) for exactly 23 seconds and you were already outta your cot-damn mind. You get one friend and suddenly you don’t know how to act.

You needed to somehow find “blond muscle man” and let him know what was up. Fuck, how were you supposed to do that when you didn’t even know his name?

The runway that night went pretty much how every single other runway went, except this time-- you opted not to attend any of the after parties. Instead, you went home and had Deku over, who delivered on his promise with sushi.

You could smell the sushi as soon as he walked through the door and your mouth instantly watered. He really was god sent.

The two of you settled quickly in your apartment, deciding to risk it all and eat on your living room couch to watch TV; however, you quickly noticed that the TV wasn’t the only thing that Izuku was watching. As soon as you turned to raise an eyebrow on him he feebly attempted to avert his gaze, but you caught him anyways, “What? You better stop sizing me up unless you wanna fight, Deku,” you sang as you popped another sushi roll into your mouth.

“W-what sizing you up?!”

You cackled at the sudden redness of his face, “I’m just joking. We both know I’d probably kick your ass!”

“You think so?” he actually sounded a bit nervous in his tone, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Oh, I know so,” you shrugged with a growing smirk, “Anyway. What are you staring so hard at me for?”

The air became very still around the two of you as he looked down to think. This was something that became pretty expectant of him these past few week-- a funny little habit.

“It’s just… we’ve been hanging out a lot the past few weeks and I never really noticed it—your… dieting,” he seemed to fall into that last word a bit as if it wasn’t exactly the word that he had wanted to use.

You knew that he meant to say ‘starving yourself’ but was too reserved for that level of bluntness. That was okay with you. You weren't particularly ready to open that can of worms, “Damn, and here I was thinkin’ I was looking pretty damn good,” you joked as the both of you began cleaning up your food mess.

“No. That’s not what I meant I—”

“Joking! I’m just joking with you, Big D,” you found yourself using this nickname for him whenever you wanted to see his face fall into it’s deepest shades of red. It worked every single time,

“I have just been at this for a long time—modeling for Ainu’s agency. Since I was 15 actually,” you shook your head a little at the surge of nostalgia that wanted to bubble up your back. You clutched a nearby pillow and hugged it to your chest, “She scouted me at a mall food court. She changed my entire life—for the better of course. She is practically my mom... I owe her a lot,” you found yourself giving into the nostalgia a bit-- a small, fond smile tugging at your lips. You looked up after a few beats of silence filled the air and was met with Deku’s admiring stare, “What? You nerd!” you exclaimed with a giggle, chucking the pillow at him.

“It’s nothing. I just like hearing about you. I feel like I have been doing a lot of talking about me since we have been hanging out.”

Yeah, he was a Cancer zodiac for sure. You pretty much knew his entire life’s story after only the first week of knowing him, “Are you kidding me?! Your life is straight out of a comic book, BB! I love hearing about it!” You began talking to him from out of the kitchen as you put your leftovers in the fridge,

“You went up against the League of Villains, the Vanguard Action Front and The Paranormal Liberation Front as a freshman?? You powered up from a quirkless crybaby! (Hey!) to an amazing, uprising, super considerate, overpowered crybaby on his way to number one! Your U.A. friends all seem like comic book characters, too. I love them already from what you tell me,” you closed the fridge, revealing his shocked expression.

“Really?” You nodded, igniting a spark in his eyes, “Well, I am actually having a little get together at my place for my friends if you wanna stop by.”

“Yeah sure. As long as my favorite character, Kaminari, is there,” Izuku seemed shocked and slightly offended by your choice in favorite, so you clarified, “He sounded really cool and all with his ‘chatty zappy’ thing going on,” you suddenly rolled your eyes as a bad taste emerged in your mouth, “Kacchan sounds like a little bitch baby though, no offense.”

“Y/N!”

“What?! Kacchan can ‘Kach’ these ‘hans’! Oh come on. Not even a pity laugh? A little one?” You apparently thought you were a lot funnier than Izuku did.

“I think the two of you might actually get along. You’re very similar now that I think about it,” he trailed off on his last part, seemingly talking to himself as he grabbed his chin.

You almost felt offended by his comparison, “Fuck that. Oppisites attract, Similars repel. Besides. Why would I wanna be friends with a little bitch baby that bullies and pisses on quirkless people?”

“Well, when you meet him next week you might like him…”

You clicked your tongue, “So now I am obligated to come, huh?” you smirked.

“N-no well that’s not what I meant but I would appreciate if you—”

You were only half paying attention to his freak out as the abrupt craving for orange juice infiltrated your mind and placed itself on the forefront of your thoughts, “Deku. I am joking!” you absentmindedly reminded him as you scoured your pantries for a wine glass. You had taken to drinking out of these instead of regular cups to at least maintain a semblance of your old self.

Izuku’s eyes widened at the sight of your collection of wines and alcohols in one of your cupboards. You smirked at him-- throwing him look that said ‘you ain’t seen nothin yet’ as you opened your freezer to reveal the insane hoard of alcohol you had stored.

His jaw practically dropped to the floor at the sight, “Holy woah, you have an entire liquor store in here!”

“Saving for a rainy day,” you almost immediately realized the error of your words as Izuku motions to one of the windows near you. The two of you sat in a beat of silence as the pitter-patter of rainfall splattered against the glass pane.

“It’s raining today,” he grinned excitedly.

“No... I cant,” the way that the words fell out sounded about as convincing as a disguise with groucho glasses. You could really go for a drink right about now.

He looked to you a bit sadly, if not disappointed, “Y/N if this is about your diet… I am just saying, I don’t think one day will hurt too much.”

“No, I really shouldn't.” Understatement of the century.

Izuku grabbed two glasses out of your cupboard with a soft smile gracing his features, “We’ll pour you just a little bit in case you change your mind—”

Maybe one glass wouldn't hurt... No. NO! God, you knew he meant well, but he is really fucking making this hard for you!! “I cant, I’m pregnant!!” you suddenly yelled. He immediately froze,

“Wha...?”

“I’m pregnant...”

“Oh... Uhhh congratulations,” the most unconvincing thing to have ever come out of his mouth probably, “Who…”

“I don’t know,” the look of utter horror on his face had you instantly backtracking your answer, “Well—let me rephrase that. I do know who it is, but I don’t know his name. It was a umm.. ‘Wam. Bam. Thank you ma’am’ type deal.” Your face began burning as hot blood rushed into your cheeks. You literally couldn't have phrased that worse if you tried. What the hell was wrong with you?

“You don’t look pregnant...” the horror on his face now registered into your mind as pure shock.

“I sure as hell would hope not. I am like a month-ish along—I think.”

“You haven’t been to the doctor?”

“Uhh no...” He was right, you didn't even look pregnant. There was no way in hell that you needed to go to the doctor yet. Right?

“W-wait! Y/N the night we met! You were drinking alcohol!”

“So? I am probably only like a few weeks pregnant and I drank like two glasses. I am sure it didn’t do anything…?”

“Are you really sure? How can you know!? You have to go see a doctor!” he looked terrified. It was as if he suddenly was the embodiment every stressed emotion that you had been shoving away from you these past few weeks and the sight scared you.

“You’re freaking me out, Deku.”

He instantly froze, “S-sorry,” he looked down to his shoes. Maybe you just might let him pour those drinks after all. He looked like he could use both of them right about now...

The next week dragged on for what felt like eons, as Izuku seemed to cautiously dance around the topic of your “preexisting condition.” It was quite obvious that every time the topic came up, a cloud of discomfort would come and sit on his shoulders; however, the man still made it a point to urge the fact that you needed to set up a doctor’s appointment.

Eventually, you caved in and scheduled for one at a local clinic, but they couldn't get you in for a few weeks anyway-- the joint was at maximum capacity, you guessed? Apparently, there were more pregnant bitches waddling around than you thought.

Still, Deku urged you to read up and research some things prior to your appointment so that you could ask the doctor any questions that might pop up. It seemed like he was almost way too into this-- taking notes in a composition notepad that he dubbed “Baby Notes Vol 1″ and even mentioning coming along with you to your clinic visit.

It made things extremely real.

Your little safe space with Deku had effectively been conquered and subjugated by the little parasite that took residence in your body. You shook your shoulders with a sigh as you neared Deku’s door for the party.

*KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK*

When the door opened you couldn't help the way that your eyebrows flew up in surprise at the sight of a woman opening the door. Uhh... did you go to the wrong house?

The brown haired girl in front of you looked just as surprised as you-- if not even more so.

Okay, you definitely went to the wrong house.

The sudden sound of Izuku’s voice coming deep from withing the apartment led you to breath easy. You deflated a little bit as you relaxed. You wouldn't have to make a mad dash in a lagged game of ‘ding dong ditch’ after all, “Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you.”

A series of emotions flashed across her expression at your greeting: shocked, nervous, then... disappointed? “Y/N! I’ve heard... so so much about you!” the smile that stretched across her lips seemed almost painful, “I’m Ochako Uraraka! I... love your hair!” she threw out the last part like a rabbit would throw steak to wolves.

“Thank’s...” you felt fucking awkward and she still hasn’t let you into the apartment, “I’ll make sure to thank the stylist and the bottle of dye she used.”

“That’s not your real hair color? It looks so healthy though!” she seemed heartbroken as she used a pitying tone and you could gauge that the pity was not for yourself.

“Nah. My agency pretty much determines what hairstyles I wear...” You made eye contact with Deku inside of the house as he made his way to the door... Thank god! you were saved from that terribly awkward interaction.

“Agency? Hero agency?”

“Modeling, actually. I’m not that badass,” you smirked before walking into the party.

Her figure deflated as if to say, ‘of fucking course’, “Oh. That’s cool!” You didn’t see much of Uraraka after that

Meanwhile, Bakugou was just a tick away from being angry enough to kill. His roommates had all three convinced him to go to this get together over Deku’s house and they weren't even going to be there on time!

He had honestly never been to a party with these losers without at least Shitty Hair being with him, so he wasn’t exactly sure how it would pan out and that really bothered him. He wasn’t exactly social at these events, but at least the three stooges kept him somewhat entertained (he would never admit this aloud).

What could those other losers possible do to entertain him?

“Whyyyyyyy?” he heard crying as he neared Deku’s home. His face scrunched in on itself even further than usual as he approached the whining noise. He scoffed at the inebriated mess in front of him,

“What the hell are you doing, round face?”

Uraraka, who was leaning against the edge of Izuku’s front patio looked up, causing Bakugou to deeply grimace at the germy snot that trailed down her red face, “Deku’s new girlfriend sure is cool. He deserves someone like her, right? She’s perfect!” Bakugou couldn't help the way that his face shriveled into itself in disgust.

It wasn't too late. He could still turn around and go the fuck home and no one would even know he was here. Well, save for bubble cheeks here, but she probably wouldn't even remember to be honest.

But as soon as Bakugou turned back around to make his escape Uraraka spoke up again, “She’s a model. They met at the Red Sneakers Event apparently,” Of course this piqued the man’s interest. There were only a few models branding the event and he just so happened to be searching for one of them. Uraraka continued with her drooling of words as Bakugou brushed past her and made his way into the house-- not bothering to knock,

“You know I am the one who gave him that idea in the first place? It’s kinda like. I set him up with his future wife!” she drunkenly cried to no one in particular as Bakugou stormed away.

He passed Iida on his way in, “Go get round face and shut her drunk ass up-- she’s outside,” he didn't bother on stopping to further explain before walking back to the commotion of the party.

As soon as he entered the packed room, his eyes landed on you. It was like the Red Sneakers Event all over again. You were simply glowing-- hard to miss-- especially with the crowd of his old classmates hovering around you like some damn flies on shit-- especially Deku. He was way too close to you-- the rat bastard.

“Oooh! You’ve been to Milan! That’s so cool, girl! So you must get to sight-see like a lot!”

The way that your shoulders leaned and swayed as you talked sent flutters into Bakugou’s heart. Fucking gross. He watched you speak very intently-- searching for the magic you had used to bewitch him, “Actually I was working a lot when I was there, so I really only got to see the sets and runways,” you made fleeting eye contact with him from across the room, furrowing your eye brows a bit at his stare before breaking the gaze.

“Do you get to keep the outfits after the shoots?!”

“Pfft. Hell no! This loser still hasn’t sent me a pair of his red shoes. What happened to helping the quirkless, huh, broccoli boi?” The most primal urge of jealousy that Bakugou had ever felt sprinted through his body as you leaned over to playfully tap that shitty Deku in the arm. The feeling was so intense that he hadn’t even registered what you had said fully.

“You’re quirkless?” Racoon Eyes inquired, snapping Bakugou out of his feral trance. His face fell a bit as he dutifully awaited your answer.

“Yeah. It’s whatever,” you shrugged.

“The competition must be so difficult!” Momo spoke up as she placed and apologetic hand to her chest. The gesture made you tense up a bit, but you reminded yourself that she probably didn't mean it in a belittling way as she continued, “I’ve been to a few magazine shoots myself and it is always girls with flashy quirks who end up in front and center!”

“Well, I compete well, I guess,” you knew that hero hero modeling and your fashion modelling were two completely different worlds. Designers saw you guys mostly as clothing racks and mannequins for their clothes, so usually they wanted their models to be as mundane as possible-- not to distract from their fabric art. So basically the perfect job for someone like you, “it’s no big deal. I get by like everybody else.”

“You just live your life like normal!”

“Awhhhh. Y/N. You’re an inspiration!”

Suddenly you felt extremely tired. You couldn't find the energy within yourself to filter out and soften your next response, “Glad I could inspire you just by breathing I guess.” you gave the girls a slight smile as you shrugged, but the undertone of your comment had not gone unnoticed-- especially by Bakugou who found himself stifling a proud smirk.

You once again made eye contact with him in this moment-- this time not daring to backtrack your gaze until he did-- a warning sign to back he hell off with that staring shit.

As the night progressed you found yourself becoming more and more tired. The debilitating sense of sudden fatigue actually felt like it had taken over even your bones at this point as the aching structures weighed heavily inside of you skin. You decided after about an hour that you were gonna make an early trip back home.

“What, why!?” Deku scanned your face nervously-- he thought you had been having fun!

“Just really damn tired suddenly.”

“Oh...” he trailed off, but suddenly realized the hidden context of your words. Baby Notes vol 1 page 4 section 3: ‘prenatal fatigue’, “Ohhhhh okay! Right! Well Let me call you a taxi or something.”

“Nahh, I’ll walk,” you waved him off as you made your journey toward small crowds of his friends-- waving them goodbye. Deku followed you in your path around his house,

“W-what? You can’t be serious! You shouldn’t do that!”

You turned around and threw your hand on his shoulder, causing him to instantly freeze up, “I’ll be fine,” you smirked throwing your hand up to his cheek to gently pat his face. Of course, he was left a shivering, blushing mess. It was a low blow, but, hey, it gave you a good opportunity to escape.

You felt a wave of relief as soon as you made it a few steps outside of the apartment. You released a heavy sigh as you continued walking away.

Finally. You internally planned the rest of the night in your head: orange juice, Netflix and sleeeep. You could finally just let yourself relax and--

“HEY!” you jumped out of your skin a little at the sudden loud shout. You whipped around to see that blond spikey-haired dude from Deku’s house attempting to close in on you.

You rolled your eyes as he neared. Hardly throwing him a glance as he approached you to walk a little behind you, “God. You’re the weirdo that was staring at me all night,” you groaned, hoping he would catch your drift.

“We need to talk!”

One of you eyebrows instantly quirked up as your lips curled into a look of disgust. You whipped back around towards him, “Look, I am actually tired as hell, so excuse me for my bluntness, but FUCK OFF!” You only caught a glimpse of his flabbergasted expression before you spun back around to storm down the stairs entering the subway.

“You really don’t know me?” he sounded pissed.

That’s when it hit you.

“Oh! it’s you!” you snapped your fingers at the sudden realization,

“You’re Kacchan!” the look of disgust that hardened on his face intensified by ten fold when he heard you use that nickname. You continued regardless as you neared the train platform, “The asshole bully who likes to pick on quirkless kids. Yeah, well, I don’t give a damn how great you think you are, buddy. You can really fuck off now!” you spun once more to ditch him; however this time around your ankle twisted from underneath you, causing your body to fall down toward the ledge of the platform where underneath the tracks resided.

Bakugou cried out something like ‘you idiot!’ before grabbing you by the waist and yanking you into him before you could completely fall down the ledge. Everything happened so quickly that you hadn't even realized that you were holding your breath until you gasped heavily into his chest.

With a shocked expression you trailed up his neck to his face until you were met with his vermilion eyes, “Shit…” suddenly a wave of familiarity crashed into you. you breathed deeply, “I-It’s you...”

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academi #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou imagine #bakugou x reader #bnha imagine #bnha imagines #mha imagine #mha imagines

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pokemon-ninjago-world · 4 years ago

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Headcanon/Pokéninjago version of Lloyd’s identity crisis during season 5 of Ninjago

Got ab 12 likes on the announcement post so here we are: This is an essay-sorta-thing about something I thought and wrote some six years ago. It’s been so long since I wrote this I feel cringy reading it, but it’s tenable in Pokéninjago lore. It’s kind of a mix between my headcanon for the show, and canon of my AU, which is why there is mentions of “evolving” and Pokémon types.

Things to take into account:

Idk if there should be content warnings, but depression mention at least. Otherwise, this is pretty much as intense as season 5 went, just a little more angsty I suppose.

I must say that my version of Lloyd and his identity crisis were inspired by a certain artist’s version of him and by a comic they made about the Child’s Play episode’s aftermath. I don’t dare name the artist, since they don’t wish to be linked with the Ninjago fandom anymore, but some of you might know who I’m referring to.

I do not know how psychology stuff actually works, all of this was made on grounds of a couple of high school psychology courses and a lot of imagination `:D

I wrote this originally in Finnish and let Word translate it, so this might be v clumsy at points.

Most of the text is under the cut!

~***~

When Lloyd was just a small cub, closer to three years, his mother had left him in his father's care. Misako knew the boy would become the Green Ninja and Garmadon would become the Dark Lord. That is why she went looking for any ancient knowledge to avoid the final confrontation. Although her heart was torn since she had to leave her loved ones, she knew that she couldn’t just sit on her hands, and that perhaps she was the only one that could prevent the decisive battle between good and evil. It was also her wish that the father and the son could spend as much time together as possible. Thus, Lloyd's earliest childhood memories are about his father, and his recollections of his mother are blurry, obscure, and fading away as he grows up, or mixing with other memories.

Dad meant everything to little Lloyd. Although they lived in the same monastery with Lloyd’s uncle as well, whom he also liked, his own father was still the greatest. Garmadon also loved his child deeply and wanted him to have a happy life. Although the poison in his veins was starting to get a hold of him and he was increasingly drawn to the Golden Weapons, his love for Lloyd and the desire to be with him in anticipation of Misako's return kept him away from them for much longer than if the boy had never existed.

When Lloyd "evolved," he lost some important years of his life, during which a youngster usually developes a picture of himself and his changing body. Lloyd's body changed in a single moment and even though his mind also changed to some degree, it was still mostly on the same level as before, since artificial aging did not bring him the years of experience that growing up normally would. From that moment on, he had to form himself a new image of himself. Frankly, he was facing a fierce identity crisis.

After the episode Child's Play, Lloyd adopted an identity whose foundation was flimsy and unstable. It consisted of a few simple pillars that supported his image of himself. Some emotions, thoughts, and memories that he could not, wasn’t able to or didn’t dare to deal with, secretly and slowly gnawed at those pillars like erosion. They grew into doubt that settled into the cracks like rockfoil.

That flimsy foundation for his self-image, consisted of these elements: I am the Green Ninja. I'm the strongest ninja of all. I’m the son of sensei Garmadon. I’m the grandson of The First Spinjitzu Master. I'm one of the Elemental Masters. I'm a student of Sensei Wu. I'm one of the five elemental ninjas. It's my destiny to protect the world from evil.

This made it easy for Morro to destabilize and crush Lloyd’s self-esteem. Morro proved himself to be stronger and more independent than Lloyd, and that he could win him over and over again, no matter how hard Lloyd tried to fight back. Lloyd felt weak and desperate. Two pillars of his self-image collapsed to the ground and the masked emotions and doubts that chipped away at the other columns began to grow and intensify: He was not the strongest ninja and was therefore unable to protect the world from this evil.

This also affected his view of him as the Green Ninja. Although logically he still was just that – the Golden Weapons and his powers had proven it – he could not help but think that maybe Morro really was supposed to be the Chosen One. His identity was cracking, which ate away at his strength and self-esteem. Being a Psychic Type, his greatest strength resided in his psyche, and whenever his mind was in an unstable and vulnerable state, he couldn’t do his best, even if he had used everything he had learned. Losing his father fairly recently had already struck a dangerous notch in his mental stability.

Even though Lloyd was still his father's son, it didn't feel the same when he was no longer with him. Finally, he was only driven forward by his relationship with his other loved ones. He had to do everything he could to stop Morro from harming his friends. By protecting them he was also protecting the last intact remnants of his Self.

Lloyd did everything he could to resist Morro's possession. From time to time a memory of his friends and the will to keep them safe increased his "self-control," weakening the ghost's hold on him. However, a long, grueling time in constant motion, without water and nourishment, poisoned by a cold, vindictive spirit, steadily filled his mind with anguish and despair. Doubts penetrated deep into the tears of his self-image, breaking everything old until he no longer knew who he was. Only with the last bits of his mental strength could he interfere with Morro's possession so that he failed to clear the other ninjas out of his way.

Then, when Morro broke away from Lloyd's body, the Espeon felt like nothing more than an empty, broken shell floating aimlessly in the dark, beachless sea. He was unable to live up to any of the expectations and goals that had been set for him. Now, he was used as a trade-in item in the market of the world’s destiny. He longer had the strength or power to save even his best friends. He was as helpless as a newborn pup and all he could do was to stand by and apologize when he was traded for Realm Crystal.

Somewhere from his past, he dug up one last spark of strength. Already as a child, he had been left alone with unfriendly people, who then had ignited that stubborn flame in him: the desire to fight the cruel, unjust and repressive world. His body still had more strength than his mind, and this momentary burst of grit made him kick the Crystal out of Morro's hand. This, however, caused him to end up in the freezing stream, all his energy used up. There was not much left but a primitive desire to survive and a little strength to keep his head afloat before the cold numbed his muscles.

Lloyd's mind was in shambles. Images, memories, shattered fragments of his adopted identity… they all churned in his tired, blurred consciousness. Unintentionally, he began to go through the feelings of uncertainty, fear and inadequacy that he had denied from himself for years. The present seemed more surreal than the memories. He relived moments that had had a revolutionary impact on his life: When the golden weapons pointed him out as a Green Ninja; when he grew up under the influence of Tomorrow's Tea; when he met his mother and became to know her; when he unleashed the Golden Dragon in the Temple of Light; how he fought the Overlord who was possessing his father; how he harnessed his True Potential; got his father back; lost Zane; reunited his friends again and felt great togetherness with the other Elemental Masters. When he lost his father again. And when Morro possessed him.

Lloyd was lost. If it wasn’t for his friends and their care, he would have sunk deep into depression (and, on the other hand, drowned or, at the very least, died of hypothermia). When Kai carried him out of the FSM’s tomb, it triggered a very clear memory of the day when the Master of Fire had fulfilled his potential and Lloyd had been identified as the Chosen One. That day, Kai had come to save him from an erupting volcano and carried him to safety. Now, Lloyd felt like he was that little scared cub again, who had for a moment thought he was going to burn to the ground in the boiling lava of the volcano. He remembered how Kai's closeness had brought a feeling of immediate security around him. Even though the mountain had raged and wanted to kill them both, Lloyd had known he didn’t have to be afraid. Kai was there. He'd protect Lloyd. There was no reason to fight the fear anymore, he didn't have to pretend like he was tough. He was carried by someone older and stronger, whom to rely on.

The feeling was so intense, the memory so vivid that Lloyd was overwhelmed by an inexplicable, immense grief. The sadness of being forced to give up a carefree childhood so early on, to take on an enormous responsibility and assume a role that seemed too demanding for such a small boy to perform. He had had to grow up way too soon. He started shaking from holding back the tears. He didn’t mind since he thought Kai was probably assuming that he was shivering from the cold. But when Kai said quietly and understandingly: "Shh... It's okay... Don't worry about it," the last wall of pride and fear fell, and Lloyd could no longer repress his weeping.

At this point, he slowly began to build a new identity on the ruins of the wrecked one. He understood that even though he was the Green Ninja, it didn’t make him greater or more important than the others. He had more magical power than anyone else, but he was still only a person just like them. He could hesitate, too, and fail. There was no way for him to do anything more than what he was capable of, mentally, physically, and skill-wise. That’s all there was to offer, and if it wasn't enough, there were others whom he could rely on. Others, who would catch him when he ran out of strength. He wasn't the last link to hold the whole structure together.

These ideas developed slowly in Lloyd's exhausted mind. Slowly, he got stitched back up from the fragments of his previous self-image. This time, however, his new identity was not something that was given to him from the outside, in which he would have had to fit himself, but it was a solid, authentic self-image created as a result of self-reflection. It was still obscure, uncertain and seeking its form, and its growth was overshadowed by fear. But the conversation with his father drove away that last fear. The fear that Morro was supposed to be the Green Ninja instead of Lloyd. His father assured that Lloyd’s qi had no influence on how he should live and act. He should live the way his heart told him to.

In the end, although Morro managed to beat Lloyd one last time, this time he did not break down. He was more intact now, he had more inner strength, and he knew for sure he wouldn't be abandoned. That the fate of the world wasn't really up to him. He may have been part of the story, but after all, he wasn't the protagonist, at least not the only one of them.

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some-cookie-crumbz · 4 years ago

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Insights

Insights Fandom: My Hero Academia Pairing: TodoMomo; established Huwumi and Natsuo x Mouse GIrlfriend Summary: TodoMomo Positivity Week Day 2 Prompt Fill: Roses. Shoto kinda seeks out romantic advice from Natsuo and Hawks and then everything gets complicated. Standard Disclaimer: If you read and enjoy this, please give it a like/ reblog so I know if I should write more.

Despite his concerns in the beginning, Todoroki Shoto had learned that relationships were a relatively easy thing to navigate. Well, given that there was respect and trust and communication, anyway. Which, he was proud to say he had with his girlfriend, Yaoyorozu Momo. The two of them were hitting the start of their third year at UA as well as their first year together as a couple. Shoto hadn’t thought much about it until he’d gone to a small training event with some of his other classmates.

“So,” Kaminari had drawled, a sly grin on his lips, “I gotta know. What’s on the agenda for you and Yaomomo’s anniversary? Because if you need some suggestions, I’ve got your back!”

He had blinked and tilted his head at him. “Ha?”

Sero snorted as he walked over as well. “Todoroki, it’s okay! You don’t gotta play coy with us! High roller like you must be planning to bust out the big guns for your first anniversary with your girlfriend!”

He merely continued to stare at them, unsure what they meant. “You shitty extras are giving IcyHot way too much credit. Dumbass probably doesn't have shit all figured out,” Bakugo scoffed.

“... Should I be making a big fuss over it being a year since we officially started dating?” Shoto had asked, genuinely befuddled. Which seemed to distress Sero and Kaminari, who had just as genuinely thought he was just teasing. The epiphany that he wasn’t just messing with them had led down a rather slippery slope of explaining the significance of anniversaries and such when in a romantic relationship. Specifically, how the one year mark was a huge landmark and warranted going above and beyond for your partner. And it wasn’t as if Shoto was completely ignorant to these things - both his older siblings were in successful relationships, after all - but… Well, the way they made it sound, their schedule should be much grander than it was. Outside of them agreeing to spend that day together, they hadn’t discussed much more nor had Momo implied she expected more than that.

But, then again, it seemed like an unspoken rule of courtship. So maybe she had simply assumed he already knew what to do?

Which was how he ended up awkwardly wandering into the living room of the estate, where Natsuo and Keigo were settled in front of the television and having a playful debate. “Nii-Chan,” he said when there was a lapse in the conversation.

The two older men both looked up at him. “Which one?” Keigo teased.

Natsuo rolled his eyes. “You aren’t his brother yet, birdbrain,”

“Ah, yes, because three months of time will make such a huge difference,”

“I meant Natsuo,” he clarified. Keigo’s feathers ruffled a bit at the remark while Natsuo flashed the Pro a smug grin. He then turned his attention back to Shoto and nodded his head, indicating he continue with what he had to say. “I need your advice on something… personal.”

He blinked before his brow knit in concern. “Hmm? Did you strain something during one of your workouts again? I keep telling you, Shoto; it’s fine if you wanna push your limits a little, but you can’t go breaking yourself like your buddy Midoriya,”

He shook his head. “No, it’s not about that. It’s about my upcoming anniversary with Momo,” Both men looked absolutely stunned by this, eyes wide and gawking. Shoto shifted his weight uncomfortably to keep himself from backing down, feeling incredibly judged. “I need help figuring out what to do for it.”

“Ah, Shoto, Shoto! You’ve come to the right man for help with this!” Keigo suddenly sang, a few of his feathers flying over and starting to push him towards the blonde. Once he was close enough, he was pulled down beside him, one of his arms draping over the younger’s shoulders as he leaned into him. “Let the King of Romance help you out! With my knowledge on your side, you’ll woo Yaomomo right off her feet!”

”Uh, excuse you,” Natsuo snapped, slamming one hand on the table to get their attention, “but he was coming to me for help. You know. Me. His big brother.”

Keigo’s arm slipped off Shoto’s shoulders so he could clap his hands together as if he was praying. He then gently tapped his lips with his hands, humming as he did. “Yeah, but… How to put this gently… You are bad at romance,” he said after a few pregnant pauses, enunciating the words of the final sentence with small chops of his hands.

“Wha-! What the Hell?”

“Look, I’m not saying I’ve heard some things but I’ve heard some things. Pro tip: Being together for three years doesn’t mean you don’t still have to try,” Keigo said, smirking as he held his hands up in a placating manner and glancing at Shoto.

Shoto blinked slowly before turning his attention to his flustered older brother again, curious what his response to that would be.

“I’d rather have room for improvement than being a brain dead peacock like you!” he snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at him. He then turned to Shoto again, pointing at Hawks again aggressively. “Shoto, did you know that our sister got accosted by a Villain when this idiot tried to propose?”

“I was off duty and out of my jurisdiction! It’s not my fault the Pro that runs that area had shit scheduling! And I got her away from the creep!” Keigo snapped back, slamming one of his hands down on the table as well and leaning closer to the other Todoroki.

“That creep was naked!” he laughed, crossing his arms over his chest and quirking an eyebrow expectantly.

Shoto’s head snapped between the two of them in complete bewilderment. He didn’t recall that being part of Fuyumi’s retelling of how Keigo had proposed. “... I… What?”

“It had to do with his Quirk,” Keigo waved a hand dismissively, as if that answered ever question Shoto could have to go along with that, but his gaze never wavered from Natsuo. One of his bushy eyebrows twitched in a way that seemed a bit menacing, as if he was about to deal a huge blow to the other. “Look, you don’t get to criticize me on shit when you’re too much of a coward to take the plunge!”

“What did you say, you mushy chicken nugget?”

“You heard me, protein powder!”

At this point, Shoto quietly crept away from the pair and made a beeline for the kitchen. After that, he had earned a glass of water or juice or something. Fuyumi was settled at the counter, preparing tea water with the electric kettle, while chatting amicably with Nezumi, Natsuo’s girlfriend. Nezumi herself was settled at the table, rounded mouse ears up to show she was comfortable and content. His sister perked up and smiled at him. “Hmm? Oh, hey, Shoto,” she mused. She seemed to read his body language well as her smile faltered. “What’s wrong? You seem upset.” She motioned him over towards the table while plucking out another tea mug for him.

“You two are dating a pair of useless idiots,” he groaned as he slumped at the table, letting his head thunk against the surface. After a moment he sighed and brought his arms up to rest his head on them instead. “Or maybe I’m the useless idiot.”

“Hey, you shouldn’t talk about yourself like that, Shoto!” Fuyumi admonished as she started pouring the water into the mugs.

Nezumi’s ears tipped down a bit as she meekly leaned over to give his head a comforting pat. “Would talking about it help, Shoto-Kun?”

He sighed again and closed his eyes. “Well, it’s just… Momo and I are going to be having our one year anniversary next Sunday and I worry that I don’t have anything spectacular figured out,” he confessed. He opened his eyes as Fuyumi carefully set a mug in front of him, watching the steam billow over the top. He pushed himself to sit upright and take the mug, letting the warmth bleed into his hands through the ceramic.“I want to make this something good for her. She’s important to me and… I just… I want to make sure she knows that. I want to make sure to show her that the right way.”

“Shoto, there is no right or wrong way to celebrate your anniversary. Every couple is different and what works for one may not work for another,” Fuyumi said, ever patient as she reached out and gently stroked his back. He could feel some of the tension slip from his body at her presence and reassurance. A glance at her revealed a small smile on her lips. “I mean, what Keigo and I do is radically different from Natsuo and Nezumi-Chan. And what you and Momo-Chan want to do to celebrate is most likely different from both of us, too.”

Nezumi nodded, lifting her mug to blow a bit at it. “Has Yaoyorozu-Chan made any mention of what she’d like to do with you on the anniversary?” she prompted before taking a small sip.

“She told me she just wants us to spend the day together,” he said. He took a sip of his own tea as his mind churned back to the conversation for the umptenth time, looking for any and all small details he could have missed. “We talked about maybe going to a park to walk around or something. But we do things like that for dates all the time. I want to make it special, somehow… Something more than just another date.”

Fuyumi tapped her chin before her eyes lit up and she grinned at him. “You could prepare a picnic for that day!”

Shoto stared at her for a long, quiet moment. “... Do you remember what happened last time I tried cooking?”

“We could help you,” Nezumi chimed in. Then, seeming to immediately worry she’d stepped out line, she slumped back. Her ears were tipped further down and she avoided eye contact. “O-Only if that’s okay, of course!”

He offered her a small smile, gently patting her shoulder so she would look at him. “I would appreciate it. Thank you, Nezumi-San,” She blinked then smiled and nodded. Her ears tipped back up completely and her stance became a bit more casual again. He blinked then frowned again as another thought occurred. “Ah, but what about a present?”

“Hmm… What do you think she’d like?” Fuyumi asked before taking a sip of her tea.

“She’s been gardening in her free time and seems to enjoy that,”

“Ah, a bouquet! You could get her that if she likes flowers!” Nezumi said eagerly. Her tail was visibly now, swaying a bit like he’d noticed it did when she was excited about something. “And I may have a suggestion for how you can make it a little more special!”

“Thank you, both of you,” Shoto said, finally allowing his whole body to relax at the prospect of having some real help to figure out what to do.

……………………………………………………………..

“Shoto-Kun, good afternoon! I hope you weren’t waiting too long,” Momo called the following week as she jogged over to him. They had agreed to meet up at the entrance to the park. In one arm he had the sizeable picnic basket Fuyumi had helped him put everything in while the picnic blanket was tossed over his opposing shoulder.

“Ah. Not at all,” he said, smiling when he was her. He then held the basket up, looking away sheepishly. “I, um… prepared a lunch for us. With Fuyumi-Nee and Nezumi-San’s help. It’s nothing extravagant but I hope that it is acceptable,”

Gray eyes lit up at that. “Oh! I brought a homemade dessert for us as well!” She indicated the large purse she had slung over her shoulder, moving it to hold it open so he could peer inside. There was a colorful tupperware container inside, along with her other personal effects, but he couldn’t make out what was inside it. “It’s just some cookies… I’m still figuring out how to make more complex treats but I felt this would be a simple but enjoyable.”

“I’m sure they’ll be delicious,” he said with a nod before starting to rummage through the basket. “One last thing. I got these for you.” He help out to her a bouquet of a dozen white roses, tied off with pastel pink paper and lacy purple ribbon.

“Roses? They’re lovely, Shoto-Kun. Thank you,” she giggled, reaching to take them. She help the bouquet closer to smell them. She perked up when the rose dead center, sticking out just the slightest bit more than the others, brushed her nose. She blinked in alarm before tentatively reaching out to touch it. “Ah, it seems that this one is fake.”

“Yes. That was intentional. You see, this bouquet comes with a promise,” he explained, heart racing a ,mile a minute as he remembered what Nezumi-San had told him to say.

“Oh?”

“Yes. That I will love you until the final rose wilts,”

Momo’s eyes widened, her fingers still tracing the fabric petals of the fake flower, as a pink hue crept up her cheeks and the tips of her ears. A small smile turned up on Shoto’s lips as she stared down at the bouquet affectionately.

Maybe he could get this whole romance thing down, after all.

#My Hero Academia #TodoMomo #Yaoyorozu Momo #Todoroki Shoto #TodoMomo Positivity Week #my fics #I just really wanted to include family shenanigans #And Shoto getting to bond with his siblings partners #And stupid sappy cliche internet post style shit from the early 2000s so #*shrugs*#If you don't like it #Fite me in a Denny's parking lot

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