#i wonder if this is really gonna get rid of the old tags or if I’m just vibin here talking about a series I’ve both played most of | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mika-writes-fanfics · 2 years ago

Text

Healing Touch

Dabi x Fem!Reader fan fiction

Synopsis: You encounter an injured Shigaraki and offer your healing quirk to his aid. Little did you know, healers were hard to come by in the underground and Shigaraki takes a liking to your skills. To further his cause, he kidnaps you and holds you captive under the watch of the LOV. You play the role of the LOV's little healer while you think of a way to escape. Unbeknownst to you, the pyromaniac with a cold heart begins to melt in your presence. Your compassion and wit draw him in, all the while he swears it's only curiosity he feels toward you. But when your touch heals his burns and your personality soothes his anguish, Dabi begins to wonder, what exactly is he feeling for you? And why the hell does he feel so torn up when you slip away?

Warnings/Tags: canon-typical violence, kidnapping, threats, mention of blood, Stockholm syndrome, eventual smut, kidnapping, female/afab reader, healing quirk

Author's Note: This is a reworking of my old fic, "Healing Hands". I've changed some stuff around, gotten rid of unnecessary paragraphs/sentences, and made the pacing faster. I felt like my last one dragged on for too long and I kept getting stuck. It also didn't help that I wrote most of it while high but I'm not gonna make that mistake again lol. I hope you enjoy the new version.

Abbreviation Guide: Y/N (your name), E/C (eye color), F/C (favorite color)

Word Count: 3K

Chapter One: Imprisoned

“Tomura, I do hope you intend to inform us what the emergency is,” Mr.Compress says to Tomura. There’s annoyance in his voice, thinly veiled by his usual aura of elegance and typical polite tone.

“Yeah, this better be important. What gives? Didya really need to have Kurogiri warp us here without notice?” Dabi agrees and further criticizes Tomura.

“Don’t question my judgment, this is extremely important,” Tomura defends. “We have a new member.” The league members’ faces seem deadpanned, bored and unbelieving. There was no one new in sight.

“You hallucinating or something? I don’t see a newbie,” Dabi contests with sarcasm. Toga giggles at Dabi’s statement of the obvious. “This better not be a chick with an invisible quirk.” A loud, exasperated sigh escapes Tomura’s lips and scratches at his neck in palpable irritation.

“You idiots, she’s not here yet. It’ll be any minute now so listen up. She’s not a willing addition, but her quirk will be useful to us. We’ll need to keep an eye on her to prevent her from escaping,” Tomura explains, still somewhat agitated. Toga squeals in excitement as some of the other members converse with one another in whispers.

“I’m so happy! Another girl is joining? This is gonna be so much fun, we could be like sisters!” Toga squeals and gushes with excitement. She blushes at the next thought of the new female addition. “Maybe she’ll even let me drink her blood!”

“Hold up, how’s she supposed to be useful to us if she doesn’t even follow our mission? Couldn’t she just use her quirk against us?” Dabi opposes.

“Impossible. She has a healing quirk, there’s no way she could overpower us. Besides, we have too much offense, every party needs a support class,” Tomura counters. “Healers are hard to come by and we need her cooperation,” Tomura adds. He glares at Toga and addresses his following words to her. “So no stabbing and bloodsucking, Toga. I’ll dust you before I warn you again.”

A warp portal appears in the room, suddenly. Everyone in the room tenses in alert and anticipation. Kurogiri partially steps through, with one of his arms still in the haze. The nomu continues to step through, pulling out a very terrified you from the mist. You attempt to thrash and bolt, but after a few well-placed portals, Kurogiri has you restrained by the wrists with his own hands.

Your eyes are wide and darting everywhere around you. Your panic is on display for a bunch of strange people, who you can only assume are villains. You had just started your (study abroad program/work transfer) in Japan. You were only in Japan for a couple of weeks, not even familiar with your route to (campus/work). How were you supposed to know what parts of the city were dangerous? How could you have known what the local villains looked like? Your ignorance and vulnerability are what led you to these circumstances. An ill-fated encounter with a wounded Tomura led your good intentions to be taken advantage of. You just wanted to help someone who could have been close to death. Your conscience would have haunted your thoughts if you ignored him, especially when you had the power to help. How could you have known he was a villain looking for a full-time healer? If only your quirk had blessed you with a stronger constitution and strength, for all it took to kidnap you was a hard blow to the head. A phone call to Kurogiri made it easy for you to disappear without a trace. You were stacked up against impossible odds. Luck was never on your side.

“Speak, tell them your name,” Tomura commands you.

Despite your precarious situation, you can’t help but let your emotions show. You furrow your brows and the corner of your mouth twitches. “I’m not your fucking dog, stop commanding me like one,” you spit with malice. Your e/c eyes narrow in contempt.

Tomura’s head whips around and he turns to face you. You suppress a shiver when his angry red eyes peer at you through Father’s hand. Time seems to slow as his steps close in on you. He roughly grabs your chin with four fingers, his pinky hovering close to your skin. Your face is pulled closer to his, making it easier to see his glare. “When I give you an order, I expect it to be followed. Do I need to remind you what my hands can do? Now tell them your name.”

Not wanting to piss him off further, you wager your best interest entails complying with his demand. You clench your jaw. You had to swallow your pride, the situation called for it. “Y/n. My name is y/n,” You respond, voice filled with bitterness. Tomura loosens his grip on your jaw, mumbling something about wanting to ‘fix your attitude’. He instructs Kurogiri to unhand you and the two of them give you some space.

“Y/n is pretty! We’re going to be best friends!” Toga exclaims and jumps off the barstool, approaching you. You give her a confused look at Toga’s giddy and friendly demeanor. Toga throws herself at you to embrace you in a hug, a gesture that borders on insanity given how the two of you barely know one another. Your apprehension and stiffness go unnoticed by the blonde.

“Um, thanks?” you reply with reluctance. Worryingly, the teen is much stronger than she appears.

“Since we’re friends and all, can I have some of your blood? I think people look even prettier when they’re covered in blood,” She gushes. Your expression can only be described as that of dawning horror. You’re beginning to realize how a girl like her ended up in such a crowd.

“Miss Toga, I understand you have an affinity for blood but please keep in mind what Tomura said,” a masked man wearing a trench coat remarks. The man lazily swirls marbles in a gloved hand. His demeanor and speech are quite eloquent and formal, standing out from the rest of the group. You note that perhaps he could be reasoned with. After all, he’s almost defending you against the teen’s apparent blood lust.

“Ugh, that’s so boring!” Toga whines. Tomura shoots her a warning glare from behind his mask, or rather his hand. She releases you from her embrace, sighing loudly. She spins on her heels and grabs your hand. Her tone sounds a bit dejected when she speaks again. “I guess since we can’t do that, I’ll introduce you to everybody.” She parades you around the room, introducing you to everyone. You already knew of Tomura and Kurogiri of course, so no introduction is needed there. The process is awkward at the very least, but the other members don’t seem to care much. There’s not exactly a social script for meeting your captors.

You learn the esteemed man in the white mask goes by Mr.Compress, or just Compress for short. It seemed like a strange name initially until Toga explained his quirk involves compressing and reducing anything he desires into small marbles. You shudder to think of what it would feel like to be trapped in such a way. The next introduction is for a man in a black and white body suit. His suit covers his face as well. The man’s name is Twice and he makes clones of people. His behavior is quite erratic, as he’ll often say one thing and immediately follow with a statement saying the opposite. You’ve been shuffled around the room and learned the names of almost everybody except for one other person. Toga pushes you in the direction of a man adorned with many piercings and staples.

“And this is Dabi! He’s got a fire quirk,” Toga introduces. You take in his features quickly, not wanting to stare too much but wanting to pair his face with a name. There’s a lot about him that sticks out to you. There are large swaths of deep scars on his arms, neck, and face. The seams between the scars and healthy skin are joined together with silver staples. Even the scars beneath his eyes are littered with staples. But apart from his scars and piercings, his gaze is piercing. He has eyes that seem to see right through you, scrutinizing you with his cobalt blue irises.

“Y/n, was it?” He asks. His voice catches you off guard, as this is the first time you’ve heard him speak. It’s deep and smoky. In different circumstances, it’d make you weak in the knees.

“Y-yeah,” you confirm. Your voice sounds meek when you speak. He merely hums in acknowledgment and doesn’t question you further. Though, with the way his eyes still follow you and the way his brows are slightly pinched together, you wager there’s something he still wants to ask you.

“Toga, Twice, you two show her to her room. It’s the last room off the hall,” Tomura instructs, shooing the two of them off with a gesture.

“You got it, boss!” Twice agrees, enthusiastically. His tone and voice rapidly shift to a more whiny and annoyed attitude, “No! Why me?”

Toga agrees without refusal, unlike Twice. Though, despite Twice’s uttered resistance, he complies with Tomura’s request regardless. You think that Twice’s mannerisms will take some getting used to. Maybe eventually his switches won’t be as jarring. As the two of them are about to lead you up the stairs, Kurogiri interjects.

“Miss y/n, we found your residence. We went ahead and gathered most of your belongings, excluding devices of course,” Kurogiri informs you.

You blink once, then twice. You can’t help but think, ‘Excuse me, but what the fuck?’

“Wow, you broke into my house, looked through my things, and took my stuff? Thanks, how considerate of you,” you sarcastically remark.

“It’s no problem, y/n,” Kurogiri accepts. You think he surely cannot be serious, but nothing in his mannerisms or tone of voice makes you believe so. This guy has seemingly no sense of your sarcasm. He’s almost robotic in that sense. Toga, once again, grabs your hand and leads you around. The three of you climb up the stairs and walk down the hallway without further incidents.

“This is yours!” Toga announces. She swings the door open and invites herself in. You begrudgingly cross the threshold as well with Twice coming in behind you.

Boxes of your things are stacked, rather neatly, in the corner of the room. They’re all categorized and labeled. Evidently, Kurogiri is efficient and meticulous with details. You walk over and open the box labeled clothes. Sure enough, you see your clothes, neatly folded in the cardboard. Kurogiri was not exaggerating when he said they gathered most of your things. The thought simultaneously scares and humiliates you. For them to figure out your address and take your thing raises three concerns. One, Tomura and Kurogiri could access information that you did not carry on your person. Two, now that your apartment is now empty, it could appear to the authorities that you ran away without notice. Lastly, and arguably a much smaller concern in comparison, is that you can’t remember if you had brought anything embarrassing with you from home.

“I’ll help you unpack!” Twice offers, before immediately countering himself. “No way, that’s too much work.”

Before he’s able to open a box, you interrupt quickly. You shout, “No!” Your outburst catches him off guard. He freezes in his tracks. You realize your reaction might seem odd, so you try to salvage the situation to the best of your ability. “Please, let me do it. Organizing stuff calms me down. Today’s been a lot for me.” Truthfully, it’s not exactly why you’d like Twice and Toga to leave you be, but the lie is plausible enough to be believable.

Toga taps a finger to her cheek, thinking over it. “Well I guess Tomura didn’t order us to move you in, so it should be fine. Unpacking stuff sounds really boring anyways,” She admits. You feel your shoulders relax a bit. The two of them walk to your door before Toga stops in the doorway. There’s a more threatening aura about her when she adds, “I’d hate to have to chase you down and get yelled at by Tomura, so don’t try anything. Twice and I will be down the hall, okay?” She looks at you, either gauging your reaction or waiting for you to confirm. You decide to just nod and mutter out an ‘okay’, to which she gives you her signature manic smile and resumes her usual happy-go-lucky demeanor.

The two of them finally leave your room. You listen to their footsteps travel down the hall before fading out. The breath you didn’t realize you were holding releases. You’re finally alone. You take a moment for yourself, sitting on the creaky bed frame and mattress. You look around the room, trying to take note of everything. You’ve been provided with a bed, desk, and dresser. The walls are plain. The room is windowless. When you stop to think of it, you can’t remember seeing any windows in the other parts of the building so far either. Not to mention, you noticed that this particular hallway was a dead end. These four walls already feel suffocating to you. It’s a perfect prison, and it’s filled with wardens.

As hopeless as your situation feels right now, you can’t afford to wallow in it. You decide to busy yourself instead of spiraling into despair. There are stacks of boxes filled with your things, after all. You’ll be kept busy and away from your thoughts for at least a while. Your situation sucks, but you’re thankful you have the comfort of having your things. Surrounding yourself with familiarity might help you.

You’re in the process of unpacking your third box when you hear the sound of heavy boots coming toward your room. The door is still ajar from when Toga and Twice left, so you’re able to see who it is. You’re a bit surprised to see Dabi, considering he didn’t say much to you initially. He leans leisurely against your door frame. Clearly, he’s in no hurry to do much. You’re not sure why, but his staring makes you squirm.

“You guys should invest in a surveillance system, isn’t hovering around me boring?” you say, breaking the silence. Your attitude must have been amusing to him, as he gives a light chuckle at you. Just like his voice, his laugh is a bit naturally husky.

“Not when you act so feisty, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone bite back at Tomura like that,” he snickers. “It’d be a shame for him to break that attitude.”

“Is there something you need from me? Besides entertainment?” You quip.

“Your quirk, how does it work?” He questions. He straightens his posture, no longer leaning on the doorway. His expression is more serious. If you squint, you think there’s a hint of curiosity in his gaze.

You think it’s best to just show him. You activate your quirk, focusing it on one part of your body. Your hands glow a f/c hue and begin feeling cold to the touch. “I create a layer of stem cells on my skin. It’s at the expense of my metabolic energy and makes me freeze, so overuse can be dangerous,” You explain. You shut off your quirk and glance at your hands. Your fingers feel a bit stiff.

“So what can you heal?”

“It’s easier to explain what I can’t heal.”

“Go on,” he says and motions. He seems to be intrigued.

“Anything that’s already been healed by the body, like scars or old injuries, won’t react to my quirk. Neither will infections or autoimmune diseases. I can’t regrow lost limbs either, unless the original arm is still mostly intact and… um… ‘fresh’. As a whole, I work best with more surface-level injuries than deep, internal ones.”

“You seem to know a lot about this. You some sort of doctor or nurse?”

“Tried to be at one point. I know people with healing quirks are expected to be surgeons, doctors, or nurses, but I don’t want to be defined by just my quirk.”

“Would your quirk work on me?”

“It should. I could try and see,” you offer. He nods, permitting you to touch him. You’re about to ask him where you should heal him, but he offers his hands, palms facing you. You stand up from your place on the floor and walk over to him. His appearance starts to make sense to you when you inspect his hands. Dabi’s wrists and parts of his palms are slightly burned. The scarring must be a mixture of burn scars and grafts. Does his own fire hurt him?

Not wanting to scrutinize him any further with your staring, you clasp your hands around one of his. His hands are much larger than yours. The familiar f/c glow emanates from your hands, along with your quirk’s characteristic cooling effect. Meanwhile, Dabi’s hands are incredibly warm to the touch, a stark juxtaposition from yours. Even his metal staples, which you’d expect to feel cold, are warmed to a comfortable temperature.

“You weren’t kidding, your hands are like ice,” he comments. Aside from the coldness, he feels the rawness from the burns slowly subsiding. The seam between his healthy and grafted skin even seems to close over.

“Small price for you to pay for good results,” you muse. You release his hands from your grasp and inspect your work. His skin appears to have healed over, taking on the same pale shade as his other healthy skin. He retracts his hand from you and sees for himself. There’s just a hint of relief and awe in his eyes as he flexes his fingers, noticing the difference.

“Heh, not bad,” he admits. “Sorry to disappoint, but your ice hands don’t bother me. In case you haven’t noticed, I run hot.” He glances at his hand one more time before nonchalantly shoving both hands in his pockets. He turns on his heels but doesn’t leave yet.

“See ya around,” he adds. He strolls away, leaving you to recollect yourself and unpack everything.

Masterlist

Link to AO3

#dabi reader #dabi x reader #mha dabi #bnha dabi #dabi #dabi fanfic #dabi x female reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #mha healing quirk #healer reader #healer y/n #tw: threats #tw: kidnapping #tw: blood #bnha reader insert #reader insert #long reads

105 notes · View notes

miscfandomwrites · 1 year ago

Text

Mama Chapter Nine

A/N: SO I WANT SOME THIRST and y’all are gonna get it. Just a small hint: the next few chapters will be more action and angst. As usual, if you want to be on the taglist please let me know. Also, sorry for the half-month hiatus, I’m not doing too well in school and mentally. Working on it.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Mom! Avenger! Reader

Warnings: Language

Words: 3.4k

Tagging: @tyler-t0t

“I love you Mom!” was Lillith’s only reply as she ran towards the playground, her red backpack bouncing along with her each of her steps.

I chuckled as she immediately dumped her backpack on the ground and went for the slides. I stood and watched her for a bit, before turning and getting in my jeep. Per Lillith’s request, she wanted to come to school in my old wrangler. That thing was older than me and that was definitely saying something.

I started it, feeling the entire frame shake as if my jeep was not in fact, a machine but a living breathing beast that had just woken from a ten-thousand year nap. Damn, this thing needed to be fixed. I hummed along to the radio as I drove back to the tower, enjoying the cool fall morning.

As much as I hated to admit it (I didn’t hate it) I would miss my kid. She was definitely the light of my life these past few years. It’s a wonder that she’s basically a little human and had thoughts and-Wait, I was starting to dissociate. I turned my focus back onto the road, and was delighted to find that I was less than a block away from the tower, instead of halfway to Poland.

I parked and got out, deciding to work in my workshop rather than face my empty floor. After making sure my phone and other miscellaneous belongings were with me, I headed to my main work area.

Dumping my coat and eventually my shirt on the island, I kept going through and loggin my ammunition. Someone had fucked my systems up, and I had been dutifully working on organizing things. The one thing that really fucking pissed me off was the fact that my experimental batches of my 45 ammo were mixed. It seemed like someone just took the trays and dumped them in a spare ammo can. Like seriously? Every batch had different power and some had different primers and oh-was this frustrating!

I decided that it was better to get rid of them than to deal with having ammunition that wouldn’t work out in the field. I’d rather not rest my or anyone else’s life on defective ammunition.

I kept muttering to myself about how stupid someone had to be to just mix ammunition without looking at labels as I retrived my old 45 from my gun cabiniet and grabbed some empty magazines.

I’d used the gun range in my workshop before, but I wanted to see what the tower had to offer, after all it was made of steel and glass. In fact, I was surprised I hadn’t seen the tower’s range yet.

I took out my personal 45 from its place at the small of my back and replaced it with my old one, and started loading the magazines. Bullet after bullet, magazine after magazine. I was roughly halfway through the box when I decided that two guns would be more fun, and I grabbed one of my thigh holsters and slid my personal 45 in.

As much as I’d like to not fuck with my concleled carry, I had nothing better to do the rest of the day. I was still figuring out some things as far as S.H.I.E.L.D. went to pay me, and was mostly trying to figure out if I’d need an actual job or not. Besides, I had the parts needed to make another 45 on hand.

I finished loading the magazines and counted them as I placed them back in the ammo can.

“Seventeen? Damn, I thought there’d be more…” I quietly said as I placed the last one in. I grabbed the can and headed to the elevator, where I asked FRIDAY to take me to the range.

Not even two minutes later I arrived on the sixtieth floor, which only furthered my anxiety. Glass windows surrounded us on all sides (Although they were mirrored so we could see out, but no one could see in) and there were the standard targets and stalls. Thankfully, most of the team was up here anyway. Steve was talking with Sam and Bucky around a table that held various revolvers, and Natasha was showing Wanda how to hold a handgun properly. I headed over to the boys and set my can down on the table before turning towards the rest of the room, trying to figure out how we could shoot in it.

“What’s in the ammo can?” Sam questioned me as he pulled it over to him. He opened the lid and nodded to me. “Looks like you’re gonna have some fun.”

I only grinned wolfishly in response. “So, the glass windows won’t break if we shoot them?” I asked Bucky. He nodded as he held one of the revolvers on the table, examining it carefully.

“Good to know.” I replied as I headed to the farthest range away from everyone. I grabbed a pair of headphones as I walked past Natasha and Wanda, and didn’t stop even as the both turned and stared. It’s been too long since I’ve been able to shoot. To feel the recoil. The cold metal of the handle… The smell of gunpowder. Man, I miss it all.

I set the can down on the shelf next to me in my stall, and sent my first target down the line. I pulled the 45 out of my back holster first, and grabbed a magazine. Muscle memory had me snapping it in place and sending the slide forward. The metallic click brought me back, and I centered my feet and took up my stance.

I focused down the sight of the gun to the center of the target and took several breaths, focusing my heartrate and my body. I curled my finger on the trigger and the muffled bam! had me already craving the recoil.

Breath in, pull. Breath out, pull. Breath, pull, breath, pull, breath, pull….

The same pattern had me going through magazine after magazine after magazine. I paid no mind to the burning hot shells as they occasionally hit my arm, nor did I feel anything besides the recoil and the steady calmness that accompanied it.

It was only until the seventh magazine in which I stopped and took a breath. I lowered the now-smoking gun and ejected the magazine, and pulled back the slide and set it on the side table. I stood there for a minute or two before deciding to send the target towards me.

The target was almost torn in half; I had shot at the midsection of the outline and there was just a huge hole, or rather several smaller ones that made the target almost completely obliterated.

“Jesus Christ, (Y/N)...” Came Steve’s voice from behind me.

I turned to see everyone just….staring. What, like this chaos wasn't what Natasha and Barnes inflicted upon the enemy every mission?

I shrugged and took the target down, balling it and tossing it into a nearby bin as I grabbed a second one.

“I think I should reinforce those windows some…” Stark muttered as I loaded a handgun and stacked more magazines next to me. I sent the new target down the line and I repeated the cycle of emptying the magazines. I swear, next time I’m just going to move everything by myself. Although this is fun.

Everyone eventually went back to what they were doing before, and before long it was only the boys and I on the floor. Eventually even they left for what I was assuming lunch. I finished emptying the magazines and headed back downstairs, gun oil and the scent of gunpowder sticking to me. Either way, I needed to keep myself moving. Pausing gives time for my anxiety to reappear, so it was better that I keep myself busy.

I set the handguns on the reloading bench as a reminder to clean them later, and restacked the ammo can where it belonged. I turned off the lights and headed up to my floor, skipping lunch. Once there, I changed into a pair of black workout pants with a baggy sleeveless shirt and my pair of running shoes.

Grabbing my water bottle and wireless earbuds, I took the elevator down to the gym floor. The gym floor, or, floors rather, were two floors merged together in the middle. All sorts of expensive exercise machines and weight bars, along with punching bags and mats scattered the space. The middle of the floor had ropes that hung from the ceiling of the second floor and had the largest mat. Thankfully we had a multi billionaire that paid for this place, and Stark went all out with it.

I started with stretching, then moved to the punching bags for a bit, then decided on pull ups. I haven’t really been able to take time out of my day to work out, rather the afternoons and mornings.

That was the great thing about being my own boss-My company was my own. I did a little bit of everything, or as I liked to refer to it: Freelance Hacker / Creator.

Yup. I checked servers for weak points and helped people create websites and platforms. Hell, I even took down a few...unsavory websites when I could. I had my own hours that I adapted as I needed. Especially with Lillith, it was easy for me to look after her when we were at home.

Shit, I need to clean up the space. I remembered. I stayed up late last night making a draft of a site for a client….which I had to make a meeting with tomorrow.

I drifted off into my thoughts as I ran through my cycle of sit ups, push ups, pull ups, and bench presses. Twenty per each set, five per each round. Damn, when was the last time I took a self care day? I let my brain sort out ideas and organize my thoughts for a few more minutes before focusing on what I was doing. I finished two rounds before heading over to the left wall and grabbing a pair of heavy chains.

Natasha and Wanda were sparring, with Natasha pushing Wanda back with offensive moves. Hand-to-hand combat wasn’t Maximoff’s strong point, but after insisting from both Strange and I that there might be a point where she would need to use physical combat despite her showing practically limitless magical abilities, she started.

First it was with both Strange and I, with my abilities making me a bit more resilient to her magic and Strange being….strange. Then her and Natasha started sparring when my long days turned into longer nights, and I’m fairly certain Barnes is taking some part in the cycle.

I finally watched Wanda get a solid hit on Nat’s torso in, and the assassin didn’t even flinch as she swept Wanda’s legs out from under her. The redhead was panting heavily, her hair tied back in a short ponytail with some hair framing her face. Wearing a black t-shirt and some black leggings, and black tennis shoes (Not going to lie, black looked really good on her). I tore my gaze away, albeit with some difficulty as I turned the mental list of tasks into a digital one on my phone.

After doing that and sipping some water, I used the hem of my shirt to wipe away the sweat on my forehead. Deciding to forego the shirt entirely I peeled it off and tossed it next to my water bottle. Draping the chains over my shoulders and grabbing the bar, I pulled myself up.

First few rounds of ten were easy, but the added weight of the chains (about twenty pounds, if the labels were correct for each) soon slowed me down. Which was fine, it had my arms and shoulders using more effort than usual. I looked up and was surprised to see both Natasha and Wanda looking at me. Both girls were by the water fountain, Wanda holding her water bottle and phone, and Natasha sipping hers with a towel over one shoulder. If it wasn’t the fact that they both were working out, I would swear that Natasha’s face was red. I could feel the sweat dripping down my chest and stomach, and was eternally grateful for the serum that kept me at a decent four pack.

I winked, and Natasha choked on her water. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she cleared her throat and headed towards me. Wanda stayed there, and started scrolling on her phone again.

She practically sauntered over, and my face slipped into a grin as she stopped right in front of me. Not bothering to pause, I kept going, making sure to keep my chin above the bar when I went up.

She stopped and crossed her arms, smirking at me. I returned her smirk, along with “Anything I can help you with, Ma’am?”

She grinned, before walking straight in front of me. She stopped, not even a half a foot away as I was about to pull myself up again. She gently ran her fingers along the chain of my dog tags, and tugged them out of my sports bra. I kept them in there so they wouldn’t make noise and so I had them close to my heart.

There were three tags in all on there, two of them being mine. She held the third up to read it and I stayed still, almost stiff as she smiled softly. It was my wife’s tag.

She let the tags fall back onto my chest and pulled them straight, and as she let go she gently, almost ghosted, her hand over my stomach. I stiffened more, and then dropped from the bar. She backed away a bit as I took the chains off and returned them to their spot on the wall, then as I wiped away the sweat on my face with my discarded shirt.

“I think….” She started as I opened my water bottle. Facing her, I gestured for her to continue. “That is something that is honorable. There’s no other word to say it, but it is. It’s out of love and respect, yes?” She questioned, pointing to the tags. I nodded, setting my water bottle down.

“Hey, do you want to come pick up Lillith from school with me?” I asked her, throwing my shirt over my shoulder and grabbing my water bottle. I checked the time on my phone and tucked it in my pocket.

“Sure. Can we get coffee?” She said as she walked besides me to the elevators. I selected both of our designated floors as we got in, and we started chatting about my little human.

Her floor was first, and with a wave and a “I’ll see you in the garage in fifteen minutes” she got off and headed towards wherever her room was.

I ran a hand through my hair, tugging it out of its ponytail as the elevator stopped at my floor. Getting off, I headed towards my room. Grabbing a pair of black jeans, a black shirt and some new undergarments, I quickly took a shower. Brushed my hair, teeth, and decided on a bit of eyeliner and mascara for the rest of the day. Pulled on some boots and grabbed my black leather jacket, making sure I had everything I needed for heading out. Finally, I grabbed my silver aviators and headed downstairs, before almost tripping over the shoes that littered the front entryway. Damn, my entire floor needed to be cleaned.

I met Natasha by my car, wearing a white, loose sleeveless tank top and leggings. Along with sneakers. Her hair was damp and down, and she had a black duffle bag over her shoulder.

“Where are we going?” I questioned as I popped the trunk to the challenger.

“I was hoping you could take me to my studio, if that’s alright.” she said as she shut the trunk lid with her duffle in it.

“Yeah, that’s no biggie. Coffee first?” I asked, starting the car.

“Please.” She sighed as she leaned her head against the seats. I smiled and pulled up to the open street.

We got our iced coffees and I made sure to get a frappuccino and cookie for Lillith, and I drove towards where Natasha said her studio was.

“I’ll just be about forty minutes. I need to get some stuff done and it might be a bit.” She said as she leaned in the car door frame, her duffle over one shoulder and a hand on the car door.

“That’s fine. I’m going to go pick up Lillith and then I’ll drive back here. Is that alright?” I asked, looking at the redhead. She smiled and nodded, shutting the car door.

I picked up Lillith from school, who excitedly told me that she made not one, but four new friends in her class. Her happy shriek had me laughing as I gave her the frappuccino and cookie. “I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!” She yelled as she grabbed said drink from my hand.

“Careful with it please.” I chucked as she quickly sipped on it. She hummed in response, staring out the window.

I shook my head and shifted the car into drive and headed downtown. Not even halfway there, and already….

“Mom I have to go pee” Lillith said, scrunching her nose and the bag the cookie came in.

“Okay. We’re almost there to pick up Natasha and then we can go inside and you can go pee.” I replied as I turned another corner.

I had no idea if her studio had a bathroom, but I had the idea that my toddler couldn’t hold it very long. That girl drank more water than I did, and that was saying something.

We pulled up and immediately she was getting unbuckled and wiggling her way out of the car. I got out and tucked my keys in my pocket, and helped her out of the car.

I gently kicked the door shut and led Lillith through the doors with a hand on her back, and followed the signs to where the bathroom is. Other than the fact that this place looked completely deserted, it was nice.

No outstanding decorations, and there was little furniture. An old cork board held flyers and photos of various ballet dancers and activities. I paused at that, remembering what Nat had said that one night.

I dance.

After having Lillith wash her hands (Which she complained about, but did anyway) we walked around until I found a half wall, half window point.

Lillith was short enough to where she couldn’t see in, but thankfully I wasn’t. It must’ve been a two way mirror, judging by the same pattern around the walls. A set of hip bars in the middle on a hardwood floor, and one of the most beautiful women lightly dancing to music I couldn’t hear.

My grip tightened on Lillith as I took in the sight before me. Natasha was wearing a black leotard with black tights, and the thing that caught my attention was the shoes. Pink, with the ribbon wrapping around her ankles. The way she moved reminded me of all of the ballet shows I went to in school when I was a kid. There was something majestic about how she moved, how delicate she seemed.

Of course, it was Natasha Romanoff. She may appear delicate, but she’s the complete opposite.

She turned on her heel and bowed down to the floor, hands barely brushing the wood. She went up, arms gracefully moving out in a way that kept my focus on her. That was, until Lillith yelled at her.

“HI NATASHA!” She yelled, jumping up and down and aggressively waving at said women. Natasha didn’t start, rather smiled at the small child and waved.

I facepalmed, dragging my hand down my face as I tried to fight down the flushing of my face.

#avengers x reader #miscfandomwrites #natasha romanoff #black widow x reader #mama #marvel x reader #marvel #natasha x reader

21 notes · View notes

parragone · 10 months ago

Text

wip wednesday saturday

one of those "I can't tag anyone else because I don;t know who to tag" situations, but thank you @r6shippingdelivery for tagging me in the first place <3

it's been a hot minute, so I'm gonna post a couple WIPs - the first being a muze wip from the early days of Rainbow, the second being a wip chapter from my Gentle Progress rewrite, Set in Motion, and the third being from a Fallen Hero wip because I am fucking rotted by this game-

ANYWAY, IT'S ALL UNDER THE CUT

first is from Early Days, which is the mute/fuze thing that just... bites at my heels

The party was loud. Too loud, really, but Mark had grown somewhat accustomed to the way the team liked to celebrate. With new arrivals from Japan to liven the party further, Mark had ducked out to get a breath of fresh air and hopefully escape the party altogether. He had never been one for parties in the first place, having never been quite old enough to be invited to any among his peers, and had little interest in learning to enjoy them. With a flimsy excuse about needing to finish his latest prototype improvement for MONI, he’d escaped a lecture from Mike – a well-intentioned lecture about needing to learn how to socialize, but a lecture nonetheless – and slipped out of the mess hall. A walk to clear his head and ground himself would do him some good, and then he’d go back to his ideal holiday activity; six hours spent coding something for fun rather than for a deadline. It’d be quiet until the operators came back from the holiday party disappointingly sober yet still all too happy to carry on their chatter, but by that time he hoped to be well and truly too tired to care. As he tugged his hood up and prepared to take the short walk around the obstacle course that he had come to well and truly despise, he heard the steady pace of another set of boots on another late-night jog. He raised his head to look down the track with furrowed brows, only to be met with the now-familiar figure of Kessikbayev. The smell of fresh cigarettes overpowered the smell of the rain and Mark was suddenly glad for the mask that covered his face and hid the way he cringed at the smell. “You weren’t at the party,” Mark commented as the older man slowed to a stop under the overhang. Shuhrat raised a brow as he shook his head to get rid of the excess water. “No.” The answer was simple and curt, and Mark felt a twinge of relief. “You have left it.” “Too loud.” It was as much an excuse as it was a reasonable explanation. “You done jogging?” “Yes.” The older man paused and gave a sidelong nod toward the barracks. He was done for the night, Mark assumed, but they were heading the same way. “Mind company?” “No.”

This second part is for Set in Motion, but it's a ways away

"I brought a peace offering." Jayce's boots were heavy on the old steel floors but just controlled enough that Viktor could tell the man was being conscious about his approach. He stared at the wall as the Piltovan approached and placed something glass on the dusty old bedside table, immediately followed by a retreat and the sound of his colleague circling around to the other side of the bed. The silence was so thick that he wondered if a bullet could kill it. "Can we talk?" The bed creaked as Jayce sat on the other side, the dip in the old mattress just enough for the Zaunite to notice. He refused to turn over and look at the man, something bitter built up in his heart. "Or maybe I can just… talk. I… I know I fucked up. I should have listened to you but instead, I paraded myself down an alley because I heard something. Even after you warned me that it's dangerous down here." Viktor listened as the Piltovan continued, aching hand slowly relaxing. "I was an idiot. And an asshole. And if your friend Vi wasn't there I probably would have ended up dead in a back alley instead of alive with a few new scars." Viktor looked at the pattern on the pillowcase. He wanted to be something mad, to be angry enough to yell at Jayce again, and found himself empty of it. The hollow cavity in his chest felt only slightly cracked, but enough to keep his attention on what his colleague was saying. "I don't know what I'm doing. Obviously. I nearly - I did hurt people down there. And I… I'm… I didn't realize how upset it would make you or how dangerous it was or… or anything like that and now I feel like I've crushed your good will for me into the ground and I hate that more because you… you. You. You're smart. You're leagues beyond anyone else I've ever met, like the Lady of Progress herself made you to force me to change. You've never once been hesitant to tell me when I'm wrong or a jackass or just not being the best I could be." The Zaunite shifted his bad leg to stretch it slightly. "Such as your misconception about Shuriman naming conventions. You insisted upon yourself so loudly." "Yeah, exactly," Jayce replied, his voice tinged with an emotion Viktor couldn't place. "You damn near threw the history book at me. My point is, I don't want to lose you because you're one of my only friends. I just… I don't know how to be a good friend. I've never had many. Most people think I'm an asshole on purpose but half the time I can't even tell if they're mad at me or happy with me and the other half I can't tell their facial expressions apart." The bed shifted again, the dip shifting into a full, familiar, comfortable weight behind him that made him ashamed and relieved at the same time. He wanted to turn around and look at his roommate, his friend, to encourage him and reward him with the end goal. Viktor knew better. "I don't know how to be a good friend. I'm barely a good person. I know this because most of why I haven't built a city-leveling bomb is the morals of those around me. But I want… I want to be good for you. And I don't know where to start because I feel like every time I start to do something I'm inevitably gonna fuck up. Maybe not as bad as this excursion, but I still think about how angry you were when you left the play. I never want to do that to you again and here I am, somehow doing something even worse. I think I'm asking for forgiveness, maybe? Or guidance. Just… I want to know how to..." "Fix it?" "You know me. There's nothing I can't fix, right?"

and the last bit is fallen hero, also very rusty, but also vaguely??? nsfw?? it's meant to be intimate but not necessarily sexual idk

The dreams had a strange mercy for once in that he could see nothing, but in exchange, his mind had conjured something far worse; a fantasy he could touch, smell, and hear. He didn’t need to see to feel Chen knelt in front of him, broad form settled between his thighs as a solid anchor among uncertainty. He needed a reason – and his mind provided, familiar hands pulling a blindfold tight over his eyes and the tickle of an all too familiar beard along the edge of one shoulder. Chen knew his strength. He kept one rough, weathered hand flat against Cole's lower spine to keep him still as he pressed quiet kisses against the warm, soft skin. Teeth grazed the edge of the ink that lined the smaller man's collarbone in fractal patterns too tightly interwoven to discern with the naked human eye; bruises bloomed over his neck and chest like flowers carefully embroidered into cloth too fragile to hold them. Held still as if he’d fall apart if Chen dared let go. Ortega had learned to be careful. His hands were softer than the Marshal’s, but just as grounding as they rested on his waist. Warm lips pressed to the nape of his neck, the scrape of a well-trimmed beard along the dip of his shoulder just as ticklish as it was when they kissed. He held the telepath as if he could save Cole from falling again, as if he could hold him close and somehow save him without knowing what he was saving him from. Like a hero should, if they could. It was too much to bear, not enough to fill the aching hole in his chest. Like filling an ocean one rainstorm at a time, bringing life from extinction. Washing away the barren empty with nothing more than a rag and their tears, they had no intention of letting him slip from their hands a second time. Monsters and all. Don’t touch me, his mind whispered in an instinctive flinch, I don’t know how not to bite.

#muze #r6s mute #r6s fuze #jayce giopara #viktor league of legends #wei chen #ricardo ortega #league of legends #rainbow six siege #fallen hero #fhr #fic wip #fanfic wip

7 notes · View notes

s-creations · 1 year ago

Text

The King Arrives - Chapter 1

(A few days after 'Plant Care' from 'Hues' Collection)

Everything felt off.

Everyone was on edge.

Something was wrong.

They don't have long to fix it.

Fandom: Super Mario & Related Fandoms Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Relationships: Luigi & Mario & Wario (Nintendo) Warnings/Additional Tags: Violence, there is cursing!, fighting ghosts, separation, illusions, here we go!, this is gonna get crazy!

“Luigi!”

Feet hitting heavy against the stone floor, Mario struggled to reach the large door at the end of the hallway. One he’d been running down for what felt like hours. Every step seemed to put his goal further away. Knowing if he could just grab that handle, the nightmare would be over. But the hallway just continued to grow. To taunt him.

Suddenly, the door that had been so far was now right in front of him. Mario unwillingly slammed his full body into it and opened them. Stumbling to the ground on the other side, feeling the air being knocked out from his lungs.

“What a wonderful entrance by the great hero.” A deep voice mockingly growled out.

Head snapped up, Mario finding Bowser towering over him. Eyes glowing a deep purple as the Koopa glared down at the human. Form seeming silhouette from the spotlight shining down from nowhere on the large Koopa.

Mario was up on his feet the next second. Ignoring how they suddenly felt like lead as he raised his fists, ready to fight. “Where is he, where’s Luigi! I know you have him!”

“Luigi…Luigi… Oh, you mean snively little Greenie? Your pathetic brother, how could I forget. Don’t you worry, I’ve been a wonderful host. See for yourself.”

Another spot light suddenly appeared. Showing a suspended cage, a clearly black and blue beaten Luigi lying limp inside. Something red slowly dripping from inside. Dull eyes landing on the sickened hero. “M…Mario?”

“Luigi! What did you do to him!”

Bowser laughed, “Your brother made for a wonderful punching bag. And now that you’re here, I can end his painful, pitiful existence.”

Mario felt the area shift. A lava pool now shown resting right below where Luigi’s prison hangs. Even though the hero could have sworn it wasn’t there before. But he wasn’t given time to be confused over this when the cage started to be lowered towards the molten liquid.

Mario tried to move forward, to get to his brother, when he felt numerous hands grab onto him. A dark sludge flooded over Mario’s lower half, slowly climbing its way up. The hero desperately tried to push it away, which resulted in right arm being trapped next. A bubble expanded from the sludge until it turned into a melting face of their old boss, Spike. Purple eyes glowing from behind the heavy shades with a fanged smile directed towards Mario.

“Looks like you’re finally getting rid of that worthless brothers of yours! I knew you’d get tired of having to carry him around.”

The face shifted. Molding and changing to female features, purple eyes digging into the trapped human, face seeming to droop. “How could you let my baby boy die like this? Do you not care? Are you that selfish? What a terrible son you are…”

The face shifted once more, this time to another male. One that held features shared with Mario. The furrowed brow more pronounced, deep hatred seeming to be pouring out. “You’re such a disappointment. You really couldn’t keep your promise, could you. You’re to blame, for all of this. I hope you're happy.”

The face dropped back into the growing sludge. Mario now trapped from his shoulders down, further hands forming to keep his facing forward. Unable to look away as the cage was lowered closer to the awaiting lava.

“This is your fault. Now you get to watch.”

“No, please,” Mario choked out. Unable to move anything, unable to break free. “Please, let me go! I can fix this, I can keep him safe!”

“You can’t fix anything. You’re too late… You’ll both meet your end soon enough.”

The cage finally made contact with the lava, which instantly erupts into flames. Luigi seemed uncaring as he was being burned alive. Hollowed eyes with a purple glow focused solemnly onto Mario. “Why can’t you keep me safe? Why can’t you do anything right?”

“Luigi!”

The name was ripped from his throat as Mario sat up. Eyes snapping open as he woke. Heart hammering, sheets held tightly in hand and being torn apart. Right arm burning furiously.

Mario had barely collected himself when his bedroom door was flung open. A frantic Luigi rushed in. No words were exchanged as Mario detangled himself from the bed and pulled his brother close. Luigi gave no noise of complaint as he was desperately clung to. Both eventually sink to the floor, leaning against the side of the bed.

“...This is getting out of hand.” Luigi whispered out. Feeling Mario nod in agreement. “You need to tell someone about this…besides me.”

“Who?” Mario choked out.

“I-I don’t know… H-How about we go see Peach today, yeah? Maybe she’ll know someone. Or even Wario. W-Wario might be able to help, I f-feel like he knows a lot of people… I think we just n-need to get out of the house today.”

“...Maybe…”

Luigi’s frown softened but didn’t push. The brother’s shifting to a slightly more comfortable position. Still clinging to each other.

“This is, what…the third time this week?” Mario laughed weakly.

Luigi nodded slowly. “Going on for about two… How’s your arm? Is it burning again?”

“Yeah.”

“...Do you want to try and go back to sleep?”

“No, absolutely not. How about we get some breakfast instead, yeah?”

Luigi didn’t argue as his brother pulled away, standing on shaky legs. Soon following to make sure Mario stayed somewhat upright. “H-How about I make breakfast?”

“I can do it,” Mario weakly waved his hand, “Don’t worry.”

“B-But-”

“Seriously Luigi. Let me take care of it. It’ll let me…focus on something.”

“...Okay.” Luigi took a seat at the small kitchen table. Pressing his hands together, trying not to worry. Tense and ready to jump up in case Mario showed to be faltering.

But the other brother pushed through and was soon handing over a plate to Luigi.

They were only a few bites in before Luigi asked, “Do you remember what the dreams are about? I haven’t heard you talk about them before.”

Mario wasn’t able to hide his twitch. But he swallowed his bite hard before flashing a weak smile, answering with, “No… No, not really…”

“...You keep calling my name.”

“I know, but I honestly don’t remember them. It’s just a…a really bad feeling.”

Luigi didn’t miss the way Mario reached up to rub his right arm. Where the bite scars were.

“Mario-”

“Visiting Peach sounds like a good idea,” Mario quickly interrupted, “We haven’t seen her in a while. We’ve been cooped up inside for too long. How about we clean up and go over?”

“Oh…y-yeah, sure.” Luigi didn’t push it, not wanting to stress Mario out further from all of this. So, he just smiled back before finishing up his food.

Going to the Mushroom Kingdom didn’t get the outcome the brothers had been hoping for. Not only did Mario seem to tense further upon leaving the Warp Pipe. Eyes shifting around nervously while keeping a tight grip on Luigi’s hand. But the Toads in the castle town were scuttling around fearfully. No one was talking. No one was looking up. Even with the sun shining down, it felt unnaturally cold.

The castle wasn’t much better. Not only just as quiet and cold, but there was also a heavy sense of dread hanging in the air. Guards were at full attention, eyes frantically darting around as if waiting for something to happen. Peach was sitting on her throne, hands clasped tightly in her lap, appearing to be staring at nothing. Toadsworth pacing before her, muttering something under his breath. Wario was there as well, arms crossed, glaring at the floor, his foot tapping continuously as he leaned against the throne.

“Um, good morning.” Luigi called out. His voice seemed to echo in the quiet chamber. The younger brother twitched nervously when all eyes landed on them.

Peach gave a small, relaxed sigh upon seeing the brothers. She rose from her throne and descended the stairs quickly. Mario was a little startled when she placed a kiss on his forehead before looking towards Luigi. “Good morning you two, I’m…so happy to see you. What can I help you with today?”

“W-We just dropped by to visit. Felt like we were due to just…hang out. Talk about random things. You know, fun stuff.” Luigi answered. Trying not to look over at Mario, who was still looking around fearfully, his grip on Luigi’s hand tight.

“Oh, that sounds like a wonderful idea. What did you have in mind-”

The sound of shattering glass from the nearby hallway caused the heavy tension in the air to finally snap.

The soldiers standing around immediately screamed and started to run around. Weapons carelessly tossed away as they panicked. Fear clearly overruling their logical thinking.

Toadsworth started screaming out, “Invader! Intruder! Protect the princess!” while clinging to Peach’s dress. Luigi surprised the old Toad could move fast enough to appear next to the princess in the blink of an eye, considering he was up by the throne the second before.

Peach and Wario both tensed where they stood, eyes wide, unable to move.

Mario went on full defense mode. Pulling Luigi behind him, turning frantically, looking for said possible attackers. Not prepared for the sudden movement, Luigi stumbled. Reaching out to grab onto his brother’s shoulder with his free hand. His other still clenched tightly in Mario’s hold.

“Mario-”

“Stay behind me, Luigi.”

“Mario stop-”

“I’ll keep you safe, just stay with me.” Mario yelped when his hand got a sudden shock. Turning to ask fearfully if Luigi’s powers were acting up. Only to feel nauseous with fear as he watched Luigi running away from him. “Luigi, stop!”

Luigi, careful to dodge around the still rushing around Toads, headed straight for one of the side halls where he’d heard the sound coming from. Opening the double doors and looking the area over, only to find a broken mirror lying on the floor. Glass littering the ground with a heavy frame, still intact, lying nearby.

Luigi had barely stepped into the hallway when Mario pulled him back.

“What are you doing? Why would you run off like that?” Mario demanded. Eyes wide, gripping onto Luigi’s arm.

“M-Mario, I’m fine. Something just fell off the wall.” Luigi attempted to comfort. Holding back a wince at how tight his brother was grabbing onto him.

Only for Toadsworth to come barreling through. Luigi only kept upright by Mario’s death grip.

“This is terrible! Horrendous!” the elder Toad wailed, “Oh, why would it be ma’am’s favorite heirloom! She’s showing her displeasure from beyond the grave! Please forgive this old, foolish Toad!”

The soldiers’ screams of panic were now directed towards trying to flee from an unseen attacker. Peach had slowly lowered herself to the floor, eyes still wide as she stared at the broken mirror. Wario was caught between the two groups, hands up with clear internal struggle. Go to the brothers or check on Peach.

Luigi was caught in a panic storm, confused as he attempted to figure out what was happening. Why was everyone acting like the world was ending? Why did it seem like they were all going through their biggest fears? What was going on?

Luigi tried to pull away, only to wince when Mario held him in place. “Mario, l-let go.”

“Why?” Mario asked frantically, “W-Why are you trying to leave me?”

“What- I’m not! I just want to-”

“A-Are you angry with me? W-What did I do wrong?”

“Mario, I’m not mad, but we need to-”

“I’m sorry! I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry!”

Luigi was practically being dragged down. Doing his best to keep Mario from just collapsing onto the ground. The older brother pressed his forehead into Luigi’s chest. Desperately chanting ‘I’m sorry!’ as he practically clung to Luigi. The younger brother’s nerves were already frayed as is. But this entire situation was making everything so much worse.

Finally reaching his wits end, Luigi bellowed out, “Enough!”

That called the hall to fall quiet. All eyes on Luigi. Everyone completely still. Tense.

Luigi gently pulled away from Mario’s hold, pushing down the older brother’s hands as Mario attempted to pull him back. The younger brother stepped further away before addressing everyone.

“Something’s clearly happening here. I know you can feel it, I certainly can. Panicking like this isn’t going to help. You’re either going into a frenzy or doing nothing if you…you let yourself fall that far.” Moving slowly so as to not cause everyone to panic again, Luigi inspected the damage. “The mirror just fell out of the frame. The glass is gone, but the frame looks fine. You can replace that part easily.”

Everyone blinked. Everyone relaxed. Everyone looked…confused.

“What…was that?” Peach whispered nervously. Wario merely shook his head in disbelief over what he just experienced.

Toadsworth and the soldiers blinked as if coming out of some daze. Mario’s eyes flitted around, clearly trying to make sense of the weird situation before looking back to Luigi. Who was propping the golden frame up against the wall.

“We just need to clean up t-the glass so no one cuts themselves,” Luigi continues calmly, “C-Can someone go get some brooms for us?”

A few Toads jumped into action. Luigi takes this time to check on Mario. “Bro…are you okay?”

Mario didn’t move. “...I don’t know… I just… I felt scared. Over a mirror falling off the wall. What’s wrong with me?”

“Hey, it’s o-okay. I t-think everyone’s a little on edge right now with…w-whatever is happening. W-Why don’t you just go stand w-with Wario and Peach? I’ll g-get this cleaned up.”

Luigi pulled away again before Mario could argue. Unable to move right away, watching as the Toads returned with the required items, the glass started to be picked up. Noticing a particularly large piece resting by his own foot. Mario deciding that, at the very least, he could help get rid of this-

The glass faced him, Mario given an unfamiliar reflection. He still saw himself. Pale and looking fearful. But behind him wasn’t shown properly.

It was completely dark. The castle seemed to have been completely swallowed by the shadows. Terrifyingly familiar eyes of shining yet soulless deep purple eyes were staring from the darkness.

Right at him.

“Found you.”

Mario immediately dropped the piece. Heart hammering as his hands shook. No one seemed to be aware of the hero’s current state of panic. Either cleaning or lost to their own worries.

Picking up the glass shared once more revealed nothing. The world reflecting back as it should.

Was he going insane?

Was everyone?

Wario barely looked up as Mario joined him and Peach. “Hey…”

“I need you to keep an eye on Luigi, okay?” Mario’s request was firm.

“What?”

“I just…I have a bad feeling about today. I need to know someone is going to be with him…please.”

Wario couldn’t argue back. He couldn’t give encouraging words, that it was all going to be fine. That there was nothing to worry about. Except that Wario had started that day feeling as if the world was going to fall apart. Waking to an empty house really didn’t help his state of mind. He’d gone to Peach in hopes to take his mind off everything. But the heavy feeling only seemed to increase the closer he got and now…

“Yeah…” Wario whispered out eventually, “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Thank you.”

The afternoon seemed to drag on. Everyone too far on edge to do anything. All weirdly just content to sit together and just…wait. Luigi felt like an outsider, watching with silent worry as everyone seemed to fall further and further into this unseen panic. Unsure of what he’d be able to do to help everyone out of the situation. Content to meet Mario’s silently requested for Luigi to stay as close as possible. The older brother gripped onto Luigi’s arm with both of his hands.

It was as evening was drawing closer, the sun seen dropping over the horizon, that everyone was broken from their stupor. First by a loud engine that cut off right outside of the castle front doors. Heads lifting up at the sound of a dog barking and someone calling out,

“No time to chat, youngsters! Don’t get up. I’m assuming the throne room is this way. Very busy, mustn't dawdle!”

The doors were thrown open, an elderly man wearing a lab and carrying a rather large metal box came rushing in. Swirled glasses slightly askew with a collected wisp of gray hair atop his head bobbing side to side as he moved. Either unaware or uncaring of the worried eyes that followed him.

Arriving at the foot of the throne, he dropped the case and offered a low bow. Panting out, “Sorry for intruding. But there is a situation currently occurring that requires my attention.”

There was a beat of silence before Peach asked, “Who are you?”

“Ah, pardon me, that is very rude, isn’t it? I am Professor Elvin Gadd, experts on ghosts and everything paranormal! I also go by E. Gadd or professor, if either of those names suit your fancy. I certainly know I’m a fan.”

Luigi sat up further, eyes wide.

“I see,” said Peach, “and what can I help you with?”

“Well, it’s truly what I’m here to help you with. My reason for arriving is related to the current state you find your kingdom in. I can tell you’re all in a bit of a ‘downer mood’, if you will. Honestly the feeling is pretty typical for this kind of situation. The strangeness relates more to the overall size of the situation. I would have arrived earlier, but I’d only just felt prepared enough to tackle all of this. Quite a stressful few weeks I’ve had.”

“I’m sorry. What situation?”

“My dear, your castle is currently overrun with guests of the paranormal variety.”

“Pardon?”

“Ghosts, my dear, your castle has a large number of ghosts here.”

“I knew it!” Toadsworth suddenly called out, “I knew the late King and Queen had returned to haunt me! Oh woe, oh all the woes, oh all the woes that-”

“Criminy! Would you please put a cork in it!” E. Gadd huffed, “Yelling as such will help in no way. But if it placates you to know, no past living spirits currently haunt these halls. Just a dangerous amount of Ecto-Ghosts…oh, and Boos. Nasty number of Boos. Quite alarming, actually, if you stop to think about it. Or, if I stop to think about it. I’m the only one who’s truly aware of that, aren’t I?”

With how easy the professor was saying all of this, it seemed that the residence should be relaxing over what they were hearing. Which, in fact, did not occur. Mario and Luigi’s grip on each other increased. Wario reaches down to grab onto Mario’s shoulder, Peach placing her own hand on the other.

“Boos…are here?” Mario voiced weakly.

“Very much so! A disturbing amount. It’s common to see Boos in small groups. But the amount currently resigned here…well, it’s nothing short of an army. Quite fascinating if I’m being honest. Couple that with the large number of Ecto-Ghosts seemingly working together with the Boos and we’ve reached a phenomenon that I didn’t think was possible. Very fascinating.”

“I would strongly like to disagree with that,” Wario growled, “Are you telling me that we’re all feeling like shit because of ghosts? That we have a literal army of unseen enemies right on top of us. And you find all of that interesting?”

“Pardon me, youngster, but I said ‘fascinating’, not ‘interesting’. If you’re going to be angry with me, at least have it be for the right reason.”

“You’re enjoying this!”

“Oh absolutely not,” E. Gadd frowned, “I can be eager, curious even, but I can also recognize the danger we’re currently in. I’m not psychotic, I’m here to help!”

“Going over the data points I’ve been able to collect, even with how few those points are, I was able to follow this group to this kingdom. Namely, your castle. This is dangerous for a number of reasons. But first, I need to ask if anyone could know of a possible reason for them arriving here?”

“A-Aren’t Boos t-territorial?”

Gadd looked up hearing a small voice. Swirled glasses directed to Luigi. “Yes, they are, very much so. But I doubt Boos would suddenly want to try and rule a kingdom.”

“W-Well, what if it’s not a place that they want?” Luigi voiced, “What…W-What if it was…”

“A person.” Mario meekly finished. Luigi pulled him closer.

“A person?” E. Gadd parroted, pondering for a bit. “I suppose…it could be possible. I’ve not heard of something like that happening. But all of this is new. Forgive me, but I can’t fully speak for the truthfulness of that statement. However, the point I’m trying to make here is that I have the tools that can help with this situation!”

“Now, where did I put that blasted thing? I could have sworn I put it in my- Oh! You found it, Polterpup, good doggie!”

Luigi was a little confused as to why the professor was looking at him once more. Until a chill to the right called his attention to another’s presence. Barely holding back a yelp finding a translucent ghost dog sitting next to him. Wide, clear eyes fixated on Luigi with a small remote resting in their mouth.

A sharp whistle called Luigi’s and the ghost pup’s attention back towards E. Gadd. “Come along now pup. We need to get to work. You can make friends later.”

The ghost dog wagged their tail as they turned away, trotting over to the professor. Dropping the remote into the professor’s outstretched hand. “Thank you. Now, let’s see…”

A button pushed and the case resting at E. Gadd’s feet suddenly sprang to life. The lid opened, the cas expanding out further until it became a long table that bolted itself into the ground. Numerous tools and a large computer appeared on top the next second. No one was able to tell where those items had suddenly come from.

“What…is all of this?” Peach asked.

“It’ll take too long to explain everything. But just know that all of them are needed to help us out of this situation. Pretty standard tools.”

“This…is standard?” Wario asked, brow raised.

“Of course!”

Peach took over again. “What is this going to help with?”

“Many things. But the two main points! Locate and ensnare/contain. This won’t be over until we can find the true source of all this imbalance. Now-”

A heavy round of three hard knocks sounded. All turning to the set of double doors that lead to the side hallway, from where the sound came from. There was a heavy pause…

Until a Toad cheerfully said, “I’ll get it!”

The rest were too slow to either warn them or to grab said Toad before they opened it up.

The doors didn’t reveal the familiar decorated hallway. But a wall of swirling purple and black lights was instead being presented before them. There was a brief collective thought of ‘Huh, that’s not right.’ before the entire hall started to tilt. Those closest and unable to grab onto anything disappeared into the light first. Lost to the void with their screams echoing from within.

Those remaining were frantically clinging to what they’d been able to grab, trying not to fall in as well. Calling out what they were supposed to do when the room started to shake. As if the room was intentionally trying to get everyone to fall in.

Luigi’s eyes wide in panic at the bright light seeming to be directly below his feet. Heart hammering as the screams pounded against his ears. The craziness of everything seemed to fall away hearing a pained cry call out. The younger brother looked up to see that Mario had lost the grip on his right hand and was slowly slipping from his left.

“Mario!”

“I can’t-”

There was a fearful gasp as Mario’s grip finally failed. Luigi’s attempt to grab him was met with empty air, his brother falling further away.

“Luigi, don’t!” Wario called out, already knowing what the younger brother was planning.

He didn’t listen.

He released his hold. Dropping quickly to grab onto Mario’s hands, both falling into the light.

Whatever was on the other side was not what either brother expected. It seemed as if the entire castle had been broken into pieces. Each room or hallway sections were torn away from everything else. All floating in a void of black and purple clouds with bright flashes of purple lighting expelling once in a while.

“What’s happening!” Luigi called out as they free falled.

“I don’t know!” was Mario’s reply, “Oh geez, hold on tight Luigi!”

Their stomach churned as they fell through another set of double doors and into a long hallway that had been tilted on its side. Now flying passed the walls filled with paintings of the royal's past. Except the paintings didn’t remain still. As soon as the brothers entered, the oil recreations reached out from their decorated frames. Wailing loudly from stretched mouths, skin melting and bubbling, eyes glowing purple as they reached out towards the falling brothers.

Both screaming in absolute fear as they fell, pressing as close to each other as possible to avoid the dripping hands that swiped at them..

They were out of the hallway soon, falling back into the swirling void with the castle still in pieces. Soon surrounded by a number of doors. Both cast confused glances at each other before the doors were suddenly slammed open. Translucent creatures starting to pour out from them. Different colors, different sizes, all with soulless white eyes, shrieking and cackling as they swirled around the brothers.

“What are those things!” Mario called out.

“E-Ecto-Ghosts! T-There are so many!” Luigi fearfully answered.

Before they could fully take in what they were seeing, the brothers were dropped down into another hallway. This one without another set of doors at the opposite end. Meaning they were soon slamming, rather hard, into the back brick wall. Not able to orient themselves before the hall shifts to be upright. The brothers let out another round of painful groans as they laid on the plush carpet.

“M…Mario?” Luigi called up weakly, unable to move, even knowing what danger they were in. He didn’t get a reply.

Luigi twitched as something moved from under his hand. Looking up to see Mario being pulled away from him. Snapped to attention, Luigi quickly reached out to grab onto his brother’s wrist.

Mario still kept moving.

Luigi grabbed onto the other wrist, getting onto his feet quickly to dig them into place. Panic grew as he watched as Mario was easily lifted off the ground.

“Mario!”

Luigi felt shock hit him once more as numerous Ecto-Ghost seemed to materialize. All holding onto Mario, glaring at the fearful younger brother.

That didn’t deter Luigi, who started to pull back harder, “L-Let him go! Mario, wake up!”

He let out a yelp as he was suddenly jerked forward. Scrambling to get his feet into an immovable stance. The situation became further dire, feeling chilled hands grab onto his shoulders and upper arms. More Ecto-Ghosts now pulling at Luigi to break the contact.

“S-Stop!” Luigi practically begged, “P-Please stop! W-What do you want with him!”

He received no reply. Instead harsh laughter followed.

“...W-Weegie…”

Luigi felt his heart leap in joy. Even if Mario’s eyes were clearly unfocused and dull, he was awake. “Mario! H-Hold on, I’ll get you out, just-”

“Weegie, y-you need to let g-go…”

“What? No! No, I’m not going to-”

“Let go… Let go and find Wario…”

“Mario, please-”

“I need…I need to know you’re safe…” Mario offered the best smile he could give, “Please…I’ll be okay…”

“I…I can’t…” Luigi felt his grip slip.

“I’ll be okay… But you need to let go…”

Before Luigi could protest further, the ghosts took advantage of the human being distracted and gave one final pull. Breaking the brother’s connection. Luigi was only able to watch as Mario was phased through the wall.

“Mario!”

His head was slammed into the floor.

Luigi groaned weakly. Something slimy and cold traveling across his cheek. The chill woke him up quickly.

“Ugh, wha’? What happened?”

He was still in the hallway. The area dark and eerie, the silence heavy after the ruckus he’d just gone through. Luigi hears cold laughter sounding nearby, as if just from the other rooms. His attention was pulled to Polterpup when they let out a small bark. The ghost dog panting happily.

“P-Puppy? What are you doing here?”

Polterpup merely barked again.

“What is- Mario!” Luigi suddenly snapped back to reality. Stumbling to his feet and rushing to the same wall he’d seen Mario disappear through. Only to find a solid, unmoving wall.

Feeling desperate, Luigi turned back to Polterpup. “C-Can you find him? Do you know where Mario is?”

Another bark, Polterpup turning to the doors Luigi has fallen through before. Sitting before them and looking back at the human expectedly.

“Do you know? …Do you want me to follow you?”

Polterpup whined softly. Front paws patted the floor as he waited. Unsure of what else he could do, Luigi followed.

He was surprised when the doors opened to a wide bedroom. Well decorated but not well lived in.

“A guest room?” Luigi voiced aloud, “What? What is this doing here?”

He continued to follow the spectral pup. The door that supposedly led to the guest bathroom revealed yet another hallway. One lined with numerous doors, more than Luigi thought would be possible. Polterpup seemed to know exactly where to go. Walking over to one of the many doors, which lead to one of the kitchens the castle held.

“Did this all…become a maze?” Luigi asked nervously. After passing another guest room, the library, and dinning hall, Luigi was relieved to stumble back into the Great Hall. It seemed to be the only place to feel ‘normal’. Which Luigi slowly realized meant safety.

“Ah, Polterpup, there you are!” E. Gadd called out, “I was wondering where you ran off to.”

“Luigi!” The younger brother couldn’t help but jump at his name being shouted. Peach hugged him with Wario a few steps behind.

“P-Princess?”

Peach pulled away, checking Luigi over. “Are you okay? What happened? Where’s Mario?”

“I…I lost him,” Luigi weakly admitted, “I-I had him… Then some Ecto-Ghosts appeared and… I lost Mario.”

Wario reached out to grip Luigi’s shoulder gently, “We’ll get him back.”

“Easier said than done youngster,” said the professor, “There’s a lot broken and not much time to fix all of it.”

“What do you mean?” Peach asked.

“This room is the only stable room, thanks to my equipment. The rest of your castle, however, is severely corrupted. It appears we’re caught in a very heavy and disruptive illusion.”

Luigi nodded. “I-It’s a maze out there. I only found my way back because of Polterpup.”

“Who or what even is behind this has turned the palace into a trap…a cage.”

“Okay, so, how do we get out?” Wario asked.

“We need to find the source of all this chaos, that needs to be our focus. It’s very powerful. Not only to cause this damage but to also maintain it. Which leads to our next problem. This is causing immense stress to our reality. If this is not fixed, we’re going to be torn apart.”

That causes an uneasy chill to fall over the room.

“...How long do we have?” Luigi asked.

“Until 6 am tomorrow morning.” E. Gadd answered.

“12 hours.” Peach breathed out.

“Shit.” Wario simply put.

Time: 6:03pm Stability Lost: 12%

#mario #luigi #wario #princess peach #professor e. gadd #s-creations #fanfiction #yellow purple red green

10 notes · View notes

kira-the-whump-enthusiast · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 2,911 times in 2022

That's 2,911 more posts than 2021!

149 posts created (5%)

2,762 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@whumpsday

@whumpwillow

@whump-queen

@oddsconvert

@emcscared-whumps

I tagged 2,217 of my posts in 2022

Only 24% of my posts had no tags

#whump - 1,372 posts

#whump prompts - 576 posts

#whump writing - 343 posts

#whump art - 180 posts

#villain whump - 156 posts

#kira talks - 148 posts

#whumper turned whumpee - 98 posts

#saving for later - 97 posts

#vampire whump - 92 posts

#oc isaac - 70 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#and telling someone that they should be locked up in a mental hospital is horribly insenstive to everyone that is in one or has been in one

My Top Posts in 2022:

me, who doesn’t know shit about committing crimes: yeah, I’m gonna write a story about a bunch of people who commit crimes and get away with it all the time

80 notes - Posted November 6, 2022

Whumper who plans where to inflict every scar and bruise on Whumpee’s body. They sprinkle extra blood on Whumpee’s wounds. They restrain Whumpee in an awkward position that puts all their injuries on display.

And they tell Whumpee, “You, my dear, are my most beautiful creation.”

88 notes - Posted April 12, 2022

I’ve been sorta obsessed with the phrase “You’re not going to die” in a whump context lately. Like, it’s so versatile. So good in so many situations.

Maybe a caretaker is saying it to comfort a scared whumpee. Maybe it’s whumpee’s last words to caretaker before giving themself up to whumper for caretaker’s sake. Maybe it’s said by whumpee to whumper once the tables have turned, to inform whumper that whumpee’s revenge is going to be very long and very painful. And there’s probably so many other contexts that I haven’t even thought about too. I’d go crazy for all of them.

208 notes - Posted April 8, 2022

There’s something so appealing to me about captivity whump, to the point that I pretty much put it in all my whump stories. And I think it’s cuz there’s something so soul-crushing about the monotony of captivity and repeated pain. And the fact that the whumpee often can’t escape it easily at all. Maybe they never will. (At least, that’s an possibility in the character’s head.)

It’s a horrible cycle that they’re trapped in, and no matter how much they want to escape it, no matter how much they actually try, every day they wake up in the same place and the same situation.

And god it’s just chef’s kiss. Definitely one of my favorite ways to break a fictional character: hurt them over and over again and chip away at all the hope until there’s nothing left, except the parts you want <2

220 notes - Posted October 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

As much as I love whumpees with permanent scars,,, I also really love the idea of a whumpee that doesn’t have any scars.

- Like a whumpee who didn’t get physically hurt, or a whumpee who has fast healing that got rid of any scars.

- Does anyone believe what they went through when they don’t have the physical scars to show for it? Maybe even caretaker believes that they’re lying or exaggerating.

- Can whumpee even convince themself that they went through it? Do they wonder whether it was all just a vivid dream or their imagination? But it felt so real… and they have the trauma to prove it.

- Does whumpee try to pretend nothing ever happened? Go back to their old life or start a new one and try to return to normal life? Their friends and family might notice something’s changed in whumpee, but they won’t talk about what happened.

Well. I might have to write something like this.

374 notes - Posted July 27, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #I hate like all my top posts lol #mostly cuz they keep getting notes. and eventually I get tired of seeing them in my notifs

7 notes · View notes

bielobog-kun · 2 months ago

Text

i know its déclassé to respond in a reblog but this was too long to put in the tags. the short answer is he wouldn't be a villain.

long answer is. my azem loved the world but he also understood that life is change. and did not expect anything from it. so he would have loved the new world too and would have seen it as his responsibility to guide the new life therein instead of sabotaging its development. and the new life would have soothed his grief at the loss of the old in the fullness of time.

unlike e-s and hyth he doesn't have soulsight and doesn't really make distinctions between things with a soul vs without. everything--thinking and unthinking--makes up the ecosystems, the beauty and the miracle of life on etheirys, in concert. so even if the people living in the reflections were--as e-s thinks (or tells himself he thinks)--1/14th of a person, azem wouldn't notice or care.

azem grieved the final days not because of the loss of amaurot per se but because he hated both of the proferred solutions and yet didn't know what else to do. i hc nobody wanted zodiark at all until he was already there and tempered the convocation--it was just the only shot they had. we know venat didn't like it, but we also don't know (i think?) what she believed they ought to do instead, if anything.

seeing not only this horrific sacrifice to summon zod but then the perversion of people azem knew and loved afterward. + venat making what is a pretty extreme decision herself is what fucked him up the most. it just seemed like the world went totally crazy and he had no way of learning why. so if azem survived the sundering somehow he would wile away the eons trying to find out what went wrong. and i wonder if venat would even choose to help him. i don't think she would. so the conflict in this instance would be not between an ascian and humanity but between unsundered critters. because venat sees the danger in her failure to sunder a handful of the most powerful amaurotines even if one of them is a good person and even if he isn't tempered. the combination of unsundered strength with the hubris they share with the sundered is what she wanted to get rid of. her real enemy isn't zodiark, it's the culture and ability that creates a hermes. and as long as there are unsundered people still alive so is the threat. it can only end with them fighting, right? it would be messed up if hydaelyn tapped some heroes to (try to) kill him lol.

he'd probably be fighting with the other three unsundered too if they were still there but i also think he would pursue a way to cleanse tempering because our hero is the king of "there must be a better way" and im gonna be honest with you i think it's ridiculous that alisaie was somehow the first person ever to figure this out so he would figure it out. and then who knows. more AUs for me to ponder

#ffxiv

219 notes · View notes

wetbloodworm · 9 months ago

Text

doing a merripen run in bg3 so some notes on that. not spoiler-free!!

technically i started a run and lost it to patch/mod fuckery so i had to start over but i'm not too mad about that. i used a masc body and voice for him in the first run before realizing i don't have to do that just because he's a man. body 1 and one of the fem voices fit him better. he doesn't have to look or sound any particular way to unequivocally be a man. this is so freeing and when i remade him i was like YES this is IT that's MY BOY!! and ty larian for just letting me select his gender separately from these factors, unlike some games [makes direct eye contact with cp77]

went with great old one for his pact bc fathomless isn't an option. there's one on nexus but from what i can tell it doesn't utilize any dialogue tags, so great old one is good enough. they've both got tentacles it's fine

i'm gonna do something fun with this, which is decide when beul would be likely to try to take over and then use their lvl 10 character sheets to do a wisdom contest to see who wins. if beul wins, i'm playing it either until it would decide to pull back or at the start of the next long rest. this could have... consequences, considering beul is deeply homicidal. it's most likely to take over if it feels like the body is in danger and merri isn't handling the situation to its satisfaction, or if there’s an opportunity to gain power, or if there's an irresistible opportunity to kill people that merri isn't acting on. also if there's water nearby that it wants to jump into. the two can negotiate sometimes so it won't be EVERY time, but the two also don't get along great and beul can be spiteful. so we'll see how it goes.

merri really won't care about the tiefling/druid situation, like he gets feeling anxious about outsiders considering his upbringing but he also thinks the druids are being dicks. but it's also so not his problem. please just tell me where your healer is my brain is getting so crowded. since he's there he'll relay some info back and forth but he's not interested until zevlor implies someone should get rid of kagha. merri like well hang on now, THIS i can help with, if you can pay. i just have to figure out if merri would do his research first to minimize damage or if he's gonna just go after her immediately. might uh. might wait to level up some first if i'm turning the whole grove against me. because merri was not trained to minimize damage.

during the first run i was really not expecting him to go for laezel, but it turns out he really likes how direct and intense she is! when you agree to hook up she says something like 'i will come to your tent tonight and take you' and merri was just like

during her sex scene she also directs you and if you follow you're referred to as a lapdog and, yeah. yeah. merri's into being bossed around apparently.

i made a joke later on about him worrying about taking credit for something laezel did and wondering if she'd beat him up over it, but also is that actually a deterrent for him

i don't know if he'll do the full romance but we'll see

he does let astarion bite him though he makes him stop quick, and there's a war in his head because beul HATES this while merri is just yelling WE NEED HIM WE NEED HIM THERE'S A WORM IN MY BRAIN WE NEED OUR ALLIES DO NOT STAKE OUR ALLY!!!

merri is interested in power but not as much as beul. for instance, he would be on the fence about letting the hag take mayrina but beul might try to shove forward and agree to the deal. merri has NO interest in becoming the absolute but beul is super down for it. stuff like that. it'll be fun to see who wins out.

i just want wyll and merri to have warlock chats. oh your patron fucking sucks and took advantage of you in a dire situation? bro same. like the magic's great, but oof! the cost!

that's all i got for now except for this: a boy

tattoos are the closest i'm getting lmao. he should be bluer tbh i'll tweak that

#merripen tag

0 notes

noraechovixon · 2 years ago

Text

This post is literally me just trying to get rid of cringy tags I’d made when I was in highschool on here. (Mostly ended up as rambling in the tags)

#how do I even get rid of old tags #this is basically just a guess at how to #already getting kinda lazy #been playing xenoblade 3 and it’s actually a lot of fun #noah is one of the better protags I’ve seen in the series next to shulk for sure #rex was literally the worst #maybe he gets better toward the end but I’m not enduring rex for that long even if I liked nia alot #somehow haven’t been spoiled on that game either which is kinda funny but I wouldn’t care anyways since I just didn’t like xenoblade 2 #i even prefer xenoblade x over two and that game had some of the most annoying lyrics in its battle theme #i gave up after hearing something something whole different planet for like 20 hours Jesus #i do enjoy mechs though so I’ll probably give it another go after I finish with xeno 3 #i wonder if this is really gonna get rid of the old tags or if I’m just vibin here talking about a series I’ve both played most of #inserts all the reyn time jokes here please #you’re a lifesaver #Noah’s voice is really sells the character for me along with having interesting party members #one game I couldn’t stand just because it would reiterate constantly was tales of arise #the game looked really great but it loved to tell you about something that just happened like 5 seconds ago for the rest of the playthrough #i got the halfway point and just said that’s enough out of that one and went back to playing xiv #game also had some bad grind if you were playing on the harder modes like I was #but strangly you could pay for level ups or items to help you level up which is both really stupid and why isn’t those options in the game #pay us money so you don’t have to grind as much when it should have been a reward #also day one costumes in games are the worst #like if your going to make extra outfits just to make more profit thats stupid too #rather just pretend the dlcs in games don’t exist unless it’s an expansion or something like with dark souls games as an example #those games would give you plenty to justify spending your money on them.

0 notes

airplanned · 2 years ago

Text

@linksthoughtbrambles

I wonder about this gif every time I see it! I have been too shy to ask about it. 😂

STAND BACK, EVERYONE! I’m about to talk about my favorite literary character of all time.

So.

There is a book called “Howl’s Moving Castle.” It is one of my favorite books, and I recommend it. Everyone should read it. Everyone should live tweet it and be sure to tag me when you do. Love this book. There is also a movie. You should watch it too, because the animation is excellent, but the story and everyone’s characterizations are very different.

The main character is a girl named Sophie, who is cursed towards the beginning of the book by the Witch of the Waste to be old. Sophie takes to this curse disturbingly well and spends the whole book giving very few shits and complaining about her back.

Anyway, she ends up wandering into the castle of the Wizard Howl. The castle moves. It’s Howl’s Moving Castle!

Howl is known around Sophie’s little village and (it turns out) the rest of the country, for being a powerful wizard who goes around eating girls’ hearts (figuratively? literally? No one knows or cares), but he’s also a complete disaster, very vain, and should not be trusted with anything important, because he will wander off instead and play the guitar or get drunk or something.

So, of course, Sophie decides she’s going to live in this moving castle and clean it. She is the cleaning lady now. She asks no one if they’re cool with this, and there’s no way to get rid of her. But Howl doesn’t really seem to give a shit who lives in his castle, because he’s too busy wandering about stealing hearts or whatever, so it’s all good!

Turns out Sophie is terrible at cleaning.

Just God awful.

So she moves a bunch of magic shit around, and Howl complains about it, and she’s like, “Whatever! I’m old!” and keeps doing a terrible job.

Then she gets to the bathroom.

Which is full of all of Howl’s hair and skin products.

Which Sophie rearranges and consolidates and pours out and whatever.

So Howl takes one of his overly-long baths. And then comes running out! Horrified!�� Scandalized! His life is fucking over, because LOOK AT HIS HAIR! It is ORANGE! WTF Sophie?! (bonus points because in the book, Sophie has red hair when she’s not old, so him being rude about being ginger is fucking typical.)

“Whatever,” Sophie says. “It’s fine.”

“NoooooOOOOOOoooooOOOOO,” Howl says. And he flops into a chair, thunks his head onto the side of the fireplace and starts oozing. He is catatonic and green ooze just...seeps out of him until the ground is so covered in slime that they have to wade through it.

Things are terrible.

He’s just gonna lie there and ooze.

So that’s the .gif: him oozing. The fire demon who lives in the fireplace is in danger of going out from the ooze. Sophie eventually has to drag him away so he can have an ooze-y pout somewhere else and she can do a bad job cleaning up the slime.

And I feel it is a very good metaphor for my writing in a tounge-in-cheek kind of way. Things are terrible! Woe is me! I shall lie on the floor and ooze!

(Other things I like about Howl:

he spends the whole climax drunk/hung over

He is completely full of shit at all times

He is from a “distant land,” which when you realize that makes a slew of other stuff really funny

Like the many fake names he’s given himself (because he is full of shit)

And like the “saucepan song” that he and the fire demon know and the fire demon teaches Sophie, so she’s just over here singing this song

Anyway, he’s great. He’s an asshole, and I love him.

#Howl's Moving Castle

58 notes · View notes

thehollowwriter · 3 years ago

Text

Bathtime With the Twst Boys: Heartslabyul

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ❤)

Blushing Riddle with his knees drawn towards his chest in a bubbly bathtub while you rub conditioner into his hair.

Riddle sat awkwardly in the bathtub, silently swatting the bubbles with his knees drawn to his chest as the soapy water warmed his skin. "I-Is this really necessary?" He asked, cheeks burning red. You smiled at him and continued massaging his scalp, making sure the conditioner did its job. "Of course! We've gotta keep that hair squeaky clean!" Rather than say "But I can do it myself" as he had tried many times before, Riddle simply continued to stare at the water with a bright red face. "...Thank you."

Trey is probably awkward, but open enough to enjoy himself, offers to return the favour.

You leaned back, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you let your tired arms rest. Trey smiled at you and shifted around so that he was sitting behind you. "That was lovely, love. I believe I should return the favour." Without missing a beat, he smeared some shampoo on his hands and began weaving his fingers through your hair. After a few minutes of washing and rinsing, you felt your body relax, and a tired yawn slipped out. Trey raised an eyebrow. "Tired?" You nodded. "Well then, we should finish up and get to bed. Cuddles would be wonderful right about now."

Carer gets all kinds of stuff for you to try on his hair to the point your hands would probably get wrinkly.

"Come on!" Cater handed you another bottle of shampoo. The fourth one this evening, to be precise. "This one is trending on Magicam too! Sales are skyrocketing and it's apparently great for your hair!" You chuckled. "Okay then. Your words. Though my hands are all wrinkly now." You looked down at them, then back at Cater. "I'm turning into an old person by the second." At your words, Cater grinned."I know several lotions that get rid of wrinkles!" You smiled at him. "Is that so?" You already knew. This was gonna be a long night...

Deuce is just stiff the entire time because he doesn't want to do anything embarrassing, but he then almost falls asleep.

You had been in the bath for ten minutes and Deuce had not. Moved. A. Muscle. He stared dead ahead, a determined look in his eyes. He refused to make an embarrassment of himself in front of you. However, his silence and unrelenting stillness had begun to concern you. "Deuce?" You cautiously poked his back. "Deuce?" He didn't answer. "Deuce, are you okay?" You were beginning to freak out when you heard an unexpected sound coming from him. "Zzzzzzzzz..." Oh. So that's what it was. Smiling, you reached forwards and pinched his shoulder. Hard. Deuce jolted awake and screeched loudly. "I SWEAR I WASNT SLEEPING IN CLASS, PROFESSOR TREIN-" When he realised where he was, he looked at you and went beet red. "Uh.. Sorry..." So much for not embarrassing himself.

Ace is just a mess, splashing around and being all smug about the entire thing like a jerk.

"Don't." You narrowed your eyes at Ace. He smirked back. "Don't you dare." He raised his hand. "Don't. You. Dare." Without hesitation, he splashed water right into your eyes. You screeched and hit him. "ACE!" He burst out laughing as you rubbed your eyes and scowled at him."I'm sorry, I had to! Your reaction was priceless! I didn't know you could make sounds like that!" His laughter trailed off when he noticed your menacing aura. "Y/N..?" He called out nervously. You grinned at him. Then tackled him down into the bath. He let out the most girly high pitched scream you had ever heard. And that was the end of Ace Trappola. :)

..................................................................................

A/N: Well this was fun to write! All scenario ideas above the scenarios belong to the person who asked for this

Tagging: @honey-milk-depresso @rozengrotto

#twst #twisted wonderland #scenarios #fluff #riddle rosehearts #trey clover #cater diamond #ace trappola #deuce spade #riddle rosehearts x reader #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #heartslabyul #twst fluff #writing

676 notes · View notes

mrskurono · 3 years ago

Photo

title: comfort in the devil || Shinra Kusakabe x fem!Reader a/n: feeding myself first and foremost word count: 3.1k tags: dark content, mention of death, mention of child lost, scars from burns, age gap (Shinra 18/19 and Reader is 28/29), mommy kink, pining, porn with minor plot, groping, oral sex, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, creampie, mild breeding mention, unedtied character(s): Shinra Kusakabe (Fire Force) synopsis: This takes place the evening after episode 4. After Shinra has had his run in with Hibana and previously with Joker at the rookie games he’s left restless. As is a senior staff with Obi and teased to be the “mother” of Company 8. You find most recruits branch out after they’re comfortable but Shinra repeatedly seeks your comfort after the hardest missions.

One deep breath.

You let the smells of infernals, wet gear and a weary day leave you like any other day. These weren’t things you chose to hold onto in the confines of your room in the barracks. Your only home and you chose to leave fire fighting outside the door.

Cleansed of the smells of the day as well. You tightened the silken tie around your robe and sat with a low sigh on your bed.

Where the days thoughts ended. Past ones resurfaced like they did every night.

Ones you chose to leave in this very room no matter how old they were. Ones that you didn’t take with you on the job. But heavily influenced all your years as a fire solider.

Engrossed in your thoughts like a smoldering ember. It was a wonder you didn’t drop what was in your hand when there was a knock at your door.

“Um, second lieutenant...” A muffled voice followed the noise, “Are you awake?”

Glancing behind you at the clock on your bed stand. It was only nine so there was no surprise the others would still be awake. Even less of a surprise when you opened the door to see Shinra standing there.

Like the ticking on your bed side clock, it was in time with when his red eyes fell on you did his grin curl up on his lips involuntary. Something you looked past now and offered him your own soft smile, “Shinra, you should be resting.”

“I’m sorry- I can come back-” Shinra rubbed the back of his head as he saw the wrinkles in your bed behind you and tried to not look at the robe you were draped in, “I can-”

“I wasn’t sleeping.” You let him off the hook for the guilt of waking you up, “So don’t worry I just got back from the showers. Did you wash up?”

“Y-Yes.” He quickly nodded. Quick to look down at his feet before taking a deep breath, “I just- I wanted to thank you for today.”

“Huh?”

“For standing up to that Company five captain. For this company and...well...me too.”

“Oh! You mean Princess Hi-blegh,” Sticking your tongue out childishly at the mention you wink at him and nudge his side, “If anyone’s gonna order you around it’s gonna be me silly.”

Shinra’s face lit up as red as his flames. Stumbling over his words and looking the part of a fool with his wide grin he couldn’t get rid of. Perhaps a little mean to tease him. It wasn’t until you reached out and ruffled his hair did he stop short circuiting.

“You had to do something really difficult today Shinra,” The hand that ruffled his dark hair came down to cup his cheek, “I’m proud of you but...it’s weighing on you isn’t it?”

He had to give a remorseful nod to your words. Finally his smile was beginning to fade. As did his eyes when Shinra looked down, “I can’t stop thinking about how infernals were people...even people who protect others from fire...Why do we do this if this will just happen?”

Giving his shoulder a squeeze you nod back to your room, “There’s a lot of reasons we do it. You look tired, come sit down at least.”

To get to see the insides of your room was exciting as it could get. Shinra’s involuntary smile tweaked up on his lips a little as he was ushered into your room. Door shut behind the two of you as he looked the place over.

Much different than the barracks he was sharing with Arthur and a simple bunk bed. Shinra would have mistaken this for a bedroom simply apart of a house had he not know walking out your door would put him smack dab in the middle of Company 8′s hallways. He watched as you sat back down at the head of your bed. Back in the dip where you spent so much of your time if it wasn’t out fighting fires.

Your eyes lighten on Shinra standing in the middle of the room, “You can sit down silly. Hinawa isn’t gonna burst in and yell at you for doing nothing.”

Stiff about it, Shinra skirted his way to the foot of your bed. Still smiling as he looked at you with that oddly shakable nerves for someone who wanted to be a hero. It was almost too much for the new recruit until his eyes lightened on the picture beside your bed.

“You’re a mom?” Shinra popped off so surprised his smile deserted him.

The company joke of calling you mom had worn off for everyone but Shinra. Who had slipped up a few times even in front of people. Some teased him. Others and yourself just smiled and let him say it. But to see the very clear picture of you big and swollen filled him with conflicting thoughts.

“Oh this?” You said like it was just another knickknack on a shelf. Taking it into your hands you stare down at the picture of a second before laughing, “Didn’t loose that baby weight that’s for sure. I was not a pretty pregnant woman I’ll say that.”

“That’s not true!” Shinra’s ears burned red and he choked on his words, “Wait- I mean- You’re pretty now- I just- That’s wait not what I meant to say- Shit no I just-”

Quietly you passed the picture of yourself over to Shinra with hardly a real smile on your lips as you looked at the picture, “You asked why we do this...lots of us have personal connections to the fires that take lives.”

Quickly he clammed up with the picture frame in his hands. Shinra looked from the old photograph to you. And back again. Voice caught in his throat.

“...I lost my only child to spontaneous combustion.” You answer his questioning look without him having to say anything, “There’s no rhythm or reason as to why it happens or what causes it.”

Shinra looked down at the picture feeling a tightness in his chest, “...how old were they?”

Scooting closer so you could look at the picture. Your hand touched down the side of it’s frame and brushed across Shinra’s hand, “Only a few minutes old when it happened. I...I only survived because I could control the fire. I didn’t right away, well, because of shock.” You smile down at the only picture you have to remind you of such a thing, “Like most fire fighters I bear the scars of flames that touched our lives. My stomach and thighs suffered some scarring. But I lived.”

“...they didn’t though.” Shinra regretfully said as he looked up at you, “What about your husband?”

You smiled and took the frame back when he offered it, “Never married. Left before delivery. For the best I guess.” Setting the frame back on your night stand you let your eyes linger for a second, “That’s where I met Captain Obi. And figured out what I could do to not succumb to the same fate.”

“That’s why you joined the Fire Force?” Shinra blinked.

“Yeah, more or less,” You turn to him and smile, “Not much different since you joined because of your mother and brother’s death.”

Shinra’s gaze dropped to your lap inadvertently, “No...I guess not.” He stays quiet for a moment before opening his mouth again, “...are you afraid?”

“There’s lot of things to be afraid of, might have to be more specific.”

“Afraid of loosing control. Of becoming one of them.”

You offer your open palm to him. Shinra stares at it for a second before putting his hand in yours. Instinctively gripping your palm a little tighter as he looks from the touch of your hand to you across from him. Finding a calmness wash over you when he sees you smiling, “No. Not really.”

Shinra squeezes your hand without a thought, “I don’t want to hurt the people I care about. I want to be a hero.”

“I know you do. And you are.” You run your thumbs over his knuckles, “If you weren’t a hero, you wouldn’t be here. In company eight. In here.”

He falls quiet for a second. Feeling oddly similar to the way he did when his mother tied that red cape around him. Warm and giddy. But not nervous. Even as he squeezes your hand again in his own and watches the tendons of his hand come to life. Shinra can’t help but pick through his words before he looks up at you.

“...I bet your scars are beautiful.” He says with such earnest intent that he speaks up again before you can retort, “You’re so beautiful and strong, I’m sorry. I just had to tell you. I’m so glad I’m in Company 8- I’m just so-”

“Shinra.” You interrupt him, trying to compose the smile curling up on your lips.

“...what?”

You blink a second to watch his pointed teeth peak behind his growing smile, “...do you want to kiss me?”

Heat flooded him.

“Yes!” Shinra swallowed the lump in his throat. Nodding like a mad man as he blinked repeatedly.

Leaning back into the pillows at the head of your bed. Not letting go of his hand. Shinra has no choice but to follow. Crawling above you until your hands slip apart. Leaving him staring down at you in awe.

Robe loosened, shoulders slumped off and it gathering around your waist as he crawled between your legs and hovered above you. It was your hands to come up and cup his face that finally made Shinra move on his own.

Bowing down to you the fire solider missed his mark only by a millimeter. Lips flush against one another when Shinra’s arm curled around your shoulders and you pulled him down on you. Arms draped around his shoulders as you held him close. Shinra clinging to you just as tightly.

What was a tender lopsided kiss. Sparked more than just that. Pluming into a deep passionate exchange. Your fingers finding the hairs at the nape of his neck. And Shinra pressing down into you as a moan escaped his lips. Snuffed out by how close you two were. The noises that followed were muffled at best.

Hands growing adventurous Shinra could feel the fire growing in his belly. Kissing you feverishly as he shifted a warm palm against your clothed breast. Silkiness of the robe in contrast to your squishy tit. He couldn’t help but squeeze.

“S-Shinra-” You moaned against his lips.

Hearing his name he panicked, “Oh no- Oh I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“Push it aside,” You instruct with a smile against his lips. One of your hands guiding him to slip his touch under your robe.

Palm fully flush against your warm breast. Shinra couldn’t believe what he was feeling. Even more so as he couldn’t stop smiling into the kiss. That didn’t stop you though. Instead helping him shimmy your robe off between heated pecks around his lips. Kissing him briefly and only lingering for moments as your bodies moved with one another seamlessly.

“Touch me more,” Your words breathless and encouraging. Shinra’s touch tenative up until now as he wanted more of you and didn’t know what to do.

Stripped of the robe. With your breasts spilled out right in front of him. He sat back on his haunches for a second to take in the sight before him. And just as he expected, Shinra saw your burn scars from your side and wrapping down towards your thigh. And thought it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Bowing his head down there was no stopping him as his lips wrapped around your nipple. Almost in desperation. Both hands coming up to massage and grope your tits as he repeatedly switched his attention from one breast to the next. Tongue swishing over your nipples until he felt you pushing up into him and heard your moans. Only to switch to the other side and do exactly the same thing. All until you were panting out his name and combing delicate fingers through his mop of brown hair.

“Kiss me-” You gasped the second his lips popped off your nipple.

Shinra wasn’t going to disobey you. Even for this. He leaned up and caught your lips on his own. Warm and moist from all the attention he’d spent sucking on your tits. And now the very obvious result of that rubbing against your thigh as Shinra hovered above you. Grinding himself lightly against your thigh and moaning into the kiss.

“I- I wanna taste you mommy-” Shinra groaned against your lips.

Hands coming up to pull him back down to a heated kiss, you let the trail of spit follow your tongue as you slowly pulled away, “Let me taste you too baby.”

Quick to follow your instructions. Leading to the two of you laying side by side with ample access to exactly what you wanted.

Shinra’s face buried between your thighs in seconds. His hands gripping and groping your thighs as he pulled you into his face. Not even caring if he could breath. The first swipe of his tongue against your clit and he wanted more. Sweet muskiness filling his senses as his tongue lapped at your clit relentlessly. Shinra’s grip on your thighs sure to leave their marks but it couldn’t be helped as he hungrily devoured you.

Leaving his cock barely inches from your face. You had to squeeze your thighs and not thrust too much into his face before gaining your composure. The feeling of his tongue sending shivers throughout your entire body. What little wit you had to your was left to open your mouth wide to his inviting cock.

Waiting and wanting your tongue. You wrap your lips around his head and are immediately met with his lips buzzing against your clit as he moans. Trying your best to not grind into him too much. Your tongue makes short work of licking up and down his shaft. Lapping up what precum had leaked out during your make out session. Shinra tastes better than you could ever imagine. Leading you to bobbing your head up and down on his cock until you knew you had to stop at one noise.

“M-Mommy-” Shinra whimpered as his grip tightened on your thighs.

You had to stop. Even as your stomach tightened and you wanted nothing more than to cum on his face. You had to stop.

“Shinra-” You kiss along his thighs, “Please, I want you to fuck me. Please I-”

Quicker to flick back to him on top of you. Your words had Shinra scrambling on top of you. Until you were face to face again. His cheeks beat red but somehow he wasn’t grinning like a devil. Instead a half lidded trance as he stared down at you.

Unmistakably so, you reached up and brought his face down to yours. Kissing him as tenderly as you had when you both started. Not breaking the kiss for anything even as you shifted your hips up to align with his.

Following your lead Shinra held himself still as you pulled your panties away. Soaked to the core after his time spent between your legs. It took only a little bit of help to line his cock up against your entrance.

Before pushing inside you, Shinra broke the kiss only to press his forehead flush against yours. A hitch in his breath as the man sunk himself deep inside you. Flutter of your cunt adjusting to his cock as your moans bubbled up in your chest to join his own little mewls. Both of you standing still in time it seemed until you felt Shinra’s weight fully against your hips and his cock twitching inside you like none other.

Breathes shared between each other. You both stare at each other allowing the adjustments of your bodies to meet. Shinra slowly sinking into you and wrapping his arms around you. You doing the same as you embrace him above you and hold him tight.

“...I’m glad you’re here, Shinra.”

“...I’m glad to be here too.”

Entirely on top of you. Weight included. Shinra began slowly. For both your sakes. Hips moving back just enough to feel his cock slip from your warms folds. Each drag of his thrust sending shivers through your body that forced you to clutch him tighter. Lost in the moments that the thrusts were slow and rutting. Until both of you found each other panting into the other’s neck as Shinra slammed his cock deep inside you.

Thrusts hard enough to make the bed creak under you both. You clung to him as Shinra fucked you into the softness of your mattress. Chasing his own pleasure as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. Tightness of your cunt engulfing him sending him into a frenzy. Feeling like nothing he’d ever had before. A warmth like a fire that began growing in his stomach.

“Shit- I��m gonna cum-” Your voice surprised him in his trance, making him look down at you even as your hips and his kept repeatedly meeting as he slammed into you, “Shina- Fuck me-”

There was no way if you came he was going to hold it together. Hardly hanging on now Shinra rutted into you and lost all his sense of self, “Fuck- I wanna- I wanna cum in you- I wanna give you a new baby- I wanna fuck a new baby into you- Please y/n- Please- I love you-”

“Shit! Shinra!” Twisted by his words you yank him down onto you already spasming as your voice cracks in your chest and your body shudders under him, “Fill me! Fill me up Shinra! I- I want your baby!”

Walls clenching around him. Driven by his own need to cum. Shinra’s hips snapped into yours right through your orgasm. Flutter of your cunt around his cock with the way your juices made it that much easier to fuck you. He couldn’t think of anything except how to drive himself deeper into you as he tipped past the point of no return.

The first gush of warmth seeding your insides. Shinra’s hips sputtering out as he clung to you. All his weight on you as he rutted into you. Cum pouring into you as the fire solider thrusts only a few more times in lieu of his own orgasm. Panting, heavily, into the crook of your neck as Shinra’s cock twitched and gave you ever last drop he had. Hips tilted up just so that none of it seeped out around his cock. Even as Shinra gave one big sigh and collapsed onto top of you.

It was in the warm afterglow of his cock resting snug inside you. And Shinra’s hug not loosening. Did you turn your head to pressed your lips against his cheek. Hugging him just as tight as neither of you moved.

A deep breath. But not one that you wished to forget everything. It was a deep breath leaving you happier than the last time you could recall. A smoldering ember growing with the smile you kissed Shinra’s cheek with.

“....thank you, devil.”

#fire force #fire force smut #fire force x reader #fire force shinra #shinra kusakabe #shinra kusakabe smut #shinra x reader #shinra kusakabe x reader

553 notes · View notes

gaiuswrites · 3 years ago

Text

World's Best

Pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!Reader

Summary: Not every day is easy. Frankie makes it better.

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 2.2k~

Warnings/tags: smut, vague-ish descriptions of depression/mental health, hurt/comfort, fluff

Notes: Do y'all ever get into a funk and then attempt to write yourself out of one? Well, this is the v self-indulgent product of said instance heh. I have tagged a random assortment of potentionally interested people but obvi no pressure? idk? :) Sending so much love and well wishes to you guys. x

Masterlist | Read it on Ao3!

A sea of knotted sheets spans between you—as tangled as your legs—too tired, too leaden to unweave. The fan rotates in the corner, blowing stale air your way every few clicks. You dangle a foot off the bed, skin prickling as the weak breeze sweeps over you and a bead of sweat licks from your knee to slope down your calf. Morning sun leaks through the window— the finch perched on the tree just outside it chirping once, twice, before flitting off.

You’ve been reading the Sunday paper for a solid twenty minutes—which, in all honesty, is an overstatement; you started and quickly abandoned the Sudoku after a measly ten, and you’ve been staring at the same sentence in the local section for the other half, blinklessly hovering over the fine print.

You’re not here today. Not all of you.

There’s this sinking feeling, hollowing you out and unmaking you. It’s as if something unseeable is oozing over you - dripping - something treacle, something thick. You’re far away from yourself—far from the cornflower blue walls and the framed photos hanging on them—the happy faces in the pictures smiling back at you— far from the plants basking in the tines of filtered light by the sill, far from the body lying beside you.

You’re not always this way. Not every day drags like an inky smear, your mind meandering sluggishly in circles, holding you hostage in a prison of your own making; but you can’t say it’s foreign to you either. It’s old, familiar—like that sweater in your closet you’ve had for centuries and rarely wear, but can’t bring yourself to get rid of. You know it well, this slog—you have unwillingly memorized it’s sodden intricacies, and today you feel it. You feel every single one of your days—each grey hour— weighing heavy on your very bones.

heavy heavy

heavier, still.

If you’re not careful, you’ll sink straight through the mattress. You’ll nestle deep into the springs and make a home in the down. You’ll sleep there until you become it. Comfortable. Catatonic.

Frankie sips his coffee. He doesn’t look up from the email he’s skimming. “What’s wrong?”

The baritone of your boyfriend’s voice sucks you back to the present—to the tick of the clock marking the seconds, the whir of the fan. The paper crinkles as you lay it to your chest—big eyes feigning ignorance as you blink up at him, chewing your lip. “Hmm?”

“Baby, I know that face.”

“What face?”

“The one you’ve got on,” he replies, “that’s your ‘I’m-upset-and-I’m-trying-to-hide-it’ face.’”

“I-” you frown, “no it’s not.” Gingerly, you pat a hand around your temple, your cheek, as if you could see your expression through touch.

“Uh huh.” Frankie rolls his digit upon the mousepad, clicking and scrolling down the webpage, and your vision glazes over again—ugly thoughts fogging up the panels of your mind—

“You gonna talk to me about it?”

You blink, swallowing, “nothing to talk about.” You flap the paper, ironing out the pleats, and scan for that pesky paragraph you never managed to finish.

“Mhm,” he replies absentmindedly, bringing the mug to his lips and drinking with an all too obvious slurp.

“Really, I’m fine,” you say weakly. You’re not that convincing—you barely convince yourself.

“Sure, sweetheart. If you say so.”

He’s too casual; he’s letting it all go too easily and God, he’s gotten good at this—at coaxing the truth out of you. He doesn’t even have to try any more. He’s so kind and open and sincere, all he has to do is crack the door ajar—tempt you with an inch of space, with only a sliver of leeway—and immediately you want to plunge through it and chase after him, like a dog and a bone.

He makes you want to share; not because of what he says, but by everything he doesn’t—the welcoming gaps he leaves you with, the gaps you’re urged to fill. This happens every time—it’s pretty damn annoying, actually. You’re so miserably predictable. After three and a half years together, sometimes you think Frankie might know you better than you know yourself.

A scary thought—wonderful, too.

“I’m just-” You run a hand over your face, pressing into the bridge of your nose and you grunt, frustrated. Exhausted. “I’m just tired.”

Frankie settles his coffee cup on the hill of his sternum, closing his laptop quietly. He swivels his head to you, hair mussing into the wall.

“Of anything in particular?” he asks, linen soft.

“No, yes—I don’t know,” you heave—an errant thing fluttering around in your chest as you fold the newspaper, letting it float to the floor with a splat. “It’s just-” you worry the inside of your cheek raw, fumbling with the blur of your emotions. You shake your head. “It’s just a bad brain day.” Your voice is small as you slump into him, letting your body go limp.

“I’m sorry I get like this. I’m okay—I’ll be okay,” you mumble, face burrowed into his arm. He smells summered, like sweat and heat and the promise of long days fading into even longer nights, and you take a heady drag, inhaling his scent.

You hear him sigh, stretching as he sets the mug and computer down on the side table. He shifts back to you, snaking an arm under your body as you coil your own around his center, hugging him close.

“You know, it’s alright if you’re not,” Frankie murmurs into your hair, planting a kiss at the crown of your head. “And you know you don’t have to hide from me when you aren’t.” His thumb finds your arm, the chewed nail bed scratching soothing circles along your skin.

Your gut somersaults, flipping and purring, and all you can do is press your lips to the cottoned shoulder of his tee shirt—the one with the holes in the collar and motor oil stain on the hem; all you can do is tighten your grasp, wringing around his cozy waist.

“And you know that nothing you say is gonna scare me away, right? I’m always going to be here for you.” Frankie gives your forearm a reassuring squeeze.

God, this man.

You nuzzle further into his chest—snuggled and swaddled in the safety of his warmth—and you mumble something incoherent, muffled against his relaxed body. His beard catches on your fly-aways as he dips to hear you better. “What was that honey?”

“I said,” you crane your neck, lifting out of his side, “you really are the ‘world’s best uncle’.”

A ripple of confusion twists over his features before you bat your eyes up to meet his, shooting a glance over to that exact phrase wrapping itself around the ceramic cup beside him.

You got stuck with it at some terrible white elephant exchange last Christmas. It’s fucking tacky and aggressively large—not even you - you, in all your caffeine dependency - can chug that much coffee fast enough in one sitting without it going cold— and neither of you have any nieces or nephews to speak of…

Naturally, it’s become your favorite mug.

Frankie barks out a laugh, his stomach flexing against your grasp. “Oh yeah? Is that all I am?” he smirks, a glint of mischievousness reflecting in his irises as he bores down at you.

You quirk an eyebrow, a coy tug blooming across your lips. “I dunno,” you drawl sweetly, “you going to prove me otherwise?”

His face is split into a grin now, wide and aching and unnecessarily endearing. His hair is a mess, wavy tufts jutting out every which way, and his eyelids are still puffy from what little slumber he was lucky enough to get in your hot, cramped apartment.

You really can’t keep putting it off—you need to buy an AC unit.

His focus dances from your eyes to your mouth, breath hitching as he watches you skip your tongue over the plush mound there. “I just might,” he growls playfully, maneuvering you onto your back with one broad swoop, pinning you to the bed.

He makes love to you like a man unburdened - untouched - by time. He fucks into you slowly, unhurriedly—at a pace that’s mind numbingly measured and patient. Frankie devastates you, dragging himself through your walls from head to hilt, letting you feel every ridge, every vein of him; filling you up so impossibly well—his thick cock sauntering in and out, and in and out again. Each roll of his hips makes you gasp, his blunt tip brushing against that deep, uncharted chasm within you that tempts you into oblivion. Your legs are locked around him, crossed at the ankles, and the perspiration at the pits of your knees slicks his sides.

Frankie’s palms dimple the fitted sheet as he brackets your head, burying himself into the crook of your neck. He moans—hot breath ghosting over the prickled skin there, babbling disjointed strings of guttural praise into your ear.

Fuck baby—fuck you feel good

How’d I get so lucky, how’d I-

God, you’re a— fuck

You’ve got the perfect pussy—made for me

Made for me, made for me, made for-

You turn your head and capture his mouth with your own, whimpering into him as he nips at your bottom lip and bites. You scrape your fingers through his scalp, pulling at his locks, and Frankie whines a tortured noise—giving an especially hard thrust that pries a yelp from your throat. He rears his head back, catching your gaze, a concerned line creased into his brow. “Y-You okay?”

“No- nono, yes Frankie. Again, right there,” you beg, lashes fluttering.

He darkens—the timbre of his voice made husky and raw as he drinks in the sights and sounds of you mewling for him, splayed and needy. “You like that?” Frankie drives into you again, sharp and searing as he bottoms out, the smattering of curls at the base of him soaked with your gloss. “You need it hard, baby? You want it rough?”

You whimper, clawing desperately at the nape of his neck. “I just—I just want you, all of you,” you pant as you hold his stare—the gorgeous, chestnut gleam of it—and the wordless expression that crests over his features makes you want to cry. The precious indent in his cheek, the stubble littering his jaw, his sculpted nose and clever lips, the sad rings under his eyes—the grooves he thinks you don’t notice, the grooves he tries to mask by always taking care of you, always putting you first, even when he shouldn’t.

Fuck, he’s so beautiful—he’s so beautiful you could weep.

“You have me,” he rasps breathlessly, bowing to meet you in a messy whirl of tongue and teeth before breaking away—forcing himself up off his hands and back onto his shins. He hooks an elbow under your knee, letting the other frame the outside of his hip. “I’m right here—you have me, you have me-”

Frankie’s hips are frantic now, pulsing in short, strong bursts as he grinds into you. He dips a hand to your center, pad of his thumb working erratic, sloppy flicks over the sensitive nub of your swollen clit. Your feet arch, the muscles there constricting as the tension in you mounts.

“Babe.” You’re whining now, vulnerable and shaking and fuck, you’re going to come apart—any moment now, any unbearable second, you’ll snap. “F-Frankie, baby oh god—”

You clamp a hand over your mouth, eyes screwing shut as you shatter. Like a vase crashing onto kitchen tile, you break into a million jagged fragments. Your cunt seizes, legs spasming against him as he fucks you through your orgasm, and it doesn’t take long for the tight contractions of your heat to yank him right off that same ledge. The both of you—tumbling and fracturing into terrible, perfect shards—to be intermingled and scattered among each other’s glass pieces.

Indiscernible. The same.

When you glue yourself back together again, you will find parts of him there - here, within you - filling your jigsawed cracks like golden ore.

Frankie slips out of you with a squelch and a huffed groan, collapsing to the mattress in a panting heap. His cum dribbles from your apex and you shiver at the feeling of it—at the feeling of him, warm and wet and lingering inside you. He rests his cheek on your breast while you both catch your breath—rising, falling. Waxing, waning. Two pitter-pattering hearts beating in time.

The sheets have been sloughed, lazy and forgotten, to a crumpled pile on the wood floor and the steam once rising from the mug on the nightstand has long since disappeared. It’s too muggy for you two to be this entwined—his leg draped over you, a big arm slung across your belly—but neither of you dare move. Neither of you have the energy, never mind the desire.

The clock whispers in the morning quiet.

A new bird claims the branch the finch left—she sings now, roosting there in the birch.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur sleepily, drawing patterns into the valley of his spine, mapping out his freckles and moles and scars. “Thank you,” you say. Thank you for putting up with me, thank you for understanding me, thank you for listening even when I cannot speak. “I love you so much.”

Gently, silently, Frankie tilts his head, bristled hair peppering your flesh as he mattes your skin with his lips; laving along your breasts, across your clavicle and up the plain of your neck—each kiss a response, each kiss a truth.

You don’t have to apologize

You don’t have to thank me

I love you

I’m right here

I love you

tags:

@pedros-mustache @roxypeanut @frannyzooey @djarinsbeskar @read-and-rec @keeper0fthestars @krissology @greatcircle79

#frankie x reader #frankie morales x reader #frankie x you #frankie morales x you #triple frontier fic #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales #pedro pascal #fanfic #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfic #hurt/comfort #triple frontier

376 notes · View notes

shoutaaizawas · 4 years ago

Text

↳ pro!hero bakugou katsuki x reader → heal

summary: you’re bakugou’s best friend and work partner and you’ve been in love with him for years. after his girlfriend cheats on him you’re left to pick up the pieces. tags/warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, angst with a happy ending, very minor injury (blood), cheating (not by bakugou or reader), unrequited love (spoiler but not really) word count: 3,804 a/n: this was my first time writing any x reader. hope you guys enjoy it!

You loved Bakugou Katsuki. That was a fact that you had accepted a long time ago and you were now at peace with that. You had gone to school with him and once you both graduated you worked at the same agency. Your quirks were a good match so you had been working together ever since. When he started his own agency he took you with him.

The thing is, you never told Bakugou that you loved him. He was always so focused you assumed that he wouldn’t want a relationship and frankly despite all the things you had accomplished you were self-conscious and it was hard to think Bakugou would ever settle for someone like you.

A few years ago Bakugou started dating. You could still remember the hurt that burned in your chest as you tried to play it off and tease him like everything was normal. You spent most nights crying yourself to sleep a few weeks after that day.

She was a civilian, who in your opinion was very unlikable. You knew it was petty and you should be more mature but there was something about her that felt off. You figured it was your jealousy. You recalled the time she had ended up in some trouble, you had been able to pull her to safety only. Not only did she not thank you but she gave you an attitude. You figured she didn’t like you because you spent so much time with Bakugou in and out of work. You could understand that to some degree but it didn’t hurt to pretend to be nice.

It was so much easier loving Bakugou from a distance when he was single, you could tell yourself that he would never date anyone or marry them and that being his best friend was the most anyone would ever have. If you could talk to him, joke with him, look after him from his side as a friend you were content.

With him dating the dull ache of unrequited love turned into a dagger in her chest, burning pain only intensified by any movement. You wondered if you should try dating around. Maybe you could find someone who liked you that you could fall in love with and forget about Bakugou. You never got around to it, every time you seriously considered it you thought it’d be unfair to whoever you dated. They deserved someone who truly loved them, not someone trying to put a bandage on a broken heart.

Last week you had caught Bakugou red-handed, a small velvet box in his pocket. Your heart dropped, you thought you had hit rock bottom but it turns out you could always go deeper.

“Is that what I think it is?” You asked, trying to play it off as teasing. You prayed he couldn’t hear the crack in your voice.

“Shut up, it’s none of your business.” He growled back but you knew it was just because he was embarrassed.

“I’m surprised I never saw you as the marriage type.” You tried to say in a nonchalant tone.

“We’re getting old. We have to settle down eventually.” He said. The words stung, you knew he meant them aimed towards himself but you couldn’t help the bile that rose in your throat. I would have settled down with you but now I can’t look at another man without comparing everything about them to you. Who could ever come close to the Bakugou Katsuki.

“Bakugou we’re twenty-six, we just barely became adults if we’re being honest.” You joked.

“Well, I don’t want to be an old parent.” He said, eyes scanning the streets for any trouble. Your heart dropped a little more.

You wondered if you were strong enough to stand by and watch the love of your life get married and have children with another woman. You wondered how long it would be until you had to find an excuse to move away.

“I’m gonna head home since patrol is over.” You said trying to keep your voice steady.

“You aren’t going back to the agency?” He asked giving you an odd look, sensing something off. You knew each other too well.

“No, I have plans later I need to get home fast. I’ll get my paperwork done tomorrow, boss.” You lied about the plans, you needed to get away fast.

It doesn’t get rid of the suspicious look on his face but he doesn’t question you further and you quickly make your exit, barely able to keep it together until you get out of sight. You duck into an alley as tears stream down your face.

You haven’t seen Bakugou today. That concerns you, he never misses work for anything. You can’t count how many times you’ve had to drag him home and force him into bed after he comes into work with a high fever. You make sure things are covered at the agency before heading over to his apartment. Your heart beats quick, he hasn’t replied to your texts. It’s hard to keep the worst-case scenario out of your head.

Knocking on the door to his apartment you get no reply. Pressing your ear to the door you can hear a commotion, fear grips you, and you almost kick the door down before your rational sense tells you to use the key he gave you.

Bakugou’s apartment is a war zone. Furniture is turned over, glass smashed across the ground. You can smell the familiar lingering scent of his quirk. You would have thought he had been robbed if it weren’t from the sound coming from the bedroom.

Opening the door to his bedroom it’s even worse in here somehow. Bakugou is currently smashing picture frames against the wall. It’s distressing to see him so upset and not have a clue what’s going on.

“Bakugou!” You shout hoping to get his attention but he’s blinded by his anger. You let out a huff of frustration before moving closer to him, grabbing his arm as he goes to slam the already mangled frame again.

You’re startled but not shocked as he turns around in the blink of an eye and grabs onto your bicep, fingers digging in you can feel your skin under his hand start to burn.

“Bakugou! Snap out of it!” You shout again. Recognition crosses his face and he looks a little more coherent. You’re waiting for him to say something but he drops to the ground like dead weight, his hands pressing into his palms. You kneel, careful of the glass on the ground.

“Bakugou? What happened?” You ask in a softer voice. He takes so long to reply that you wonder if he will answer.

“She cheated.” You can barely make out the words through his covered face.

“What?” You ask.

“She was cheating on me!” He yelled pulling his hands away, the anger returning. “She was cheating on me for months like it was some game. When I confronted her about it she didn’t even try to defend herself. She wasn’t even upset.”

“Bakugou, I’m so sorry.” Your heart is breaking but not for yourself, this time it’s for the man in front of you that looks broken. You realize that he has cuts all over his body from the damage done to the apartment. “C’mon.” You say holding your hand out to him.

He looks at you confused but takes it. You lead him to his bathroom, sitting him down on the edge of the tub. The first aid kit is under the bathroom sink, you had patched him up here before.

Returning to him you kneel on the ground in front of him. You begin cleaning the cuts that litter his arms, wiping up the blood covering his arms. You look up at him and his eyes look so empty as he stares at the ground past you. Your overwhelmed by the urge to take him in your arms but decide against it. No, you should patch him up first.

You put band-aids on the ones that need them and leave the smaller ones uncovered. You lean up so your eye level with him, he has a cut across his cheek. You’re careful as you dab at it with a cloth, he doesn’t react if it does hurt. You put a band-aid on it before looking him in the eyes, his gaze still on the floor.

It hurts you so much to see him like this, it breaks you. What you would give to have him insulting you about something dumb you did or yelling about how you left your coffee mug on his desk again. Anything other than the painful silence. You lift your hand and softly cup his unharmed cheek, his gaze slowly raises to meet yours. Your thumb gently strokes the skin there hoping that it will soothe him in any way he can be at the moment.

You finally lean forward and embrace him, pressing your face into his shoulder avoiding any of the cuts on him. Your arms circle around his torso and you squeeze him tightly. You wish you could hug him tight enough to put him back together. It takes a moment but he eventually rests his head against your shoulder and he returns the hug. His grip is tight on the back of your shirt and you know he’s trying to pull the broken pieces back together himself. I would do anything for you to make this pain stop, you think.

You don’t know how long you stay there, holding each other tight but eventually you decide you should leave. The last thing he needs is to be stuck in the apartment that he shared with his girlfriend, the one that was currently trashed.

“Let’s go to my place.” You offer. “You can stay as long as you want, you shouldn’t stay here.”

He nods and your stomach drops, normally he would protest even if he agreed with what you wanted to do. It made you feel sick that he gave in so easily. You nod back before standing up and going into his room. You grab a duffel bag and grab his clothes and other things he’ll need while away from his home. By the time you’re done, he’s standing there watching you wordlessly.

“Let’s go.” You say you take his hand in yours. You had known Bakugou for years and worked by his side for most of them, this wasn’t the first time you had held his hand but the conditions were usually different. Normally you were dangling off the edge of a building as he pulled you up or you were dragging him out of harm’s way.

Holding his hand now was different, you could actually take note of what it felt like. His hand was much larger than yours, the callouses on his hand rougher than your own. It was easy to pretend that the circumstances were different, that you were dragging him out of his apartment to your favorite place to grab dinner together instead of taking him home with you to help console him from what had happened.

The car ride is silent, he’s still processing everything that’s happened and you have no words to say. You know that he needs time to think about everything, you refuse to push him to talk. Growing up you had to if you ever wanted him to process his emotions but Bakugou had matured a lot as he grew up and you knew that when he was ready he would talk.

“Here, you can take a shower if you want or you can change into something less torn up.” You say as you press the bag of clothes into his arms. “I’m going to make us lunch.”

“I’m not hungry.” He says. His retort gives you hope that he’s beginning to return to himself and not the empty shell of person who sat on the edge of his tub.

“I doubt you ate breakfast, I know you probably don’t want to eat but I’m making food and you’re going to eat at least a little bit.” You say. He doesn’t argue again, he heads towards your bathroom needing no directions.

You’re glad that you went grocery shopping yesterday. Even more glad that you always make sure to keep the ingredients to make Bakugou’s favorite dish in your fridge in case of emergencies. Or him demanding that you make it for him, as he does at times.

He’s in the shower for a long time. You’re finishing up lunch and you’re about to go check on him when you hear the water stop. You’re plating up the food when he walks into the kitchen wearing a fresh pair of sweat pants and a black shirt. His eyes are red but you don’t comment on it. You shove the bowl of food in his hands.

“Extra spicy, just how you like it.” You tell him as you grab your food. “Let’s sit down.”

You sit down on the couch in your living room eating in silence. Despite his denial of being hungry his food is gone in minutes. You grab his empty bowl from him to take it to the kitchen but before you can get up his hand is grasping your wrist. You look at him and his gaze is on the mark he left on your bicep when you pulled him out of his rage.

“I’m sorry.” His voice is raw and the guilt is clearer than day on his face. He slowly reaches towards your arm, his thumb softly glides at the edge of the minor burn.

“It was an accident.” You tell him in the most genuine tone you can manage, he’s been through enough the last thing he needs is to feel guilty for this. “Besides, I can handle you.” You tease trying to lighten the mood. Your hand covers his own on your arm and you squeeze it to emphasize your point. His hand drops back to his lap after a moment and you leave for the kitchen.

When you return to the living room you see him sitting there, he looks less empty but more annoyed. You figure he’s had enough time to process most of his feelings.

“How did you find out?” You ask, testing the water. If he didn’t reply you’d know he wasn’t ready.

“She left her phone when she left for work, I grabbed it to give it to her before she got out of the building but I saw her notifications.” He said. Pain stings in your chest for him, you can’t imagine how upsetting that would be. “She came back for her phone and I confronted her.”

“What did she have to say?” You ask.

“She acted like she got caught sneaking a cookie before dinner, she barely even cared.” He said, anger returning to his tone. “She’s been with him for six months, she said that she was only ever with me for my money and status. She wanted someone she could brag about.”

“Bakugou,” You said putting a hand on his arm.

“I guess it’s only fair.” He scoffed. “I never loved her either. But I’m still pissed off she made a fool of me.”

“You didn’t love her?” You tried to keep your tone even but it comes out like an exclamation. “Bakugou, you were going to marry her!” You nearly shout. Had you really spend the last year suffering while Bakugou dated someone he didn’t even care about?

“No, it was just convenient.” He answered. “The person I loved, they would never want me. I figured I should just get over it and move on.” His gaze is on the floor.

Your sick again, he didn’t love his girlfriend but he loved someone else. You really couldn’t win, could you?

“Bakugou, why wouldn’t someone want you?” You ask. How could he believe that.

“I’m loud, angry, and rude.” He says. “I’m not good at relationships, I just screw everything up. She deserves someone who will make her happy not burden them with their crappy personality.”

“Don’t say that about yourself!” You scold him. “You’re an amazing man, you’re strong and determined. Even if you don’t show it like other people you care more than most people do about your friends. You would go to the ends of the earth to help them even if you don’t admit it. You’re the best hero I’ve ever seen. You’ve matured so much since we were in high school, you worked on yourself and became a better person. I’ve been by your side for years, don’t you dare say that you aren’t good enough. If anything, anyone you date will never be good enough for you. You’re the best man I’ve ever met, you deserve everything you want in the world.” You take a deep breath after your rant, it takes a moment to realize how much you spilled out.

His eyes are off the floor and he’s staring at you in shock. There’s something in his eyes you don’t recognize but he doesn’t say anything.

“Who’s the lucky lady?” You ask, trying to steel yourself for his answer. Whoever it was you would help him as much as you could to get their affections. It would kill you to watch him fall in love with someone else but more than anything you wanted to see him happy even if it cost you your own happiness.

“It’s you.” He says and the silence is deafening after his words. At first you think you misheard him. You feel dizzy at his admission. This had to be a dream, there was no way. “It’s always been you.”

“I-” You try to speak but there are no words. Your head is spinning, the world falling apart around you in the best of ways.

Bakugou moves slowly, one hand holding your face like it’s delicate glass, the other reaches behind you and pulls you softly to close the distance. He leans in, a breath in between you, you know he’s waiting for you to close the distance. To answer his confession without a word. Once your brain processes it all you lean in a little too excitedly almost knocking your forehead against his.

You move your arms around his shoulders as your lips meet.

With one action the dagger in your chest is suddenly gone and the pain there melts away. You feel like you’re submerged in warmth, laying in a grassy field in gentle sunlight. You kiss him until your lungs can’t take it anymore. As you part you stare into his eyes, they’re filled with so much warmth and love it makes you tear up. You lean back in for another kiss.

“Bakugou-” You say as you pull back.

“Katsuki.” He says. You had used his given name on occasion but it always felt too personal, your heart couldn’t take it.

“Katsuki-” You repeat, it feels right now. A small smile lights up his face, it’s like staring into the sun. “I love you, I’ve loved you since we were kids.”

“Me too.” He replies. You let out a laugh.

“We really wasted a lot of years.” You said, nose brushing against his, arms still around him. It was almost sad the time you could have spent happily together but you’re too excited by the years you’ll get to spend with him going forward.

“We did, I’m not going to waste any more time.” He said before moving in for another kiss.

Bakugou stays at your apartment for two weeks before he mentions moving into a new apartment. With your heart in your throat you offer for him to move in with you, he doesn’t hesitate to say yes.

You help him go through his stuff, tossing anything that was hers but she hadn’t taken or things that remind him of her. You stand at his side as he tosses the ring he bought for her off a bridge even though you told him he should just sell it. He refused, not caring about the money and definitely wanting to avoid the shame of selling an engagement ring.

He didn’t love her, he never did but he still bares the scars of her infidelity. His self-esteem in a relationship was already low but some days it feels even lower when he things about what happened. He knows you would never do the same but regardless you still hold him tighter on those days and you don’t hold back any of your love or admiration for him.

Sometimes he feels embarrassed that it went on so long without him knowing but you reassure him that the only person who should be embarrassed is her. You don’t call him a victim, no he would hate that, but you tell him that he deserves better. You can’t hold back your smile when he says he already has better now that you’re together.

You spend your workdays out on patrol together, your usual banter filling the day as you fight off any villains who dare make a mess in you territory. On your days off you spend time in each other’s arms, basking in the happiness you finally found together or out on dates. Sometimes he drags you hiking even though you hate the bugs and other times you make him go to theme parks and force a pair of mouse ears on him.

It doesn’t take long for Bakugou to propose. Your relationship had been so close for so many years that it becoming romantic didn’t change much. You already knew everything about each other, you knew how to work with each other at your best and your worst. Making it official was a natural step.

Watching him tear up as you walk down the aisle is something burned into your heart and mind and you refuse to let it go as long as you live. Spending the night dancing, eating, and drinking with your closest friends who all were relived you finally got together was an unforgettable time.

You lay beside Bakugou, arms wrapped around each other, legs tangled together. Your head rests on his chest, listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat. You hold onto each other as if you would lose each other if you let go. You can’t get rid of the big smile on your face as his hands move lazily through your hair nearly lulling yourself back to sleep.

You love Bakugou Katsuki. That was a fact and you were more than happy to spend the rest of your life at his side not just as a friend or partner but as the love of his life and that made you happier than anything ever could.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #mha x reader #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #x reader #bnha writing

3K notes · View notes

bluefirewrites · 3 years ago

Text

'A Floral Fixation’- Juke Florist AU Part 2

Continuation of my last post about Flower Delivery Girl!Julie where she works at her family's flower shop, The Petal Pushers, and ends up making regular deliveries to Luke.

Note the title is silly. Does not allude to anything else :)

Julie has no clue how one favor for a friend could lead to all of this.

Ever since her brief stint as a singing telegram as well delivery girl, she’s now playing this... game? Yeah, game is the appropriate word for it. This ‘game’ with Luke Patterson.

And it would go like this:

There would be a delivery for Luke Patterson, Julie would drop it off, wondering why yet another flower arrangement is being delivered to a 17 year old boy on what seems to be on a regular basis, he offers her a flower, she declines, then leaves.

Julie's only the messenger, she doesn't see who keeps ordering them for Luke or if Luke's ordering these for someone. She doesn't check the card.

Or she would if there is one. There would usually be a card with each order. Tía nowadays just hands over the flowers with a telling arch of her brows and Julie instantly knows she's pedaling those to Sunset Curve's garage.

But she’s convinced that it really is Luke calling in and making the orders because every delivery she makes to him is always different and every time she would give it to him, he would always ask if they were her favorites.

Julie found the whole thing amusing, toying with him. But she had made numerous attempts in the past to get him to stop. She couldn’t imagine what kind of strain this would have on his wallet (flowers ain’t cheap), and she didn’t plan to string him on like that. It wasn’t fair.

But Luke Patterson is determined.

Why? No clue. By her deeming it a ‘game’ implies that there is a winner. Some sort of prize when they reach the end.

Whenever that is.

Maybe she doesn’t want it to end so soon. Not when these deliveries may be an excuse to go see him after school. She doesn’t stick around though. She is on the clock after all.

In the meantime, she’s good to play. And when Luke Patterson manages to guess her favorite flower (there’s no chance), she will accept it when offered to her.

So far, it’s been sunflowers, hydrangeas, chrysanthemums, and many other kinds of flowers.

This time, as she pedals up to the garage, it's zinnias in her basket.

And this time, the rest of the band is there.

Julie knocks on the door again and Luke's the first one to reach her. He leans against the entryway, taking the bouquet from her, picking one flower, and tilting it in her direction- the usual dance.

"Zinnias. Tell me that I'm right,"

"Hmm..." she makes the move to take it and Luke brightens...

Only for her hand to land on his forearm instead, where she gives him a couple of pitying pats.

"Nice try," she smirks, swiftly turning on her heel and walking back to her bike.

She could hear Alex and Reggie jeer at Luke's dumbfounded expression, 'ooooh'-ing at her trick.

Luke, after shooting his friends a glare and tossing the bouquet at them, he catches up to her as she mounts her bike.

"I'm getting close, aren't I?"

"What makes you think that?" She ensures the rest of her deliveries are secure in the back and front, pretending not to know what he's talking about.

"You're not a dainty flower girl. I know that for sure. That's not who you are."

Julie squints at him, "We haven't started talking until now. How can you say that 'know' me?"

"I heard you sing," Luke says. That makes her bristle slightly. "Trust me. I know everything I need to know about you from that. And with that powerhouse of a voice? No way you'd be a daisy or a daffodil."

Julie tries not to smile, not wanting to give any indication that he was heading in the right direction. The compliment, however delivered in his own Luke way, nearly makes her grin. Yet, it’s the singing part that reminds her way she’s been keeping the boy at arm’s reach and not outright telling him her favorite.

She and music have a complicated relationship at the moment. Her singing the first time she was here had been a one off. If Luke’s expecting her to belt out songs constantly and be as passionate about music as he is, then he’ll be sorely disappointed.

And Julie’s done disappointing people. She’d rather do something new. Even though a really cute guy is humoring her with these antics.

“You know there’s over 300,000 species of flowers?”

“352,000″

Julie raises an eyebrow.

“I research,” he proclaims proudly, rocking on his heels.

Wow, he’s really pushing this.

“What are you getting out of this, Luke?”

“Maybe I’m just very interested in... flowers?”

“Uh-huh,” Julie purses her lips, reading between the lines, “Flowers. Right.”

“And I’m gonna continue to feed that interest... as long as it takes,”

“Or as long as your allowance can take it. Do you even have a job?”

“I work at the diner. But,” he sidles up to her, “If you’re so concerned about my funds, then maybe give me a hint? This can all be over quicker if you’re so eager to get rid of me.”

The shit-eating grin on his face makes her roll her eyes. This boy...

"I guess..." Julie debates internally, "I guess you can cross small flowers off," she ends up admitting.

"Ha!" he jumps, "I was right!”

“Still not the right flower though,” she reminds him.

“Nah that's a victory for today and I'll take it,"

She shakes her head at him, "You’re ridiculous,"

“See you next week then?”

"Oh my god, Julie goes ahead and embarks on her bike, “More business for us, then. Be seeing you, Patterson.”

She rides down the street is about to turn the corner when she hears faint yelling from behind her.

"Your voice does sell more flowers!"

Stopping by the neighbors yard and looks back, "What?”

It’s Luke, standing in the driveway still. He cups his hands and shouts, “I was right!”

“What?” she answers back.

Now that does it. And she breaks out into a laugh, throwing her head back as she does. Luke Patterson- what a clown.

Julie promptly bikes away, and when she returns to the store, Tía clocks her smile immediately and asks about their favorite customer.

“An idiot, as always,” Julie reports back.

A cute idiot.

Tía hums something Julie couldn’t comprehend. Then she returns to pruning the flowers. Julie helps her.

“Well... whoever that young man is. He must have a really special girl in his life. To be ordering this many flowers.”

“Yeah... I guess,” Julie agrees, absentmindedly, focusing more on the task at hand.

“And I hope that girl knows just how special she is too,”

“Yeah- wait. Huh?”

Julie doesn’t get anymore out of her aunt that day, just knowing glances as if she’s meant to be in on this inside joke, but she isn’t.

Oh well.

And when she spots Luke the next day at school, he breezes past her, smiling, hints of floral scents radiating from his person. Much like how the shop would smell.

“Mornin’, Flower Girl,” he greets, tipping an imaginary hat her way.

“Morning, Diner Boy,” she shoots back, taking satisfaction from how thrown off Luke looks by her response.

He recovers and shoots her a wink, “Touchè”

Hey! If he knew what her job was, then she should too. And use it to her advantage. Maybe go to his work and tease him there, pester him about his favorite order, maybe and not be a passive player in this game they have.

Now wouldn’t that be a fun idea...

Tagging: @blush-and-books @lydias--stiles @thedeathdeelers @ruzek-halstead @pink-flame, @ourstarscollided, @nottheleastbrave, @echocharm17618 @smolfangirl @garc-i-a @simp-for-julie-molina @teenagepeanutbird @ifitsallyoudo @fandomscraziness22 @writerownstory @heademptynothoughts @writeineveryemptyspace

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #happy anniversary!#jatp anniversary #juke #jatp drabble #flower delivery girl! Julie #mention of Diner!Luke #julie x luke #luke x julie

75 notes · View notes