#ill just have to grit my teeth and try to ignore everything i dont like but everyone else loves like always
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ganondoodle · 1 year ago
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as cool as their design is im really starting to dislike the sonau in general, aside from their stuff suddendly being everywhere and everything being about them and how cool(tm) they are now with the mystery stone turning people into dragons and the similarities between the sonau and the three dragons (naydra, eldra, farodra) its actually not an impossibility that they used to be sonaus as alot of people have been theorizing about ..but ...... idk that would very much ruin their otherwordly yet ethereal mystery to me
i probably sound like some hater whos trying to find something more to dislike about totk all the time but i promise im not!!
the three dragons being some unexplained mystery, beings that are there yet few can see them, timeless, nigh untouchable, they dont act on anything, they dont talk, something about them has always made me look at them in awe; if it turned out they were just yet another cool(tm) sonau guy that ate a stone ... :/
not a fan of that one lads, but dont worry, i will keep my thoughts to myself from now on, i dont want to ruin other peoples fun nor seem like i just hate everything ... the three dragons are just really important to me so i had to say something
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walnutcookie · 4 days ago
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whats your opinion on glisten and toodles’ dynamic?
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i love them so much. oh my god . That one pic of glisten doign her makeup that goes eith their in-game dialogue drives me INSANE ....
i think that toodles really really adores glisten, she thinks hes super fun to hang out with :] but like obviously shes a bit oblivious to all of his issues LOL . i think she knows that he isnt as perfect as he says he is but its still a bit confusing for her to understand, especially considering what she knows from rodger. like augh okay i need to elaborate in another post i havent rlly talked about it yet but shes the only one that rodgers comfortable being himself around which means that toodles knows EVERYTHING. im sure she can make the connection between rodger and glisten but i dont think she would really know what to do with it... shes confused about how glisten acts when shes heard him cry about some stuff, she wants to help but she really doesnt know how. none of her efforts to make rodger feel better ever work so shes kind of clueless on how to cheer glisten up too, which makes her feel pretty useless. glisten seems to be happy when she hangs out with him though so if that makes him happy she'll make sure to keep him company :)
i think glisten does genuinely love toodles its just that his patience can grow a liiittle thin at times. He knows toodles is a kid so shes gonna be a little more blunt which Scares him and i think he can get annoyed with her at times but he knows that she isnt trying to hurt him or anything so he just tries to ignore all of that ,, still hard to keep himself from getting frustrated or upset but i dont think hed like lash out at her itd be more saying kind things through gritted teeth. Nevertheless he tries to include her as much as he can because he knows that she feels left out from a lot of the other toons being so young,,, its not that he hates or even dislikes her he just doesnt always have the capacity to talk with a kid GSVHDBFJD i also think that hes confused as hell about the stuff that she says about rodger because a lot of it seems too weird to be true (cough again ill talk about it more in another post) but then again theres little tidbits she'll spill that hes delighted to tease him about. oh? oh rodger? oh toodles says youre TICKLISH? how silly...
THANK U SO MUCH FOR THE ASK BTW i rlly rlly appreciate it 🥹
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latetaektalk · 4 years ago
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deep end | myg
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“yoongi was bad for you, was only going to hurt you, but you just could never get enough of him, never resist him.”
genre: fuckboy! au, angst, fluff, sexual themes
pairing: yoongi x female reader
word count: 2.283
warnings: cursing, sexual themes, making out, yoongi is a little shit
playlist: august - taylor swift
a/n: yes, this was absolutely inspired by the song august by taylor swift. honestly, i dont know what this is, but yeah. maybe ill turn this into a small drabble series because this is definitely not the end lol
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August
“Your friends must hate me,” Yoongi whispered between kisses, his words almost lost between your lips.
“They don’t.” You didn’t know why you lied, why you tried to convince Yoongi otherwise when both of you knew better. You shimmed around in his lap, your hands fiddling with his leather jacket in a desperate attempt to get more of him, have him even closer.
“Yeah?” Yoongi laughed but didn’t stop kissing you, his hands wandering down your back, inching you closer to him. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” You rolled your eyes when he laughed again, interrupting the kiss you had been about to press against his lips. “Fine, maybe they’re not crazy about you.”
“Does that bother you?” Yoongi asked and you shivered when he snuck his cold hands underneath your shirt, pulling it out of your skirt like you weren't sitting in the front seat of his rusty and terribly old car and anybody could walk past and see you two.
You looked at him because it did bother you. Of course, it did. They were still your friends and you cared about what they thought of you and the choices you made. At the same time, you knew that deep down it didn’t matter too much, didn’t matter too much because in the end, you were the one playing this game with him, this game of cat and mouse, this game of supposed meaningless and unattached sex.
It didn’t matter too much because in the end, you got to have Yoongi.
And that made everything worth it, the moment you had him.
“No.” 
You pressed your lips to his again and squeezed your eyes shut, your hands wandering down to his belt in an attempt to get him to drop the topic, but Yoongi just always loved pushing your limits, seeing where that got him.
“You’re a bad liar, baby.” 
You almost froze, almost stopped fiddling with his belt, a flush creeping up to your cheeks. His words were like daggers to your heart. Truths you didn’t want to hear, refused to hear.
“You-”
You abandoned his belt, giving up on trying to figure it out because clearly that wasn’t working, and cut him off by slamming your lips against his. You started working on his leather jacket again, desperate to get it off, but somehow, you ended up being the one with only your skirt and bra on, your legs growing tired and numb from straddling him. 
“I like that though,” Yoongi hummed against your skin as he started leaving wet kisses against your neck.
“What?” you breathed, mind starting to cloud and making it hard for you to focus. You pulled your head back and let your eyes flutter shut, his lips leaving you weak in your knees and everywhere else.
Yoongi stayed at that one spot he knew that always had you melting in his hands, nibbling on your neck the way he knew you enjoyed, turned you putty, weak. 
“I like that you’re a bad liar, baby.”
You ran your hands through your hair and hated how shallow and laboured your breathing was.
“Shut- fuck,” Yoongi bit down on your skin, making you squirm and curse. You tried again, through gritted teeth, “Fucking shut up.”
You felt Yoongi smirk against your skin the way he always did when he was satisfied with himself, proud that he had managed to push your buttons.
“Just because it’s you.”
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You were in the middle of typing up a text when Jennie decided to throw a pillow at you, forcing your phone out of your grasp and the air out of your lungs.
“Ow, what the fuck?” You rubbed your head where the pillow had hit you and sent Jennie a glare. "What was that for?" 
"You're not listening," she hissed and you removed a piece of lint stuck to your jeans.
"Tell me you're not texting dickhead again," Jisoo said and you cringed when you looked at her and saw the half-chewed up chips in her mouth. 
“Stop talking when you’re eating, Ji,” you groaned and held up your hand to block her out of your view. “It’s gross.”
“Grosser than Yoongi?” Jisoo countered and you took the pillow Jennie had thrown at you and chugged it at Jisoo. Unlike you though, she caught it and simply used it to support her head. 
“So, were you? Texting dickhead, I mean,” Jennie asked and swivelled around in your squeaky office chair that used to belong to your brother. She fixed you with the look she knew you hated because it always made you turn away. “Jesus.”
“What? What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked and clutched your phone tightly to your chest because you weren’t sure if Jennie would get up and take it out of your hands. You wouldn’t put it past her. She had done it before.
“Why?” Jennie groaned, ignoring your question. “Why do you keep doing this to you? He fucking sucks! He’s a goddamn fuckboy who’s only gonna use you for sex and drop you the moment some new girl comes around.”
You pursed your lips and pressed through gritted teeth, “It’s not like that. He’s not like-”
“He is like that,” Jennie cut in and shook her head at you. “How many times do we have to tell you to get it, Y/N? He’s no good! You’re just another girl to him. A notch in his stupid fuckboy belt.”
Your hands tightened into fists, so much so that your knuckles started turning white. It was painful, but not worse than Jennie’s words.
You turned to Jisoo. She gave you a much more sympathetic look, but you could see in her eyes that she thought the same way as Jennie. A fact that made you groan and roll your eyes.
“Look, I’m not saying all of that to be mean, babe,” Jennie sighed and you could still hear the irritation dripping from her voice. She tried to be soft and nice, but she couldn’t hide her true feelings. “I-”
“We just don’t want you to get hurt, Y/N,” Jisoo jumped in when Jennie couldn’t finish her sentence and you screwed your eyes shut before letting yourself fall back, the mattress giving in underneath your weight.
“Yeah, we don’t,” Jennie said and got up from your chair, the squeaking making you scrunch up your face. She moved over to you and you felt the mattress dip when she got on it.
“You’ve gotta protect yourself, babe,” Jennie started again and touched your knee, squeezing it like that would help convince you.
“Yeah, you’ve gotta protect yourself,” Jisoo echoed and paused to shift closer to you, her arm wrapping around your middle to pull you into a hug you didn’t reciprocate. “People like Yoongi… they’re never good.”
You could smell the chips on her breath and you wanted to crinkle your nose.
“It’s stupid to get involved with people like Yoongi.”
Slowly, you opened your eyes and when you did, Jisoo offered you a smile, a smile that was meant to cheer you up, but it only made you press your lips together and turn away to look at Jennie. When you did though, she was offering you the same kind of smile and you settled on staring at the ceiling.
All three of you fell into silence and was only interrupted once when Jennie decided to lay down with you and wrap her arm around you as well. After a moment and some thinking, you put your arms around Jennie and Jisoo.
You just lay there, in thought. It was a peaceful moment, a moment you only shared every now and then. A moment you enjoyed despite the minutes before it.
It was all nice until your phone started buzzing violently in your hand and drew everybody’s attention to it. You lifted it to see who it was. Almost instantly, your heart skipped a beat.
Yoongi.
“Don’t,” Jennie warned and sat up when you did. You looked between her and your phone. Yoongi had never called you before, and quite frankly, you didn’t know how to react.
“Y/N, just ignore it,” Jisoo chimed in from behind you and you stared at your phone in your hand, still buzzing like it was a bomb about to explode.
“Y/N, don’t-”
“I’m sorry.”
You picked up the call before Jennie could reach for your phone and decline it. You winced when she let out a long breath through her nose and cursed underneath your breath, but before you could beg her to just understand and that Yoongi and you weren’t that easy, he spoke,
“Meet me behind the mall.”
You blinked and scratched the back of your head, confused.
“Hang up, Y/N,” Jennie hissed underneath her breath and you turned away from her, but she started reaching for your phone, forcing you to stand up and put some distance between you two.
“What?” you said and had to fight to keep your voice steady because Jennie had resorted back to throwing pillows at you.
“You read my text, right?” Yoongi said and you knew he was in his car, the faint humming of the motor so ingrained in you after hours spent in his car, you could always recognise it.
“Yeah, I did,” you said and raised your arm just in time to block the next pillow Jennie threw at you. 
“You started typing, but stopped,” Yoongi continued and said it like you wouldn’t know that.
“For god’s sake, Y/N, hang up,” Jennie hissed and grabbed another pillow.
“Yeah, I did,” you repeated, ignoring her completely as you walked into your adjacent bathroom and closed as well as locked the door behind you before she could throw the pillow at you.
“I asked you if you wanted to go out,” Yoongi said and you slid down the door, pulling your knees close to your chest.
“Yeah, you did,” you said and Yoongi laughed.
“Are those three words the only words you know?” he asked and you chuckled, shaking your head as if he could see you.
“No, I can say more,” you mumbled and you knew a smile was on Yoongi’s lips now. You pressed your phone closer to your ear.
“So,” Yoongi started and you bit on your lip, waiting for him to continue. It took him longer than usual, but there was no wavering in his voice when he did finally speak, “Meet me behind the mall.”
You felt a flush creep up your neck and you had to take a moment to make sure your breathing wasn’t too laboured and your voice too high.
“Is that,” the words still came out shaky, “is that a question or a demand?”
“Whatever you want it to be.”
Your heart practically leaped out of your chest and you were certain, he knew. He knew what his words did to you, what he did to you.
“I’m in front of your dorm.”
“Fuck,” you cursed underneath your breath and tipped back your head, screwing your eyes shut.
“You want me to go?” Yoongi teased.
“No, no,” you said quickly and shook your head, your teeth sinking deeper into your lip. “Don’t go.”
Yoongi hummed and it was scary how perfectly you could picture him right now, the corners of his lips curled up into that familiar smirk, that mischievous glint in his eyes as he stared out the window, waiting for you to come out and jump inside his rusty and terribly old car, his tongue digging around in his cheek with his phone lazily pressed against his ear, the usual leather jacket covering his upper half.
God, you were fucked.
“Then, come out.”
Yoongi hung up and you dropped your head to your chest, cursing internally at him. You stayed on the floor for a handful of seconds before you straightened up and shoved your phone into your pocket.
You opened the door to your bathroom with a heavy sigh, ready to get another pillow thrown at you. So when one did hit you square in the face, you barely flinched, closing and opening your eyes just to see a more than irritated Jennie standing in the middle of your tiny bedroom with her hands on her hip.
Wordlessly, you picked up the pillow and tossed it back onto your bed where Jisoo was still lying in, back to eating her chips.
“I can’t with you, Y/N,” Jennie said with a shake of her head and an audible exhale through her nose. She knew.
You pressed the tip of your tongue to the roof of your mouth and looked at the floor. You wanted to say something, explain to Jennie that Yoongi… he had power over you. He had you in his grip, and it was tight, almost too tight. But you liked that, you liked that because he made you feel things and ways you had never before. It was exciting, thrilling, addicting.
Yoongi was exciting, thrilling, addicting.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled quietly and rubbed your nose with your hand.
“Just go,” Jennie sighed, sounding so defeated that you had to lift your head and look at her. You couldn’t read her face. A mix of disappointment and irritation was etched into her features, but you weren’t sure who she was disappointed in and irritated by. With you? With Yoongi? With herself maybe? With Jisoo because she didn’t come to back her up much?
“You’re stupid, Y/N,” Jisoo told you at the front door. Jennie had stayed in your bedroom, probably still too angry to see you go.
You walked out.
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zuffer-weird-girl · 4 years ago
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You want a chubby Kai hurt/comfort ask? Alright chubby Kai feels that he doesn’t look good enough to be with angel because Angel has this one handsome friend so Angel asks him what’s wrong
"For God's sake..." he grumbled as he was having a battle against the buttons of his shirt, trying to close his attire to just start the day for once.
"Need any help love?" You giggled from the bathroom as hos golden orbs narrowed before sighing and rolling his eyes. Giving uo on the dress shirt and hoing for anothe rone on his closet instead.
He would be lying if he blame it on you for his gain weight but was not entirely wrong about the issue as well. He had spacked off on his aleating habbits a bit over the past year, still remaining eating healthy things like always but increasing his appetite with some... appetitiziers you had suggested.
"Hey dont get mad at me!" You cooed as he huffed a annoyed sigh, buttoning up his shirt before he tensed at your warm embrace from behind while nuzzling on his shoulders blades.
"Enough." His hands brushed you off but you smiled instead of being offended. Knowing that even despite the years of dating, your boyfriend wasn't one used to touch neither be touched... but the tips of his ears getting all red over a simple kiss on his back and hug told you everything that he packed off on saying.
"Geez, grumpy today aren't we?" You pouted as he fixed his shirt and put on his jacket.
"If you stop commenting about my humor dearest I will take you out to that place you wanted badly." He flinched at your excited and surprised gasp before receiving a kiss on his covered cheek as you printed off to get your things as he scoffed, gloved fingers brushing against the area where your lips had been.
.
.
.
"There's that stand of crepes over there!" You tugged on his jacket as he deadpanned at you.
"If I remember correctly you saw the issue with my prwvious shirt this morning didn't you?" He arched one of his eyebrows up as you pouted.
"Is just a shirt Kai! Come on!!" You looked at him with puppy eyes "Is not every day we get one pleasee??"
That damn look of yours was gonna be the death of him...
Sighing and hating himself at already feeling aome sorta of craving for the sweet, he picked his wallet on his pocket as you squealed happily.
No one could tell by looking at his eyes that he was actually happy... seing your face brighten up like that just because of a simple sweet that HE bought to you was slightly... like a warm feeling inside his chest.
He could simply overhaul someone or his commurates that joked that he had grew "soft" on both ways because of you... but he couldn't deny it either.
"Which one will you get?" You asoed with a smile as he handed the cash and soon got his napkin put to rub his gloved hands.
"None. You asked for it, so only you get one." He eyed your pouty lips as he sighed, rubbing your cheek affectionaly, a rare sign of affection from him "Stop with that face. Im fine."
The man handed the sweet to you as he walked a bit away, waiting for you to catch up with him until he noticed you talking excitedly with another male.
His eyes immediately narrowed at the sign but before he could actually just pry you off and kill the young male he notices something... the guy had a fair share of muscles, much more than he jad before gaining weight. He was constantly speaking with a bright smile on his face as he stood way too close to his liking near you.
You... actually looked like a coupke from afar.
His teeth gritted as his hands tightened into fits... remenbering that for a long time now he couldn't even see himself in the freacking mirror anymore. Not only he had an illness but also was disgusting on appearance as well?
Constantly he got intrusive thoughts that you should have someone better. A man that could bare to have you clinged onto him qithout getting tense over it, a guy who actually took you out on dates constantly and also didn't got you in danger like he did... someone with better appearance...
"Kai?" His thoughts were interrupted when he heard your voice, looking at him with some sorta of worry "You're standing there for a while now... didn't even came when I called you to meet my friend."
He stayes quiet.. bored look locked with yours as he merely sighed, started to walk and waved at you.
"I have other places to be with. Need to finish a job Pops assigned to me."
"Oh.." you muttered, dissapointed present on yoir voice at only heating he was going to be busy for the rest of the day "Then maybe on the evening we-"
"Dont wait up. I might only be free by night time." He eued you for a bit before sighing and looking ahead of him "Dont bother with it."
"I see.." you muttered, his heart clenching at seing you, once so cheerful now just looking like a cloud was over your head...
Yet he decided to ignore.
.
.
.
He couldn't even concetrate on his work anymore... evertime he got closer to qrite or sign somwtjing he could feel his stomach double over as the movement made his ahirt and pants feel tigher than before.
"Fucking fat ass." He growled in anger as he signed with more forece than necessary a paper and almost threw it on some pile before heating some knocks "Say your name and bussines."
"Hi." You cooed, showing aprehensively your face on the door as he arched an eyebrow at your presence.
"I recalled you had other places to be qith at this time?" He said while looking at the clock stuck on the wall as you aproached his desk with a cup.
"Yeah, but it got cancelled... So-!" You put the warm cup on his desk "I thought maybe a treat could bright up the day of my handsome boyfriend."
He scoffed at that word... "handsome"... sure, as if he could be now in the state he is in.
"What is this?" He looked down at the cup and saw a white cloud with bits of caramel on top of it.
"A frappuccino!" You skiled brightly "I saw it on the menu of a cafeteria and I thought you might like it."
His eyes soften at your gesture but still he was adamant on just even breathing near that thing... it looked like one gulp of that he could gain at least 100 pounds...
"I appreciate your gesture, but Im curring all the sugary things for now." He scoffed while pushing the drink back to you before turning to get on his laptop.
The hurt you felt wasn't what bothered you but what Chisaki has been doing all day... Getting away from you like you were the plague and everything eatible at this point.
"Ok. I know how much you hate when I get like this, but what the hell is going on?" Your words seemes to stop Chisaki right when he was about to write something as he looked at you with only one narrowed eye...
"I beg you pardon?"
"Kai you cant say to me that you dont like caramel anymore! You hadn't eat nothing but a freacking apple all day and been avoiding me as well!" You exclaimed qith open arms, lowering them as well as your gaze, feeling your vision burn a bit at the feeling of tears forming "Did... did I do something..?"
A sigh once again escaped his lips, gloved fingers brushing over his darkbrow looks as he thought over his next words... Lying would get him no where and he absolietly hated the aspect of it...
Getting up he walked over you. His fingers picking on your chin and tilting it up to meet his eyes.
"You did nothing. Its only a problem of mine."
"So what is it?" You put your bottom lip out as your eyebrows furrowed. The sign of it made his own furrow deep as his jaw tighten.
"... I.." he sighed, seeing that you wouldn't back off until you knew exactly what was going on "The incident with the shirt and that encounter you had quth your friend just.. Made me think that I fallen out of shape... If I dont stop with this nonsense I might look like that filthy hero fatgum or worse... I wouldn't want you to have shame while walking besides me anyway."
It was so quiet after he finished his rants he swore he could hear his hearbeat on your ears as he waited anxiously for some sorta of response to him. Anything. Really.
"... all this because you gained a couple of pounds?" Ypu finally asked as he gritted his teeth, only to widenhis eyes at the few giggles that escaped your mouth "S-Seriously?"
"You little br-" before he could finish it yoh had pulles his mask down to kiss his lips. The shock was evident on his eyes and his body was tense and arms awkwardly hanging in the air until finally he eased uo and holdee your waist while finally kissing you back.
"You should know by now.." you panted after the kiss ended "That no matter the size or shape, I love you. Just like you dont care a bit if I gained or lost weight you love me to no ends..." you cupped his cheek as he could only stare deep i to your eyes. Someyhing you didn't know, it was that he was looking at you with so much love and adoration that even hurted.
"So that friend of yours you dont have any interest?" He carresed your hips with his thumb as you shook your head with a smile, rubbing noses against eachother.
"Nope."
"Perfect. One less sick in this world." He smirked at your gasp and call of his name in desperation, but you stoll remained glued to him.
The moment he could describe as it almost perfect if it wasn't for some intruder.
"Hey fatass we got a problem down and you need to get there." He only arched an eyebrow at Rappa but soon felt the dark airea coming out of you as you stared at Rappa with rage.
"Kai.. my beautiful man. Would you mind if I take someyhing of your office for just a bit?" He eyed you suspociouslu but nodded.
His eyes widened when you grabbed the sword Pops gave to him years ago and chased after Rappa screaming obscenities that he never thought he would have heard it from you. Especially from you.
He stared a bit astonished at where you left only to notice the drink you had brought to him. Taking into his hand he took a tentative sip before sighing in bliss.
"Sweet.."
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ahs-requests · 5 years ago
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Libertine (Michael Langdon x fem reader)
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Summary: Michael has taken an obsessive liking to you since he’s entered the Outpost. You’re the only girl he can see himself bringing back to the Sanctuary and helping him rebuild the world, but you’re a bit more defiant than he expected.
Warnings: DUB/CON, dirty talk, daddy kink, rough sex, choking, humiliation, spitting.
WC: 2.4k
A/N: just a lil one shot to switch things up - this is more of my ‘tortured artist’ work lmao i dont think its as sexy as the other things ive posted since is has a pretty non-conish overtone but i thought id try something new.
~~~~
Mallory leans over the keyboard in the library, performing each request you suggest to her and revelling in every moment. The two of you reserve classical music for singularly cruel days. Between Venable’s ceaseless perusal and Langdon’s sudden persistence with you, you’ve grown ill. Mallory begins hitting the keys to play your favourite classical song, an upbeat hopeful tune that reminds you of early childhood. You stop her. “Moonlight Sonata,” you tell her, “I’m feeling… dark.”
Mallory eyes you up and down, staring at your gray uniform as you recline onto the grand piano. You can detect her empathetic expression, the way her eyes fall and lips curve into a frown. She knows the only way to aid your vicious mood drop is playing your favourite songs. So, without question, she begins playing the somber, ominous keys.
You lean your head against the piano, hearing each key tick to create a beautiful song. You’re startled by the clicking of dress shoes along the opulent, polished floors. “Y/n,” the calm voice addresses, “Mallory.” The two of you stop enjoying the music and stare at Langdon. He’s dressed head to toe in elegant, formfitting black clothes, his hands behind his back. “Please, don’t let me interrupt. It sounded beautiful.”
You and Mallory exchange a glance. You should’ve foreseen this; Langdon hasn’t been able to leave you alone these past few days. He perpetually sits back to watch you clean, engages you in eerie, bone chilling conversations, and even started the habit of watching you sleep. Mallory apprehensively starts playing the song again, timidly botching a few keys. “I’ll take care of him,” you sigh.
You propel yourself off of the piano and stride towards Langdon. He doesn’t say a word to you, he just stares with careless bedroom eyes. “Any particular reason you were in my room last night?” you keep your voice low.
He passively shrugs. “I like to watch you sleep. Your innocence is… arousing,” he admits with a facetious grin.
You clear your throat, disguising your anger. You don’t want Mallory to find out about Langdon’s abnormal obsession with you, she hates him enough as is. “Innocence?” you whisper. “You don’t even fucking know who I am.”
“Au contraire,” he responds, leaning his shoulder against the wall. You obstinately cross your arms over your chest as he speaks. “I’ve pried through your memories, felt the emotions you bury deep down inside of you, and hear the thoughts you so desperately keep hidden in your subconscious. Darling, I know you better than you know yourself.”
“Bullshit,” you spit, the words passing your lips with pent up aggression. “You don’t know a thing.”
“I know everything,” he snaps, slicing your attitude with his bellicose tone. “I know that you’re wickedly turned on right now. You can’t admit to yourself that being degraded by me is one of your deepest, darkest fantasies because it’ll make you feel like a miserable little harlot.” You’re taken aback by the brutality to his delivery. “I’ve seen you in my mind,” he whispers, “heaving chest and raisoned fingers, touching yourself to the thought of me choking the life out of those glossy, perplexed eyes.”
You feel tears welling, burning in your eyes from humiliation. Although nobody can hear the two of you, those thoughts were private. They were yours. Langdon simulates a reality in which he owns you completely, like you’re his fictious little plaything. You feel your blood boiling; you’re sick of it, you’re sick of him. “Fuck you,” you say through gritted teeth.
“You will in due time,” he mocks.
You hike up your hand, preparing to smack him flush across the face and wipe the pompous smirk right from his lips, but he grabs a hold of your wrist. “Just leave me the fuck alone,” your voice shakes.
He squeezes your wrist tighter. “Mouthy girl. You know I could never stand for that mistreatment in my new world.”
You struggle to escape his rigid grip, but fail at your short attempts. “I’ll never be a part of your new world,” you growl, weakly spitting in his face.
He shuts his eyes when you spit on him, then calmly opens them. Slowly using his free hand to wipe away the white spit that slipped down his cheek. His composure is unnerving, almost like he’s about to twitch a finger and snap your neck in a matter of seconds. Even if he is pondering over that thought, your ego is much too large now to surrender an apology. “Mallory,” he calls, not breaking eye contact with you. His head cocks to the side. “Leave us. Now.”
Mallory stops playing and rises from her seat. “What are you going to do to her?” she asks from across the room.
Langdon finally turns his head over to Mallory, jaw clenched in irritation. “Go or I’ll make sure Venable has your head on a fucking stick by sunrise,” he seethes. His nostrils flare and his eyes narrow on her. If looks could kill…
You don’t look in her direction, you can’t take your eyes off of Langdon. He’s impossible to deal with, his conviction is exasperating and his tenacity is tedious, but he is the most gorgeous person you’ve ever had the pleasure to lay your eyes on.
Mallory’s footsteps quickly pace out of the room. Your heart drops, partly from having your friend leave you alone with Langdon, but mostly because the classical music soothed you in such a dreadful circumstance. “I can provide classical music,” he responds to your thoughts. Langdon flicks his finger towards the radio, and you jump in your spot as Beethoven’s seventh symphony commences.
You feel your body trembling in fear. Langdon always seemed like an overly ambitious, domineering asshole, but he has never shown off his much-gossiped supernatural ability. “What kind of monster are you?” your voice wavers in fear.
He raises a hand and you jump again, but brings the feeble fist to your face and grazes your cheeks softly with the backs of his fingers, the metal of his rings are cool against your skin. You blink out a fleeting tear and he wipes it away, still gripping your wrist hard enough to cut blood flow. “Don’t worry,” he whispers, “I’d never hurt you.”
He leans down and gives your lips a small kiss, guiding your chin closer to him to deepen his kisses. You take a moment to kiss him back, but once you do, he accepts this as admission to devour you whole. He walks you backwards until your back is pressed against the piano. Then lifts up your dress, his greedy fingers find your clit and your eyes grow hazy, still trying to grasp the situation. He pulls down your panties and spits on your cunt.
He rubs the spit into your core and you let out a light whimper. Maybe it’s the fear adopting your body, but you relax as he continues undressing you. Langdon throws the pieces to your uniform aside until you’re completely naked. You’re dazed by him, almost like he’s drugged you, and now all of his advances seem palatable.
Langdon towers over you, unbuckling his belt and pulling down his pants. You can already see how hard he is from the outline of his cock in his briefs. He spins you around and shoves you into the piano, your hips sock the hard wood and he pushes you down, lifting your ass for his consumption. He pries open your legs and you feel his dick press against you. Teasing by running up and down your folds. “You made this so easy for me, my love,” he croons. “Your pretty cunt is just begging for my cock now.”
He stretches you out, stuffing the fat head of his cock into you. You freeze as he does this, clawing at the edges of the grand piano you’re pressed against. He pushes himself deeper inside you and moans, your cunt writhes in pain. You feel your body tauten, embracing itself for another plunge. He pushes himself so deep that it feels like he rearranges your organs, you free a childish cry from your lips, a tear slips from your eye through a blink. “You may bleed, darling, but I can assure you,” he whispers and leans down, his full lips drag against the shell of your ear, “it will be electric.”
You squirm under him, now questioning whether or not you’re in over your head. Whether you are or you aren’t, Langdon is still going to use you like his personal, conceptive project. He hammers into you, growling and praising you for how tight you are. Occasionally you emancipate a moan, but it’s difficult to work past the pain. “Think of this as your baptism into the sanctuary,” he breathes, still pounding himself into your palpitating cunt. He still leans over you, speaking into your ear and creating friction between the two of your naked bodies. “We’re dirtying you up for the hellish dumpster fire of a world that we’re going to create… together.” You shudder at the thought.
The sound of his skin slapping against yours and the loud classical music echoes throughout the abandoned halls. You wish Venable would walk in and interrupt the two of you, alleviate you from the soreness already overtaking your tender cunt, but even she is too recreant to stand up to Langdon. You just have to lay down and accept it.
You feel your body resisting him, but he ignores the obvious signs. Only burrowing himself into you harder when your tight hole tries to reject him. He grabs onto your torso, pushing you against him and feeling his warm skin against your back. It almost reminds you of how you’d feel with a husband, a boyfriend, or simply a lover, but you question if Langdon could even claim that title.
His hands, once gently caressing you, now holds both of your wrists behind your back. Now you surely suspect both of your wrists to develop bruises. “It’ll get easier each day, kitten,” he assures you. His cock pounds your cervix as he speaks, you can’t bring yourself to respond. He uses a free hand to wipe away your tears.
He pulls himself out of you and both of you sigh, presumably for different reasons. “Mr. Langdon,” you say breathlessly, “this is a little excessive.” He laughs bitterly and begins positioning himself for re-entry. “Please,” you cry, not daring to change your position, “I don’t know how much more I can take.” Your breath fogs up the burnished wood.
“Well then, shouldn’t we figure that out?” his voice is as sweet as honey before he pummels himself into you again. You yelp from the unexpected intrusion. Your nails dig into your skin as he still holds a tight grip on your wrists with one of his large hands.
He pulls back your wrists so you stand up against him, your back pressed to his sturdy chest. His unoccupied hand sluggishly rubs your clit in circles and he kisses your neck, biting down on your skin and sucking until leaving a pale purple mark. You throw your head back, leaning it against his shoulder blade and he continues stroking you. His cock so deep inside of you that every movement feels lethal. You wiggle around, trying to find a position more suitable, less painful, but come up empty.
He breathes out a vacillating sigh. “You like how daddy stretches your tight little cunt?” he asks. He pushes himself balls deep and you cry, dropping your head into the crook of his neck. “Your pretty pussy swallows daddy up so well… mmm, you’re such a fucking mess for me right now.”
“You’re too big,” you whine into his burning hot skin.
He breathes out a sinister laugh, as if insulting your inability to endure his rough jabs. His hand careens up your body, glazing over your hard nipples and wrapping around your neck, squeezing tighter with each thrust.
“This is what you wanted, right?” he asks. He squeezes harder, arresting your windpipe and cutting your breath. “To honour me with watching the life drain from your eyes as I fuck your tight hole?” Langdon stiffens his grip on both your wrists and your throat. More tears pour out of your eyes as he slams himself into you. “Pretty, pretty baby, dying by my very hand,” he jeers.
He spits down on your face, that must be turning red from the lack of air supply. Your lips part to beg him to stop, beg him for your life, but all that comes out is a short squeak that’s drowned out by the music. He spits on you again; it runs down your cheek and into your parted lips. He clutches tighter and tighter until your vision becomes foggy, then he lets go.
You hunch forward to collect your breath, still feeling the imprint of where his fingers restrained your throat. You try to wiggle your hands free to touch your neck, but he doesn’t allow you to move. Langdon throws his arm over your chest and presses you against him again, kissing your neck sloppily. You can’t keep up with his undulate sensuality… but of course, none of this was sensual.
His thrusts slow down but he pounds into you harder than before. Each of his breaths turn rugged as he groans against your skin marked in goosebumps. He thrusts one, two, three more times until you feel him release inside of you. Each thrust feels like it shatters your bones. He hauls himself out of you and you drop against the piano again. You feel his seed leaking out of your stretched hole as he finally releases your bound wrists.
He picks you up by grabbing your shoulders and spinning you around, although you’re essentially ragdolling at this point. He runs his tongue up your cheek until your eye, licking up the tears that have fallen while being fucked senseless. Then he kisses you, gently, almost lovingly. “You’re so pretty,” he whispers, “we’re going to rule this fucking world, baby.”
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Bearable | A Reddie Fanfiction
Read it from the beginning
Chapter 5
Weak, cold, autumn light seeped in through drawn curtains, accompanied by the sporadic brrrrrringing of an alarm. The sound split the morning silence, tearing Eddie from his sleep, echoing through the entirety of the house more effectively than it was meant to. Eddie let out a groan, trying to reach out a hand and silence the mechanic screaming but just not being able to reach it- frustration sparked inside of his stomach for just a quick moment, and then someone else's hand came down onto the machine, cutting it off mid-ring.
"You set your alarm late," It was Stan, and, not really a surprise, he was already entirely prepared for the day, "Hurry and get up. I'll go make sure Bill is awake. Water is boiled on the stove and I made eggs, too." Stanley was dressed in a pair of bluejeans, as well as a knitted blue sweater he'd loved and worn for the last three years. His hair was styled into it's chaotic, curly perfection, swept gently to one side- he was smiling, a morning person, bright and ready for the day even though it was hardly 7:00 am. Eddie envied that constant 'ready-to-go' attitude Stan faced each new day with, when he- Eddie- had to will himself out of bed every time he opened his eyes.
"Thanks," He mumbled as Stan left the room, sitting up with a sigh and scrubbing his hands over his face to shake the sleep away. Eddie's jaws stretched wide in a yawn, and then he forced himself to abandon the comfortable warmth of his bed and crawl from under the covers. The air around him had a biting chill, the remaining after-effect of the rain that had been coming every now and again since Saturday, sending goosebumps breaking out over Eddie's skin as he made his way to his drawers, pulling open the topmost one to dig out a shirt. Settling on something simple enough, he pulled out a dark grey long-sleeved tee reading 'Back Pages' in bold white lettering and then 'Used Books and More' right underneath, in smaller print- Back Pages had been an- obviously- used bookstore from back in Derry, one of the only places his mother was actually moderately okay with him visiting. Along with the shirt Eddie pulled out brown pants and some miscellaneous belt, throwing the outfit together and running a comb quickly through his hair to tame the unruly bedhead.
"E-Eddie?" Bill's voice came from outside his door, probably in the kitchen, still thick with sleep, "Do you wuh-want tea? Coffee?" Eddie continued around his room, stumbling through the semi-darkness, shouting back his reply,
"Do you know where my chamomile is? Do we have honey?" Eddie grabbed his phone, head tilted towards the door as he waited for Bill's reply- at last, he heard something akin to an 'okay', but more of a grumble than that. With one last glance in the mirror and a silent 'you can do this, Eddie' that was meant to pep him up, he jammed his phone into his pocket and swiped his backpack from where it had been set by the vanity. Grabbing the doorknob and pulling the door right open, Eddie stepped out and hurried across the hall to the kitchen. "My tea?" He asked right away, his gaze darting between Stan, and then Bill, both seated at the small dining table in the far corner- a tall, open window sat behind them- the sky outside was dull and grey with the promise of yet more rain.
"Yeah," Stan nodded, motioning towards the counter right to Eddie's left, "It's poured and ready. Come eat, and hurry- I don't want to be late."
"We won't be late, Stan, w-we've got over an hour." Bill patted Stan's back as he reassured him, partially amused by the constant anxiety and worrying Stan never seemed to stop with- though, of course, that anxiety was pointed towards more realistic things, when Eddie's own anxiety was, in his opinion, stupid and trivial and downright annoying. Eddie poured honey into his chamomile tea, sliding the rest of the scrambled eggs onto a plate, and then took a seat at the table. "Wuh-what classes do you guys have? I have English all d-day. Lit-literature and then luh-languages."
"Biology first, and then Mathematics." Eddie's eyes brightened at Stan's words.
"I have math second, too! Thank fuck- I suck at that stuff," Just as Eddie was about to continue, saying something regarding Stan and Bill's natural ability to do almost anything right, his phone beeped in his pocket and he remembered that he hadn't turned it on a single time since last night. He was quick to pull it from it's place, looking at his newest message- his brows screwed together, and he caught the skin of his cheek between his teeth, racking his brain to see if he recognized the unknown number that had texted him.
"What's wrong with you? Are the eggs bad?" Stan tilted his head, leaning in his chair to try and glance over Eddie's shoulder to catch sight of the screen of his Nokia. Eddie held it just out of sight.
"Do either of you know this number?" Rapidly, Eddie read it out, and it didn't ring any bells in either other boys brain. Bill shrugged, Stan lost interest- they both returned to their breakfast as Eddie read over the message once more. All it said was,
What ur schedule look like, penne?
It didn't make any sense. Eddie texted back and then put the phone down on the table to dig into his own food.
Who is this?
The eggs were great, as usual- Stan was one hell of a cook even though he'd only ever learned from his own personal trial and error. A light conversation was picked up again, the first topic being that of the rain. Eddie barked out a few complaints about the grey weather, how he was afraid to catch a cold and wished he had a thicker jacket and maybe rain boots, or a car, actually, yes that would be ideal. Bill said he liked the rain, Stan said he was indifferent but was enjoying the weather for what it was. Through bites of food and sips of early-morning tea, the three finished up their eggs and tossed the dishes into the sink, ready to go any minute now. Before Eddie could slip into his shoes his phone beeped again and he was quick to swipe it up and look at the response.
Come on conchiglie! U rlly dont rmmber me?
Eddie scoffed, his brows knitting together once more. Through his sleep-haze he couldn't think of a single person he knew that he didn't already have in his contacts- at least, no one that would care about his schedule. He had a few aunts and uncles that he hardly saw but they wouldn't be messaging him now of all times, he didn't think. And what the fuck was 'conchiglie'? Eddie was clueless- Big Bill, one shoe on and the other in his hands, pulled up at Eddie's side in a silent request to be shown what was so odd. Without complaint other than a sigh, Eddie shifted the phone over, and Bill scanned the texts before letting out a bark of laughter and sharing an amused glance with Stan that seemed to communicate everything.
"Oh?" Stan said with a cheeky grin, realization donning itself on his face, pressing in on Eddie's other side to read the messages for himself, "He finally texted?"
"What?" Eddie tried to ask, but he was ignored as Bill said,
"What's with the pasta names?" Eddie was way more confused now. Again, he repeated his 'what?' and again he was ignored, "Penne? Conchiglie? I don't g-get it. What an i-idiot." Oh- just like that it clicked together and Eddie's jaw dropped open. Penne, conchiglie- pasta... spaghetti... Eddie Spaghettie- Eds- Eddie- Richie.
"No, no no no no- Which one of you gave him my fucking number? What the hell?" Eddie jammed his phone into his pocket, rounding on Bill and taking in the expression on his face- it was amused, sure, but Eddie could already read the tiniest lines of innocence forming in his features. The way Bill's gaze flickered for a tenth of a second towards Stan told Eddie everything that he needed to know. "Stanley Uris what did you do?" Eddie spun to Stan, hands on his hips, glowering upwards at the much, much taller boy. Despite forcing every ounce of intimidation into his words as he could, Stan was grinning from ear to ear, sinister and ultimately unthreatened- his eyes were bright as stars and gleaming with mischief. "You know I hate that guy! He's- He's- He's so annoying! He's loud and he's rude and he's- I can't believe you!"
"Edward," Stan said in an even, polished tone, redirecting his gaze to slip on his shoes, "One of these days in the near future you'll be thanking me for getting you out in the world," Bill let out a snicker, and Eddie jammed his elbow into his ribs, silencing him effectively, "You need friends who aren't just me and Bill. Richie, Ben, Beverly, Mike- they're nice people, and you need to get out of that shell of yours."
"Oh, you're on to talk!" Eddie crossed his arms, and then uncrossed them just after to put on his shoes in a huff, "You're ten billion times more shy than I am, Stanley. I'm just fine with only you two as my friends, I don't need other people- I mean, I went 19 years of my life with no one but you two! I survived Henry fucking Bowers with just you guys to keep me safe! I don't need other people in my life." Now, Bill was cutting in and the tension in the hallway to the front door spiked upwards. Eddie realized now that the entire topic of conversation was about to change for the worse- shit, he'd let his mouth run, and now he was going to be pitied. Eddie hated pity. It made him ill.
"E-Eds, you cu-can't go your entire life with o-only me and Stan. I mean," Bill chuckled, his eyebrows slanted sympathetically, "I know we're g-great and all, but your muh-mother has kept you from having healthy social t-ties for your whole life. It's healthy to have more than o-one or two friends." The mention of his mother sent a tidal wave of homesickness propelling right over Eddie's head- a bitter, frightening, nasty homesickness- and suddenly he felt like curling up underneath his covers and crying his eyes out, but he wouldn't. He balled his hands into fists, gritted his teeth together, and turned to the door. His bag was slung over his shoulder.
"Let's go." Eddie kept his head low and pulled the door open, pushing out into the hallway and going straight for the elevator without another word. Bill didn't want to let the topic drop just yet, but a nudge and a shake of the head from Stan was enough to get him to do just that- the shake of Stan's head said let him have this one, Big Bill. It's his first day of school. Give him a break. And so, the conversation was over, to hopefully be picked up again at a later date.
-----
Richie, earbuds in, King of Rock 'N' Roll playing at full volume, burst in a flurry from his music classroom and made a beeline for the stairwell at the end of the hall. Like some agile snake or cat, he dodged and weaved between other students as they poured from their own respective classes, determined to break out into the sunlight and share his contentedness with his friends.
"Tozier! Don't run in the halls!" Some teacher scolded him, but as Prefab Sprout continued jabbing away at his eardrums he didn't hear it- and he didn't really care to hear it either- he was too busy riding the high that the schools new set of drums had given him. Ever since Richie grew so involved with the rock genre and everything alike, he had wanted to learn to play the drums but had never been given the chance until today. Now, Mr. Carr had basically had to chase Richie from the class with a broom like he was some sort of radical street rat. With his big, goofy grin Richie sent himself flying down the stairs, taking them three at a time and not even wincing at the way his knees protested with every heavy landing. The doors to the outside were within his sights as soon as he touched down onto the first floor. Still pushing past other students, not even bothering with any courteous 'pardon me's' he was at them in an instant. In time with the thudding of the music, he shoved the doors open and went, quite literally, dancing and spinning out into the warming sunlight, which had just begun to peek through the clouds. From across the large expanse of concrete just outside the doors sat an emptying bike rack, and leaning against it he spotted more than the usual quantity of familiar faces.
"Top 'o tha afternoon to ye, Haystack, sor! An' Mr. O'Hanlon, awful good!" As Richie pulled out his earbuds, music so loud it was still audible even as they dropped to hand at his side, he took a dramatic double-take and let out a loud gasp, "Well, if it isn't so!" Now, Richie was the Southern Bell rather than the Irish Cop, and he was taking Bill's hands in his and fluttering his lashes through his thick-framed glasses, "Sir Bill, and your noble companions! What have I done to be graced with your presences, my fair gentlemen?"
"You know you'll ruin your eardrums listening to your music that loud, right? You can't fix Tinnitus- and if you go deaf you'll have hearing aids for the rest of your life." Eddie gripped the straps of his backpack, his eyes flickering down to Richie'e earbuds, which were dangling dangerously close to the dirty ground- much too close for comfort. Eddie almost shuddered.
"Aw, thanks for the concern Spaghetward!" Richie let go of Bill, moving for Eddie instead, and slung his arm enthusiastically over the shorter boys shoulders. In return, as if it were instinct, Eddie let out a sound like the croak of a frog and ducked away with a grimace.
"Don't call me that, jackass!" Out of the entire group, the only one who was observant enough to note the faint red tint on Eddie's face was Mike, and he wasn't going to call the poor boy out on it.
"I see you're all getting along swell, huh?" Richie's dark gaze shifted from Ben and Mike to Bill and Stan, and then, lastly, to Eddie, where they lingered for just a second longer.
"Stan and Eddie were in math with me," Ben says with his small, kind smile, "Stan is some sort of super-genius or something- Eddie, too. I don't get it." Without missing a beat, Eddie let out an exasperated sound, shaking his head furiously.
"No, no no, don't lob me in with Stanley. He's the super-genius, I just nod my head and act like I know what he's talking about." Stan was quick to decline.
"Oh, don't say that. You're getting it."
"Hey, Bev's in working at the cafe today- are you guys interested in stopping by with me, Rich and Ben?" The next one to speak was Mike, and his offer was met with a cacophony of different replies; Ben seemed content with the idea, his smile going wider at the thought; Bill was quick to agree, and Stan was much the same, though Eddie didn't see to thrilled. He let out a sound as if he was going to speak, but then he clamped his jaw shut, mouth a straight line, and bit his tongue. Richie himself was positively ecstatic. His already bubbly mood was only amplified by this suggestion, and his grin was so bright it could blind.
"Oh, you have to come! The sun is out for once, you can't go curl up in whatever cave you're renting. Whaddaya say?" Swinging his backpack off his shoulders, Richie pulled his walkman free and clicked the 'pause' button, then proceeded to, unceremoniously, jam both it and the earbuds in his bag once more.
"I'm down," Bill said, glancing at Stan, who nodded, and then at Eddie, who shrugged curtly and stared intently at the ground below his feet.
"Great!" Zipping his bag back up and throwing it onto his shoulders, Richie moved to lead the way, and before the group knew it they were off, headed for the campus' outskirts and following their trusty guide, Richie Tozier, towards Portland Authentic. The stroll was quaint, amiable- Stan hung near the back with Mike and Bill, pointing out the different types of birds they spotted on the walk. Richie had thought every bird here in Portland was just some old rock pigeon, but now he knew that there were actually mourning doves as well. Ben was at Richie's side, hands in his pockets, his neck craned so that his face was upturned towards the sunlight. Eddie was, though reluctant, to Richie's other side, desperately trying to tune out the bird talk behind him. His annoyance was evident, but there was also a subtle fondness in his soft, brown eyes that showed how much he cared for Stan and his passions.
"Does he talk about pigeons a lot? You seem peeved." Eddie almost jumped right out of his skin at Richie's sudden words, having been totally spaced out in his desperate attempts to disassociate. Awkwardly, he lifted a hand and scratched at the back of his neck.
"Oh, uh," Eddie's gaze darted over his shoulder towards Stan, and then to Richie, and then back at his shoes, his worn black Converse sneakers, "Yeah. He loves them, but... I don't know why. They kinda-" Eddie cut himself off with a shrug, his hand dropping to his side once more, "Kinda gross, don't you think? With their weird feathers and their gross feet? All of their, like, diseases and shit?" Richie's cheeks had begun to hurt from the stretch of his smile. Something today was just making him giddy. His chest was tight with unadulterated glee, and it felt like something was pushing around in his stomach, like butterflies. Eddie was so impossibly earnest. The affection in his gaze directed at Stanley was heartwarming, the exact same kind of best-friend love that Richie had with Bev, Ben and Mike. Despite Eddie being disgusted by birds he was clearly still glad that Stan had something to be so passionate about- cute.
"I dunno," Richie said, a tilt to his head, "I think birds are kind of cool. Especially magpies? Oh, God," Richie took a few steps ahead, and then spun on his heel to walk backwards, facing Eddie and talking animatedly with his hands, "If I had the chance I would have a pet magpie. They're so pretty- their feathers look all blue in the sunlight and stuff, and they get so fluffed out when they're pissed." Eddie looked dumbfounded, his brows furrowed, his jaw dropped- disgusted, that was the word for the expression he wore.
"Are you fucking kidding me? A magpie? Those stupid, nasty black birds with the white chest? Jesus, what's wrong with you?" Running a hand over his face, Eddie let out a huff- Richie's smile grew, somehow, if that was even possible, at the distress his words seemed to have caused in the smaller boy. Seeing him all worked up like this made that weird feeling in Richie's chest grow tenfold. Brushing that thought away, still walking backwards, he let Eddie continue. "They don't know how to shut up. Every Spring, ever Autumn- they would be screaming away at the crack of dawn. I could never catch a wink of sleep. My mommy used to fire at them with my dads old BB gun, but she never hit any of them."
"And thank fuck for that!" Richie scoffed, playful, "Those poor things don't deserve to be shot." Eddie countered with a quick 'yes they do', and then the bickering continued. Their back-and-forth, the lighthearted, heated-on-Eddie's-end banter felt perfectly natural. Richie would say some quip, some little thing about magpies that he found nice or cute or interesting, and then Eddie would come right back at him with why that was false. Richie probably should have been listening to these comebacks, but he found himself getting, more often than not, distracted by little things like the cinnamon-dusting of freckles across the bridge of Eddie's nose or the way his chocolate-toned hair was swept so tidily to one side, not a single hair out of place. Sooner or later, Portland Authentic had come into view, the glass windows showing through to the bustling interior. The after-school rush had just hit, and boy was Richie glad he had the day off today. As he pushed the door open, the bird conversation cut short, he noted exactly how busy it was. The line was huge, nearly reaching the entrance, and almost every single seat was taken except for one four-person table in the back corner.
"I'll get the table." Stan's tone was serious, his gaze determined, "Get me a-"
"B-Black coffee, yeah," Bill was smiling, waving Stan off with one hand. At once, with a final nod of affirmation, Stan sped away to secure the seats. Though Richie didn't say anything, he thought to himself how the hell can someone like black coffee? because there were so many other options, sweet drinks, savory, peppermint or rich chocolate- drinking straight black coffee as a regular was basically a sin in his eyes. Slow and steady, the line progressed, Bev behind the counter working with two other people named Britney and Mason. Richie wasn't too fond of them and honestly pitied poor Bev having to deal with them all alone. It had been a good two or three weeks since she's been stuck in a shift without Ben or Richie at her side. Finally the group of five arrived at the till and Beverly's face brightened like a Christmas tree.
"Rich! Ben! Mike, Bill, Eddie- Great to see you guys, my God, today has been absolute hell-" She seemed to notice she was getting sidetracked, and shook her head, frazzled, getting back into her working head space. "Sorry. What can I get you guys?"
"An affogato for me, my dear, and- Hey, Eds, do you like ice cream? Whatever- Get a second one for him, too. He needs to branch out a little." Eddie gaped, seconds from a retort as Richie ordered for him, but then Richie stepped aside and shot him a glance that was unusually sincere. "Hey, don't worry. It's another low-caffeine one, and it's more vanilla ice cream than anything else. You'll love it, I swear."
"Yeah, fine," Eddie set his jaw tight.
"One bl-black coffee and an amer-amer-am-" Bill bit his tongue, screwing his eyes shut, and then, with a sigh, forced out the words, "americano. Jesus." Bev gave him a calm smile, a silent 'it's alright, dude' and turned to Ben and Mike who ordered a coffee with two creams and two sugars and a lemonade. Richie offered to pay, abusing his employees discount, and then the group all turned to the table in the corner where Stan was still seated with a book in his hand. As the group approached he placed the small origami crane he used as a bookmark between the pages of The Shining and tucked the novel away- the front cover had been battered and frayed, a sign of having been read and reread for years and years. Clearly, the book was cherished.
"Great choice, Stanny," Richie complimented with a nod towards Stan's backpack, where the book had been hidden away, "You a fan of horror?" Stanley was quick to shake his head, hugging himself gently and running his hands along his upper arms.
"I hate it. Bill is making me read it. It's torture." Bill let out a barking laugh as he took his seat, having pulled up an extra chair from another table. Two people would have to squish into the corners since this spot was only meant to seat four- no one seemed to mind.
"So you're the horror fanatic, then. Glad to see we have something in common! What's your favourite movie?" Taking his own seat on Stan's other side, Richie held his head up with his hand, elbow planted on the tabletop, his curiosity officially piqued. Ben and Mike weren't fond of the gore-packed stuff Richie enjoyed, so Bev was the only one who ever went to the theater with him; the idea of having another friend to catch some films with was just swell.
"That's tough to suh-say," Bill tapped his finger against the table, glancing sidelong at Eddie, "We went to see H-Halloween a few years back. I luh-liked that one a lot, but now wh-whenever I see it I think of when your m-mom found out-"
"Shut up, Bill," Eddie cut him off with a harsh glare, and then forced his expression to soften, covering up his snappiness with a red face and a sarcastic, "D-Don't remind me." It was clear he was embarrassed- Richie would have pressed, since he couldn't keep his trashmouth shut sometimes (all the time), but Beverly saved the day by hurrying over with a tray balanced precariously on one hand. Atop that tray sat the array of beverages that the group of six had ordered. With Beverly's fantastic memory, she began to hand out cup after cup to exactly who had requested them; Ben got his double-double, Mike his lemonade, Bill his americano, Stan his black coffee (Beverly knew it was for him even though he hadn't been at the till- not many people ordered coffee black and she remembered him from that first night.). Richie and Eddie were given their double order of affogato, an Italian coffee-based dessert consisting of a scoop of vanilla ice cream and a shot of espresso on the side.
"Thanks, Bevvie," Richie bid her adieu with a two-fingered salute and then turned all of his attention towards Eddie, "Alright," he began, "Eds,"
"-Don't call me that-"
"-you're about to taste the best thing you've ever had in your life. Follow my lead," Richie plucked up the small one-ounce shot glass of espresso, and, reluctantly, Eddie did the same. In tandem, they poured the coffee over the ice cream, then grabbed their spoons. Eddie was the first to take a scoop, shooting Richie a glance that he couldn't decipher before taking the bite. For the quickest second his eyes seemed to light up, and then he swallowed down the obvious delight and simply shrugged his shoulders.
"It's alright, I guess," He grumbled, and then proceeded to devour the next bite of the treat. Richie grinned wide, taking a scoop of his own and lifting it into the air, accepting his victory.
"I would like to propose a toast!" He called, and all eyes turned to him, "To Stuttering Bill, Stan the Man, and Eddie Spaghetti- Welcome to the Losers Club!" With a cheer from nearly all- Eddie settling for a small smile- the group burst into friendly chatter. Richie's toast held some sort of unseen monumental weight- everyone felt it- even Beverly, who was behind the counter and working away, had paused to raise her water bottle with bright eyes. Though everyone felt it- it, being that feeling of rightness- no one said a word. It wasn't necessary. Richie, Ben, Beverly and Mike had been a quartet for a few years now, as thick as thieves- they had called themselves the 'Losers Club' and, until Eddie, Stan and Bill arrived, the four of them had been the only members. No one could be certain what had changed, but, just like that, all seven knew that they were a singular unit. It was no longer Richie, Ben, Beverly and Mike. Now, it was Richie, Ben, Beverly, Mike, Eddie, Bill and Stan. The Losers Club with a capital L and a capital C.
In a fleeting moment, Eddie caught Bill's gaze, and held it. The redhead was wearing his leadership smile, that easy-breezy full-face grin that so easily gained him respect. Once the two's eyes clicked, that smile shifted into something else, something softer, something that Bill reserved for Eddie. It was a brotherly smile- After all, Bill was the brother Eddie had never had. Bill was the rock, the island in the middle of the ocean, the one thing that never failed to keep Eddie sane, the solace in the storm that had been his mother, and was now the unfamiliar territory of Portland. In that smile was an unspoken promise, as well as something else. The promise was These people will keep you safe. The 'something else' was Bill's pride- his pride in Eddie. I'm proud of you, Eds, the smile said. You're doing great. For the first time in his life, Eddie was fearless. His own smile said Thank you.
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kewltie · 5 years ago
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in the midst of a battle w/ members of LoV, pro-hero ground zero save a rookie journalist who LITERALLY threw himself middle of all the chaos to grab photos & after yelling at the ignorant fuck, katsuki doesn't think he'll see him again but then HE SEES HIM EVERYWHERE. his name is midoriya izuku & he has some sort of death wish really bc katsuki keep finding him in the middle of all these hero vs villains battles and ONE TIME he tackled down a villain right???? and he doesnt even have a fucking quirk & yet he is seemingly unafraid of everything.
needless to say, katsuki is v smitten bc the litle awkward death defying shit. also, anyone who accidentally send katsuki to the hospital several times a month bc he keep getting into trouble and katsuki have to come rescue him and THEN YELLING AT KATSUKI FOR INTERFEARING W/ HIS JOB – may be katsuki’s true love.
katsuki get so fucking rile up at this quirkless man, who shown no fear and easily go toe to toe w/ him and yet is so incredibly humble and hilariously awkward, he is just into this badass idiot who is entirely devoted to his job and cursed w/ severe stubborn???? feels relatable. so yea, katsuki ofc taps that ass right the fuck away bc he knows a good one when he sees it bc izuku is indirectly responsible for three broken ribs after katsuki had pulled him out of ANOTHER TROUBLING SITUATION. he's a trouble magnet and shit-stirrer and katsuki's heart is moved.
so they start dating and it goes SO WELL. izuku still get in major shitstorm for his job and katsuki still drags him out of it w/ a few bruise here and there, but afterward they go grab a bite and crash at each other place. super romantic and sweet and it's so v good. but!!! there's something weird about izuku. he doesn't talk much about his family, to katsuki anyway. BUT HE'S SUPER CLOSE TO THEM. his parents seem to call him daily and he go visit them often, but he never bring his parents up to katsuki esp his dad & izuku kinda got a stalker??
it's not like katsuki didn't notice right away, but HE THOUGHT IT WAS HIS STALKER. one of his super creepy fans probably but nope this person only tails izuku and when katsuki tell him about it, izuku is like, 'oh that's just toga'. apparently, izuku knows his talker v v well. the stalker apparently is sent by izuku's father to watch out & protect izuku and katsuki pauses bc who the fuck does a journalist who lives on takeouts and shitty cable TVs need a bodyguard?!!! so yea katsuki's new bf background is fucking weird and mysterious.
katsuki has his agency dig into izuku's background (not that they hadn't vet izuku's before for katsuki's safety) but they comb through the archives and izuku's history and it's comes out v v v v clean, sparkling even. honestly, katsuki doesn't know WTF IS UP W/ HIS NEW BF. so he confront izuku about his weirdo stalker/bodyguard, his avoidance about his family & his dad in particular, and his eerie squeaky AND CLEARLY SCRIPTED papertrails. izuku get shifty eyes and is like, "you won't believe me." And katsuki says tersely, "fucking try me."
Izuku drops his gaze to the floor and says, finally, "my dad is the leader of the league of villains." and YEA, KATSUKI'S BRAIN SHUT DOWN FOR SEC bc his deku?? stupid suicidal stubborn bleeding heart deku??? FUCK NO. but izuku just nods his head and grimaces. the LoV is the largest criminal org in the world w/ long list of crimes & longer list of criminals that make its their home. their roster are made up of terrifying people w/ dangerous quirks... and IZUKU, quirkless and softhearted izuku is the leader's most precious son. the idea itself is COMPLETELY ABSURD! HOW does that ever make sense? izuku is a civilian who works normal if a bit dangerous job & doesn't seem to have any *evil* inclinations at all yet he hail from the worst kind of genetic source possible. maybe he's just faking it all along.
which made katsuki absolutely furious that izuku might been some kind of sleeper agent from the LoV sent to trick spy & kill him or something and izuku's eyes wide, immediately protests, "no, no, i swear! i dont have anything to do w/ my fathers... org." but katsuki has a hard time accepting it esp with the truth bomb thrown at his feet now that he realizes HE'S DATING THE ONLY SON OF EVIL OF THE MOST VILE CRIMINAL IN THE WORLD. so yea, he walks out on izuku, saying he need some space & izuku was looking so heartbroken as he left
for the next few days, katsuki stews in his thought. he doesn't tell anyone about what he had found out, but he doesn't contact izuku either. This last for couple of weeks until, one day just as he in the middle of patrol there's some commotion that attract his teams and katsuki is separated from them. he's cornered by several LoV members, outnumbered five to one and katsuki lost his comms in the ensuring scuffles but instead of kicking his ass bc well they're foes, one of them break ranks toga (the blood queen) approach him w/ a bloodthirsty grin & a knife pointing toward him.
"hey, pretty boy," she coos w/ a flicker of edge, "stop ignoring our young master! you made him cried & he won't come out of his room. I hate seeing him so upset bc Izuku-chan should always be smiling! if you dont fix this ill rip your hide from your bones and wear it as a cape."
the group behind her make various grunt of agreement, all promising him death and disembowelment for... apparently breaking izuku's heart. katsuki is so outrage that he nearly explodes on the spot bc these dumbass villains think they CAN BLACKMAL/THREATEN HIM?! HIM, GROUND ZERO?! also, even more furious by the fact that they insuate that HE BROKE UP WITH IZUKU?! wtf, he never said that!! needing space meant just a temporary break s he gets his bearing on wut to do next... but not like a perma break, but izuku's ppl thought their relationship ended.
katsuki is even more offended by that notion bc izuku is even a bigger idiot than he thought. HOW could someone that much of crybaby over just temp break is some manipulative coldhearted spy?? right now his instinct says, izuku is telling the truth. he isn't tricking katsuki.
izuku is seemingly sweet, humble, & awkward but he got that rebellious streak a mile wide. loud in his opinions & shit-stirrer by choice, he faces down villains & heroes alike like they're on equal ground even though izuku is defenseless. he respect the law but only when it applies. katsuki has never seen such a fucking firecracker like izuku who loves people & the world but have little respect for any gov entity or laws and think they're good only when they're helping ppl but otherwise they're abritary (lmao). he such chaotic force for good it's hilarious. so yea, he believes that izuku is the SON OF AFO now bc that lil shit is a menace. A GOOD MENACE, but still a goddamn menace. he seems to stay firmly on the side of 'good' as it is which make his relationship with his villain father a fucking mystery & headache for katsuki.
so katsuki, gritting his teeth, clichely demands the LoV group to take him to their leader so he can verbally kick his bf's ass for keeping his fucked up secrets and stupidly mistaken that they're broken up. the group happily ties up him and blindfolds him bc well SECRET LAIR. katsuki is crazy, ok. like, STUPIDLY CRAZY to go blindly and no backups w/ some of the worst villains in history so he can meet up w/ his stupid bf and his crazy father. he could end up dead tmr or some shit bc it all could have been a trick to lure him in w/ his guard down but if izuku can be an idiot for dating a hero when he's a son of a villain than KATSUKI CAN BE A BIGGER IDIOT FOR GOING TO MEET HIS BF'S VILLANIOUS FATHER AT HIS SECRET TORTURE FORTRESS OR SOME SHIT. love can make ppl dumb and they're both a perfect example of it.
so katsuki get blindfolded and escorted to the LoV hq and it's a suprisingly sweet ride to there. no bumps, no abuse, no torture shit going on. he get offer food and drink and it's FUCKING WEIRD. his kidnappers start some casual convo w/ him about izuku and his job of all things. they even joke about how katsuki arrested one of them one time and almost kill another THE OTHER TIME & it's all happy bs??? it's even worst than torture. katsuki just want this to end already!! eventually they arrive and katsuki is let out. he get inside & his blindfold is off.
it's... nothing like he expected. it's traditional japanese house w/ sprawling garden, koi ponds, & beautiful woods. it's pristine, homey, and terribly normal. "ha, you thought we were going to take you to some kind of evil lair, right?" twice says, grinning bc he's an ass. "that's next time! we save that for official bsn." he jabs Katsuki's in the shoulder playfully. "you're meeting sensei and the mistress so of course it got to be at their house and not the 'office'."
katsuki's hands start twitching like he's going to explode someone or something but he's quickly drag away before he could do anything about it. lead through some hallways before depositing inside a tearoom where there's a SHIT TON of pics of baby!izuku & his childhood accolades on the wall. this look less like a room to greet visitors but to show off izuku. just as katsuki goes to examine a cute pic of bb!izuku playing in a field of flowers & holding one up towrad the camera, the doors slide open and a couple walk in. one of them is an older woman who looks eerily like izuku and the young woman also ft. in many of the wall pics.
she smiles warmly at and goes to greet him right away. "hi, bakugou-kun! welcome to our home, i'm inko, Izuku's mother," she introduces herself. while she's a source of happy energy and warmth, the other man beside her is another story. he gives katsuki's an icy stare. katsuki already knows who he is before he even say anything. AFO looks younger in comparison to his reported age, notably handsome, and he carries himself like some warlord from the warring periods.
"I should kill you," is the first thing he says. "my son should only cry in joy, over his terrible taste in romantic media consumption, & dumber things." spoken like a man who dealt with midoriya walking crying machine izuku his entire life and also a hopelessly devoted father.
"hisashi!" inko scolds. which is strange to katsuki bc he didn't even think AFO even have a name but in front of him isn't some evil man who mastermind gov't take over & ruin so many ppl lives but astupid father overprotected of his son.
"but i won't," AFO admits regretfully. "Izuku would be even more sad and if you're dead your death will haunt him needlessly more. he won't be able to forget you and move on." he frowns, like he actually had CONSIDER THAT ROUTE DEEPLY before casting that idea aside.
What the fuck, katsuki thought and says exactly that, "what the fuck. there's something seriously wrong with you," he points out what he think is v obvious.
AFO shrugs. "I love my son. He's my-" Inko's frown and he clears his throat, "our most precious treasure and we do everything to ensure his happiness. do you understand us, bakugou katsuki? inko and i have raise with love and care for 20yrs and i won't have some rough neck capers try to destroy his smile. i dont care who you are or wut you can do bc i can put you ten feet under w/ a snap of my fingers & nobody will be able to save you but like i said i won't."
Katsuki grind his teeth, fists clenched at his side, before lowering his head. this isnt time to fight, they're not on the field & on the job. this isnt about their respective stance on moral superiority but izuku. izuku is why they're both here. "i came here for him. i want to fix it," he says. "just let me see him." he pauses & grimaces like the taste of whatever he say next disgust him. "please."
AFO frowns, staring at katsuki for a beat, two. like he can pull apart katsuki's motives and tears into his rib to see w/e make him tick. "fine," he waves katsuki away, "you may see him now but if he cry anything beside in happiness i'll have your head and your entire agency." it's not a threat. it's a warning lace with truth that katsuki has no doubt he will carry out if a single tear slip pass izuku and fall.
inko claps her hand happily. "great, i'm glad you guys are geting along so well!" she says, like threats of murder haven't been thrown at his feet. clearly, she's used to the fact that her husband is a completely psychopath and whipped for their son. this fucking crazy family.
katsuki grunts, not knowing what else to say beside, 'have you ever thought of fucking divorce bc yea maybe you will be less crazy by then' but he holds his tongue bc they're still izuku's parents and he already made a bad impression on them even though technically not his FAULT.
AFO doesn't promise anymore murder in his future but the dark look on his face is enough as inko's lead him out & toward izuku's room. she drops him right outside it and gives him an encouraging smile before heading off, but katsuki has no doubt the parents are lurking around. katsuki sucks in a deep breath before raising his fist and knocks. he hears unhurried footsteps on the other side and slowly the door is slide open.
"Papa, I already said--" izuku whines, and stops as soon as he sees who ACTUALLY on the other side. "K-Katsuki?! What are you--?"
Katsuki blinks, trying to get his fucking brain to grapple with the thought of AFO as 'papa' and his head nearly explode. he drags a hand down his face and once again thinks, THIS FUCKIN' FAMILY. "Look, you idiot," he starts in lieu of any answer. "We didn't fucking break up."
Izuku looks haggard, buffy red eyes and the dark circle under it, speaking of how upset he was. he clearly didn't get any good rest these several days they were apart. he lifts an accusatory brow at Katsuki. "you didn't pick up my calls or answer any of my text," he retorts.
Katsuki rolls his eyes. "what part of I needed space, time to think didn't you get?" he snaps back. "It didn't mean go cry and sulk your parent's home like a damn coward because you were too dumb to think of anything beside we may have broken up!"
"But--but," Izuku's lips wobble and katsuki nearly jump out of his skin bc jfc don't cry here or i'll be skinned alive, "i was scared that you really mean it! that's why i didn't want to tell you in the first place bc then you wouldn't want to have anything to do w/ me."
Katsuki sighs, a bone deep tired sigh. "Now, why would you think i would have any problem with dating the son of my nemesis?" he says dryly. Izuku's brows furrow. "All Might is Papa's nemesis," he unhelpfully point out. "I don't think Papa even knew you existed until we dated."
Katsuki scowls. "that's not the fucking point," he shouts, temper rising w/ every word. "Your dad is the fucking boogieman who wants to sow discord in the world & it's my job to catch him &lock away for good. Do you see my moral crisis over this when im dating his beloved son?!"
"I-" Izuku's face falls, "dont you think I dont know that? I've lived with him for over 20yrs, I know exactly what he's capable of." he looks away. "But, he's my Papa & im terrible for still choosing him over the world. So," izuku says solemnly. "i dont expect the same from you."
Katsuki grits his teeth and steps right into izuku's space, up in his face. "Look, im only going to say this once so listen the fuck up," he starts. "I like you. A lot. Stupidly. Gods know why when you drive me up the fucking wall all the time, but here I am standing before you."
"A lot, huh?" Lips twitching, Izuku's eyes go soft.
Katsuki scowls. "Dont make me repeat myself, but yes fucking a lot that your fucking groupies & your old man threatened to kill me several times over did not deter me from coming here," he says, hand cradling Izuku's cheek.
"It's because I'm dating you and not your father. Whatever crimes he'd commited is not on you, you don't have to carry his sins," he tells Izuku, leaning in to press a kiss too fast and fleeting on izuku's forehead. "just stay true to yourself and i'll fucking deal with it."
Izuku's close his eyes and lets out a shaky exhales, the air of relief that passes through him is shuddering. "Ok, ok," he murmurs, opening his eyes to look at katsuki. there's a twinkle in them as he smiles, soft and sweet, the kind you can stupidly drunk on & never let go.
In that hazy moment, katsuki thinks, AFO doesn't need to plan any premeditated murder in case things go v wrong bc this is how he'll die w/ izuku's smile right in his front his eyes, cutting him down one curve lips at a time. Fuck, he's just as whipped for izuku as AFO.
it's good that izuku not a fucking psychopath like his father bc this would have gone v v v wrong. izuku would make a terrifying villain. Worse than his own father bc it's not fear & intimidation that will get ppl to follow him but izuku's own magnetic personality that move them.
"don't ever become a villain, ok?" katsuki insists suddenly, grabbing his shoulder tightly.
"where did that come from?" izuku laughs, eyes crinkling. "And dont worry, papa had tried. many, many times but i haven't turn over to the darks ide if that's what you worry about."
"Good," katsuki says firmly, and thinks the world better for it. one less crazy midoriya to raise hell. izuku is trouble enough as it is when katsuki thought he was just a quirkless journalist w/ a death wish but now there's a chance he could go rouge any moment and--yea. no.
"Sooo," izuku says, bouncing on his heels. "are we back together now?"
katsuki flicks him on the forehead. "we never broke up in the first place, you dolt."
izuku grins and suddenly throws his arm around katsuki. "ah, i miss you so much kacchan!!!" he declares excitedly.
and after they made up, katsuki interrogate izuku about wtf is wrong w/ his father bc how did AFO of all ppl get a villain son who isn't all about /that/ kind of bsn he's in. turns out izuku always have a healthy regard for heroes so he never thought of joining his father's organization. though AFO would have been super happy to take izuku in bc izuku is terrifyingly clever & resourceful but he lets izuku go & do his thing anyway. they just mutually agree not to talk shop when it's family, keeping their jobs outside &not in the home to keep both of their sanity.
so izuku knows shit about the 'family bsn' except wut everyone knows bc he's not involve with any of that and in his everyday job as a journalist izuku often times clash w/ his father AND expose some of his schemes bc it's part of his job & he doesn't shy away from it. AFO wasn't upset at all having his plans ruin by his own son. nope. he was SUPER PROUD OF IZUKU!!! to able to accomplish such thing on his own even if it's against him lol. but izuku is still his father's so so he doesn't take on just AFO, other villains, & dark org. he takes on the gov't, hero association, and even other heroes themselves if he ever catches on if they didn't live up to his ideals of being 'proper hero' like all might. he fiercely chases and exposes anything that he deems corrupted and wrong not caring which side they're on.
which makes izuku kind of chaotic good. he acts on his own whims & sense of justice, disregarding all rules & barriers. which is why he admires katsuki so much bc katsuki stands by his rule staunchantly & won't ever move from it, izuku knows katsuki wont ever be sway by the dark. kinda like izuku's father who stands firmly by his belief & does everything to reach his goals. WHICH IS NOT EXACTLY WHAT KATSUKI WANT TO BE COMPARE TO ESP BY A NOTORIOUS VILLAIN LIKE AFO lol. but yea, now that he got izuku's motive and why he's the way he is, it get easier.
they continue dating, izuku continues getting into trouble 120% of the time, katsuki keeps bailing him out, and sometimes IZUKU BAILS HIM OUT bc izuku may be quirkless but he got an army of the world's most terrible villains on his side so yea izuku IS TERRIFYING. and they aren't just dating but they're 100000% serious w/ each other bc now katsuki go to izuku's parents house for dinner every sunday and have to put up with AFO and play nice w/ each other for izuku's sake bc they come ton an understanding they will be IN-LAWS one day lol! their dinner convo is mostly the two of them taking jab at each other bc katsuki trash of AFO's plans or AFO's sends katsuki's ppl to the hospital and got away with it. they never stop being enemy even for izuku bc of where they stand on but mutually agree not to kill each other. they're both fiercely devoted individual who are obsessively workaholic, stubborn, vainglorious, and loves just as much as they breathe for their ppl and though they never agree on anything, this they will agree on bc izuku's happiness is everything to them!!!
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emybain · 5 years ago
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Speak Up
hiiiiii I dont like this fic but im posting anyway because im tired and my body is driving me nuts right now! maybe when I can think clearly again ill write another fic where nova and Adrian have a fight (or maybe ill just write it now sksksk) because this didn't turn out the way I wanted it to. I felt bad about just deleting it though so I figured I might as well post it,,,no harm in that other than my reputation
SPOILERS FOR SUPERNOVA
SPOILERS FOR SUPERNOVA
SPOILERS FOR SUPERNOVA
Nova draped an arm over her eyes, feeling a headache coming on. Well, she had a recurring headache just about every day so far that week, and it was only Tuesday. Already she was sick of them. They weren’t the only things she was sick of. 
    “Men are stupid,” Danna said from below Nova. She, Ruby, Danna, and Narcissa were all in Ruby’s room. It still felt weird for Nova to have girl acquaintances, dare she say friends, the same age as her after only having Ingrid and Honey for so many years down in the subway tunnels. “Why do you think I like girls?” 
    Nova and Danna were still on rocky terms, Danna being the only one left on Nova’s former team who hadn’t fully forgiven Nova yet. Nova didn’t blame her; she’d be stubborn to forgive herself as well after everything she put Danna through, as well as the others. Still, it could be frustrating at times when Nova stretched to be nice to the other girl and have it thrown back in her face with a snarky comment. At least now, Nova felt as if Danna was finally starting to accept Nova’s apology, and they could hold a civil conversation when left alone. 
    “Have you tried talking to him?” Ruby questioned, ignoring Danna’s comment. Nova rolled over onto her stomach to peek down at them from her spot on top of one of the twin’s beds. 
    “No.” Nova groaned, sitting up and draping her legs over the mini wall on the bunk bed, meant to keep someone from falling off in their sleep. “I don’t care to see him right now.”
    “Are you going to break up with him?” Narcissa eyed Nova over her book, a mischievous smile on her lips. Her head was resting on Danna’s lap. “That would be hilarious.” 
    Danna swatted at her lightly, affectionately, before going back to playing with her hair. The two had been dating for a few weeks now, and Nova was beginning to wonder if she and Adrian had been as disgustingly adorable when their relationship was official. 
    “No,” Nova said, almost too quickly. Danna snorted. “I don’t know. Is it something worth breaking up over?” She looked down at her hands, feeling her cheeks heat up. 
    Three months of bliss. Apparently, that was all the world wanted Nova to have before it slapped her in the face. It had been three months since the Supernova, and things with Adrian were going fine until last Saturday night when Nova had gone over to watch a movie. It had been a long day for both of them; along with the other Renegades, they were trying to install more independence among the citizens. Now that everyone in the world was a prodigy, more and more people were beginning to see that they didn’t need the Renegades to protect them and do everything for them, and the Renegades, much to Nova’s relief, believed the same thing. It was a lot of work, undoing the system the Renegades had crafted, but Nova enjoyed it. 
    Well, she enjoyed most of it, save the media attention she was getting. A lot of people didn’t know what to think of her, the girl who was one of the most wanted criminals in the city and who was now what they deemed a “good guy” that was dating Gatlon’s golden boy. They wanted to know more about her, and that meant having cameras and reporters constantly in her face whenever she left her apartment. Nova was sick of it, to say the least. And some magazines were starting to catch on, based off of what they were now writing about her and how she had a snippy attitude and a mean composure. Fine. Whatever. She didn’t need a couple of journalists defining who she was. 
    Adrian always tried to comfort her whenever a new story came out, but it never really worked. She could tell he felt bad for her, but what was he to do? He grew up in the spotlight. She grew up in the subway tunnels. He just...didn’t understand. 
    When she had been at his house the weekend before, they had been somewhat paying attention to the movie until Nova got up to use the bathroom. After she got out, Adrian was not on his couch anymore. Figuring he must’ve gone upstairs for more snacks, she had grabbed the empty popcorn bowl and headed up to help him out. But then she paused before she walked into the kitchen, hearing voices. It was a habit, something she needed to break, and she wouldn’t have kept eavesdropping if she hadn’t heard her name mentioned. 
    “...need to keep her in line for this interview, Adrian.” She had recognized Hugh’s voice immediately. Like with Danna, Nova and Adrian’s father had an awkward relationship. While he was surprisingly okay with her dating his son, Nova could tell he was still cautious around her, as if she might break at any moment if someone said the wrong thing. “You know how she gets sometimes, and we can’t have her saying too much.” His tone was light, joking. Nova grit her teeth all the same. 
    “Saying too much?” Nova had leaned in closer, pressing her ear against the door when she heard Adrian’s voice. 
    “He means something inappropriate or uncalled for.” She remembered deflating at Simon’s words; she had thought that between Adrian’s parents, Simon was actually warming up to her. Clearly, that wasn’t the case. “She wasn’t exactly raised in a proper environment and doesn’t know proper manners. You know we like Nova, but once she opens her mouth…” 
    This conversation kept going for a few minutes, and with every second that passed, the sour taste on Nova’s tongue got stronger and stronger. Nova and Sketch’s team had an interview with a major television show in a few weeks that Nova was not looking forward to, but was doing it for Adrian’s sake. It would be their first appearance on a larger platform other than newspapers and magazines following the Supernova, and Nova’s first serious interview. Bleh. Hugh and Simon must’ve been referring to the recent news about her; why else would they have a private conversation with their son? She wasn’t so much as annoyed at the fact that they spoke of her like she was a brash child. No, what hurt was the fact that in the few minutes Nova listened to the conversation, not once did she hear Adrian speak up for her. 
    “Well, what did he say when you found out?” Nova jolted her head up, blinking at Ruby as her mind shifted back to the present. 
    Nova shrugged. “I walked into the kitchen and told him I had to go. I was already out the door before he could say anything.” She let out a slow sigh. “I’m just upset that he didn’t even defend me. I don’t give a rat’s ass what Simon or Hugh think of me, but isn’t Adrian supposed to be on my side for things like this?” She truly felt stupid for having this conversation. Silly, even. Her problems weren’t supposed to be about trivial things like this. Never in her nearly seventeen years of life would Nova had thought that she would ever have girl talk with girls her age, either. It was all just ridiculous.  
    “His parents insulting you based on a bias?” Ruby scrunched her nose up. “Yeah. He should’ve said something, but have you considered the possibility that maybe he didn’t get the chance?”
    Nova picked at her cuticles; it was a new bad habit she got herself into when she was stressed. “I listened to their conversation for a good five minutes. Adrian had plenty of time to interrupt them.” 
    The room was silent for a few minutes. Outside the door, Nova could hear Ruby’s brothers horse-playing. She could smell whatever meal her mom was making for dinner. 
“Well, Nova,” Danna reclined back to rest against the wall, “I’ve known Adrian longer than Ruby, but I think we both know that Adrian would never hurt you on purpose or go behind your back. We’ve seen the way he looks at you, and while it makes me gag,” the edges of her lips curled up, “he’s afraid of losing you.”
“What are you saying? That I should just forget about it and move on?” Nova huffed, crossing her arms. 
“At least go talk to him. Explain why you’re hurt. I’m sure he’ll understand.”
Nova wished it were that simple.
__________
    It was Thursday morning, and Nova had yet to take Danna’s advice. She didn’t want to admit it out loud, but she was nervous at the thought of confronting her boyfriend. What if she had overreacted and he now thought she was being irrational? What if she had waited too long and now Adrian didn’t want to see her? 
    She tried to block out her negative thoughts in the Training Hall with Ruby, where she had suggested they work out together that morning. Now, mid morning, they were running laps around the track. Nova was finally beginning to get lost in her element when she noticed two people walking towards them. Oscar and Adrian.
    From beside her, Ruby placed a hand on Nova’s arm and slowed both of them down. She waved at the two boys, a bright smile lighting up her face at the sight of her boyfriend. Nova’s eyes widened, and she pried Ruby’s fingers off of her. 
    “What?” Ruby raised an eyebrow. “I thought you made up with him already.” When Nova shook her head, lips pressed tightly together, Ruby rolled her eyes. “Well, now’s the time to do it. Come on.” With no other way out, Nova let Ruby lead her off the track to meet the boys. Adrian eyed her cautiously, to which she responded with a glare. He averted his gaze immediately, clearly embarrassed, but it didn’t stop him from glancing over her body. She crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly self conscious about the fact that she had discarded her shirt earlier and was now left in only a sports bra and leggings, both drenched in sweat. She looked disgusting to say the least, and it wasn’t how she wanted Adrian seeing her. Not that she cared, of course. 
    Ruby greeted Oscar with a hug, and he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Oh, I completely forgot to mention this.” Ruby turned back to Nova and hit the palm of her hand to her forehead softly. “Oscar and I made plans for brunch today. Do you guys want to join?” 
    Nova plastered a thin smile to her lips, answering for herself and Adrian before he could even open his mouth. “No, thank you. I want to get in a few more miles before leaving. You guys have fun, though.” 
    Ruby narrowed her eyes at Nova, as if she was saying “Really?” but Nova pretended she didn’t see it. She waved goodbye to the two of them and turned around, starting up her jog again. She ran for a good twenty feet before she heard Adrian’s voice from behind her, getting louder. 
    “Nova! Hey, wait up!”
    Groaning, Nova stopped again. She wasn’t going to get out of this, obviously, so she waited for Adrian to catch up to her until she spoke. “What?”
    He flinched at the harsh tone in her voice, the movement so subtle Nova almost missed it. She bit the inside of her cheek. “You haven’t been answering my messages.” It was true; she hadn’t been. He had sent a few since Saturday, but Nova hadn’t bothered checking to see what they said. She had been too frustrated to care about his apologies. 
    “I’ve been busy,” she replied, pursing her lips. “Sorry that I don’t have proper etiquette in communication. It was how I was raised, you know.” 
Adrian squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before opening them back up. “Listen, about Saturday, can you please let me explain?” 
Nova stepped off the track so that she wouldn’t be in the way of other runners. “Explain what? Because from my understanding, you let your dads insult the only family I knew for ten years. No, they weren’t perfect,” she let out a harsh laugh, “but they tried. Honey and Leroy and Winston, at least. Ingrid at times when she was in a good mood.”
“Were you seriously that offended?” Adrian took a step back. “Because they manipulated you, Nova. I understand that Leroy is a better person now, but for the rest of them, well,” he shook his head, “I’m not even going to say anything.”
“Just like on Saturday?” She cocked her head to the side. “I don’t give a shit what your dads think of me, okay, Everhart? I do care about what you think of me, though, and if you see me as some uncontrollable toddler who can’t keep her mouth shut like Hugh does, then why are we even together?” The last bit stung her as much as Adrian. Once the words left her mouth, she instantly regretted them, but it was too late now. So she huffed and looked up at him expectantly. 
Nova noticed how people slowed their stride when they passed by the arguing couple, eager for whatever gossip they could get. No doubt word would get out to the press, and Nova’s mood would sour more. 
“Nova, you know I don’t think of you like that, not even in the slightest.” He reached a hand forward, placing it on her arm. She shrugged it off. 
“Then why,” she asked quietly, looking down, “didn’t you defend me? I sat there for five minutes listening to your dads talk to you, and not once did you speak up. Are you afraid that I’m going to embarrass you in front of the entire world? Because I’m not a perfect little doll and that I come from what many people see as garbage? 
“Of course not!” Adrian cried out, drawing more attention to them. He glanced around before lowering his voice. “No, Nova, you’re right. I...I should’ve said something. I wasn’t comfortable with what they were telling me but I kept my mouth shut anyway. I guess I’m just...trying to stay on their good side? Ever since they found out about the Sentinel, things haven’t been the same around the house. But that’s no excuse. You’re my girlfriend and one of the people I care the most about.”
Nova’s shoulders relaxed, but only slightly. She hadn’t really noticed how things may have changed around the Everhart-Westwood household, but she wouldn’t be surprised if they had.
“I’m sorry, babe,” Adrian murmured, daring to reach out again and pull her closer by her hips. Nerves spiked through her body at the nickname; he had used it a few times before, teasingly, because he knew it annoyed her. What he didn’t know was the effect it had on her, despite her holding a grudge against it.  “I was an idiot.”
Nova’s leg bounced nervously, her eyes not meeting Adrian’s. How could she stay upset with him? She knew he was actually sorry and not just saying it to appease her; that’s just how Adrian was. 
“I accept your apology.” She sighed, placing a hand on his outstretched arm. “I’m sorry too...for overreacting. I just…” She peeked up at him. “Sometimes these articles get to me, you know? They put it in my head that I’m not good enough for you because of who I am and where I came from, and then I have to hear the same things from your dads, and I was hurt that you said nothing. I-I know that I can act without thinking sometimes, and say things that I don’t mean, but I can’t stand other people berating me for it.”
Adrian took both of her hands and laced their fingers together. “Those articles are full of bullshit. Nova, one of the things that I love most about you is that you’re not afraid to speak your mind and you’re not afraid to act on something immediately. Your stubbornness and bold composure make you you.” His lips quirked up. “Not to mention, it’s kind of hot.”
Nova had to laugh at that, her first real smile in days breaking out on her face. “Thank you,” she mumbled. 
“No more secrets anymore, right?” He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Please come to me sooner when I make a mistake so we can talk about it. I can’t stand you being upset with me.” 
“Okay.” Nova nodded, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck to hug him. “Just as long as you do the same. Going five days without you has sucked ass.”
“It’s a deal.”
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Obedience (part one)
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Avery sighed standing in his bedroom looking in the mirror he could catch a glimse of you asleep in his bed with a peaceful look of pure bliss on your sleeping face, a small smile spread across his face as he remembered last night and how your face lit up when you saw he was home since he hasnt had much time to spend with you lately. Avery looked down and grabbed his cufflinks giving another sigh not wanting to leave you like this knowing that you wouldnt mind but still he wanted to stay and spend the day with you and only you, avery fixed his tie reminiscing on the day you two met he smiled remembering how the suns rays seemed to shine so brightly just for you and how on your first date the moonlight against your skin stunned him. Everything about you enchanted him and bewitched him cursing his mind and stealing his heart never failing to leave him breathless in shock and awe but work was work and it had to be done, he tensed up looking at you hearing you stir in your sleep but seeing you still fast asleep made him relax a little and continue to get ready for work so he wouldnt be late. When avery was finished he turned around leaning against the vanity just watching as you slept peacefully admiring your bare body that was only covered by a blanket and your wild hair that was a clear indication of the events last night, he walked towards the bed gently stroking your cheek brushing your hair out of your face before he softly kissed your cheek and silently left the room.
Once outside avery was met with a familiar face, walker stood tall and proud holding two coffees one for him and one for avery "good morning walker" avery said as he took one of the cups; this wasn't out of the ordinary after all walker was a sort of night owl but when avery thought about it he had never seen or heard of walker sleeping ever. And as walker opened the car door for him he got in then took a sip of his coffee "another long day sir" walker asked once he was in the drivers seat which made avery smile, he and walker had been friends for years and had been work partners for way longer which is how walker knew that something was bugging avery though he didnt think it was his place to comment on such things.
Averys work day was like any other work day full of papers, numbers, finances, marketing, and all that boring business but really all avery could think of was you; his mind was clouded with thoughts of you and all your loveliness he bit his lip smirking thinking of your smile, your kind eyes, and your soft skin against his which made him groan. The thought of your hands on his body pulling him closer made his heart race with anticipation and groan upset that he couldnt get you off his mind "mister manning, im sure that one work day will not make a difference, as you have previously stated the company can run itself," said walker, the bodyguard offered some wisdom to the tortured CEO "and if it cannot ill be here to make sure it does, now go to her im sure she would love your company at home today sir" avery scoffed and smirked over walkers words. he looked at his friend then at his stack of papers with an array of different text seeming to be in a foreign language and a smile spread across his face as he sprang up from his desk chair and grabbed his coat and keys, the CEO turned with a smirk looking at walker "good luck old friend, as for me i dont need luck for my lover is waiting for me" walker smiled at him and with that avery quickly ran from his office to the elevator with one thing on his mind and that was you.
The frantic man sped home hoping you were still there and that you hadn't left to shop or wonder around as you usually do over the weekends, avery had a goofy happy smile on his face as his dodge challenger speeding through traffic ignoring the speed limit, running red lights, and swerving around corners whatever it took to get to you as fast as possible.
Once home he put his car in park got out and threw the keys into the hands of his Gardener "make sure she gets in the garage" he yelled back as he ran to the front door, as he got to the door he stopped and composed himself; giving a sigh he slicked back his hair fixed his sleeves and straightened his tie. He turned pressing the doorbell gently listening to it ring with a proud smile looking at his reflection in the window noticing his hands looked empty so he picked a rose from the small bouquet near the door and waited, but when you didnt answer his smile faded and he looked confused wondering where you had gone "scusami, dov'è la padrona di casa?" He asked the lawn worker in Italian where she went "Non so che non l'abbia detto, signore" he Replied that he didn't know which concerned avery. You always Told the workers where you were going even if it was just for an hour and knowing that averys once happy expression turned to a scowl, his grip on the rose stem tightened causing the thorns to pierce his skin making him bleed and the lawn worker backed away "prenditi il ​​giorno libero e dì lo stesso agli altri lavoratori, desidero stare da solo" he answered saying to send the workers home and take the day off through gritted teeth walking into the house after opening the door. Once inside avery called walker knowing he would be busy but work was nothing compare to his worry for her "walker shes gone i need you to find where she went to and do it now" he loosened his tie and paced the floor "yes sir right away" replied walker before they both hung up, he only had one rule for her and he has been strict with that one rule since the beginning of their relationship; always tell someone where your going or let someone know where you are cause if she went missing or worse got caught and taken by his father all hell would break loose for him. but avery tried to not worry and stay positive about it for your sake because he hated being mad or too strict with you for little things but this was a big scary real thing for avery especially since his father knew about you and could easily find you, it wouldn't surprise him if one day you came home crying saying that demons or harpy's attacked you nor would it shock him if his father attempted to use you as leverage to get him to do his bidding but even then he couldn't say yes so all he could do was protect to as best as he could. Although you weren't making it very easy with your attitude and your sass when he would try to establish rules and regulate your whereabouts for your safety even if he knew you could protect yourself he still wanted to know you were safe, Avery couldn't bare the thought of loosing you to his sick twisted father just the simple thought of his clawed hands on you made his blood boil with rage but when he heard the front door he relaxed a bit "Avery, I'm home!" Your voice called out to him.
He quietly listened as you searched around the house for him finally seeming to react once you found him In your bedroom sitting by the window with the lights off only able to see his silhouette as you reach for the switch he spoke "Don't" his stern voice made you stop and jump back immediately, he didn't scream or yell at you he never did and never would but something in his voice sounded different as he spoke to you "come" he commanded you and at first you were reluctant to obey but his low guttural growl made you force yourself to walk into the dark room towards him. As you got closer you could see his face a little clearer and he didn't look happy or even emotionless as he usually did all you could see on his face now was anger and disappointment "Avery I know you-" before you could finish explaining he interrupted "kneel" he said demanding your obedience, you sighed once again complying with his demands only to feel his clawed hands gently stoke your cheek before grabbing your face roughly as his red golden orbs glowed in the darkness both locked dead set on yours causing you to tremble and pout afraid of what he was going to do with you. His grip loosened as he saw the fear in your eyes "this will be the last time you disobey me" he spoke through gritted teeth as his hand traveled down your neck he grabbed it not squeezing just holding it in his hand the devil seeming to marvel at your softness before he took the cloth of your shirt between his fingers "off, all of it", you stood to your feet slowly once on your feet you started to strip off your clothes "not those" he stated as you reached to take off your lace panties and with that you stood awaiting your next command "what are you going to do to me?" You asked him your voice quiet and meek "let's just say," he gave you a fanged smirk "you have a hell of a night ahead of you".
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bnhascribbles · 6 years ago
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Walls
Kirishima x Reader
Hurt/Comfort, Dialogue Prompt (47, 66)
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Words: 1.1K
***Warnings: Possible abuse triggers (mentions of past abuse)!
On nights that you stayed, Kirishima watched you for longer than he’d ever admit.  He knew it was probably weird; If you ever caught him, he was pretty sure he’d die of embarrassment.  Still, he couldn’t help it.  It was strange seeing you lying there–as guarded as you usually were–caught halfway between “asleep” and “awake.”  Vulnerable; The word echoes in his ears, even though he knows you absolutely hate it, hate having any semblance of control yanked from your possession.  But when you’re facing away from him like this–baring your back, as still as a statue–it seems too fitting to brush off.  How long had it taken?  How long had it been before you’d stopped sneaking away in the dark?  Before you’d stopped flinching with every creak of the bed, stopped jumping whenever he shifted beneath the sheets?
When had you begun to trust him enough to let him past that wall of yours?  It wasn’t made of concrete or metal.  No, the barrier you’d erected was more like a thick sheet of tempered glass–transparent.  Most other people went about their lives without even noticing it was there.  “They’re just a private person,” they’d say.  “Professional.”  Kirishima could see it though; He’d smashed into it face-first too many times to count.  Introducing himself?  Thud.  Asking you out to drinks?  Thud.  Trying to learn anything more about you?  Thud.  Over the course of a year, he’d left his imprint in the layer separating you from the rest of the world.  Now, through some miracle, he’d made it to the other side.  You’d let him cross over.  Little had he known there was another wall waiting behind the first.
Kirishima loved you.  He’d been sure of that much from the first smile you’d granted him, as wary and testing as it’d been.  He’d bided his time, coming in as close as you’d allow him to, day by day.  The aching in his chest grew with every millimeter you relinquished.  Eventually, he’d found he couldn’t stand it anymore.  He’d blurted out three words, the three words that he’d only ever thought before.  You never repeated them back.  And he was fine with that.  But he still had so many questions.
Questions about the nightmares that always seemed to shake you from your sleep.
Questions about the bouts of anxiety that left you catatonic.
Questions about the sunken pink spots scattered across your back.  
Even though it was dark, even though most of them were covered by the edge of your tank top, he knew they were there.  The first time he’d been with you–really been with you–his own nervousness had kept him from focusing on much of anything.  The second time, he’d glanced at the marks in passing, noting the way the clusters almost resembled freckles–but they were too perfect, too circular, too unnatural.  The third time, his curiosity almost got the better of him; Kirishima had almost asked about them.  Almost.  The truth was, he’d known better than to do that–he’d known that you would more than likely distance yourself from him if he gave any indication that he was trying to force his way in too quickly.  More than that, the truth was, he’d learned more than a few things from working with Bakugo.
Things like the way an old burn heals over.
“I can feel you staring at me, Eijiro.”  You mumble through a drowsy haze, jolting him from his moment of reflection.
Kirishima doesn’t respond, lying there and wondering.  After a moment passes, he shimmies in closer, leaving only an inch of empty air between the pair of you.
“Just thinking.”  He mumbles, never once lifting his eyes from the curve of your shoulder, the spot where a particularly angry bunch of dots gathers along your skin.
“About what?��  You yawn, none the wiser.  
He reaches out, tracing a gentle line down the slope of your neck.  “You really wanna know?”
“Mmhm.”  It’s a sleepy sound–breathy and drawn out.  At ease.  
He hesitates, frozen for fear of ruining everything.  If nothing changed, he reasoned, then nothing could go sour.  Before he can convince himself to back down though, he grazes his fingertips over one of the scars, breathing.
“Who did this to you?”
He can feel your body go rigid the second he finishes the question.  You inhale sharply, and for a moment, he truly believes the silence will be his only answer.
“Somebody you don’t need to worry about.”  You finally respond, hushed, but sounding much more awake.  “Somebody that died a long time ago.”
Quiet returns, and the regret seeps in.  He’d pushed you away again.  Dammit.  Kirishima goes to remove his hand, to give you the space you need.
“I’m sor–”
“Don’t.”  You hiss, catching his wrist as you flip over to face him.  “Don’t you dare say it.  You have nothing to be sorry for.”  The look you shoot him is resolute–not shaken or upset, like he’d thought it would be.  “You weren’t the one that decided to use my back as your own personal ashtray.”
You watch as a quiet, seething sort of rage passes over Kirishima.  It manifests itself as tension, spanning every inch of his body.  Furrowed eyebrows, stiff muscles, downturned lips–all the nonverbal language that you knew too well.  On him though, all of it looked wrong.
“Who–”  He stops himself.  Old names were useless–fixating on the past was useless.  The future was all that mattered now.
Kirishima breathes heavily, gritting his teeth.  “I would never.”
“I know.”  You hush him, intertwining your fingers with his.  
“I’ll keep you safe.”  He clarifies.  The sheer intensity of his gaze is enough to send a wave of warmth shooting down your spine.
It wasn’t the first time he’d made that sweet, impossible promise–the same pretty lie that others had used so many times before to try and soothe your fears, end your nightmares, purchase your trust.  The difference was, with Kirishima, you really believed that he believed those words.
Maybe in time, you’d begin to believe them too.
You burrow yourself into his chest.  While you’re breathing in his scent, relishing in his embrace, one phrase reverberates through your thoughts–persistent, like a gnat that refuses to be ignored.  One phrase, composed of three short words.  Words that you’d sworn off saying so many years ago.  Words that you’d so been sure you could never profess in good faith.  Now, they just seemed to fit.  
Another day, you muse, shutting your eyes.
And just like that, Kirishima wiggles his way past another one of your walls.
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chrome-mind · 6 years ago
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Angel Wings
Summary: Not everyone wants to go along with Angel’s plan. Note everyone wants to lose a friend.
Warning(s): Character Death
“Hey Angel, you listening in? Angel?”
“Yes… sorry.”
“Nah, just wanted to talk to you anyways.”
“Really?”
“Of course.”
    You shifted the Jakobs sniper rifle in your arms uneasily. Something was wrong. The sick sense of dread was creeping in as you finally neared the Core with the other Vault Hunters. The BNK3R had been an unexpected surprise, but even after it’s destruction it caused you worry. Jack was putting a lot of effort into defending this place. Sure the Vault Key was there, but if his ever increasingly hostile ECHOs were anything to go by, this was something more personal. He was getting desperate.
“Hey Angel, why are you helping me- well, us.”
“Pandora needs your help, it needs a hero like you.”
    “Angel… what exactly is in here besides the vault key?” you asked hesitantly. “Me.” the response was instantaneous, but not enlightening. “Alright, but why are you in here?” your expression turned worrisome “What are you doing in there?” One of the other Vault Hunters moved forward towards the voice recognition, the weird alien looking one, waiting for Angel’s instructions.
“The password is: I love you.”
“What’s life like for you? There’s no way you could actually be an AI.”
“You… catch on very quick.”
“Do you live on Pandora?”
“Not exactly.”
“Helios, then?”
“It’s rather complicated.”
    With the voice modulator, the door was soon open. You were the first to enter, peering warily over your now raised gun “Angel?”
“Consider this your final warn-- no, consider this MY final warning. Turn around and I promise I'll make it quick. But I swear, you take one more step, every soul back in Sanctuary will die staring at their own lungs as I rip them from their chests.” Handsome Jack threatened viciously, all previous signs of arrogance wiped away.
“Hey Angel?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
“Jack acquired his Siren catalyst a long time ago. He kept her hidden from the world for years, but finally -- you will be able to set her free.” Angel continued speaking as if he didn’t exist at all. “Eridium alone could never charge the Vault Key. It needs a catalyst -- something to awaken its power. It needs... a Siren.” the elevator you had stepped into, which you would embarrassingly admit you did not notice was an elevator, let alone that it had begun moving, was starting to slow down.
“What are we doing here Angel?” your voice was starting to sound more forceful, your anxiousness getting the better of you. She seemed intent on ignoring your questions “I detect you're getting close. Hurry and reach me -- you must get the Vault Key and... deal with me.” “Angel.” The elevator stopped.
“Executing phase shift.” she spoke again “The Key is here, but…” the sense of dread you had was resurfacing the more she spoke. The ECHO she had been using since the first time she had spoken was fading as you and the Vault Hunters got closer. “To truly stop Jack from waking the Warrior, you cannot just steal the Vault Key -- you must destroy his catalyst.”
“You must destroy…”
The girl who has only been a repetitive video feed of a face on your ECHO, whose been the voice in your ear since the beginning of this mess, appeared. You looked over her form warily, it looked worn down. Hopeless. “...me.”
“What. I did not do all of this just to kill you!” you burst out angrily. From the corner of your vision you saw the other Vault Hunters shift. You did not know if it was from discomfort or if they were preparing for a fight. Sad blue eyes stared at you “Jack's spent years pumping me full of Eridium, using me to charge his Key and manipulate his enemies.” you couldn’t tell if she was trying to make it seem like it would be worth it to do this, but all you could do was sit in your frustration as she spoke. “Destroying the Eridium injectors that keep me... alive... will stop the Key from charging. And it will end a lifetime of servitude. Now--” She was suddenly yanked back, away from you and the others.
“You get the hell away from MY DAUGHTER!” Jack yelled angrily, even as Angel screamed. You rushed forwards immediately to follow after her, not even waiting for the rest “What the hell are you doing?! ANGEL?!” He seethed, still out of view. You finally set eyes on the Core itself, the machine that was holding Angel in place. The Vault Key. “What the hell is this?” you said aloud, horrified. “Stopping you, you piece of--” Angel cuts herself off, though Jack responds anyway. “Rrgh -- language!”
“The Eridium injectors! Destroy them!” Angel shouted. The siren Vault Hunter was quick to raise her gun and aim at the injectors. “No!” You shouted, slapping the gun in her hands away from the injectors. This gave Jack the chance to raise shields over the mechanisms. “What are you doing?!” Angel looks at you desperately, hands raised but not touching the barrier around her. “You can’t be serious!” You’re sure Jack is watching your every move now “How is this the only way?!” “I’m-” “You were put in that machine, don’t you dare tell me you can’t be taken out!”
Angel looks so sad now, but it looks odd. No. Not sadness. Pity. The other Vault Hunters are wearing the same expression as they watched you, gun raised. “I’m sorry.” she speaks softly “There isn’t.”
You realize her odd pity was also bitter. She wanted to live, but knew she couldn’t. You let out an agonized laugh. “We’ve been through a lot of shit that we didn’t expect to live through, this isn’t much different.” Even as you talked, your gaze flicked all over the room for something, anything.
“I’m sorry soldier.” Roland said through the ECHO.
“No you’re not,” you spat harshly “You’ve been ready to do this since the beginning.” “Look, kid, we can’t let you risk everything for one person.” Lilith decided to put out unkindly. You threw your ECHO comm on the ground, cracking it against the hard floor.
“You, Vault Hunter.” Handsome Jack spoke up. Everyone in the room turned to face at least one of the screens. He pointed at you, an uncharacteristic frown on his face. “If you protect my baby girl- if you let her live, I’ll pay you more than anyone could give you on Pandora.” he said seriously, almost desperately. You sneered at him after only a moment of silence “I’m not doing shit for you. She’s not dying, but she sure as hell isn’t staying here.” The CEO’s features darkened and you could see Angel’s pained expressions from the side of your vision. The first wave of loaderbots began materializing in The Core.
You lifted your gun to aim at whoever attacked first, the loaderbots or the Vault Hunters.
A sudden blow to the back of the head made you stagger and drop. You instinctively turned your body over to face whatever had hit you, your eyes met the blank mask of the assassin. On the ground, your ECHO still crackled, Lilith's voice filtering through. “Sorry kid, we can’t let you screw this up.”
Your ears rang and you let your head drop onto the ground with gritted teeth. Consciousness wavered for who knows how long, the sounds of guns firing and going off reaching your ears at random intervals. You were sure that the loaderbots had stepped over you a couple of times. In a moment of clarity, you gripped the gun that still lay in your hands, somehow never being knocked out of your grasp while you were incapacitated. You shakily raised the gun towards a panel on the side of one of the Hyperion made constructors. With a deep breath, your arm steadied and your finger pulled the trigger.
The shot almost missed, nicking the panel only just enough to do what you wanted. The constructor began materializing more loaderbots, faster than it should have now that the regulator had been damaged. Loaderbots seemed to stream from the constructor now. You did not get the chance to see if they had overpowered the other Vault Hunters as your awareness finally failed you.
-
When you awoke, it was silent. You were afraid to open your eyes. When you did, you wished you had kept them closed and just lied there for eternity. The sparking and scattered pieces of loaderbots littered the room, the gun arm of one of them had fallen on you sometime after its destruction. Picking yourself up with shaky limbs, you scanned what was left of the room.
Angel’s body laid limpy against what used to be The Core, Eridium pools surrounding the structure. You hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye.
These thoughts plagued you as you stared at the broken figure of what used to be Handsome Jack. He was still alive, but barely. The Vault Hunters had left him to bleed out, or get eaten by one of Pandora’s wildlife. Whichever came first. All you had to do to retrace the other Vault Hunters steps was follow the trail of dead bodies. The corpse of The Warrior lay half submerged in the lava.
“You could have let her go. You should have let her go.” there was no emotion in your voice as you sat in front of the man, hands resting on your knees.The former CEO simply stared at you bitterly. His mask had been taken by the Vault Hunters, the mark of the vault in plain sight. He remained silent, even as he bled to death only feet away from an Anshin hypo. You stayed there until the Rakk’s began to circle overhead.
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wolfbro92 · 5 years ago
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rip yall I'm on mobile and do not know how this app works. anywho please enjoy this snippet of oc feels that will mean jackshit to yall but I made me cry so whatever.
Trigger warning time: Blood, Choking, coughing do to illness but its magic, Avalanches, self destructive behaviors, purple prose, and yearning.
I know this isnt how tags work work but shh
#ocs #yearning #hurt and comfort #the gay shit #mopper #uncut, untamed, and unedited
Mikely shifted the ax that sat heavey in his hands. Rolling the stiffness out of his shoulders as he listened to the distant rumbling of an avalanche. It subsided soon enough, it's distance making it a non-theat to anything he cared about, and so, he was left to his thoughts and to his wood splittinng.
ca thunk
thunk
crack
A new chunk of log placed on the stump
ca thunk
thunk
crack
And another, and another, and another after it.
Mikely lost himself in the simple motion, the exertion and the ache beginning to form in his arms were a pleasant distraction from his thief's proposition.
He couldn't give up on his role. He couldn't let all of those who rely on him for safety come to harm through his inaction. He couldn't go back on his word.
Copper's voice echoed through his head, the awful fairy who haunted his thoughts had offered to whisk him away. His stupid smile and kind eyes had disarmed him, made him vulnerable to the idea. "Come explore with me, I can take you anywhere, show you anything."
"show me a way to keep them all safe while I'm away." he had gritted through his teeth as Copper's kind hands laced golden magic under his skin, healing the gash that had started this awful argument.
"They can protect themselves, there are many fine and strapping folk down there. Any one of them could learn whatever they need to to try and fill your shoes," Copper's hands had soothed over his shoulders, "Besides how many people have you already saved, my hero? how many more must you save till you except it as enough? When will you have earned rest?"
"You know when." Mikely had leaned back into his chest and closed his eyes, ignoring the way the massive creature's hands had stilled before looping his arms around him a little too tight. A little too possessive.
"Why? please help me understand Starlight, Why must you give everything for people who scorn you?"
"Because I couldn't save them all."
"Of course you couldn't! You're just one man! My dear, you're brilliant in so many ways, and I refuse to accept you are stupid enough to genuinely believe you could do what even the gods can't!" Copper had turned him around in his arms, holding him like he might break, concern and hurt and emotions Mikely did not have a name for paled his stripes.
mikely had shoved him away, the spring in his gut coiling him tighter and tighter until he felt he would explode. "Well I should have been able too!" he stood from the bed pulling his bloodied tunic back over his head as he stormed out of the room. Copper was a coward, he always ran at the first sign of danger, so Mikely didn't know why he had expected him to understand.
ca thunk
thunk
crack
ca thunk
crack
thunk
He buried the ax in the stump with one overly forceful swing. He was panting and the hurt in his chest was returning just thinking about that awful conversation. He let go of the well worn handle and rubbed callused hands over his sweaty face, panting and pacing away from the stump for a few steps as he forced his emotions back into the box he kept them in.
"Mikely!" Metock's urgent voice pulled him out of his head. she was running and she looked frantic in a way Mikely had only seen a handful of times in their shared lifetimes, "There's something wrong with Copper," she bent at the waist panting as she desperately tried to catch her breath and convey this message, "He collapsed and I dont think he can breathe. I'm going to go find a physician in town." she took of down the hill leaving Mikely in a daze of blurry emotion.
Before he was even fully aware of what he was doing, his legs were carrying him back to the house, he heard Nulk shouting and something big coughing and gasping.
The ache in his legs didn't stop him as he rounded the corner into the sitting room as fast as they could carry him.
Nulk was shaking Copper, calling to him as the massive fae knelt bent over and heaving. Mikely knelt beside them looking to nulk for any explanation as he wrapped an arm over coppers back in desperate attempt to steady him.
"He was fine! and then he just froze and started coughing, he said he was okay but then he collapsed and it's still getting worse," they looked over to Mikely, desperate for guidance. "What do we do?" their voice was quiet and panicked hoarse.
Copper was the only one among them with any sort of medical training.
Mikely just pulled him closer, his stomach flipped as Copper's coughing turned to gagging, an awful clicking noise rattling from the back of his throat. His stripes were white with panic in a way he would normally try to hide.
Copper gasped as he grabbed for Mikely's hand and pulled it to his throat. He heaved as he turned to Mikely, eyes pleading as his hands fumbled Mikely's into a facsimile of choking.
Mikely stared wide eyed, his careful mask shattered by all of this. was copper dying? Mikely's mind ran blank as copper asked him to choke him out.
Copper's grip on his hand tightened it against his neck as he convulsed with another fit of coughing, his spit black with his own blood.
Mikely nodded and moved his hands into place, pushing on the underside of Copper's jaw and collapsing his trachea enough to cut off what little air he was getting. As he faded, copper struggled on pure instinct, too weak to do much other than writhe as he heaved and coughed himself into unconsciousness.
As soon as he stilled Mikely let go, his breathing evening out as he slept, hoarse and wheezing, but no longer choking.
"Help me get him to bed." Mikely said, hoping his voice wasn't as shaky as he felt.
nulk nodded and stood with Mikely, shifting to be larger than him. Mikely helped loop Copper's arms over their shoulders and followed close behind as nulk mostly dragged the fairy to the nearest bedroom.
Mikely shoved open the door for them and helped them situate copper on the sheets. Not thinking, just doing as his blood roared in his ears. He pulled a chair over to the edge and sat himself down, ready for what he felt would be a long sentinel.
Nulk mumbled something about going to go find Metock as they shuffled out of the room, leaving Mikely with his thoughts and with his guilt.
Metock and the physician came and went, he said something about how Copper seemed perfectly fine but he had no idea what he was and so 'fine' was a relative term in this situation.
Mikely waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Nulk brought two cups of tea to the room, both sat cold now.
Metock came in and sat on the edge if the bed and chatted idly with, mostly with herself, for a moment and then left again.
And Mikely waited.
He hated waiting.
I left him with too much time to focus on the growing fear that his last words to Copper might have been him snapping at him, and it was making his insides feel like they were full of rust and sludge.
Mikely knew on a practical level that Copper cared for him and went out of his way to help him, more so than anybody else. He knew Copper had just been trying to protect him from himself, as much as Mikely hated to admit he needed it.
And, he knew that his own feelings for the man weren't as complicated as he desperately wanted them to be.
As Mikely sat there listening to the creaking of the house and the near silent breathing of the fairy beside him, And as he watched to slow rise and fall of Copper's chest and the way his lips quircked up in a silently dream filled snarl and how his hands flex against the bed, and as his mind filled the quiet spaces with coughing, Mikely felt something in him break for the last time.
He loved copper so so much, he wanted to be with him, and despite all good logic going against it, copper seemed to love him back, and Mikely was done denying that the best part of his day was curling up next him and burying his face in the sweet scented expanses of grey and red skin. He was done pretending he was indifferent to the little stones and bits of broken glass and shell left on his desk. He was done refusing His Fairy's affection.
He was done denying himself a happy ever after.
As Mikely sat back in his chair he knew there would only be a short period of time he would get Copper to himself, he knew the fairy would grow tired of him as soon as he got to old to be beautiful enough for him. He knew Copper's home would call him away soon enough and that Copper would leave him on this side of the hill.
Mikely knew it wouldn't be long before Copper realized he could do so much better somewhere else, and he planned to make full use of whatever time he hadn't already wasted.
And so he waited.
As the sun was creeping in under the curtains, Coper began to stir. He shifted and for a brief moment Mikely feared the coughing was going to return as Copper cleared his throat. As he stretched and sluggishly drifted back to the land of the awake he coughed under his breath every few seconds.
Though, Mikely was grateful it was more of a 'tail end of a particularly nasty head cold' type cough than the 'Oh god Oh god is he dying' type of choking it had been yesterday.
"Morning Sunlight" He said as he rolled over in the bed to lay on his stomach, pillowing his head on his forarms
"Care to explain yesterday?"
"hmm-" Copper yawned as he turned his head to face Mikely, "Nah, I think I'm good," He smirked.
"Copper, you Scared us. You dont get to brush this off." His voice was quiet, which unfortunately undercut his normally harsh tone.
Copper buried his face into the crook of his arm and groaned, "Its… its complicated, ok? Can I explain later?" His hair raised as he made a face into his sleeve, "Plus, I really need a bath and to go change…"
"Ok, let's go."
"Was that you inviting yourself into my bath?" He threw a mock offended expression in Mikely's direction.
"Yes." He said while getting to his feet.
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the-marvel-imagines-blog · 6 years ago
Text
Madness | Chpt. 6
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Requests are Open
Chapter Title: “Collateral Damage”
Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character
Word Count: 4,786
Warnings: hurt/no comfort, Angry!Eva, violence, Angry!Loki
Name Pronunciations: Hjalmar: “He-all-mar” | Aaldir: “All-deer” | Ephinea: “Eh-fin-ee-uh”
A/N: I want to take a moment to apologize for my absence. I’ve had some health problems recently, and within the last couple of weeks, I’ve lost entire days thanks to said problems. I’m finally feeling well enough again to post, but during my time being sick, I’ve managed to come up with quite a bit of content. Thank you so much for reading and enjoying what I’m writing. Even if not every chapter is you cup of tea, it means a lot to see that people are leaving likes, messaging me, reblogging, etc.! Please note that I have taken and will be taking a lot of creative liberties pertaining to these characters. This will be shown in excess during the upcoming chapters, so I just wanted to give a bit of a warning. There are some timeline changes, character changes, etc. Once again, thank you so much for reading. I love you all <3
Tagged: @teddyboobear @alledeglyfunny (anyone who wants to be tagged can message me and ask. It’s not a problem at all)
“Looks like you lost,” I dictated as I dragged him down the stairs to the dungeons. My entire body felt like it was on fire, but it didn’t stop the shiver from running down my spine at the thought of what he was capable of. Ezra showed us something none of us could’ve expected. He was skilled in ways that we were unprepared for, ways I didn’t even know could exist. I still trembled at the thought of my slain comrades-members of Odin’s kingsguard-rising and fighting against us. The more people of ours Ezra killed, the more people he had fighting for him. The battle was unfair and horrific, but we still won even after members of the kingsguard forced Odin away from the situation. Ezra had surrendered after we had gotten him onto his knees. My sword had been pressed against his throat, and all I needed to do was give it one swift motion to kill him. I couldn’t, though.
There was something that kept me from killing him, but I had no idea what it was. Maybe it was the familiarity in those green eyes or the endless knowledge he seemed to have about me. Still, my decision to keep him alive could be useful in the future of Asgard. He was another enemy who would be a prisoner in the dungeons, a man we could retrieve information from. He snickered at me, “you may have won, but what did it cost you?” he asked, glancing down at the wound on my abdomen.
I ignored his comment, feeling the pain radiating from the wound. During the battle, he had taken a swing at Ephinea, a blow I did my best to protect her from. I had pushed her back and tried to put as much distance between him and I as possible, but it wasn’t enough. My sword blocked his axe, and while I struggled to disarm him, I was unaware of the dagger he pulled out until he buried it in my abdomen. The dagger cut right through my training armor-which had not been suitable for battle-and pierced into my flesh. I had not yet seen it, but a piece of me was convinced it was nothing while the rational part of myself was sure it was something much more than I was prepared to deal with. If I could still walk, I was fine.
Behind Ezra and I were the remaining members of the kingsguard who did not sustain significant injuries as well along with Ephinea, Sif, and the warriors three. Thor had taken to the throne room with his father to discuss what would come next. Everyone in the dungeons was silent when they saw the crowd of warriors that it took to secure the newest prisoner. They watched us in a stunned silence, including Loki. I avoided all eye contact with the God of Mischief, still hurt by his actions an entire week ago. While I wished for an empty cell anywhere else in the dungeons, the only free one was directly across from Loki’s, which would undoubtedly cause me to worry much more than I should have. The cells were practically impenetrable, and even if Ezra managed to break free of his cell, there would be no real reason for him to go after Loki.
As we stood in front of his cell, he turned to face me as I spoke, “this is gonna be your new home. I don’t know where you came from or what you knew before this, but you won’t be going back there anytime soon. You said you haven’t seen a sunrise for more than 300 years?” I asked, and he nodded his head, a grin forming on his lips in anticipation for what I was about to say, “well, be prepared to wait another 300 because you aren’t getting out of here for a long time,” I growled, glaring up at him and his apathetic expression. It was as if he had no remorse at all for the lives he had taken, like the entire battle before this meant nothing to him. His reaction was sickening.
He cocked one of his thick eyebrows, “you have a fire within you that you try to ignore, pet, but you can’t hide it from me,” he replied before lunging forward and attacking my lips with his. It shocked me at first, but I leaned into it after a moment, realizing that I could use it to my advantage. Everyone around us who was there to ensure his safe transportation to his cell was left in shock, but they always knew that I had a plan. My lips molded together with his thick ones, and while I was disgusted to be kissing the man who just killed so many of my people, I knew that this was going to work out in my favor. While Ezra was distracted by the kiss, I eased one of my daggers from its sheath at my side and reached behind him before sinking it into his lower back.
He sucked in a sharp breath, disconnecting our lips. His face distorted in pain, and his chest rumbled as I pulled the dagger from his body, twisting it in the process. Once it was out, I dropped it on the ground behind him and reached into the small pouch on my belt to pull out one of the tracking devices I always carried with me. In one swift motion, I shoved two of my fingers into the wound to deposit the tracking device as deeply as possible. He grunted and twisted to break free of my grasp, but I would not release him. I released the tracking device once I was sure it was embedded deep enough that he could not feel it and dig it out on his own. When I finally removed my fingers, I rested my hand against his wound and focused all of my energy on transferring it over to myself. That was the one downfall of my healing power. I was unable to heal someone without transferring their wounds onto myself. While he was not worthy of my help, I couldn’t leave the wound open for fear that he would just pull the device out. Now, it he wanted to take it out, he would have to cut himself open and dig for it.
As the wound transferred to myself, I gritted my teeth, but nothing could compare to the wound on my abdomen. It was like if one had been stabbed by Surtur himself, a scraped knee could never compare to it, so the pain was far more tolerable. Once I finished healing his wound, I glared up at him, “you’re going to have a lot of time to think while you’re down here, and that’s all you get to do. If you move, I’ll know about it. If you speak, I’ll know about it. If you have any thoughts about breaking out of your cell, I will know about it. I didn’t kill you today because I believe in second chances. If you fail to cooperate or if you become a threat to anyone I know or love, I will not hesitate to kill you,” I growled at him.
He nodded his head, “my execution would be against the Allfather’s wishes. It’s a beautiful sentiment-it truly is-but...tell me, pet, how will you protect the two people you love most when one is here and one is on Midgard?” he asked, referencing her once more.
My eyes widened, and he smirked at the look of dread that was clear on my face. I saw my reflection in his eyes and saw a girl who had everything to lose, someone who had lost so much already. As my protective instincts kicked in, I grew furious that he even put their safety in question. I pulled my fist back and landed a hard punch against his cheek. When his head snapped to the side to accommodate the blow, I swiped his feet out from under him to bring him down to the ground. As he caught himself on his knees, I pulled out my other dagger and pressed it against his throat with one hand while I grabbed a fistful of his hair with the other. I squatted down to be at his level, “say it again,” I growled.
He smirked, “and what if I did? What if I threatened them again?” he asked, challenging me, “would you kill me, an unarmed man on his knees? Would you take my life the same way your enemies took your friends life on Vanaheim? You and I both know that you don’t have what it takes,” he hissed, bringing up Hjalmar. My chest tightened, “the only way to save the ones you love so dearly is to accept your destiny, to accept what you’re truly meant to be.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, “and what is that?”
“A god,” he answered with a smile as he leaned into my blade against his throat, “just like me.”
I shook my head, my entire body trembling as anger and rage built up in my chest, “I am nothing like you,” I growled, furious that he would even try to compare the two of us. He fought and killed so many of my people and raised them back to be monsters. What was it for? I only fought when it needed to be done. I didn’t seek out confrontation. I fought, and even killed, the few who put the lives of the many at stake, and it always sat with me. The eyes of my victims never left my mind, for I was aware that I had taken someone’s loved one away from them. Ezra showed in the short time I knew him that he was nothing like that. He killed without remorse, and I saw no conflict in his eyes once it was over. We were nothing alike.
He chuckled, “that’s where you’re wrong, pet. You and I are more alike than you know, and that’s how I know, without the shadow of a doubt, that you’ll lose both of them in time,” he said, and my heart felt like it would fall through the floor. How did he know all of my deepest and darkest fears? That was always the one thing that scared me the most: losing the ones I loved. Of course, it was the fear of so many people, but he was able to pull up the two people I cared for more than anything else and use their safety against me, “it’s in your nature. You’ll always lose,” he added.
My chest rose and fell as I struggled to find air. It felt like his threats were taking the air from my lungs, and I felt like I would suffocate. I saw how big a threat he was, but we managed to bring him down together. I didn’t want to imagine what Cul’s entire army could do. Everything had been thrown at us so quickly, as we had no knowledge of who Cul was or that Odin even had an older brother at all. Everything that happened that day just made me feel uncertain of everything. Still, I couldn’t show Ezra that, “and what about you? You’re the man who kneels before me with my dagger against his throat. You lost,” I hissed.
“You’ll need me soon enough,” he remarked, gesturing down to the stab wound on my abdomen that throbbed with a pain I never experienced before. The wound hurt badly enough that it felt like I would be sick from the pain. I had been stabbed before, and the wounds never felt quite like that. Perhaps, it had just been too long, and I forgot the sensation. I shook the thoughts from my mind and focused on him once more as he continued, “and the moment you come to me, begging for my help, is the moment when you’ll finally realize that you are the one who has lost,” he sneered, his eyes cutting right through me. It was like he could see every weakness and insecurity I had.
“If you or anyone else tries hurt the people I care for, you won’t be able to find shelter from the storm I unleash. You don’t want to make me an enemy,” I threatened him.
He shook his head as if he was disappointed in me, and I furrowed my eyebrows. When his eyes finally met mine once more, he snickered to himself, “you speak like a warrior, but there is no true weight in your words. I know-as well as you do-that you would never pose a threat to the one thing you believe in more than anything else: Life. That’s why I know you won’t kill me. I’m not afraid of you,” he stated, nonchalantly as he leaned into the blade, hard enough to draw blood.
I stood up, sheathing my dagger, before pulling him up onto his feet. He stood much taller than me, but I didn’t feel small in that moment. Even though I was insecure about what would come next, I couldn’t show my fears to the man who was threatening the lives of the people I loved. I needed to be strong, or he would take advantage of my weaknesses. I grabbed a fistfull of his hair and pulled his head down to mine, maintaining eye contact the entire time, “you aren’t afraid of me,” I hissed before leaning in to his ear, “but you should be,” I whispered the line I had been told only once before. It had shaken me to the very core when it was said to me, but I felt powerful now that I was on the other end. My voice was low enough so that only he could hear me, and once I finished, I pulled away from him and shoved him into his cell. Ephinea activated the cell wall before he was even able to regain his balance. I couldn’t help the smile as I watched him struggle to not fall onto his face, but the sharp pain in my abdomen cut that short.
Not wanting to waste anymore time on him, I turned to face the members of the Kingsguard. They were some of the most well-trained warriors Asgard had to offer, so much so that they were trusted with protecting the Allfather himself. The kingsguard lined the halls of the palace at all times of the day and night, and they stood guard over the dungeons as well. I picked up my blood-covered dagger that I had dropped on the floor moments prior and lowered it back into its sheath. I pointed over at Ezra but stayed focused on the warriors before me, “I want two guards posted outside his cell every second of every day. I never want him left unsupervised, and if he is, you’re going to wish that you experienced the Allfather’s wrath instead of mine,” I threatened, feeling my unchecked fury rising further and further in my chest. I surprised myself at the harsh tone of my voice, but I didn’t change it, “if he shows any signs of agitation, I want to know about it. If he takes one step out of line, I want to know about it. If he breathes offbeat, I want to know about it. I want every detail of his existence to be monitored while he’s down here. I want nothing to go unnoticed. If he speaks out of line, I want to know what he said and when he said it. Do you understand?”
I saw the startled expression on every face of the men before me. I had always been known for my calm and collected nature, and the only time I ever broke away from that was when I was in battle. Even then, I had never been so ruthless, especially never with them. They all nodded in agreement to my orders, but one of the guards stepped forward, his eyes just as confused as the rest, “I mean you no offense when I ask this, but...what would you do about it, my lady?”
As I brushed past all of them, needing to take my place with Thor and Odin to discuss our next moves, I answered his question, “I’ll kill him.”
Before I could make it very far at all, Ezra yelled after me, “good luck, pet. I take pity on you for what is about to come,” he shouted, that booming voice echoing throughout the silent dungeons. It was as if every prisoner stood completely still as I walked by-all but one. As I walked past Loki’s cell, I stared straight ahead, refusing to even look his way, still hurt by what transpired between us a week prior. It broke my heart to ignore him that way, but I had to focus on the safety of the Nine Realms. A piece of it was also to protect him. If there was a chance I could convince Ezra that I no longer cared for Loki, that Loki wasn’t a weakness of mine that he could exploit, I was going to take it. It was the best way to protect Loki at that point.
As I walked past his cell, he banged on the wall, yelling my name and trying to attract my attention, but I still didn’t give in. I blinked away the tears in my eyes, my heart shattering as I had to look the other way once more. I did that before, and I couldn’t believe I was doing it again. I was still hurt and angry at him for what he said when I visited him that night, but I could never stay mad at him for too long, not over trivial things like that. Even as I ascended the stairs, I could still hear his pained voice calling my name. My ears began ringing, and the world around me seemed unsteady. When I reached the last few stairs, the wound on my abdomen sent a piercing pain through my entire body, and I jolted forward to accommodate the sudden and intense pain. If Loki had seen me fall as I had in that moment, he would’ve laughed at me before falling down with me, not wanting me to feel isolation and embarrassment. I coughed, and the fleeting thoughts of my love were pushed to the side as I tasted the blood in my mouth. I swallowed it back just as the guards ran over to me to help me up, just like Loki would have done.
*Loki’s POV*
I felt the immeasurable pain that she was experiencing, and I couldn’t help but feel like there was something seriously wrong. That was one of the things that never stopped for me, no matter how deep my madness became. She was still there, an untouched and untainted beauty among the raging wildfire that was my mind. I could always feel her pain, her suffering, her joy, and her love. I could feel every emotion and every ounce of physical pain, which Thanos used to his advantage. While it killed me inside to know that she was hurting, it let me know that she was still alive, wherever she was. This sensation was something new, though. I could barely stand due to the pain in my abdomen. Even when she had transferred his wound onto herself, it couldn’t hold a candle to the pain I began experiencing no long before.
Everyone began filing out of the dungeons aside from the two guards Eva demanded always stand watch over the new prisoner. I had never seen Eva deal with anyone quite like that, but he must’ve made her feel something otherworldly to pull out that side of her. Watching it was exhilarating in a way that I never would’ve expected. I could feel the anger and pain coursing through her veins every moment she stood before him, but I could also feel her conflict. When he mentioned two people-one here and one on Midgard-I found myself trying to piece together who it could be. Perhaps he was speaking about Aaldir or Thor. I was certain she cared little for me after what I did the last time we saw each other. The unnamed person on Earth was what I tried to piece together first, though. Was it Tony Stark? I noticed that the two of them had quite the connection when I was around them on Midgard. What if it was the Soldier? The two of them shared similar beliefs, and he had protected her from near death quite a few times.
When another piercing pain erupted in my abdomen, I gritted my teeth and grunted, reaching for the tender spot. As I tried to breathe through the pain, I heard his laughter from the cell diagonal to mine, “you must be Loki!” he smiled, amused at my pain. I knew that madness well, well enough to know that it was not all his own. Someone had taken advantage of a weakness and used it against him. A small part of me felt empathy for him, but I couldn’t help but think of how he must’ve hurt Eva. As I glared up at him, he cocked his head to the side, “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m a pretty big fan because of what you did on Midgard-you know, attempting to kill everyone who wouldn’t blindly follow your rule. I have to say that it was a bold move for the unloved son of a false king,” he barked before taking a deep breath and calming his nerves, “I’m Ezra Culson, the new bane of Eva’s existence. You’ve been replaced.”
“What did you do to her?” I yelled, anxious to know what had transpired to bring about a pain like this. Before Ezra pointed out the wound on her abdomen, it was barely noticeable, especially since she showed little signs of discomfort while she was in the dungeons. Still, shortly before she came down to the dungeons, I had felt the intense pain, and I knew she had been stabbed. This sensation, however, was so different than before. When we were on Midgard, I...she had been stabbed. That was nothing like this. I grunted as I stood up straight, trying to ignore the burning sensation.
Ezra shook his head, a hint of guilt in his eyes that didn’t seem completely genuine, “I didn’t come here to fight-not today, anyway-but when Odin refused to my terms and your brother refused my offer to take Eva off your hands, I had no choice. She got in the way,” he said, nonchalantly as he shrugged it off like it was nothing. Even the guards outside of his cell were disturbed. Everyone in Asgard knew Eva, and everyone knew that she was the embodiment of all that was good and light in this world. Ezra acted as if his action of attacking her was nothing serious, like attacking her wasn’t like he was attacking the very fabric of life itself. During my stunned silence, he continued to speak, “let’s just say that you’re not the only one who has it out for Odin.”
“I couldn’t care less about him. You hurt her!” I snapped, slamming my fist against the cell wall and startling the guards and the other prisoners within the dungeons. Ezra would have a hard time in the dungeons because no matter how much the other prisoners hated Odin and Asgard, they could not bring themselves to even speak unkindly of Eva. The longer the prisoners stayed in the dungeons, the more they grew accustomed to her singing, and because Eva showed the planet so much love and kindness, everyone who resided here could feel her energy coursing through them. Her connection to the world and life was incredible. As my chest tightened, I glared at him, “you hurt her, and I’m going to kill you for that,” I growled in a low voice.
He shrugged it off again, “collateral damage,” he remarked, “it’s nothing that can’t be undone. When she gives in and leaves with me, which she will, I’ll heal her, and we’ll be on our way.”
“She’s not going anywhere with you!” I yelled once more, realizing that he was doing exactly what he wanted to do, and I was allowing it to happen. He was crawling right under my skin, and I couldn’t stop it. It was like Thanos all over again. Ezra just knew my weakness, and he was going to exploit it. He would try to break me, but I wouldn’t lose Eva again, and that was what kept me from falling back into the comfort of my own darkness.
He chuckled, “I have a better claim to her even as an outsider, or did you forget?” he asked, and my eyes widened as it felt like my chest would completely cave in. He couldn’t have been referencing that moment, but it wouldn’t surprise me with all that he knew about Eva and myself. A part of me wished to know where he acquired this information, but the part that took hold of me in that moment was still the nervous and insecure man I was before I fell from the Bifrost, before I pushed Eva out of my life, before I realized that I would never truly be my father’s son. I could still remember Odin’s words as if our conversation was happening that very moment:
“A girl who could pass as a princess even without a prince would be better suited for Thor, and I will not entertain these childish games any longer!”
It was the first moment in my life that I felt utterly hopeless. All that I had done up until that moment seemed like it was in vain. I had loved Eva, and she loved me. When she forced me to relive that memory in the dream, I couldn’t help but associate it with the conversation that followed with my father. He had been the one to pull me from our beautiful moment, our last beautiful moment. Our conversation was meant to open the doors for millions of other beautiful moments, but he slammed those doors in my face, telling me that I would never be worthy enough for Eva, that she was being saved for Thor. It was the beginning of my downfall, and she was the one who was hurt most from it.
While my chest heaved, I imagined ripping his tongue from his throat. I imagined slitting his throat open while he spoke of how Eva was nothing more than “collateral damage.” I imagined his blood on my hands as I tore him apart for what he did to her and for what he tried to do to me. I knew that all he had to do was exploit my weakness, and he would be able to turn me against her. Something in me was broken, and he wanted to toy around with it, “speak one more word, and you’ll wish for death when you see what I do to you,” I threatened, narrowing my eyes at him and realizing just how familiar they looked, like I had seen them a thousand times before. Green...like the color of spring.
He chuckled, sitting on the floor and tucking his legs under himself. It seemed as if he would let my comment roll off his back, but that was the opposite of what he did. Instead, he brought up the one thing I cared about more than anything else. Eva. He grinned, madness in his eyes, “threaten me again, and you’ll wish for death when you see what I do to her.”
Without warning, my mind felt like it was being torn apart, like the broken edges were being chipped away at. As I fell to the floor in a massive pain radiating from the ghost wound on my abdomen and the sudden and intense pain in my own mind, I gritted my teeth and groaned loudly. I could remember her eyes that day, the day I hurt her more than I could ever forgive myself for. I had expected her to look at me like I was a monster, like I was her enemy. However, she didn’t. She spoke my name with fear in her eyes and sorrow in her voice. It was my first moment of clarity in so long, but it was also my greatest moment of weakness and tragedy because I hurt the one thing I wished to protect: my friend, my princess, my love.
My Eva.
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howdoyouspellepiphany · 6 years ago
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The Prophecy (Yoonmin Demon!AU)
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Pairing: Min Yoongi x Park jimin (DemonAU), established namjin
Words: 3671 words
Summary: Long ago, the Divines and Fallens received a prophecy that promises their demise in the hands of a mortal that says:
Beautiful as the creature may be, fire doesn’t burn, ice doesn’t freeze, water doesn’t drown and lightning doesn’t destroy.
Now, the demon prince (Min Yoongi) meets a pink-haired waiter (Park Jimin) who looks like heaven and smells like sin. As their relationship blossom, the Divines and Fallens are beginning to wonder about the prophecy.
Warnings: Crude language, violence and of course, ignorant author
Note: yay i know how to use tumblr now!
Previous chapters: Chapter 1  Chapter 2 Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Jin was pacing across the living room of Yoo Jung’s apartment as his fingers twirl around the pear-shaped ruby necklace that sits elegantly in between his collarbones. He had originally come to the apartment at his lover’s call to receive the present the prince had bought specially for him. Jin thought it was going to be yet another beautiful day spent with his lover in his arms, contented with just holding Namjoon close when Jeongguk called. And just like that, his ephemeral happiness came to an end.
And now, Jin and Namjoon are waiting for Yoongi to return. ‘Should I go?’ Jin’s jaw is tensed and his hazel eyes have taken more of its godly golden hues. Jin’s Divine characteristics will only show whenever he possesses strong emotions. His eyes have completely turned golden as he fiddles with the pendant. He is insanely worried for his best friend for Yoongi is known to make impulsive decisions that may and may not cost everyone their asses. ‘Of course, I should. It’s only right, right?’ He wonders, fingers grabbing the ruby a tad bit too tightly.
             “Yoongi isn’t stupid, you know.” Namjoon mumbles staring at the beautiful male before him, worry etches on his lover’s delicate features. The demon takes the cigarette that was sitting in between his plump lips with his thumb and forefinger and blows the smoke before he looks away. He is equally as worried as his lover. But instead of making a run towards his prince, he hopes Yoongi would seek for his insights before doing anything.
             “You’re right, he isn’t. But he’s known for making rash decisions and he’s someone who acts impulsively. For all you know he has long flown back to Gehenna.” Jin huffs, folding his arms across his chest. Gehenna is the central city of Infernum and is where the castle is located. “Can’t you please go check on him?” Jin stops in his tracks as he looks at Namjoon who is leaning against the railings of the balcony as the demon flicks the ash on the ash tray that looks like a gold dipped leaf.
             “He’s still on Earth. You can feel him, can’t you?” The demon takes another whiff before putting the cigarette off.
             “Yes, but for how long?” The beautiful male with golden eyes looks straight into his lover’s black eyes. He can see his own reflection in Namjoon’s void eyes and looks away. “Things are already bad enough in Gehenna. You heard Styx-noona, didn’t you? He has an army of Aqrabuamelu and Gogmagogs. If Yoongi were to charge head on-“ Jin stops himself as he grabs the pendant harder and digs his nails into his palm with the other hand that is balled up into a fist.
“Then what do you want Yoongi-hyung to do, love?” Namjoon asks, pushing his hair upwards. “Save himself and hide? Should he throw the Fallens away and see his kingdom fall down to ashes?”
“That’s not what I meant.” Jin mumbles.
“I know. But, you can’t expect him to stay idle. Yoongi-hyung isn’t like that.”
“He once was.” Jin argues petulantly and when Namjoon didn’t reply him, Jin knows he’s being childish again. “Okay,” He sighs, frowning. “So, what will happen if Yoongi knows about what happened to Hos-”
             “What will happen if I know about who?” Yoongi asks, perching on the railing of the balcony with his grand wings on display. Namjoon immediately turns around and gives space for his prince to step on the ground. Jin follows suit as the beautiful male crosses his arms across his chest.
“Well, we’re about to find out.” Namjoon mumbles as Yoongi lands on the solid ground and retracts his wings back in. Yoongi had originally looked at Jin for answers but when he sees for a split second the Divine’s eyes turn to the right, Yoongi immediately finds out that Jin is trying to sugar coat it. At that point, in Yoongi’s eyes, Jin is no longer relevant to give him the answers he wants. Therefore, the prince averts his eyes towards his advisor. Namjoon isn’t like his lover. He’s a straight forward man. It’s probably because it’s always better if you don’t try to cover shit up when a problem comes. It makes the solving easier. “So?” The prince asks, greyish blue eyes staring straight into his advisor’s eyes.
             “Hob-ah got stabbed.” Yoongi looks taken aback at the answer but still keeps a tight hold of his breaking façade. Namjoon quickly analyses Yoongi as he chooses his next words carefully. “Guk is currently looking up into the matter but it seems that the perpetrator wasn’t aiming for his vital organs. The incision is deep and it hit his wings so he will need some time to get back on his feet.”
             “Where was he attacked?” Namjoon licks his lower lip as he wonders on how to answer his prince. When his advisor hesitates to answer him, Yoongi presses on. “Namjoon, I’ll ask again.” It was no secret that Yoongi has been livid since he received the call from Guk. First, it’s the bastard in his abode and now Hoseok got slashed. Why does everyone think it’s okay to fuck with him? “Where. The. Fuck did he get stabbed?”
             “Bunga.” Namjoon sees how Yoongi’s eyes change in a matter of seconds and he had never been truly afraid of the prince before him until he witnesses how heavy the air gets almost immediately after. Bunga is a restricted area where ill willed creatures and evil spirits like Sluaghs can’t enter. Yoo Jung have made it so and the barrier had been up for as long as she’s alive and well.
             ‘If Hobi is attacked in Bunga… Shit.’ Yoongi grits his teeth as he tries to let the situation sink in properly. He has too much on his plate at the time and he couldn’t attend to all of them personally. The prince knows he can handle the bastard in his own birth country and his trusted advisor to handle the mermaid in Sweden. “Namjoon,”
“Sweden, right?” His dark pink haired advisor immediately calls Jackson as he patiently explains the change of plans.
And now, who will Yoongi send to check on his mother? He usually sends Hoseok but unfortunately, the angel isnt deemed to be useful at the moment. A certain blonde-haired Divine with hazel eyes should be the next most suitable candidate but the demon knows how much the older man hates returning to his roots. The next most suitable candidate is the prince himself. ‘Is it possible to check on mom before going back to Gehenna?’ Yoongi wonders and purses his lips.  
             “Don’t make such an ugly face, Yoongi.” Jin sighs, hand still twirling the ruby necklace. Kim Seokjin knows that he had done so much for Min Yoongi in the past but nothing he does can ever top the favour Yoongi had made for him; the one that grants him freedom. “I’ll go confirm Queen Yoo Jung’s status. I just need you to promise me to not be fucking stupid and use your head once in a while.” The blonde said without any bite behind it.
“Maybe I am an idiot but are you even aware that you’re serving the wrong king?” The mint-haired mumbles.
“Oh, please.” Seokjin snorts. “Wrong king, right king… Is there even such a thing? If you ever need my insight on this, I think there is no such thing as a right ruler. There is only a ruler who is more humane. So, if you’re telling me to stop, I will refuse. Why? Because I am listening to a ruler who cares about his people. Also, don’t give me a lecture on the whole Hera thing. The old hag can go fuck herself for all I care. There’s nothing wrong in helping you at all. Pushing everything aside, I’m just helping my friend.” The hazel eyed Divine places his hand on Yoongi’s head. If Aphrodite can give pleasure to those she touches, Jin calms them down. “On another hand, please bring Gukkie along with you if you’re planning to go to Gehenna. We don’t know what kind of army the bastard owns so please don’t go alone. Please. Going alone is no different than committing suici-.”
“Alright,” Yoongi sighs, cutting his friend off. “You’re babbling and I understand where you’re coming from.” Yoongi looks up to Jin and closes his eyes in frustration when he sees the worry behind his friend’s clear, golden eyes. “I want results and I dont want you to come back injured.”
“Where’s your fucking trust, Yoongi?” Jin huffs, fingers playing with the ruby pendant. He isn’t confident about this at all. But he’s the only one fit for this job at the moment. He knows it. Yoongi knows it. Namjoon knows it.
“Alright, then. Get me Gukkie.”  
‘I guess Jimin and my banana chocolate milkshake and coffee have to wait.’
             As soon as Jin enters the entrance to Olympus with his see-through pink floral lace shirt and a pair of black trousers and long earrings, he immediately received ‘the glorious’ unwanted attention. He takes off his rose coloured sunglasses with a fancy twirl of his hand before putting them on his fluffy hair. His hazel eyes hold his anxiety behind the fake confidence his form radiates. His plump glittered and glossed lips curls upwards into a smile as he takes in the city he loves so much but never misses. How can he not love Olympus? The place radiates from the most expensive jewels and rocks they make his feet tremble. There are so many beautiful things, they blind his hazel eyes.
             Gold isnt as precious here in Paradisus than it is on Earth. In the city of Olympus, gold aren’t worn as accessories. Instead, they are moulded to be used as a primary ingredient to for a lot of things and some of which are the manors of the Gods and Goddesses, cutleries and toilet seats. Precious metals on earth are only used and utilized in that way. Stones that can be found on Earth usually grace the very ground they walk on. The Divines only wear precious stones found in the land of Paradisus and they are nothing compared to the Cartier Seokjin wears so proudly around his neck. He then thought that maybe he could get either Namjoon or Yoongi to get him upset to get his hands on one of the beautiful diamond earrings he saw which are sold at a highly ridiculous price.
Neverthless, he walks with his head up high; showing it off as he smiles at the way the ruby shines and how it complements his skin tone. He smiles at everyone he crosses paths with politely. Even though they are all judging him with their eyes, Seokjin tries to not let them get to him. One of the children running around has her eyes fixated on him and it warms his heart to see that at least the young don’t judge him. He waves his hand at her as to which she giddily replies back with two hands. When her mother turns to look, Seokjin couldnt explain how mortified and disgusted she was at her daughter for waving at him. “Darling, don’t mix around with someone like that. He is a humiliation to us all.” Seokjin frowns at the ‘subtlety’ before she drags her daughter away.
The little girl, however disregards her mother and continues to wave at him. He gives her a genuine smile as he begins to get hyperaware of the attention he receives just by waving at a little girl. And so, he continued walking down the streets. He isnt even dressed his level best and he couldn’t help but indulge the attention they shower him and the whispers that come with the ogling. ‘Have I really became this handsome to get this kind of attention from everyone?’ he thought smugly even when deep down, he knows that, that isnt the case.
             Kim Seokjin is very used to the looks they throw his way. Their gazes – he noted – have never changed and neither did the content of their loud whispers. ‘Ugh someone please give them a tutorial on how to be subtle.’ He thought bitterly as he shamelessly struts onto Paradisus’s busiest street. The Divines mostly have a colourful vocabulary when it comes to describe Seokjin, Aphrodite’s only son as the latter embraces and welcomes the hatred and disgust in their eyes. It makes him feel welcomed; it makes him feel at home – for his mother has the same pair of eyes as them. He grew up with those eyes.
When he thinks about it… Yoongi and Namjoon are the only two who didn’t look at him like he’s a vile creature who isnt worth taking care of. They look at him the way he had always wanted to be seen – raw and beautiful and thirsty of love. He dare say his thirst is now half quench by the attention and the love Namjoon showered him every night. Every little kiss and touch – all so careful and full of love. Namjoon treated him like he’s fragile – like he’s the most precious stone in Paradisus and again and again he devotes his love for him until Seokjin couldn’t breathe.
And just like that, he becomes prettier with every attention and love.
             As for Yoongi, it was maybe that fateful day where Yoongi beat the other Divine kids up and stood up for him. The prince yelled something about friendships and loyalty. It used to be hilarious in his ears but as Seokjin gets to know the prince, he realised that all Yoongi had ever wanted was to be seen and deemed enough for his father. Yoongi was just like him.
             Seokjin is snapped out of his daydream when a familiar perfume hits his olfactory. The perfume – this wretched flowery scent that is smothering and asphyxiating him means she is close. And she is the reason why he dreaded coming back.
While his wild, fearful eyes roamed the streets, his heart stops when his hazel eyes finally meet her own pair of hazel. The colour and the liquid in their eyes are the same as the mother and son stared at each other from across the street.
             Yoongi and Jeongguk had parted ways the minute they open a portal to Infernum. Yoongi had gone to Gehenna, the central city while Jeongguk went to the Styx River near the Saqar district where Styx and her lover, Acheron resides. As soon as Jeongguk gets there, the heavy air of Infernum begins to take a toll on him. He breaks into fits of cough as he tries to calm his body. His body must have gone into a shock due to change on environment. It isnt because he had spent most of his life on Earth but it’s more like he couldn’t spend the rest of his life in Infernum. Jeongguk has always resented this weak part of him but how can he ever reject the ones who made him?
             When he calmed down, Jeongguk took small and frequent breaths to calm his body down and once it is more familiar with the air, he is finally able to breathe normally again. ‘Baby steps,’ he reminds himself as he makes his way to Styx and Acheron’s love nest. When their small house is in view, Jeongguk jogs slowly towards their house, still being mindful of the limited air he could take in. As soon as the house is in proximity, he hears Styx��s loud screams and without much thinking, Jeongguk bolts towards the door, ignoring the burn in his chest and the ripples of violent coughs that are trying to escape his system.
He had broken the door down when Styx screamed louder only to find her struggling in her lover’s arms. “Hyung, what’s happening?” Jeongguk asks as Acheron keeps a vice grip on his lover’s fluid body. He keeps letting her slip past his fingers and she keeps crying and screaming. It was insanity. It was pure chaos.
“Her eyes were gouged out.” Acheron said to the black-haired boy standing in the middle of his home in a grim voice as he tackles Styx into a hug. “Please, love…” He whispers into her ear in a begging tone. “Please come back to me.” He repeats in the same soothing voice as he rocks her back and forth. “Love, please, listen to me. It’s alright, now. The prince had come. Jeongguk is here, too. No one is going to hurt you anymore.” Styx’s eyes are her weak spot and also her strong spot. She has now turned to water and her eyes are the only thing that she was allowed to keep to witness the oaths taken by the gods and goddesses – Fallens, Divines and everything in between.
And now, it has been taken away from her.
With a final scream, Styx had thrown something away before she passes out. One of the things that she had thrown hit his favourite brown boots. Out of curiosity, he had bend over and taken the peculiar object. His blood turns cold when he realises the object had been her eye. Jeongguk knows for a fact that gotten her eyes ripped off hurt and growing it out hurt even more. The memories that came with it are even worse. “Help Y’ngi.” Styx mumbles in her sleep and Acheron looks at her, pained to leave her side.
“Hyung, go. I’ll stay with her.” Jeongguk said and with a curt nod, Acheron left. Who was he to defy his lover and the prince’s brother? As soon as the Guardian Acheron left, Jeongguk stares at the eyeball in his hand and without hesitation, he pops the eyeball into his mouth.
Yoongi had never once in his life ever thought that he will have to face this situation one day. It is rather hilarious to him that these are the creatures that was once sweeping and cleaning the ground he walks on and now are throwing a rebellion against him. ‘All the fucking ugly and ungrateful little pieces of shit.’ He growls as his eyes scan the giants, the race of destruction – the Gog Magogs and the Aqrabuamelu flooding his castle.
Amongst them, he could see 4 of his fine palace guards with their weapons pointed straight at him.
“Prince Yoongi, please, we don’t want to hurt you.” Leviathan pleads as she slithers closer to him.
“Come on, Levi, don’t be a pussy. We’ve all been waiting for a long time to kick his ass and this whole rebellion is a perfect chance.” Mammon jumps on his feet. It has been a while since he had gotten excited.
“Yes, but not like this, Mammon.” Leviathon frowns, looking at her prince sorrowly. “He’s still our prince and any attacks on him will mean treason.” The serpent tries to reason out.
“You, not wanting to serve our rightful king itself is treason.” One of the Gogmagogs hiss as they raise their weapon up.
“How dare you raise those things you call weapons up against me?” Leviathan turns, her eyes turning dark red. “Know your place for I can easily gobble you all up.”
“You should watch your mouth. There’s a million of us. Remember that our kind are made to destroy. We are the race who will drink all your seas up and beyond.” One of them seethes. “We are enough to devour you.”
“Enough.” Yoongi said, retracting his wings. “I didn’t come here to witness your fight. Those who wish to fight me may advance and those who you don’t, stand back.” The prince said, eyes turning black and the first two who came lunging at him had him swat them back just fine. When the giants came in and the Aqrabuamelu joined the party, Yoongi knows he was fucked.
He could feel his wings getting plucked off and his skin bitten off. The giants had kicked him and slammed him against the tiles.
Before he blacked out, he could taste the blood in his mouth and randomly thought that maybe something with marshmallows would taste more like Jimin.
Back in a hospital in one of Paradisus’s province, Mejiwoo was looking out of the window from her hospital bed with a cup of strawberry flavoured tea in her hands. She had requested to be sent to a more peaceful area of Paradisus where the Gods and Goddesses here are much tamer than they are in the capital. They are less stuck up and acted more of a Divine here in the countryside. They teach their children to be grateful and happy. It the only place where the buildings aren’t built with gold and pavement aren’t paved with precious stones. Everything is normal, peaceful and calm.
And suddenly, the beautiful angel thought of her twin brother. Three soft knocks on the door before it opens, revealing an elderly nurse, holding a bouquet of hyacinths. She stares at the bouquet in her arms and sighs. “Throw them away.” She said, frowning.
“Are you sure, honey?”
“Yes. I don’t need those flowers.”
“But the sender must have felt really guilty. They are always hyacinths…”
“I know what they mean.” Mejiwoo said, not meaning to be rude as she bites her lower lip. “It’s just I’m waiting for a sign to know that he remembers me.”  
And it’s true. She couldn’t bear to face him knowing that he wouldn’t remember each touch and each kiss and memories engraved in her heart. It hurt. Each day, she was hoping for another flower – the flower. So that she knows Yoongi can somehow remember her or even remember what they have been through. She wasn’t searching for forgiveness. She had forgiven him a long time ago. She just wants him to remember. Remember himself, remember her, remember them.
“Please, Yoongi.  Please, remember me.” Mejiwoo whispers into the air like a secret as it evaporates into the air.
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rocketrole-jmzc · 5 years ago
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Elton had woken up to an empty bed with a blaring head ache as he always seemed to now a days. He knew he had booked a booth at the studio for the week but it was Wednesday and he knew he could get away with missing one day out of the five that he had booked. The sun was already in the middle of the sky by now and Elton cursed whoever had left the curtains open, it was too damn bright. He blindly searched his bedside table for a pill bottle popping a few painkiller managing to swallow them dry before reluctantly reopening his eyes. Lazily Elton swung his legs over the bedside and padded down toward the kitchen passing John's office on his way down. The door was shut which was seldom the case but Elton didnt think much of it. Coffee had already been brewed and Elton poured himself a cup splashing baileys into the mug and sighing as he brought it to his lips. There was a dull thud above him and Elton sighed, with his pre existing headache and sour mood he didnt want to investigate but then he heard a similar sound but louder like something had fallen. Reluctantly Elton set down the mug and made his way back up the stairs opening the door to John's office caught him off guard "Excuse me?" He shouted his brain working to hard to process what he was seeing to say something proper.
Earlier that morning John’s secretary was over delivering some paperwork. Although it was work that could easily be mailed, the two had been casually flirting for a couple weeks now and the man was going out of his way to see John. John never thought things would go this far but now he had the man pinned down against the desk, clothes discarded long ago and going at it. John and Elton had been drifting apart for months, barely talking aside from fighting, and John thought Elton was out of the house so he wasn’t being careful. When the door to the office opens his secretary quickly pushes John off of him, looking guilty and scrambling to put on his clothes. John’s slower about it; he knows he should feel guilty or embarrassed but he’s mostly just annoyed to have been interrupted. “I thought you were out,” he supplies after putting his boxers back on, working to pull on his pants and get his belt done up.
Eltons jaw sets in place as he watches the other two scramble apart his stomach lurching at the sight of his partner being unfaithful. He scoffs at the other mans words feeling his rage boiling up inside him "That all you've got to say John? Hm? Really that's all you have to say," He says his voice high and tight as he works hard to keep himself from shouting. The secretary is still scrambling to grab his things and Elton glares daggers at the young man "and you," his tone is low and feral as he addresses the secretary "Get out!" He shouts at the secretary his breathing heavy from hurt and frustration as the man scrambles away.
John watches him go then turns to Elton, his expression the same as if Elton was just a minor annoyance, or simply a mild inconvenience needing to be dealt with. “Quite frankly it’s a miracle you’re sober enough to even process what’s going on around you,” he marvels, pulling on his undershirt and beginning to do up the buttons.
Eltons eyes narrowed his heart pounding "That's it? Youre screwing your fucking secretary in /my house/ and that's all you have to fucking say John?" Hes aware hes screaming now approaching John as he speaks "How fucking long? Huh? A week? A month? Is this all the fucking work you need to do?" Elton barely stops for a breath shoving John knowing it wont help the situation but his blind rage is too strong for him to stop himself.
The shove quickly changes John’s demeanor, his shoulders squaring and his jaw clenching. “This was the first time, actually. I’m surprised I didn’t think of it sooner, what with you always gone, high, or picking fights with me,” he shoots back, starting to get angry. “Did you seriously think you could get away with always lashing out physically, without any ill consequences? The work I’ve been needing to do is covering up black eyes you give me,” he brings attention to their more recent fights, which had been getting increasingly more violent.
Elton audibly laughs at John's words "First time? Or first time with him John and dont you dare act all high and mighty when we both know that I am not the only one causing fights," His words rose with anger knocking over one of the chairs in front of John's desk "And lucky for both of us, I had to learn how to cover up that shot of thing very quickly," he sneered in John's face now but he turns away quickly shaking from the anger he cant control.
“Don’t fucking break anything in here,” John warns when Elton knocks over the chair. He rolls his eyes at the others words. “It’s not my fault you thought I loved you enough to only ever be with you,” he practically spits. The seconds the words leave his mouth he regrets them, since they’re not true. He’s purposely lashing out at Elton where he knows it’ll hurt. He knows how sensitive the other is about these things, that deep down the other was afraid nobody really loved him. Which wasn’t true; despite everything that had happened John still loves Elton, but the love has been flattened down from weeks of fighting, Elton ignoring him and vice versa. He shows no sign of regret though, simply crossing his arms.
Elton feels the anger in his chest deflate into cold hurt as he hears the words leave John's mouth. His mothers words rose up in his mind but he quickly shoved her out of his thoughts trying to keep himself angry before heart break set in. He turns to look at John his jaw tight from anger though the hurt shown threw his eyes "Get out of my house John!" He shouts ignoring the other mans cold warning and hurling a glass paper weight into the book shelf next to the other man "Get the fuck out!"
John grits his teeth harder when Elton throws the weight; it shatters, the sound echoing throughout the room, and part of the bookshelf collapses, spilling books and a few records onto the floor. All restraint leaves him instantly and he storms up to Elton. “Don’t. Break. My fucking stuff!” He growls, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and almost raising him up off the floor. “If I come back here and you’ve messed with any of this, I won’t let you off so easy,” he threatens, harshly shoving Elton away before turning to briskly walk out of the room, heading to leave.
The breath is knocked from his chest as John pushes him against the wall fighting every instinct to fight back. But even as John is walking away Elton paces after him hardly ready to let that go "stuff you bought with the money you made from my records you twat!" He shouted slamming himself in the bedroom still seething from the fight
John doesn’t stop when he hears Elton yelling after him, storming out of the house. He calls a car to take him to his apartment in the city, and once he gets there he sits at his desk, still shaking with anger. His own words echo through his head and he tries to push away the guilt; feeling guilty won’t help anything. He knows he messed up but he’d never admit that, he’d defend himself to the death if it kept out the humiliation of apologizing. He pours himself a drink, downing it in seconds and refilling his glass. He continues like that until it’s hard to pour anymore, spilling his drink onto the carpet. He doesn’t care though.
Elton hears the door slam and kicks blindly in frustration. John's words still stung and he reached out for the only coping skill he had: substances. He stares at the bottle for a moment a few silent tears slipping down his cheeks. Elton truly didnt want to loose John but he wasnt sure how he could trust him again.
John sits at his desk with his head in his hands. He feels like he should do something; instead of just sitting at home when he knows Elton’s probably losing it miles away. The other mans known to overdose and attempt, and a brief flash of worry that maybe he’s already done it, and John would get a call saying a maid had found Elton dead in his office. He nervously chews on his bottom lip. He opens one of his drawers and pulls out a small metal tin, taking a small spoonful of the white powder and heavily snorting it. He lays his head on the cold wooden desk, his senses buzzing and his head spinning as he tries to forget his worries.
-
It had been a little less than a week since Elton and John had spoken although hed seen that secretary around more than enough. Each time was a painful reminder of what he had found that morning and he wondered why he hadnt been fired yet. He made his way down the stairs with his trunk, it was the first day of travel for his tour and the last person he expected to see sitting across from him in the car was John "No work you need to do?" He spat, his bitterness speaking for him before he could stop it.
“This is the work I need to do,” John responds dully, his tone implying he’d like to roll his eyes, though he keeps himself from actually doing it. “Besides, somebody has to make sure you don’t kill yourself before you even go onstage,” he adds, hating that their first exchange in almost a week is hateful and bitter.
"Ah," Elton responds his eyes cold as they settle on John "wed hate to have to refund tickets," He supplies pouring himself a drink from the tumbler that they kept in the car for trips such as these "Where are we starting off again?" Elton asks downing the drink hed just poured for himself looking out the window.
“You have your first show tonight in L.A, then another tomorrow night,” John answers emotionlessly. Once Elton’s poured himself a drink he takes the tumbler, pouring himself one and downing it as well. He pours another, sipping this one a bit slower, looking out the window to ignore Elton. He’s clearly shutting him out, not giving him any attention.
Elton doesnt respond he fishes the tin from his coat pocket and takes a bit on the end of his pinky inhaling and leaning back his nose beginning to drip "Fuck, lend me your handkerchief," he asks his head tipping back to try and stop the bleeding.
John nods and takes the handkerchief out of a pocket on his lapel, handing it to Elton. He notices how thin Elton’s blood is and it makes him grimace: of course his is exactly the same, but he hates knowing Elton’s just as far gone with drugs as he is. “Try holding your breath, it’ll help the blood stop quicker,” he suggests softly.
Elton holds the fabric to his nose huffing, the tip feels condescending but he tries it and it works. He wipes the excess away and glares at John the substance on his system making his heart pound "If you dont fire that secretary then I will and I'm sure I wont be as nice about it as you would be," He doesn't intend for it to sound threatening but he hears his voice distantly and knows it must have
John raises an eyebrow, glaring a bit. “He’s good at his job, he’s been making things a lot more organized and efficient. Things won’t run as smoothly with him gone. But if you want to let your personal problems get in the way of your career then I can’t stop you. I’ll call him later and tell him he’s been let off,” he tells him, not much emotion showing in his voice at all.
Hurt boiled up in him as John tried to defend the other man but he didnt let it show unsurprisingly the conversation veered back towards his career. "Well I suppose that depends on if he continues to be a personal problem," Elton replies his tone icy "and would you get off your damn high horse you cant possibly be pretending that keeping the man you're sleeping with on payroll is for my benefit,"
John’s expression quickly turns to annoyance, looking at Elton almost as if he’s tired. “It /is/ for your benefit, but I’m not going to sit here and argue with you about something you know nothing about,” he retorts. His tone is still superior, but it’s only a coverup for how lost he feels. There’s no going back from what he did, and he’s much too ashamed to apologize, so the only thing he knows to do is defend himself, and to do that he’s trying to distance himself from Elton. All of his responses are given without any real emotion behind them, like he’s giving pre-rehearsed lines to somebody who works for him. He almost seems distant, occasionally glancing out the window, doing his best to avoid eye contact.
The other mans stoney tone just fueled John's anger his uncaring attitude and Elton opened his mouth to respond instead he just filled his glass again and downed his drink leaning his head back against the car seat. The last few days had been hellish and Elton wanted nothing more than to just forget about the hurt that John had caused him. But every time he thought of the other man all he could picture what what he had found that morning and that's what made him speak again "You know I dont know the last time you cared about my benefit, so I suppose I should be thankful you're shagging this poofer, hm?"
That gets John’s attention, and he turns to glare at Elton. He hates how Elton’s always saying that John doesn’t work hard at his job, and that he doesn’t care about Elton’s well-being, because that’s the one thing he always tried hard to do; make things as smooth and seamless as possible to make Elton’s life easier. He narrows his eyes, his face turned up in a scowl. “I’ve always cared about your benefit. I can count on one hand how many times there’s been a major slip-up in concert schedules or distributing records. That’s because I’ve always put your convenience over everything, because I know what kind of person you are. Throwing tantrums like a child if your private jets temperature isn’t exactly 70 degrees,” he says almost mockingly.
Elton doesnt respond he knows John's right in some capacity but the difference is John is the one in the wrong this time and he hates that he wont admit it. He cant stand the anger that brews in his stomach and a silent frustrated tear slips down his cheek. Hes quick to wipe it away and he pours himself another glass sipping it slower this time.
John notices the tear, a sharp pang of guilt hitting him. He turns away, looking out the window and shutting Elton out again. His face is expressionless and uncaring, just to hide how upset he is. The silence is heavy and tense, and he wants more than anything to break it somehow, but he knows anything he’d say would only come across as cruel, so he stays quiet.
"Is he the only one?" Elton asks unable to help himself, he doesn't really want to know those words that he isnt enough for John makes him wonder if this is the first time or he hasnt made John happy for a long time. The thought hurts more than he cares to admit, and he takes another swig.
John nods, turning back to partially face him. He’d much rather not talk about it, but he knows Elton deserves to know the truth. “Like I said before that was the first time. I never meant for things to go that far,” he tells him, knowing it’s no excuse or even close to an apology. It’s the truth, though; it started out as harmless flirting, just a way for John to get his fights with Elton off his mind. They’d never even kissed until the morning it happened. They had been in John’s office, casually flirting, when the other man had made a sudden move and kissed him. John let things progress, even encouraging them onward, because he was so starved for affection from fighting with Elton for months. He didn’t have any real feelings for the secretary, everything the other man had done John found himself thinking how Elton could do it so much better. John wishes he’d never let the flirting continue in the first place.
Elton scoffs and shakes his head as John speaks because hearing it hurts but hes glad he's able to actually listen to the other man, part of that being the alchohol rushing through his system. Some strange part of him feels like he should be apologizing to John, for what he didnt know but hed do anything to keep the other man from doing something like that again but theres another part of him that isnt satisfied and he raised the glass to his lips. Its exhausting to have the part of him that need affection and the part of him that was anger was at war and his anger always won out.
John tries to read Elton’s expression but isn’t able to. Now that Elton’s not yelling at him it’s easier to convince himself to at least try to apologize. “I don’t... I mean...there were no feelings involved. I know that doesn’t make it any better.. and what I said last week, about not loving you.. that wasn’t true, I didn’t do what I did because you’re not enough,” he tries to reassure him. It’s the truth but he knows it’s probably unbelievable. His tone is gentle now, more emotional, like he’s taken down the walls that were keeping him so far away.
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zoemurph · 7 years ago
Text
blistering feet, ch1: improvisation
on ao3
'hey tea are you ever going to write something thats not a dance au' no.
welcome! i dont know why im posting this OR why i started it!!! i only have 2 chapters written and i just started college and i have no outline. so.
fingers crossed (please dont expect a lot from me)
shoutout to all my friends for encouraging this. thank you for being bad influences.
also please!!! read chapter notes!!!! ill be putting any sort of specific trigger warnings in the beginning notes. let me know if i ever need more. in the END NOTES ON AO3 ill be putting videos and links to any dance terms/references that i use in the chapter. let do this
tw: references to self harm
Connor clenches his fists, digging his nails into the palms of his hands. He’s shaking, his brain is screaming a million things at him, and he feels like he’s drowning in his thoughts.
He can hear his mother’s voice in his head telling him about breathing exercises.
Fuck breathing exercises.
Before he does something he regrets — even though summer is coming to a close, it’s still too warm to suffer the fate of long sleeves — Connor throws his hair up into a ponytail. He changes out of his jeans and into old sweats, his jeans are old and soft but not stretchy enough, and hauls his bag onto his shoulder. He grabs his phone as he passes it on his desk and resists the urge to slam his bedroom door behind him as he leaves.
He’s already going to get shit from Larry, he doesn’t need more.
Connor huffs out a breath before knocking on Zoe’s door. She opens the door quickly, a questioning eyebrow raised. She gives him a once over before closing the door again. Connor crosses his arms and taps his foot impatiently as he waits. He finds himself tapping out an old rhythm that his body has somehow remembered despite the years and leans into the beat.
A few minutes later, Zoe leaves her bedroom. She has a bag on each arm and is wearing sweats and a loose top. “I’m choosing the music,” she says, twisting her hair up into a messy bun and kicking the door shut with her foot.
Connor Murphy started dancing when he was five years old.
His mother signed him up for a tap class when Zoe refused to go on her own. Connor hadn’t wanted to go, but he was the older sibling, he was supposed to be the example, he was supposed to be there for his sister. So despite all his complaining and all of Zoe’s tears, Cynthia packed them into the car and drove them to the dance studio.
Connor was immediately put off by the amount of pink— pink was Zoe’s color, she had a monopoly over it. Zoe hated all the people, all the parents that were much bigger than her and all the other dancers who she had never met. She hid behind Connor and held onto the sleeve of his hoodie.
Connor decided he hated dance.
But he didn’t mind the way the shoes clicked on the floor.
They stood in line and the teacher talked and Connor stopped listening. But then the teacher turned on the music and showed them how to hit the floor with the toe of their shoe just right. The studio filled with the sounds of stomping.
Connor decided he liked dance.
Connor grits his teeth as Zoe plugs the aux cord into her phone. She hums to herself as she scrolls through her music, pursing her lips before settling on a playlist.
Connor focuses on the road, even though he knows this route well enough by now that he could probably drive it in his sleep. Not that Zoe would let him.
Zoe leans forward and turns up the music, guitar notes floating through the speakers. Surprisingly, it’s not a song that Connor recognizes. Probably some indie band that Zoe found and has decided to obsess over for a few weeks.
He doesn’t know how many songs have passed when he pulls into the parking lot.
“You’re lucky Heather likes us,” Zoe says as she hops out of the car.
Connor rolls his eyes and turns off the engine. He grips the steering wheel one last time before grabbing his bag from the back.
Melinda looks up from where she’s working behind the desk when Zoe pulls open the door of the dance studio. Melinda smiles and asks Zoe how she’s doing, her eyes flicking over the Connor briefly. Connor can practically feel the worry dripping off of Melinda and elects to ignore it. Whatever.
“Is Studio C open?” he asks, kicking off his shoes.
“Always is!” Melinda says cheerfully. He doesn’t care enough right now to decide if the tone is forced.
Zoe thanks Melinda as Connor climbs the steps to the storage room for the competitive dancers. He dumps his shoes and sweatshirt in his usual cubby and glances to his bag for a moment before deciding just to take all of it. He passes Zoe as he leaves the room and she holds out a water bottle to him. He takes it without a word.
Studio C is cold like it alway is. The heating in this particular studio isn’t very good, especially since it’s in the older part of the building. Him and Zoe moved to this studio when he was eight and his mother wanted them to start taking dance more seriously. When they were ten, the studio expanded into the building next to it for more studio space. Now, this studio in particular, with its dented wood floors and small size, is usually left open for anyone wanting practice space.
Two years ago, Connor claimed it as his own.
He plugs his phone into the speaker system and turns the music up as loud as he can without getting yelled at by Heather to lower the volume or get out. He can feel the beat in his bones as he sits on the floor and laces up his tap shoes, easy and familiar.
He stands and closes his eyes, facing the mirror but not wanting to see himself.
That’s the worst part about dance studios. There are so many mirrors. All of your mistakes, everything you are that you don’t want to be, projected for what seems like the entire world to see.
Connor does a few cramp rolls. His mind starts to calm as he soaks in the music.
He’s really supposed to warm up. It’s important to do, even for tap. He’s supposed to warm up his ankles.
He’s not really in the mood to be safe.
The song ends and the intro to another starts up. He always leaves his phone on shuffle when he improvs so it can be a surprise. He recognizes the song after the first few notes, smiling a little to himself.
Connor counts himself in and he starts with a simple flap ball change. And then he dances.
—«·»—
Zoe is sitting on a bench outside the studio scrolling on her phone when Connor has finished, his muscles sore and his heart racing. She barely gives him a second glance when he drops his bag on the bench next to her and sits down.
He leans over to check the time on her screen. Zoe pushes him away.
“It’s almost three,” she says. “And you smell.”
Connor rolls his eyes and pulls the hair tie out of his hair. “Do you want to grab something to eat before rehearsal?”
Zoe is already standing. “God I thought you’d never ask.” Connor follows her into the storage room as she complains about their mother’s cooking. “—which isn’t bad but, we dance twenty three hours a week, we need more carbs than that.” Zoe shoves her bag into one of the cubbies and puts on her shoes. Connor fishes the car keys out of his bag and does the same.
“McDonald’s?” he asks as they get into the car. The car has already gotten warm since they went into the studio and Connor remembers that he really fucking hates summer and heat.
Zoe is already reaching for the aux cord. “Depression fries?”
“Fuck you,” Connor says flatly. He shifts the gear into drive and tries not to speed out of the parking lot. If Heather so much as suspects that he was speeding in the area, he’ll get an earful at rehearsal tonight.
“I’m not judging,” Zoe says as she chooses a song. “I want chicken nuggets.”
Maybe fast food isn’t the best idea before rehearsal, but Connor stopped caring about what was healthy a long time ago. He spends hours in the studio without eating or drinking and sleeps less than five hours a night. If his plan was to live a long life, he’d be failing. But luckily that’s not his plan.
If he spends enough time in the dance studio, the rest of the world stops for a while. Or at least he stops paying attention to the rest of the world for long enough that it’s a little less shitty.
That’s the problem with school starting up again. Less studio time. More time in a hellhole where no one would care if he died, where half the school thinks he’s about to snap and go on a shooting spree, where all anyone knows him for is throwing a printer in the second grade.
Yeah. High school definitely is the best four years of his life.
Connor doesn’t even realize he’s made it to the drive through until Zoe is leaning over him and rolling down his window. He really has to stop doing that when he drives, even if he knows the route well. One of these days he’s going to get into an accident and kill himself (not a bad thing) and Zoe (a bad thing).
Zoe orders quickly, getting him a drink along with his trademarked depression fries, and then sits back down in her seat and buckles in, motioning him to drive forward. It’s sort of weird how Zoe just goes along with stuff like this without question, but it’s better than being at home and getting yelled at for it.  
They sit in the McDonald’s parking lot for a while and eat because Connor’s fries would get cold in the drive back to the studio and McDonald’s fries have this magical ability to get really fucking gross when they’re cold. Zoe cranks her weird music louder as she eats her chicken nuggets, clicking through emails and updating Connor on studio events.
Connor takes a sip of her drink before his own, mostly to annoy her, partially to see what she got because he’s already forgotten what she ordered. “Do you think Erin is going to try more party pop jazz?”
Zoe shudders. “I hope not. That was…”
“Fucking awful?” he asks, and she nods eagerly in agreement. Lauren liked trying new things. Trying a different style of jazz, with a lot more pop music and jumping and neon, had not worked out in her favor. Connor had tried to drop the dance and Zoe had yelled at him.
“Do you think you’ll get a solo this year?” Zoe asks lightly.
Connor raises an eyebrow at her. “Do you think you will?”
They stare at each other for a long moment before Zoe snorts and grabs her drink from the cup holder. “Erika would lose her shit if they didn’t let you have your solo.”
Connor smirks. “That’d be something to see. Maybe I should refuse it.”
Zoe whacks his arm. “ Drive , asshole. Heather will have your head if we’re late.”
“What about your head?” He puts down the empty fries container and backs out of the parking space.
“I’m too pretty for that,” Zoe says haughtily. “Besides, I’m actually good at ballet.”
“I’ll throw you out of this car,” Connor threatens.
Zoe just changes the song and blasts the music louder.
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