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sweetestlamb · 4 years ago

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I’m Not Okay(But That’s Okay)

Summary: Mun-Yeong accepts Gang-Tae’s harsh rejection and learns about love and life from unexpected friends, meanwhile Gang-Tae starts to realize what he had and tossed away and fights to win back Mun-Yeong’s heart.

Genre: Healing Romance and then smutty smut smut.

Author’s Note: This story started out as a revenge fic because much like my Queen MY I like to get even but then I started thinking, it should be more than just getting back at GT. So this is a story of realizing your worth and learning who you really are, without other’s opinions. Both of our babies realize their worth and find their way back to each other. 11k, my longest one-shot ever. Hope you all enjoy!

Salty tears fell uncontrollably as she held herself, shaking like a leaf in the bitter winter cold. She felt as if someone had scooped her heart out with a jagged spoon, scrapping everything until there was nothing left. She cried, each drop falling and joining the oceans crushing waves. Wondering if this was how the ocean was first formed, the tears of those who had endured unimaginable pain. Weeping for lovers who would never return.

You were like a firecracker to me. A one time event.

Sobbing, she fell to the ground remembering her own harsh words, visceral and acidic on her tongue. She didn’t want to be a bomb, not anymore. She had gotten a taste of what love could be like and it was ambrosia, cloying saccharine on her tongue. With one small press of his lips to hers he had awakened emotions in her that had not only laid dormant, but had been beaten and hardened into something grotesque. He hadn’t healed her, she knew now that she wasn’t broken just a little fractured, a cast had been wrapped around her heart until it was ready to fully beat and pump love, but he had definitely woken up her emotions.

Now, standing on that beach, the wind whistling through the soft strands of her hair, she clutched at her chest, trying to keep her heart from crumbling into pieces, holding so tightly that her fingers burned and ached from the pain.

When no more tears came, and all she had left was gut-wrenching sobs, she finally let go.

Then she started walking, her legs were heavy as if they were filled with lead but she pushed on, each step taking her away from the disaster site. She wondered if she would ever be able to look at the ocean again without feeling like she was drowning in its vastness. What was it about drowning that made you feel so alive?

The cursed castle looms over her and the idea of being here, alone elicits goosebumps all over her skin. The coldness that had smothered her after his remorseless rejection made her bones ache and she saw her body fall to the ground, as if she were an entity outside of herself. Her body too weighty to lift a second time, she viciously pushes back memories of his strong hands picking her up and keeping her balanced. The ocean pours from her eyes.

This is how Sang-In finds her, an empty shell of the woman he knows. Openly weeping on the ground, dirt sticking to her hands and her face ash-fallen, heartache visible in her countenance. Gone was her fire and brimstone and in its stead was ash and soot. She hears the footsteps approaching and hates herself for the seed of hope that starts to bud in her mind.

“Mun-Yeong.... are you okay?” He whispers to her in voice akin to one you would use with a startled animal. Worried, that even the the press of your lips forming around harsh constants will send them bolting. Arms outstretched as if he too, was waiting for the explosion. The wail she let out sounds inhuman even to her own ears, she can’t fathom that she could make such a sound. Cautiously he approaches her, over his shoulders the wide doe-like eyes of Seung-Jae are shining bright, unshed tears glistening like fresh dew. Her rosebud lips curl up in despair as their eyes meet and she falls into Sang-In’s waiting arms.

He exhales a short breath, surprise evident in the tightening of the muscles in his body.

She sees the castle moving closer through blurry eyes, her tears so hot and pathetic on her face. She never meant to give anyone this much power over her and he took it easily, until he was done and once again she was tossed away. She wants so desperately to hate him.

She can only muster up the will to hate herself.

“I’ll get you some water.” The chair he places her in, scraps across the wooden floors, the sound obscenely loud in the eerie silence of the castle.

In. Out. In. Out.

Aching arms ascend up, crisscrossing on her shoulders, tap, tap, tap. The cotton balls begin to clear from her head, the fuzziness declines until she opens her eyes once more and meets those of the little art director.

“Why are you here? Aren’t you scared of me?”

She looks long and hard, eyes darting all over Mun-Yeong’s face. Until her heads moves softly side to side.

“It’s hard to be scared of someone, who looks so afraid them self.” Her lips snap shut and Mun-Yeong feels the usual desire flow through her, scare her, break her, hurt her. The feeling of warmth on her hands yanks her back from the darkness, that swarms inside her. She looks down at the hand that encompasses her own hand on the table. Wanting to pull away and show her that all these hands know are destruction, they are only capable of pain and death.

But.

She’s so warm.

Sang-In’s eyes broaden in sheer astonishment when he returns to the warm scene but he knows better than to comment. Knows that her hands will become razor-sharp, ready to attack if provoked.

“Here’s your water.” He places the glass to her lips and gently tilts the glass, pouring back all the fluids she expelled from her body. Her eyes begin to droop in exhaustion, he looks at Seung-Jae and her small nod is the only answer he needs.

Together, they carry Mun-Yeong’s complacent body up the stairs and tenderly place her in the large bed, its sheer size dwarfing her small frame. Sang-In gazes into her empty eyes and lifts his hand, suspended in time before he thinks better of it and simply pats the bed and silently walks out without a second glance.

Her thick blanket is drawn up to her chin and the warmth almost brings the ocean back to her eyes.

“Just sleep. “ Seung-Jae murmurs, no words of encouragement or of better tomorrows, just a simple command and again that warm hand encircles her own and she drifts off into a deep slumber. She dreams of nothing.

The sounds of morning wake her from her sleep, she lays in bed, still, comatose until she hears movement in the kitchen and she rushes from her bed. Running, Sprinting. Not bothering to get her slippers, rushing down the stairs, gripping the railing to prevent herself from falling, she can’t miss them swiftly turning the corner and-

Her heart fissures.

No Sang-Tae. No Gang-Tae.

Yellow and green bags, cover the table instead of hot soup, rolled omelets, fluffy rice, quail eggs, and steamed tofu. Disappointment cripples her heart and she wonders if it will always hurt this much? Will she have to cauterize every memory she has with them? Burn them close so the scars can remind of what everything she lost and stop her from ever doing it again.

“Oh you’re awake, here we bought breakfast.” Sang-In presses a sandwich into her hands, sitting down to drink his own coffee and on auto-pilot she crosses the cold kitchen, all of its warmth sucked from the room with the removal of the brothers.

She turns to look at him with a curious eye. Recalling all those years ago, as she thrashed on her hotel bed, apparitions of her mother haunting her dreams, the rigor mortis in her dead hands not enough to stop her from squeezing the air from her lungs. His fist hand banged on the door, before kicking the door open and shaking her from her night terrors. His face had been ghastly as he looked upon her own wet face, words caught in his throat and she had lashed out when he tried to embrace her.

Vicious scratches like a wild cat, until he finally gave up and sat down on the ground beside her bed. Minutes passed before he started to hum a nameless tune, she had fallen asleep with his baritone hums soothing her back to sleep. After that, there was a minute shift in their relationship, her cruel words didn’t seem to land the same way as they had done before. He looked at her like he was seeing her for the very first time.

He was looking at her like that once more.

Then his eyes shifted and he picked up his own sandwich.

They ate in silence and she vaguely wondered where the doe had gone with her big Bambi eyes and warm hands. But she didn’t inquiry out loud, people were prone to leaving. She would stop letting that shock her.

Next day, Bambi as she had taken to calling her showed up. Containers of warm food tied in a bag. She forced herself not to think about where they had come from and instead, chewed the delicious food slowly savoring each burst of flavor on her tongue.

This went on for days. Some days it was just her and Sang-In and other days Bambi- Seung-Jae was there, and sometimes all three of them ate together. She got used to their constant bickering about everything. On days, when one was there without the other, she noticed that they would turn with complaints on their tongues and ready to engage in a verbal skirmish before remembering that the other wasn’t there. She realized that friendship wasn’t always nice. You were allowed to bicker and rage and then deflate and carry on.

She watched them do it and heard Sang-In’s words echo in her mind when she asked him about it, his face was as shocked as when she had asked him who he liked more, her or the two-faced bitch. He replied with a finger on his newly naked chin, “ Friendship is complicated because people are too. Anything good is always worth a fight.”

Gang-Tae had looked like all the fight had fled his body that day at the beach. No. All his fight for her. He was willing to fight for his brother but he had made it clear that she wasn’t worthy of fighting, of complications, she could be picked up for a good time and then abandoned when the show was over. She was temporary.

She stayed in bed for days after that heart-breaking revelation.

Only leaving to eat with Sang-In and Seung-Jae.

Sunlight trickled through her curtains, as she got dressed. All black armor wrapped around her body. The sleeves of her floor length black dress, puffed up daring anything to get close to this dangerous creature. The bodice of the dress was almost too tight across her chest, molding the shattered pieces of her heart into some semblance of normalcy. She completed her ensemble with a large black netted hat that draped into her face, partially covering her eye and her towering black heels.

Death, itself would shudder at the sight of her.

Sang-in and Seung-Jae both perked up in admonishment at seeing her in something other than a dressing down.

“Mun-Yeong, you dazzling beauty!” He sang standing, hands clapping together in joy, he walked around to meet her and saw that the frost that had lined her eyes these past few days had melted a little.

“Where is my sandwich?” She demanded, humming in acquiescence when Seung-Jae bounded over to hand it to her, eyes lighting up as she informed her that she looked better.

She felt better.

It was time to stop mourning she thought ironically enough, whilst looking like the human manifestation of a funeral itself.

“I have to go to a conference today, so I won’t be here for lunch.” Sang-In stated, pointed looking at his assistant and before she could read between his lines- you need to be here to have lunch with Mun-Yeong. She looked up and said, “I won’t be here today. I called the hospital. I’m going to teach my class today.”

She didn’t miss the silent conversation that transpired between the two but her mind was made up. She needed to keep moving, staying still wasn’t an option anymore.

“Okay, I’ll drive you.” Sang-In said leaving no room for argument, she wasn’t used to seeing this side of him. Did he care about her?

The smile that he was brandishing made her think the answer, might be yes.

The drive was pleasant, she watched the trees and foliage as the car zoomed past them. Cherry blossom petals falling as if begging someone to catch them.

Her heart raced as they pulled up in the parking lot, all the times she had done that before flashed in her head, arguing with Sang-Tae about the radio and who should sit next to Gang-Tae all washed over her. She let it. Taking a moment to feel it. Before opening the car door and closing the door on it.

“I’ll pick you up later.” Sang-In called, pulling out as Seung-Jae waved goodbye, soft smile spread across her innocent face. She ached to wave back but only nodded her head in affirmation, before gripping her bag in her hand. This was it.

I can’t believe she’s here. Did anyone tell Gang-Tae? What if they run into each other? Do you think they’re still dating?

She heard all the whispers from the nurses who seemed to have endless time for gossip but none for much less, she had the bruises to proof it, all except Ju-Ri who avoided her like she had the plague and that at least made sense to her, it was just like when they were kids. At least she was consistent.

Her class had ended a few minutes ago and to her surprise she had missed the idiot patient with the too-bright eyes and endless optimism. Everyone else had nodded in agreement as she told them that “The Little Mermaid” was a tale of making yourself smaller to receive love, that love wasn’t gentle or unconditional but rather controlling and retraining. Trade in your values, beliefs and even voice so you could feel love’s tight grip and even then it wasn’t enough.

A-reum- she recalled her name- would have stood up and revolted against her and her bleak outlook on love, would have argued that love was a compromise and sometimes you had to make sacrifices for it but they were worth it. It was easy for her to say that when she had someone who thought she was worth fighting for, Mun-Yeong thought.

She walked the hallway aimlessly, until her feet brought her to the cafeteria. The same one she had watched him eat in, so many people around him, unlike her people gravitated towards him. Like he had his own orbital pull, but was completely unaware of it or its power.

Finding an empty table in the back, she walked there not knowing why she felt the need to be here. She slid on the smooth solid plastic of the chair, placing the lunch Sang-In had forced into her hand this morning as she had left the car.

Soon, she could be a representative for Subways, the way they were consuming it daily.

The sandwich was cool to the touch, but she didn’t mind. She had high internal heat. She ate alone, taking bite after bite of the sandwich, eyes down at the table before she heard the chair across from her being pulled out. She didn’t look up at first, swallowing her bite and taking a deep breath before she willed her eyes to rise.

She saw something she had never seen before.

A warm motherly smiled greeted her.

“I didn’t know you were back already, you look cheerful.” Soon-Duk teased, taking in her outfit with an amused grin on her face.

“This is my happiest black.” She responded, almost jumping at the burst of laughter that her joke garnered and she shyly smiled back, taking another bite of her sandwich.

“What kind of lunch is that? I will get you some real food.” She moved faster, than Mun-Yeong thought a woman her age should but within seconds, she was back with her delicious home-made food and despite her sandwich she felt her mouth watering.

Lunch was a compilations of here try this, eat up, no put this with this, you like that? She ate until she thought her stomach would explode.

“How are you?” Chopsticks stopped midair on their journey to her mouth. How was she. Everyone was asking her that. She had never had so many people worry about her well-being before, it was unsettling. She wasn’t worth any of it. The sooner everyone followed his lead the better. Didn’t they know that everything she touched turned to ruins? She was a harbinger of death, a bomb that would kill everything in its wake.

She never got a chance to answer that innocuous question.

Ju-Ri and Gang-Tae were frozen, across the room. Eyes wide in trepidation as she ate with their mother-figure. She wondered if they were scared for her? Terrified, that even being this close to her would result in anguish?

“Thank you for the food.” She surprised even herself with the words, before standing and walking away, a warm hand on her wrist stopped her escape, “You’re welcome. You can come to me anytime.” She fought back the tears that threatened to spill at the compassionate offer. She nodded. Then continued her escape, never one to stray away from confrontation. She met their eyes, one filled with contempt and the other....too many emotions to read. It wasn’t shocking to see them together, if Mun-Yeong was a firecracker, then Ju-Ri was a wet rag. Dependable. Damp. Lackluster. Jealousy burned like acid in her stomach as she quickly left the room.

She never saw those dark soulful eyes, watch her very move, drinking her up like he was dehydrated and she was the only source of relief.

So lost in her, that he didn’t notice two pair of eyes watching his rapture.

Life continued, like it always did she thought bitterly. The Earth didn’t stop spinning for any of us. It had been days since her not encounter in the cafeteria, Sang-In had picked her up as he promised and there had been another not encounter, Sang-In’s eyes had hardened while opening the door for her and she turned around to meet those dark haunting eyes.

He stood silent, as his brother rambled on about... someone named Terry? The circuit when their eyes met had been electric, fizzing through the air. He broke the contact first, eyes gazing over with...something as he looked down at the guiding hand her manager had placed on her back as he ushered her into the car. His other arm looming over her head as he opened the car door for her. The proximity between their bodies minuscule. That sharp jaw had tightened before he seemed to snap out of it and grab Sang-Tae’s arm, changing their course.

Giving them a wide berth of space.

Are you jealous?

Her own words echoed in her mind, as she remembered his aloofness as the fan had sat besides her. Showering her with praise and glowering at her every move, enraptured in her as she was simultaneously enraptured in the pen. The table had jilted from the force with which he slammed the coffee down with, his body turned away from them in overly zealous nonchalance. Until she had started writing her number down, he couldn't stop his contemptuous glances then. She had seen the anger in his eyes has she had pressed this stranger’s hand onto her waist. She has reveled in his jealousy, mindlessly taking that as proof of his feelings for her.

His reprimands afterwards had not doused the flames at all, his jealousy was palpable then. The addition of words to his actions, painting an even clearer picture. You’re mine.

What a load of bullshit.

Was she is his Mang-Tae? Something you hide away in a drawer only to possessively clutch at it when someone else tried to touch it?

Anger blistered under her skin, recalling with disdain how happy that moment had once made her. She was a fool to confuse possession with love.

Not so long ago she had seen them as two sides of the same coin. But she was learning that she was wrong. Everything she had been taught about love was wrong, soured by her mother’s volatile love and her father’s discernible hatred.

His jealousy brought her no satisfaction now. It might nothing if he wouldn’t fight. She was ready to go to war for them and he could barely pass a punch. It wasn’t equal, and love should be.

Pale pinks and reds enveloped her body, her pink chiffon dress was soft against her skin, a sheer red covering outset the ensemble resembling Aphrodite herself, her hair was curled in soft waves that framed her face perfectly. The gold-heart necklace that Sang-In had gifted her this morning sat on the prominent clavicle of her chest. On her feet she donned bloody red heels, matching the red of her lipstick that she swiped across her lips.

Perfect.

“You look beautiful Ms. Ko Mun-Yeong!” The wide Bambi eyes glimmered in happiness, as Seung-Jae hopped up and clapped her hands, curling wand still in her hands.

They had been up since morning, the usually frightful art director had dragged her from her a bed with a quick birthday song- do you have a death wish?- before begging her to allow her to help her get ready today.

It was the first time, she had ever had someone besides her mother touch her hair. She had counted until the panic had subsided. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5......

Before looking up and seeing that her hair was all glossy, bouncy curls that she had never been able to achieve on her own. She had reached up to touch the wondrous curls before a soft hand smacked her own away.

She looked up in shock and met the terrified eyes of Bambi before she cracked a smile and watched the girl do the same, breathless laughter followed close behind.

“Don’t touch. Your hair is so silky it was really hard to make it curl, don’t ruin all my hard work.”

Sang-In pressed in soon after and her skin tingled from all the praises, she looked in the mirror and agreed with all of them. She looked pretty.

“She’s in a good mood.” She hears one of the patients whisper as she passes by, she can’t deny it. She is. Today she had allowed them to create their own fairy tales, instead of her usual lectures. Their first creative writing session and they were all engaged, stories about princesses and ogres and witches and she smiled as she listened in as a patient defended her decision to make the witch the protagonist and hero. There are good witches!

Their time soon comes to a close and she hears them all whine in displeasure, “Can we finish them next week and read them out loud?” The old man begs, with pleading eyes, flustered by their evident interest in her class, all she can muster up is a nod.

Without much thought, she finds herself going to the cafeteria knowing that she will get a few moments with Soon-Duk before they are interrupted.

She had always relapsed this morning, fingers aching to send him a message. To let him know that today was important. Before remembering that today wasn’t important to him, he had his fun and she needed to leave him alone.

His rejection still stung and she wouldn’t let it burn her today.

“Well don’t you look gorgeous.” She perked at the sound of her voice and couldn’t help but smile in response. Warm hands encompass her own and Soon-Duk, walks her to their table, still hand in hand. Mun-Yeong wonders how they look, if they look like mother and daught--

They lapse into a comfortable conversation, she regales her with stories of her class today and how ridiculous some of the stories had been. Soon-Duk’s gentile smile makes her realize that she sounds like a proud teacher speaking of her students and their mishaps. A weird feeling flutters in her stomach.

“There she is, the birthday girl!” A new voice interrupts their conversation, looking up she sees the kooky director himself, a stupid grin on his weathered face.

Shock blazes across her face, looking at Soon-Duk who winks in response before leaving without a word.

“....... my son is a businessman, you would like him! He has always been a big fan of your work. I think it would be wonderful if you two were to met!” She tunes back in, catching the final part of whatever the madman was talking about.

For whatever reason, she had learned that Soon-Duk liked the director, they teased each other mercilessly, bickering like an old married couple and every once in a while he would join them and bore her with his stories of courtship. How had had fought off a band of thugs to save Soon-Duk’s live with only his watch, as the woman in question rolled her eyes stuffing more food into his ridiculous mouth to shut him up.

This was the primary reason she found herself agreeing to meet his son later today, This will be his first time visiting me at work, he’s a very busy businessman!

She liked Soon-Duk a lot, she wondered what had made Ju-Ri such a two-faced bitch when she had that for a mom?

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Mun-Yeong, happy birthday to you!” That woman must have been a magician in her past life because she suddenly reappeared with a small cake, perfectly round with heaps of sweet frosting and glazed fruits, strawberries and mangoes, her favorite.

Her cheeks were red from all the attention, the old man is singing terribly and loud, bringing everyone’s eyes to the tables, looks of curiosity and others called out “Happy birthday!” as well and she wasn’t prepared for any of this so she sits quietly, letting emotions she had never had the opportunity to feel wash over her- gratitude, joy, acceptance.

She felt her throat constrict from the emotions, her body overstimulated.

A perfectly cut slice was placed in front of her with a fork, “Eat up.” And she did. Treasuring every bite, like it was her last.

She felt their eyes before she even looked up and it was her time to leave. Happiness washed over her and without thinking, she pushed out of her chair and wrapped her arms around Soon-Duk. The warm body stiffened and she felt the rejection turn her blood ice cold, before those warm arms melted the frost away. Pulling her tighter into the spontaneous embrace. She hugged and let herself be hugged.

Remembering where she was and who was watching, she pulled way but not before those those hands were on her cheek, brushing away rogue tears she never knew had dropped.

Clearing her throat, she picked up what was left of her cake and started walking to the exit. She supposed she could give some to her idiot manager and his hapless assistant.

A hand shot out and grabbed her elbow, and when she looked up and saw who the hand was attached to- her reaction was immediate, she ripped herself out of his hold and felt fury bubbling under her skin. “Don’t touch me.”

She watched her words, stab him like daggers and his hand squeezed again as if still feeling the phantom touch of her arm.

He wasn’t doing good job at hiding his hurt at her words and actions and she momentarily imagined the satisfaction she would feel if she just smashed the cake into his face. Smeared it all over him and fled without a word. The cake was delicious though and she could feel Soon-Duk’s watchful eyes still on her.

That wasn’t who she wanted to be anymore.

She mustered up her courage and walked away, she had imagined what she would do if he ever approached her again, plead for him to stay, ask him to hold her, fall into his arms. Now that he was here, she still felt the desire to just forgive him but.. nothing had really changed. He was still the same coward and she was tired of being strong on her own.

“Happy birthday.” His soft statement, made her pause for a moment,. Her heart telling her turn around and run into his arms, feel his love for however long he allowed.

But she knew that she deserved more than he was willing to give. She wanted to be a faithful wife, not a dirty mistress.

So, she kept walking, until she was outside and sat on the bench, the one where they first met, when she had grabbed hold of him as her destiny, it was now time to let him go and let herself in.

The day was supposed to be enough, he wasn’t lying when he told her that he had been waiting for that day all this life. Experiencing it with her had made the day even more bittersweet, they had so much fun. Her smiling face had been the prettiest sight and then he had kissed her.

A quick press of hunger lips, arms folded behind his back to stop them from dragging her into his arms and never letting go. it had been pure torture, resisting her the night before, she had looked at him with those ravenous eyes and sweet mouth and he wanted to let himself be eaten alive.

But this was going to be his only day and he didn’t want their first kiss to be a drunken mess of tongues and spit, he wanted the kiss that had been taken from him all those years ago, when he had handed her his heart and she had trampled all over it, leaving him bleeding at her magnificent gate.

That kiss had awakened emotions in his soul that he didn’t know he was capable of feeling, and that should have been the wake up call he needed. But he ignorantly thought that he could have his cake and eat it too, and then Sang-Tae had taken his heart out and slashed it into small pieces. The water that had hit him was nothing compared to the guilt that crushed him, a tsunami wave that shoved him to the ground.

It was all his fault, he knew that now. He had wanted too much and dreamed a dream that was never his, he had let his brother down and betrayed his mother. You must always protect your brother, that is why I gave birth to you.

He failed.

But Sang-Tae had forgiven him, hugged him for the first time in years of his own volition. And then everything was fine.

Her crying face had haunted him in his dreams and he woke up in cold sweats, her screams still ringing in his ear, I’m a bomb! I don’t disappear after, I explode and kill everyone! Then dream Mun-Yeong had exploded, her limps sprawled all over and he woke up with silent screams.

He ignored the dreams and the pain in his chest. This was all for the best, Jae-Su had agreed and reminded him daily. He didn’t need anymore excitement in his life, his brother was enough.

He didn’t need to celebrate her birthday with her, they weren’t a couple. He wasn’t hurt watching her leave a room every time he entered. He wasn’t jealous of Ju-Ri’s mother for getting to hold her, a beautiful sight in her airy pink dress, her new hair in curls that he had never seen before. He hadn’t yearned to pluck her from the mother’s arm and hold her in his own, he was fine and everything was fine.

He didn’t mean to touch her but she had been so close and looked so exquisite, he heard Ju-Ri’s exhale of surprise when his hand reached out to graze her skin and he savored its softness before she had ripped herself away, her words cutting deep, dagger sharp.

His words had stalled her, but she kept walking not looking back and he wondered what was that breaking noise he heard so loudly in his head?

“Let’s go sit with my mom.” Ju-Ri stated exasperation profound in her tone, he wanted to tell her to go away and chase after Mun-Yeong.

He followed her to the table, sitting down before her mother started to share out their respective meals, seeming to have endless supplies of food at all times. He was always given the most, he noted with shameful pride.

“Well I got her to agree, to meet my son. I think they’ll really hit it off!” The director exclaimed, pure glee in his eyes as he almost danced in his seat.

“Leave the girl alone, she has enough on her plate. If your son is anything like you, she’s better off running for the hills!”

“I told you, he takes after his mother. He is a gentleman if I say so myself, when I mentioned it was her birthday he was adamant about picking up a gift for her!” He said with a voice laced with pride that only a parent could have.

Gang-Tae felt every muscle in his body harden at his words and the realization at what and who they were talking about.

He devoured all the food before him to stop himself from, lashing out at the director like he had with Sang-In. She’s mine. She’s mine.

It wasn’t his place to think that, much less act on it. He had said cruel things to her, thrown back all the affection she had given him because she was right he was a coward. He didn’t deserve her. He knew that. But knowing that didn’t stop him from wanting to punch the director in his face as he spouted out more information about his perfect son.

Who was perfect for Mun-Yeong.

He couldn’t sit here and listen to this any longer, even his patience wasn’t infinite. He launched himself out of his seat, ignoring Ju-Ri’s cries and her mother’s grasping hand. Tossing the rest of his food out, he pounded out of the cafeteria. Never seeing the twinkle of victory in the director’s eyes. Or Soon-Duk’s slap to his arm, chastising him for his obvious ploy.

He distracted himself by actually doing his job, something the other nurses seemed to be immune to. Nearly punching Cha-Young in his smug face, when he had boldly asked if he and Mun-Yeong were over and if he wouldn’t mind if he asked her out. His only response was a growl and the slam of his locker door, the lazy nurse had taken his hint and quickly ran off to gossip some more. “Sheesh it was just a question, she’s crazy but she is hot.”

He eagerly awaited the end of the day, counting the minutes until he could go home and recharge.

There was no preparation for the scene that greeted him at the hospital’s entrance. Mun-Yeong stood with an overwhelming bouquet of flowers, held tenderly in her small hands. Vibrant pinks, reds and whites that matched her outfit perfectly. She was smiling that soft smile, that usually came before her wrinkle eye smile. He had only ever seen that smile directed at him and felt his heart constrict in jealousy, that someone else was on the receiving end.

It felt like a sucker punch to the gut, when his eyes leveled with the someone else. That fucking guy from the coffee shop. He felt satisfaction at being correct about this guy, he was a stalker, how did he even know where she worked? Had they spoken after that first meeting? No. She had told him that she had not been interested in him at all, as she waxed poetry about the beauty of the stolen pen.

Mun-Yeong was many things but she wasn’t a liar.

All the female nurses cooed at the flowers and congratulated her as she struggled to wrap her arms about the expanse of the flowers. Coffee shop guy reached out to help her and the desire to beat him to a pulp was almost staggering.

Then the director swaggered out and placed a hand on the stalker’s shoulders and with another sucker punch to his gut uttered, “My son, you never do anything in moderation huh? This is quite the bouquet for a first time meeting.” Despite the reprimand in his words, he looked jubilant at the sight of his son, his son. How was this possible?

“Sorry dad, but actually we met before. She was kind enough to take a picture with me. When you told me she was here, I knew it was the perfect opportunity to surprise her on her birthday.” His answering smile made Gang-Tae sick to this stomach.

He didn’t have enough resolve to watch this. His hand on her shoulder with undeserved familiarity. Her sweet smile in return, as she let herself be guided away by the father-son duo.

He stomped out of the hospital, ignoring everyone’s calls of goodbye.

His foul mood lasted all evening resulting in his brother hiding away in his tent, after he had snapped at him for spilling some milk on the floor. He couldn’t stop thinking about her with him. What were they doing? Where they still together? Was she smiling at him? It was driving him crazy, imagining her looking at someone else the way she used to look at him.

The cool rooftop air did nothing to cool off his anger.

“You really have some nerve, don’t you?”

He turned at the voice, meeting the cool eyes of Soon-Duk, calmly walking over to the table and pushing him over to make room for her to sit.

He didn’t respond to her biting words.

“She told me what you said to her. If you don’t want her, then let her be happy. You owe her at least that much.” She continued on and his eyes filled up with tears, knowing she was right he had to let her go, she did deserve happiness and he couldn’t give it to her.

His job was taking care of his brother and nothing else. It didn’t matter if the thought of her with someone else made him want to throw himself off this roof. it didn’t matter if she was his first thought in the morning and his last thought at nights. It didn’t matter if he dreamed of hugging her and kissing her and loving her. None of it mattered.

Then why was he crying?

He cried long and hard, finally letting himself feel. Tears scorching as they cascaded down his face and he felt warm arms circle around him. Holding him as he shook, patting his head soothingly, before harshly smacking him. “Stop torturing yourself already, what do you really want?”

He was scared to answer. The answer was clear but to state it out loud was to acknowledge it and make it real. Was he ready for that? Once he said it he would need to do something, that thought made him hesitate.

But the thought of her loving someone else, spurred him on.

“Mun-Yeong.”

The hospital was abuzz with gossip when he entered the next morning, he tried his best to tune them out, but could’t escape the talk of their date. They had left together, and both entered his car, the female nurses gushing at his chivalry, he had rushed forward opening every door for her. Carefully placing the flowers in the backseat before, driving off to enjoy a quiet dinner.

He wouldn’t lose her again. Destiny had brought them back together and he had stupidly fought tooth and nail to work against it, he was done with that.

He was ready to fight for her.

But first he had to speak to his brother, after work he sprinted home, nervous and anxious but determined, he didn’t have to choose. They could all be happy again, living in the castle together. At least he hoped they could.

Convincing Sang-Tae that he wasn’t losing him had not been easy. He cried and screamed and retreated to his tent, he waited him out, repeating “I’ll always be your little brother.” Until his brother’s frantic cries finally stopped and the sound of the zipper opening flooded the room.

“Why can’t it just be us two? We’re brothers all we need is each other, we’re brothers.” He repeated with sad eyes, looking like the world was crashing down on him and Gang-Tae almost lost his resolve. Mun-Yeong’s face flashed in his mind and it came back with a vengeance.

“Because she makes me happy too. You both make me happy and I don’t want to choose. I want to be happy with both of you.” He answered honestly, smile lighting up his face thinking about the times they had all had dinner together. Smiling and laughing as they talked about their day, Sang-Tae sharing his stories about the pizza shop as they both looked on with fondness.

“Happy. Gang-Tae is happy.” He felt his brother’s finger trace his smile with juvenile innocence, and he smiled even harder because he was happy and when he got her back, he would be even happier.

They fell asleep shortly after, he cuddled his brother until his breathing was steady, drifting off to thoughts of her dark tempting eyes and candied smiles.

He peeked out the closet door, waiting for that familiar head of lustrous short hair and impeccable fashion. She was looking radiant today in midnight blue, he reached out with trembling hands and yanked her into the small room with him. Her indignant, “What the hell are you doing?” was cut short by the slam of the door. She pulled her hand from his grasp, looking up at him in the dark before her vision settled. Her lips formed a perfect o.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He accused boldly, recalling all the moments he had attempted to speak to her this week only to see her spin around and walk run in the other direction. Once, he had actually chased her only to collide with the director who needed help picking out a tie for his meeting with a donor, he had looked back in annoyance as he was pulled further and further away from her. Then another time, he had arrived to lunch early, bullying Cha-Young into switching breaks with him.

As soon as she saw him approaching, she had bolted with all her food in her hand looking like a squirrel hibernating.

He ignored the amused eyes of Soon-Duk, who appeared to be enjoying his suffering immensely for someone who had told him to stop torturing himself.

So, now here they were. In this closet. She reached for the doorknob and he extended an arm over her shoulder, forcing the door shut.

“What are you doing? Do you have a death wish? Let me out!” She pushed at his chest in petulance, he didn’t budge even an inch.

He placed his other arm over her shoulder and bracketed her in, leaning in close and watching her face. She looked beautiful, face flushed with anger, he really hoped she didn’t have any sharp objects on her.

“We need to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk.”

“Fine, then I’ll talk and you can listen.”

She tried to bolt again, trying to pry his hands off the door, even at one moment seeming to think about kicking him but he caught her leg with his own and pressed her into the door.

“Stop. I just want to talk.” He pleaded with her.

“I don’t care what you have to say. Leave me alone.”

“Mun-yeong please....”

Her eyes softened momentarily before the frost grazed back over them.

“What do we need to talk about? if you’re looking for fun I can’t help you, firecrackers only go off once. “ She spat back at him, going for the jugular. The desire to check his throat for blood was immediate.

He knew those words would be thrown back at him. He deserved them, when he had said them he knew they would hurt her to her core. But he said it anyway, because he was a fucking coward. He had lied to so many people around himself, including himself, he had felt trapped in the vortex of his own deceptions. So he lashed out and pushed her away, angry at himself. As soon as he had uttered the words out loud, he knew that he had damaged whatever trust they had build with tentative hands. He had taken a sledge hammer to the foundation of their relationship.

“I’m sorry I said that, I’m so sorry. I never should have said those things to you. You were right, I am a fucking coward- her eyes widened at his curse- and I pushed you away because you scared me. What I was feeling for you scared me. I want you so badly, that it terrifies me. But I’m ready to fight now, Mun-Yeong I’m ready to be strong for us. “ He poured himself out at her feet, giving her all the ammunition to hurt him and trusting that she wouldn’t.

But like he said he had been the one to break their trust.

Her cold laughter made him take a step back, “Oh you’re ready to fight now? Should I be thankful? Should I drop everything and follow you like a lost puppy? Oh wait, I already did that. You told me to get lost. So about you take your own advice Gang-Tae, stop stirring up my miserable life and get lost.”

She pushed him out back, harder than before, finally managing to escape, the door slamming behind her.

Damn.

That could have gone better. But he wasn’t giving up. Not now, he had hurt her and winning her back wasn’t going to be easy.

Their game of cat and mouse continued, with her running every time he was in her vicinity and he watched with anguish as he started to pick her up after her classes.

The first time, she had been on her phone talking to Sang-In berating him for his tardiness, “Get here now or I’ll kill you.” When he had showed up, and he despised the way she smiled at him, hanging up without a goodbye and walking into his open arms. His hands had soothed down the material of her baby blue sundress and Gang-Tae wanted to break each of his fingers.

“Sang-In told me he was running late and asked me to pick you up.” He offered as a way of explanation, handing her an iced coffee, which she happily took placing the straw between her plush mouth, sucking hard.

He tightened his fist, watching that punk, watch her with hunger in his eyes.

“Okay, I won’t kill him tonight then. I’m starving, what are you going to feed me?” She asked him as they left, arms linked, that was supposed to be him. He had taken those moments for granted, her arm linked through his, her adorable face as she consumed pounds of grilled meat and still demanded more. Now he had to watch another man, take his place and make her happy.

He didn’t know how much longer he could do this.

Every time he saw them together it was like salt in his wound.

He knew this was all his fault, he had brought this on himself. But did it have to hurt this much? Did his heart have to throb this way?

After the closet incident, it became impossible to find her around the hospital. It was like she knew exactly where to hide so he couldn’t find her.

It was time to fight harder then.

The gated loomed ominously before him as he pushed them open with determined hands. He knew that she was home today, he had Sang-Tae text her to make sure, as they were talking again, best friends once more as he was now the outcast. Unlike when he tried texting her, she had immediately responded to Sang-Tae, I am home, you can come over if you want. We can have fun.

It had been difficult, stopping Sang-Tae from getting dressed and taking up her offer, “That is what best friends do. They hang out and have fun. I have to go!”

He had distracted him with Teary, explaining that Teary needed his attention right now, it was still early days since the dinosaur had joined their family.

With a deep breath, he climbed the marble decaying stairs and put the key in the lock, twisting it open. He had never gotten a chance to return it to her and he was thankful for that now. The door creaked open and he glared at it with betrayal, this would only work if he caught her by surprise.

He heard her sultry voice, coming from the kitchen, “I don’t need a babysitter you can go out with the two-faced bitch. if I get bored I’ll call Sang-Tae or Daniel.” He ignored the pain that shot through his heart at not being one of her options. “ He is working late, but he promised to call me after and drop off food. Okay, have a good time. if she gets drunk and hits you, make sure to hit her back!”

She meandered out, still unaware of his presence, aimlessly scrolling through her phone, long silk nightgown sheathing her lithe body, the silk draped into each and every crevice of her body and left his mouth dry. Parched.

“We need to talk.” She jumped at the sound of his voice, grabbing a.....lamp defensively and readying it for her attack. Until she realized it was him, she only lowered the lamp marginally. He was going to take that as a small victory.

“How did you get in here? Are you stalking me now? What is wrong with you? Get out!” She fired off her questions and command, all in one breath, her voice higher and frantic.

“No, we need to talk. I need you to listen to me.”

“I heard you the last time, you’re ready now. I HEARD YOU. I just don’t care.”

He sidestepped the lamp as it flew from her hands, and hugged her close to him, feeling the tremors run through her body. She was wild in his embrace, scratching and fighting to break free, he pinned her tighter. Holding on for the ride.

“I want you, and I think you still want me too.”

“No, I don’t. You were just something to pass the time. I’ve moved on now.”

He marched on, “Does he make you feel like I do? Look me in the eyes.”

He grabbed her chin in his hands, gentle but firm, forcing her eyes to meet his and he watched them surge with anger, so much anger but he also saw lust and he was going to cling to that.

“It doesn’t matter. “ She twisted out of his hold, sprinting to the stairs, he followed right behind her, grabbing her wrist and jerking her around to face him.

“It does matter. Answer me, does he make you feel like I do?!” He roared now, his anger so close to the surface, he refused to spend another minute without her, refused to watch her run into someone else’s arms. They went hand in hand, bomb and safety pin.

She refused to meet his eye, vengeful tears filling her eyes, “No, he doesn’t.” And victory sped through him, his smile was instant, before it fell, “And I don’t want him to. I don’t ever want to give someone that kind of control over me. I like what he makes me feel, it’s easy and fun. it doesn’t hurt like this does. “

He should leave her alone. Walk out the door and through the gate. Walk all the way back home. Eat dinner with Jae-Su, Ju-Ri, her mother and Sang-Tae. Should go to sleep and accept his loss. Accept that he ruined the best thing that ever happened to him. Should be happy that she has something fun and easy.

Well, he doesn’t do any of that. Doesn’t listen to his head, that’s telling him to accept his defeat gracefully.

He eats her mouth, there is no other way to describe the ravenous way that he devours her, prying her mouth open with his tongue, swirling around, their tongues meet in a heated duel. Presses her hard, into the wall, hands lost in her hair as she tugs at his shirt, exposing his hot stomach to the cool air. At first, she fights him, biting him hard enough to draw blood, she is vicious. Then her kisses soften and her nails rake over the crevice of his abs, leaving welts in their wake, he moans at the painpleasure. He trails down her elegant neck, sucking the hot skin into his mouth, doing his damnest to leave a mark.

She pushes him back and he smirks, unashamed. She looks absolutely wrecked, panting on the wall, her nipples hard through the silk of her nightgown. He can’t wait to roll them through his teeth and watch her body writhe in ecstasy.

Time stands still, as they stand panting, eyes glazed over in pleasure, waiting to see who will make the next move.

She does.

She throws herself into his waiting arms and he hooks his hands under her ass, drawing her close as she sticks her wet, slithering tongue into his mouth. She kisses like how she does everything else, explosively. Biting at his lip, forcing him to open his mouth wider to accommodate her demanding tongue.

He walks backwards, praying that he won’t drop her, she might actually kill him then. Until his knees hit the couch and he collapses onto it, taking her with him. He moans as she straddles his lap, the heat from between her thighs is searing hot and he grinds up into her, dragging her down to meet his thrust.

Finally, their kisses breaks, both taking a gulp of much needed air, a string of spit connects their mouth, before she licks her lips, splitting it.

“Only I can make you feel this way.” He proclaims with confidence, everything they have been through has brought them to this moment. They aren’t perfect and there’s still so much they need to learn, but they can do it together.

She sits in his lap, eyes shining, taking in his declaration before she suddenly grips the bottom of her nightgown and slips it over her head and then he has a lap full of half-naked Mun-Yeong. Her rose-petal pink panties glow on her pale skin, the moonlight trickling in, makes her look ethereal and he almost pinches himself to make sure this is real.

He comes alive.

Running his hands from her neck, between the valley of her breast, down to her wet center, bringing his finger to this mouth for a taste, he moans as he licks her essence away hungry for more.

She watches in fascination, before grabbing his shirt and dragging it over his head. Her eyes rake across his broad chest, tampering down into a tight narrow waist, he already knows that she likes his body. She had looked like she wanted to lick him all over last time. Unlike that time, he doesn’t push her away as she presses her body against his. Pleasure shooting through him as her nipples catch on his.

They spend minutes just grinding on each other, his hard dick presses up into her moist opening, and she bounces on his lap, breathless moans leaving her swollen mouth every time they meet.

“Please, please I need more.” She begs prettily, the p popping off her lips and he wants to make her beg even more, wants to make her a filthy mess on the couch.

He hoists her to the side, chuckling at her huff of indignation, his baby has never been patient but right now he can’t blame her. He wishes he was inside her, like yesterday. As quickly as he can he rips his pants off and pauses at his boxers, his swollen length standing at attention, the head visible through the slit.

He is unprepared for her mouth to slide down his entire length, her hand gripping the base that is still in the boxers. She swallows around him and he fights to keep his hips still, her wet mouth is obliterating all of his thoughts until all he can think is fuck, fuck, fuck ,fuck.

That sinful mouth, suctions around his heavy dick, licking at his sensitive head causing him to buck up, deeper into the cavern of her mouth. She toys with him, bringing him to the edge only to, slide off completely and start all over.

Her eyes stay on his the entire time, and it is pure unadulterated gratification, watching his length move in her mouth, in and out, in and out, it is hypnotic and he is lost in the pleasure. With a smirk she releases his cock, with a loud slurp, tongue coming out to lick him from her lips, lest she miss anything.

With strong hands, he seizes her and tosses her over the arm of the chair. Putting her dripping, wet pussy on full display, he pries her thighs open and laps up all the goodness. He has never done this before, but is eager to please and porn was a great teacher. The girls in those videos had never been able to get him this hard, their moans fake and repetitive. But now with Mun-Yeong naked and squirming in front of him, he understands why men have gone to war for this.

He would happily wage war for the chance to taste her.

With broad strokes of his tongue, he licks at her folds, biting at her enlarged clit, chest puffing out in pride at her answering squeaks of pleasure, he presses his tongue inside the hot tunnel and she thrusts back in reckless abandon.

Riding his face, now. Bouncing on his tongue and demanding more more more so he slips in a finger and the noise she lets us could rise the devil, himself. It is music to his ears. He thrusts his finger in while exploring her with his tongue, both scraping out every drop of pleasure from her body.

With weak hands, she reaches back and forces his head away from his meal. He sneaks in one more lick, before allowing her to push him away.

Their pants reverberate off the walls, he looks over and she is still hanging over the arm of the couch, looking every inch the temptress she is. He grips himself in his hands, pumping up and down, squeezing at the base to draw this out, he still has to make her beg after all.

She watches him over her shoulder with rapt eyes, reaching back to touch her own wet pussy, pressing in two fingers and curling them roughly inside herself.

She draws those sinfully wet fingers out with a soft squelch and beckons him closer, with the seductive curl of her fingers. He flies across the couch, easily covering the small space that separates them.

He drags her back into his lap, with her back facing him, grinding into her hot core, groaning when his cock head dips in but moving away before she can fully sheathe him. He takes her soft breast into his arms, rubbing the nipples between his fingers and kissing her neck, as she wraps her arms over her head and around his neck. Giving him full control and access to her body.

He sucks hickey after hickey into her skin, in places others will see and hidden places just for his eyes. She is a whining mess in his lap, lifting up to catch his cock, but he snaps his hip away every time, only allowing it to slide through the wet folds. He rubs his dick against her clit and she starts to wail, nails scratching at his shoulders and that’s going to hurt tomorrow.

He looks forward to it.

She twists her head around, finding his lips again, distracting them from the hickey they were sucking into her neck. They wrestle for control, pushing and pulling, tongues meeting into a wet battle and he blames that diversion for his surprise as she lifts up and sinks slowly onto him, engulfing his fattened cock in an indescribable heat.

The connection is like a life wire.

Their hips smack together, colliding over and over, he can’t help but look down and watch his cock disappearing into her, captivated by humanity’s oldest dance. She rides him hard, feet planted on the side of his thick thighs, begging him to go harder, faster, more as he squeezes her jiggling breasts and pushes even deeper into her depth.

Fucking fuck fuck.

Gradually, she starts to slow down, the movement of her hips faltering, he feels the fatigue in his own body but desire pumps like adrenaline through his veins and he wraps his hands around her slim waist, pushing her into the couch, her chest flat with the couch and her ass high in the air. His cock never slips from her body.

He fucks into her hard, delighted at how deep he can move in this position, she thrusts back meeting him, and he does it again, watching her ass shake with the impact. His broad hands gripping the globes of her ass, spreading them, to get a clearer view of his dick inside her.

His movements quicken as he feels the end drawing closer, he doesn’t want it to end, wants to be with her like this forever. But his balls hang heavily, waiting to expel all their fluids into her willing hole, that clutches and pulls him back with every thrust. Reaching around and pressing his fingers to her mouth, he pants, “Suck.” She sloppily takes his fingers, when they feel wet enough he pulls them out from her mouth, praising her, “You’re so good baby, so good to me.”

She grows wetter at his praise and presses back even harder, and he winds his fingers down to her engorged clit and rubs against it until she breaks apart underneath him, he wraps her up in his arms and rides her through her orgasm, feels her juices gushing out and the clenching of her walls, shoves him over the precarious edge he’s been on. His thick cum coats her walls, shooting out as he falls in a heap over her back, just catching the arm of the couch before he could bash his head into it.

Euphoria washes over him in waves, until his vision rights itself and he sees Mun-Yeong still beneath him, fearing that he’s crushing her, he uses the last of his strength to lift his body off hers, flopping onto the other side of the couch.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Her heads snaps over to his in shock, he looks back at her, his eyes wide and hopeful. Some might say that they do things backwards, but he just likes to think they move to the beat of their own drum.

She rolls her eyes before nodding yes. “if you ever make me cry again, I’ll kill you. “

He pumps a victorious fist into the air, take that coffee shop guy.

They spend the rest of the night, cuddling in her bed as he caresses her head and promises to make her happy for as long as she will allow him to. He whispers apologies onto her skin, until they fall into peaceful slumber.

He isn’t trying to stake his claim or anything domineering like that, but when he sees Mun-Yeong sequestered in a dark corner with Daniel the next day, he wanders over and catches the tail end of their conversation.

“I’ve had a lot of fun with you, but there’s someone else I was trying to forget. I hope you understand.”

“I do, spending time with you has been amazing. if you ever change your mind, I’ll be here.”

Yeah, that’s not going to happen. Fuck you very much.

Mun-Yeong starts to walk away, making her way the exit, leaving Daniel despondent in the hallway when he calls out to her, speeding up to catch her by her waist, she stops and rises an eyebrow, challenging him to act and he accepts it happily.

He drags her into a kiss, pressing his tongue into her mouth while stroking the hairs at the nape of her neck. Her immediate moan, making arousal sear through his blood. Imagining how else he could get her moaning.

“Oh my god, they’re kissing!” Sun Byeol’s high-pitched voice reaches his ear and he kisses her harder for good measure.

Pulling away, he sees Mun-Yeong roll her eyes again but he also sees satisfaction in those eyes, she’s just as possessive as he is. She secretly loves that she brings out his primal side, so different from the blushing shy Gang-Tae.

He looks over at coffee shop guy with a smirk, before walking out the hospital with his girl on his arm.

He was never letting her go. Destiny had brought them together, but they had made the decision to stay that way.

#its okay to not be okay fic #its okay to not be okay #psycho but it's okay #moon gang tae #ko mun yeong #healing romance #graveling #smutty smut smut #filthy gutter trash #but like also romance #stole Ju-Ri's mom #I said I would #sorry not sorry

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redhawtriot · 5 years ago

Note

IM DYING for some domestic things, can I please have small request about it? What if Bakugo, Kirishima, Shigaraki and Dabi (seperated, obviously) coming home and bringing one cutie plusiu for their unborn child? Sorry for wxtra fluff I just need more cute things in our lifes 😭 YOU R AWESOME HAPPY ONE MONTH LUV YA

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

I had to do this one right away! Sorry if some of these are very narrow-minded views on expecting children! I know surrogacy and adoption are also options! Let me know in the comments if those are things you guys would like to see as well!

But I got too excited when I saw this! lol The mucus filled disaster where my heart is supposed to be jumped for joy when I read this prompt!

HnM💕

💖Dabi:

When you first met Dabi, one of your very first presumptions about the man was that he should never have offspring.

That’s not to say that you were not immediately drawn to his physical looks and demeanor, rather you just couldn’t picture such a stoic man ever having the visceral capacity in his cold heart to care much about anyone besides himself.

It wouldn’t be until much later than your initial meeting where these feelings would be fully swayed– passed when you got to know him better and saw his standoffish mask fade away, revealing a loyal, surprisingly warm man– passed becoming romantically involved with him and finding him putting aside his own slight needs at times to fulfill yours– passed even your first pregnancy together.

It was the day of your child’s birth that you knew just how much of a kind-hearted creature your partner could be.

You already knew that he wouldn’t be able to attend the birth. He was a known “terrorist” after all. The sight of him in a hospital would only end in havoc.

Those people— always quick to label anyone who won’t conform under their oppression with such othering terms.

You gave a quick glance to your sleeping daughter, immediately feeling a heaviness in your heart. The picture just wasn’t complete without Dabi.

Yes, it hurt to be alone but you reminded yourself that you would soon return from the hospital to reunite your little untypical family.

But for the moment, you could only sleep and let your body heal from child birth.

A familiar sound suddenly chipped away at your peaceful unconscious, “You are so beautiful. Just like your mom, huh?”

Was that Dabi?

You tried to pry your heavy eye lids open and call out to him but only a slight tired groan came out.

“Go back to sleep, Y/N,” you felt a warm hand rub your cheek, “You did a good job. Rest up,” you tried to fight against your sleepiness but the soothing nature of his touch eventually dragged you back to sleep.

“You are perfect. I… I didn’t know I could feel so much for one person. God, I am going to spend every moment of my life protecting you until the day I die, baby girl.”

“Dabi!!” You gasped. You finally snapped your body up, and ignored the searing pain in your lower abdomen and you crazily searched the room for the father of your child.

Your heart sagged at his absence.

However on the visitors chair next to your daughters plastic crib was a large array of pink stuff animals and hearts.

You dragged yourself off of the bed and scuttled to the display of rosy penguins and pigs and bears and saw a card with a lone pink balloon on the front.

Curiously, you slowly opened the card,

I hope this doesn’t gross you out, me being all soft and everything, but as soon as I saw her I wanted to give her absolutely everything. My baby girl is the most precious thing I have ever seen.

I’m so proud of you. You did a good job, babe. Heal up and come home soon, kay?

I can’t wait to hold my girls again.

🐊Kirishima:

He was beyond happy to become the father to your children. Words wouldn’t even be able to begin to describe the pure and overwhelming feelings of joy that he felt as he bounced out of the doors of the drug store near your house.

He glanced down to a torn piece of a magazine the two of you had lying around the house, checking the small list he made one more time before he left the stores premises:

Vitamin B6

A plush crocodile

flowers

Left Twix

pregnancy test

Yep! All accounted for! He had practically no trouble at all finding most things on the list, but the plush crocodile was a bit harder than he expected.

He had asked an associate about the plush toy in hopes of finding it, but they only had alligators.

“But this is a stuffed alligator. See?” As Kirishima pointed to the stuffed animals face, the associate only became confused, so Kiri explained further, “The nose shape is all wrong. It has to be a crocodile? Are you sure this all you have?”

It was indeed all they had. Kirishima let out a small sigh, but honestly not even the drug store’s reptile discrimination could bring his day down!

“My wife is pregnant!” He exclaimed with an extremely proud smile to a couple he passsed as he made his way into his car. One of the strangers immediately cheered him on with a loud “whoop whoop!” before his boyfriend smacked him on the shoulder for the wild display.

Meanwhile, you couldn’t believe how long it was taking your husband to return home from the store. You bounced your leg uncomfortably as you waited on your living room couch.

He was only supposed to be picking up one thing! The longer you sat and waited for him to return, the more your nerves stacked upon each other.

You’re heart flipped in your chest as your front door suddenly opened. You quickly stood from the couch, “You got it?”

He hurried up to you, “Yep! Here, go take the test!” He pressed a kiss on your cheek and frantically handed you an already opened pregnancy test like a baton in a race.

You raised an eyebrow to him, before pausing as you caught a glance at the flowers in his other hand. You shook your head in disbelief, “Eiji look, I told you not to get too excited,” you pointed an accusing finger as you walked away toward to bathroom, “The test we took was old. It might have been a fake positive,” you hollered from the bathroom after shutting the door.

He followed you to the bathroom, but remained fidgety on the other side, “Well I know for a fact that it wasn’t a fake positive,” he replied with a slightly smug tone as he tried to mask his own nervousness.

“Oh yeah?” You laughed at his smugness, “Well… would that be such a bad thing?” You tried to sound lighthearted as you stared at the stick in front of you and waited for the second line to appear.

The two of you hadn’t really been planning for a child. You hadn’t ever really even talked about having children much, so when you missed your period last week and became sick this morning, this response from Kirishima was very unexpected.

He was way happier than you would have thought he would be. Just when you thought your beam of light couldn’t get any happier….

God, you didn’t want to let him down.

Suddenly Kirishima heard you scream on the other side of the door.

The man immediately burst through the door accidentally busting a portion of the frame, “Oh man, S-sorry. But WHAT IS IT!?”

“Happy face!” A smile split your face as you threw yourself at him for a hug.

“T-that means pregnant!?” He frantically stuttered, frozen in place.

“That means pregnant!” You hopped up and down.

He wasted no time at all as you scooped you up into his arms. The both of you laughed in unbelievable glee as he carried you to the living room and sat you down on the couch. He swiftly handed you the flowers, “Here you go, baby mama.” You laughed at his phrasing as he reach somewhere behind him to grab his drug store plastic bag.

“And these,” he smiled up at you, “for your stomach.”

Chocolate and…. B6?? What even is that? You threw him a confused glance, so he immediately explained.

“I was talking to a lady by the pharmacy about your morning sickness,” no wonder he took so long, you laughed at his diligence as he continued, “She said B6 can help. So the vitamins will do good for your stomach, and the chocolate will taste good for your stomach.”

Your face almost hurt from how hard your were smiling, “God, you really went all out! You really are hard headed you know that?”

“Only the best for my girls,” he argued as he pulled the stuffed alligator from behind his back.

“Oh my goodness!!” You explained with a laugh, the two of you always got each other crocodile things. The first thing you ever said to him in high school was a mocking joke about his choice in footwear—crocs. You laughed, “You think its a little girl, huh? Well, I think it’s a hard headed little boy just like his dad.”

“I guess we’ll see,” he said as he pecked you on the lips.

“I guess we will.” You smiled back at him.

🐻Shigaraki:

The two of you weren’t exactly on the greatest of terms. What was meant to be a drunken fling ended up turning into, in your opinion, a long, drawn out train-wreck of a relationship– if you could even call it that.

You swear that that man has the mentality of a child, and it seemed like every time he would take a step toward the grand goal of maturity, something would come by and knock him two steps back again.

So it was obviously not a shock to you that the overgrown baby was no where near prepared to raise a baby of his own. You almost expected him to storm off sooner than he did when you told him you were pregnant.

But he just stared at you.

“What? Would you stop staring at me like I’m some alien now?” you had thrown your hands on your hips as if to undermine any overwhelming feelings he had, “You did this to me!!” you had foolishly screamed at him, causing him paused in shock before storming away as you feared he would.

How could you say that to him? Then again, you knew you had your faults as well. After all you were the one who hid the pregnancy until you had begun to show.

It was just too much for you to bare– the thought of being left alone to raise a snotty little thing, the thought of him staying and you being forced into a failing relationship, the thought of what kind of fucked up hero society you would raise the thing in. All of these thoughts festering in your mind over the past few months boiled into a harden crust and weighed down upon your mind.

“Shit…” you sighed under your breath, finally releasing the flood of emotions that you had been holding back for all of these months in a wave of tears.

“Y/N,” Shigaraki’s voice suddenly snapped you out of your despairing trance, “Here,” he harshly shoved a soft object into your face much like a student would an unseemly note to his classmate.

You looked down at the object and was completely surprised by what you saw, “A bear…?” you gawked at the plush object. He hadn’t ever bought you any gifts before.

“I wasn’t planning on staying with you,” he said very simply, his words sending a sharp pain through your heart.

Your still teary eyes blinked a few times as you tried to hold back your inevitable crying, “O-okay? I-“ he suddenly cut you off,

“I’m not as stupid as you might think. I can see that you are unhappy with me, so I was gonna just drop this… us,” he trailed off as if he were carefully preparing his next set of words, so you sat in silence and waited for them,

He finally spoke, “but knowing that we are expecting a child makes me really happy. Because it’s with you. I will… try to make you happier.”

You immediately wrapped your arms around him and held him closer to you than you ever had before, as if you were finally becoming one with him. You honestly didn’t know if the two of you would work out, but hearing those words come from him would make all of the difference in the possibility.

💥Bakugou:

“GOD DAMMIT! THE BRAT’S ON FIRE AGAIN, Y/N!!” You heard your husband screech from the other side of the house.

“WHAT?! ALREADY!?” You gave a groan in annoyance as you walked down the hall. You could already see light from the flames your son was probably swallowed up in in your living room. You shook your head in exasperation.

As soon as Bakugou spotted you coming, he threw you and expectant look, causing you to throw you hands on your hips as you chastised him, “Well, don’t just stand there looking at me! Grab the extinguisher!”

He immediately became defensive, “What do you think I am trying to do, you idiot! I can’t find it!” He roared back over your sons terrified screams.

“What do you mean you can’t find it?! We have one in every room now!” You screamed back as you picked up your son and hugged him close. The boy dropped something from his hand as you did so.

It was a blessing that you had just come back from work and had your fireproof hero costume on. You already had a full store of clothes that your young toddler had burned through. You patted him on his flaming back in a feeble attempt to soothe him. He continued wailing still.

Your poor baby! You knew he had your fire proof cells, but he was still terrified.

“Babe! Where’s that damn extinguisher!?” You called out.

“You must have moved it earlier this morning when he scorched your shirt!” He accused angrily.

“Oh crap. Well, grab the one from the kitchen, or playroom! And that was more than a scorch and you know it! My favorite blouse looked like a teenage bonfire,” You tried to defend yourself.

“Put me out mommy! Put me out!” Your son sobbed, clinging tightly to your chest as the flames raged around him, “we need ‘wata’!” Your heart broke a little at his hiccups and gasps,

“We can’t use water, baby,” your fire breathing quirk along side Bakugou’s oily nitroglycerin sweat resulted in a pretty terrifying combination for a small child who had a habit of setting himself on fire. The oily fire would only surge if you used water to extinguish it. That’s why you had special extinguishers made just for these occasions, “if DADDY FINDS AN EXTINGUISHER you’ll be okay! Remember? It doesn’t hurt.”

Bakugou suddenly burst back into the room, “I FOUND IT!” He screeched like a battle cry as you held your son an arms length away. Much like you often practiced, Bakugou flipped the nozzle of the red container and released the foamy continents as they sprayed all over your son.

You quickly calmed him down and cleaned him off as Bakugou ran to grab him some more clothes. The two of you worked like a well oiled machine as you swiftly dressed him and consoled him out of his sobs.

Your son eventually cried himself into a nap, meaning you’d have at least 2 hours to prepare for the next inevitable incident. You sighed as you slumped down onto the couch next to an already sprawled Bakugou, “What are we gonna do with this boy,” you shook your head.

“Train him how to use his damn quirk,” he huffed.

You sat up defensively, “We do!”

“Yeah, a few minutes a day,” he spat back.

“He’s a toddler, Katsuki, Jesus!” your face upturned.

“Tell him that! He’s the one spontaneously combusting!” he loudly argued, “Besides, he’ll be four in like a month.”

It was a rare occurrence that he obtained his quirk so early. The two of you hadn’t expected it for years.

But doctors theorized that quirks would soon come earlier in age as their power grew— your son might just be among the first of a new era. Different things like diet, stress, activity could all also trigger the quirks to come sooner.

“Well the doctors said his outbursts could be stress related!” Your face shriveled. You weren’t so ignorant to think that yours and Katsuki’s interactions weren’t stressful for a small child. It’s not that you guys weren’t happy together. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Loud and passionate was just the dynamic that the two of you shared, but your son was gentle and nervous somehow. Much like your brother. You shook your head as guilt ate away at your heart, “God, only three years in and we are messing him up already.”

“He’s not fucking messed up!” Your husband argued “He’s perfect!” He announced proudly. This sent a wave of happiness into your heart.

You never really expected Bakugou to be the doting father type, but he had pleasantly surprised you the past few years at how passionate he was about raising your son. Of course there were times where you would question his harsher parenting methods, but all in all, he was a very good, supportive, present father.

You looked up at him proudly, “Yeah,” you agreed with a soft smile.

“Plus, I fixed our plush toy issue,” your husband huffed, “that probably why he was easier to calm the hell down than usual.”

“Our… what?” You raised an eyebrow.

“You really didn’t notice? Are you fucking serious?” He sounded almost hurt, “You said he get’s even more worked up when he’s upset about melting or destroying his toys during his tantrums. So I fixed that problem,” he pointed to the scorched carpet in front of you and that’s when you noticed a small, unscathed plush doll.

Your heart melted. It was a little cute Ground Zero doll! “Oh! Wow! How long has he had that?!” You excitedly exclaimed as you bent down to pick up the fluffy Bakugou.

“I just had the agency brand them yesterday. It’s a fireproof prototype,” he gruffly explained nonchalantly. You immediately leaned over to him to give your thoughtfulness sweetheart of a man a kiss but he harshly threw his face away from you so you only caught his cheek.

All these years, and he still hated affection, “Whatever,” you huffed, “I have a new man anyway,” you teased, causing him to angrily whip his head back towards you, only to see you placing a kiss on the small plushie.

“YOU ARE SO FUCKING WEIRD, YOU KNOW THAT!?!”

Suddenly you heard an explosion coming from your sons room, followed by familiar terrified wails, “MOMMYYY! PUT. ME. OUUUUUUT!”

Both you and Bakugou sighed before you angrily punched him on the arm for his loud mouth.

#bnha imagines #bakugou imagine #bnha imagine #kirishima x reader #mha imagines #mha imagine #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #kirishima imagine #bakugou x reader #shigaraki imagine #dabi imagine #dabi x reader #pregancy #plush doll

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rosesgonerogue · 5 years ago

Text

Let the Sunshine In - Chapter One

AO3

Three Years Later

Awareness came in waves. There was a constant drumming that was enough to drive someone insane, as well as someone breathing heavily. It sounded wrong, and even worse, it felt wrong. For some reason it gave him the visceral urge--no, the need to hurt, to maim, to kill.

After the sound came the pain, the feeling of needles dancing across his skin, of circulation resuming in disused limbs. Soon after came the smell of sulfur, of something rotten. Finally a toxic green light filtered into his vision, the unnatural shade looking infinitely distasteful.

What was this? Where was he? His mind felt broken, fractured--the information he needed was all there, somewhere, the pieces just didn’t fit together, and it pissed him off.

He was in some kind of disgusting, green water, and outside the water a whole host of people waited. The pounding grew faster as his eyes flicked around. A part of him swore to find whoever was responsible for the drumming and acquaint their face with a wall.

“-odd, we simply want to--”

“Who the hell are you?” The extremely rusty voice surprised him. It was his. Something about that felt important. “What happened, where am I?”

“You are Jason Todd,” a stern man said primly. “And I am R’as al Ghul, an acquaintance of your previous mentor. We are at the Lazarus Pits.”

The pounding got louder and he--Jason--clenched his fists, ready to kill someone to make the heartbeat sto--

Heartbeat. It was his heartbeat.

The heartbeat he shouldn’t have.

A rush of memories assaulted his brain; a crowbar descending, unhinged laughter, an explosion, but most of all, pain. Pain and fear.

This wasn't right. His hands sank into his hair, ready to pull it out as he stumbled backwards, unable to process everything. He was dead--or he should be. He wanted to still be dead.

The man, Ra’s, advanced, speaking calmly and slowly, like Jason was a wild animal. “If you would follow me, we can--”

Jason rushed the man with a strangled cry, bludgeoning the man with his fists, elbows, feet, fighting however he could. He heard a few distinct snaps, but he didn’t stop until the man was a bloody mess at his feet.

He still quivered with rage, his entire body feeling like it was about to explode.

“You should have left me dead,” he growled before barrelling through the mass of people that moved to surround him. His feet carried him out of the cave he had been in and out into the night that waited. After being dead, apparently even starlight was a little bright for his eyes--if it had been daylight, he might have just gone blind right then.

Something inside him dictated where his feet carried him. He felt a distinct pull to… something. It felt important, so Jason began trudging along.

**************

“I think that’s the last box, sweetie,” Sabine said, following her husband in.

“Thank you guys for helping so much, it really means a lot,” Marinette said with a smile to her parents.

Tom set the box down carefully, eyes already filled with tears. “I can’t believe my little girl has a place of her own. It seems like just yesterday I was teaching her to make macarons for the first time.”

“Oh, don’t you start crying, Tom, or I’ll start crying too,” Sabine said, swatting her husband with a sniff.

In a few short weeks Marinette would be starting her studies at the best fashion program in all of Europe. Like many of her classmates, she was staying in Paris for at least the near future. She had originally planned on staying at her parents’ house for at least the first year of the program, but the perfect opportunity presented itself, and Marinette just couldn’t say no.

Marinette’s beloved grandmother, Gina, had decided to bike around the world. This was pretty much how she spent her life anyway, but now her granddaughter was legally an adult, which meant she could grant said granddaughter some much needed freedom.

Despite how little time Gina actually spent in Paris, she was the proud owner of an adorable little house. She had already willed the house over to her fairy, but now she could tell Marinette to move in under the pretense of having her house-sit. Gina paid for the utilities still, and her only stipulation was that Marinette had to keep a room clean and ready for her, should Gina show up unexpectedly.

The thought of having her own house, free of charge, even, was mind-boggling, but at the same time it was everything Marinette hadn’t known she needed. There was the natural yearning all young adults had to try things on their own, but this solutions came with the ultimate safety net. Even more importantly, it came with the privacy that she desperately needed.

While she waited for her program to begin, Marinette had spent the majority of her time at the bakery. It was fun, being with her parents and taking care of deliveries whenever Luka had a gig. It also made keeping a secret identity secret nearly impossible. This way Marinette was still close enough to help at the bakery when she needed to, but her parents weren’t constantly barging in at inopportune moments.

As they set up, somehow her things fit in perfectly alongside Gina’s like it was meant to be. The last thing the family had to do was go grocery shopping so Marinette had something to eat other than the copious amounts of pastries her parents had forced on her.

When the deed was done, it was time for her parents to leave, even though none of them were really quite ready for that.

“You’re not used to being alone,” Sabine fussed. “Are you sure you don’t want to spend just one more night at home?”

“Or we could spend the night here with you,” Tom said hopefully.

“No, I’ll be fine,” Marinette said with a smile. “I’ll be sad, but we’ve got to start somewhere, right?”

Staring at his daughter, Tom couldn’t hold it in any longer-- he started crying. “Don’t forget to call us, sweetheart, and write too! We’ll be waiting to hear from you.”

“Tom, she’s moving twelve blocks away. If she doesn’t have time to visit us, we can just pop in on her, right?”

“Right,” Marinette confirmed, eyes completely dry. “I’ll make sure to visit often.”

Finally she was able to bid farewell to her parents, closing the door to her house behind them. She milled around looking for something to do, finally settling on turning the TV on for background noise and getting to work on her latest commision.

Just as she was getting into the groove and making real progress, Marinette’s phone rang. She sighed, finishing the last little bit of handwork on that section before answering the video call.

“My little Marinetta, how are you?” Gina asked. As far as Marinette could tell, her grandmother was somewhere tropical at the moment. Where exactly was anyone’s guess.

“Good, Nona, just getting settled in!”

“Are you just sitting around at home?” she asked suspiciously.

“No, I’m working on a commission and--”

“I didn’t leave you the house to just sit around, my fairy. You need to be young and free, even if it’s only occasionally. This is your first place of your own, so go celebrate! Go out to dinner, go get ice cream, find a party to go to, I don’t care, just go do something!” Gina commanded.

“Yes, Nona,” Marinette said, knowing it was useless to resist.

“I’ll be waiting to see a picture of whatever you do,” Gina said firmly.

“Yes, Nona.”

Gina kept chatting for a while longer, but before she hung up, she reminded Marinette one more time that she needed to go celebrate somehow. Afterwards Marinette attempted to keep working on her commision, but it was fruitless knowing that her Nona expected her to go have fun.

Even though they had just bought groceries, Marinette didn’t really feel like cooking after all the day’s activities, so she decided to walk over to one of her favorite cafes. It was a ways away, but she didn’t have much else to do with her time, so she decided to simply enjoy the weather. She ate a light dinner at one of the outside tables, made sure to send a picture of it to Nona, and once she was finished, she swung by one of the nearby farmer’s markets on impulse. Yes, she had the groceries she had gotten earlier, but no grocery store could beat fresh produce like this.

The farmer’s market was closing soon, which meant that a good majority of the things that were high in demand were already sold out. There was one vendor that had one frozen chicken that she really didn’t want to take back home, so Marinette got a really good price on it.

It was nearing dusk as she made her way back to the house, but she couldn’t help but feel uneasy. There was something in the air that just felt wrong. It was kind of similar to the feeling she got from akumas, but also not. It was familiar, but twisted, corrupted inextricably. As she walked the feeling only got worse, and Marinette didn’t know if she should go find out what it was, or if she should just run away as fast as she could.

In the end, the urge to investigate won out. She was Ladybug, it was her responsibility to see to the safety of Paris as a whole. On edge from the unsettling feeling, Marinette moved through the streets discreetly and carefully.

Her instincts took her to the opening of an alleyway in a fairly quiet part of town. The feeling of wrongness was pervasive as she edged forward. It took everything in her not to gasp at what she saw.

A boy who looked about her age stood at the back of the alley was surrounded by three cloaked assailants. He could almost be mistaken for an akuma because he didn’t actually wear clothes, he was only covered by ragged bandages, almost like a mummy. The poor boy was gaunt, he looked like he was only a few steps away from death. He couldn’t be an akuma, because in all this time, Marinette had never seen one so feral.

“I have to help him,” Marinette whispered, hand tightening on the handle of the bag her chicken was in. “Tikki, spo-”

“No Marinette!” Tikki hissed waving her arms frantically. “Don’t transform. We should leave, this is dangerous.”

“What are you talking about, Tikki? That boy clearly needs help.” Marinette’s claim was only emphasized when one of the assailants drew a sword-- and actual sword being used by someone who was not akumatized.

“If you transform he’ll hurt you! We really should leave,” Tikki said, trying to pull her away. “I’ll explain at home, but we need to leave.”

Something about the boy was deeply unnerving to Marinette. His very existence felt wrong. But something about this made her think of Robin, who she hadn’t allowed herself to think about for quite some time now.

“No,” she said with steel in her voice. “I’m not abandoning someone who is scared and alone.”

“Marinette, you’ll get hurt!”

“Not if I’m lucky,” the girl said with a smile that held far too much venom.

The boy was already faltering when Marinette entered the alleyway. His eyes latched onto her for the briefest of moments, but that only caused for one of the assailants to get even closer, knife grazing the boy’s arm.

Years of being Ladybug had taught Marinette to move nearly silently, as well as where to hit to take down an opponent quickly. The first man was taken down by sheer luck--she somehow managed to hit the pressure point at the juncture of his neck despite being hooded. He fell down, immediately unconscious from her assault. The one who didn’t have a knife in hand glanced over, only to be met face first with a swinging frozen chicken.

By the time the third man turned to see her, the chicken was already swinging to knock the knife out of the man’s hand, potentially breaking some fingers as it swung. Marinette had already cracked the man across the face before the knife had clattered to the ground, leaving only her and the boy conscious in the alleyway.

He looked at her with crazed blue eyes, his pupils blown as he fixated on her. “You!” he snarled, leaping forward. “You had something to do with this!”

“No, I just wanted to help, let me--”

Before Marinette had to do anything in the way of restraining him, the strange boy staggered forward a few unsteady steps before collapsing right onto her. She hadn’t noticed the way that he towered over her before, but supporting his entire body weight helped her realize just how absurdly large this boy was. With that in mind, she should probably stop mentally referring to him as a boy.

“Marinette, this is really dangerous. He could hurt you, he already tried to!” Tikki said, once again trying to pull her away.

“Tikki, he needs my help,” Marinette said, stubbornly shouldering the boy. “I’ll keep myself safe, but I won’t leave him here!”

“You promise you’ll do everything you can to keep yourself safe?” Tikki asked, eyes baring into Marinette’s soul.

“I swear.”

“Fine,” Tikki sighed, wilting a bit. “Go ahead and transform, it will be easier and faster to carry everything that way.”

*********************

Be warned, this is just going to be me ranting about Batman lore for far too long.

Okay, so even in AUs like this that are clearly distanced from canon, I like to research and make it as close to canon as possible. For those of you that don’t know, doing research on anything related to Batman is a MESS. I’ve read “Death in the Family,” the original Batman issue where Jason dies, I’ve watched “Under the Red Hood,” just because I wanted to get a really good sense of Jason and what the whole alive again experience was like for him. I also looked into the Lazarus Pits for placement questions, and apparently there are little Lazarus pits all over the world, including in Switzerland. Switzerland is close enough to France that I just went with it.

Now for the part that REALLY kills me. I recently also watched Son of Batman, and in it, Ra’s is killed, but apparently he was too dead for the Lazarus Pits to work. However, upon looking into Jason, it is revealed that he was brought back to life after being dead for a few YEARS. I’m not even going to go into the fact that Jason’s body was complete even though he died not by crowbar, but by an explosion. I’m not touching that. Additionally, Jason was still really short and pretty scrawny from being malnourished when he died, and he somehow comes back as a beefy twenty-something year old.

TLDR; the Batman canon is a mess, so when writing fanfiction I can do what I want and it’s still canon compliant.

Let me know what you guys think!

Taglist:

@cravethosecrazysquares @krispydefendorpolice @thesunanditsangel @sonif50 @kris-pines04 @persephonebutkore @tbehartoo @corabeth11 @caffeinetheory @drarryismylife101 @bluerosette23 @weird-pale-blonde-person @mystery-5-5 @heaven428 @thethirdwheelfriend @thetinymoonflower @interobanginyourmom @chocolate1721 @akana-sama @skyel0ve @katiegardneriscoolerthanyou @theatreandcomicfreak @jardimazul @karategirl119 @thewondersoflebanon @tbehartoo @shizukiryuu @northernbluetongue @moonlightstar64 @naoryllis @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @saphiraazure2708 @yokizu @jeminiikrystal @chocolatecatstheron @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @zalladane @slytherinsheashire @bran-thecreeper-stark @otaku4312 @emotionalsupportginger @dorkus-minimus @18-fandoms-unite-08 @tired-butterfly @bamagirl513 @pauliestorylover @alenee13 @ladybug-182 @senpaiweird @kalligraphics @jessigurl-design @emeraldpuffguide @veunnotvuen @storyteller-d @g-arya @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @procrastinatingrightnow @sturchling @dast218 @trashystar420 @indecisive-mess-named-me @awesome-starfish-and-tacos

#jasonette #maribat #Let the Sunshine In #LtSI

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raendown · 5 years ago

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Day 2 of @narutorarepairweek. Today’s prompt is meet cute!

Pairing: HashiramaIzuna Word count: 1780 Rated T+ Summary: It wasn't as if he hadn't already intended to fall in love that day. Just...maybe not like this.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Adopt-a-Heart

If he were completely honest Izuna didn’t actually want a dog. What he wanted was a cat – an entire house full of cats – but his ancient landlord was allergic to cat dander and he wasn’t really looking to get kicked out of another apartment. Finding housing in this city had gotten a little insane over the years. It wasn’t as though he didn’t like dogs, though, so with a longing glance towards the wall of cages filled with tiny inquiring faces Izuna turned down the hallway to where the dogs were kept.

Visiting the local shelter was always a gamble. One never knew what sort of animals had been abandoned or surrendered, what state they would be in, what abuses they might have suffered. Izuna clenched his fists inside his pockets to brace himself and took a deep breath before pushing the door inwards with one of his feet. He knew the sort of sad and lonely faces that would probably be staring back at him until he found a new companion for himself. He knew he couldn’t afford to take all of them home.

He wanted to though.

In general Izuna considered himself to be a man of great strength. Perhaps not physically but he had excellent self-control and when absolutely necessary he could exhibit incredible patience. Never had his strengths been so tested as this moment walking past cage after cage with doleful eyes staring up at him in the hopes of finding a home in his arms. If only he had the space and money to take every single one of these poor creatures with him, he would have in a heartbeat.

The apartment he lived in wasn’t suited for a large dog, however, and he knew if he got a small dog his brother was likely to terrify the poor thing in to a tiny heart attack. Madara was even more of a cat person than Izuna himself. With sorrow in his heart he slinked past a little teacup poodle someone had probably bought because it was cute and then abandoned after realizing that even small dogs required lots of work. Then he clutched his chest and hurried past a Great Dane he desperately wished he had a massive yard for.

When he first stopped it was to peer through the bars at an Airedale who looked in need of a good grooming. Their neighbors growing up had owned two Airedales and he’d always loved their funny faces. Izuna stepped closer – and then scurried back when the animal burst in to motion, snapping and snarling in a raging frenzy. All animals deserved love but this one didn’t seem to have the right disposition for him.

He wandered along and stopped again to peer in at a Malamute who stared back calmly, head cocked to one side with curiosity. When he shuffled forward this time there were no sudden reactions and it brought a smile to his face, a little more hopeful than he had been a moment ago. Despite knowing better Izuna still slipped a couple of fingers through to give the pup something to sniff. Small cooing noises whispered from his lips but he was disappointed when all it earned him was a sneeze before the dog laid its head down and looked away. Either he didn’t smell interesting enough or this was an animal jaded from too many opportunities offered and taken away. Or maybe the thing was just tired. Who was he to say?

Eyes lingering on the pretty beast he could have happily kept as a companion, Izuna stood up and made a mental note to come back here and try again to win this heart in case there was no one else who caught his interest. A maudlin sigh escaped him as he turned to walk away without taking his eyes off the Malamute.

Which turned out to be the best mistake of his entire life. Izuna grunted in a sort of breathless way when he crashed headlong in to a solid wall that somehow managed to be both soft and hard at the same time. Something rumbled above his head, something else began to snuffle near his feet, and it took several seconds for all this information to sort itself out as he wavered back and forth dizzily from the impact. Bringing one hand up to rub at the neck muscles which had not appreciated a sudden stop at that angle, Izuna finally cracked his eyes open to see what he’d run in to.

Then he craned his head back with his eyes rapidly widening as he took in the absolute mountain of a man currently trying to apologize to him. Which was, apparently, the rumbling sound he’d been hearing.

“Are you alright?” the man was asking with a mildly frantic expression. “I should have been looking where I was going! Oh gosh, I didn’t mean to, I was just distracted with the- I like dogs! That isn’t to say I don’t like people – I love people – I certainly didn’t mean to run over you like that!”

Izuna continued to stand and just stare as the man rambled on. Eventually he was able to tear his gaze away from the gorgeous face, travel down that gorgeous body, and spy a cheerful little cloud of white peering back up at him. While the pup – Uzushio Eskimo if he was right – wasn’t exactly small, it looked tiny standing next to this human tree. Izuna had the sudden visceral thought that he would give his very last dollar to climb that man like a squirrel. His thoughts were predictably followed by a wild blush.

“No, I’m fine,” he managed to choke out eventually. “I like your dog.”

“Oh he’s not mine. I volunteer here!” The declaration was made with so much pride that Izuna’s heart very nearly melted in his chest. Gorgeous, tall, kind, and an animal lover. He certainly was ticking off quite a lot of boxes.

“So he’s…he’s up for adoption then? Because I was looking for a new partner. Pet! I mean, er, I was looking for a new pet. To take home and stuff?”

Resisting the urge to smack himself in the face for slipping like that was difficult but he managed. Watching an incredible smile blossom across the tree man’s face helped quite a bit, he could admit that easily. Izuna thought to himself that he would probably do many things for that smile. Most of them illegal. He whined quietly to himself when the man leaned forward right in to his personal space where he could inspect velvet brown eyes from up close.

“Would you like to spend some time getting to know him? He’s such a good boy!”

“Ah, would you be there too?” The question slipped out entirely without his permission and Izuna cringed inside to sound so needy.

“Oh, are you afraid of dogs?” Eyes wide and entirely sincere, the man took a firmer grip on the leash in his hands. “If you’re afraid of dogs then getting to know him would be a very good idea before you adopt. It makes them so sad to be taken home and then brought right back here.”

Heart melting in his chest with every word, Izuna swallowed thickly and accepted the fact that he was about to make an utter fool of himself just to clear the sad look on a stranger’s face. With a renewed blush and a clearing of his throat he let his eyes fall to the floor, inspecting the tiny white face staring up at him with eager eyes and a bright pink tongue lolling out.

“I, ah, I’m not afraid of dogs. You’re just…I was hoping to get to know you. You’re…hot.” Where, he wondered desperately, had his usual silver tongue gone? Not in years had he sounded so awkward.

“Me?”

Kneeling down to pet the dog seemed like a much better way to distract himself than standing there like an idiot and staring off in to space so he did that, nodding as he went down. Fingers scratching at a fluffy white chin, cheeks nearly on fire with embarrassment, he nodded. “I really am interested in adopting though so if we could pretend I didn’t just make a giant idiot of myself that would be wonderful.”

For a handful of moments there was silence but for the sounds of the animals shifting and barking and growling in their kennels. Nothing like true silence, though it was enough to have him cringing at this uncharacteristic awkwardness. In his thoughts he cursed his landlord for being allergic to cats, unwittingly leading him in to this situation. Would that he had met a man like this on any other day when he would have been able to turn on the charm and win himself at the very least one night to make a more lasting impression. Now the only impression he was leaving would surely be that of a blithering idiot.

“Maybe you would like to come spend some time with both of us?”

Izuna’s head snapped up so quickly he was surprised the entire thing didn’t snap off and roll on to the floor.

“Nnngghh?” he gurgled intelligently.

“It’s protocol that staff or a volunteer be in the room the first time a prospective adopter wants to spend time with one of our animals. Ah, I would be very pleased if you got to know both of us.” Somehow the man achieved even higher levels of cute when he broke out in to a shy grin. “My name is Hashirama. It’s very lovely to meet you.”

“Hashirama. That’s a nice name. I’m Izuna and I have to say, the pleasure is all mine.”

Grateful to have a little of his usual confidence back, Izuna happily accepted the hand that reached out to help him back up. If he maybe shivered a little at just how big the other’s hand was around his own, well, it wasn’t like he hadn’t already made his thoughts clear on that matter. And if he let their touch linger when Hashirama pulled away who could blame him? He’d known the man all of two minutes and already he wanted more.

When he left two hours later he had a new puppy trotting before him on a leash and a new number saved in his phone that he very much intended to call the next day. In only one conversation he had somehow managed to fall in love – not just with Hashirama, not just with the companion happily wagging his tail, but with the future suddenly spreading itself out before him, unexpected and entirely welcome.

#rae writes #narutorarepairweek2020 #hashiizu #hashirama #izuna #fanfiction #modern au

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lowat-golden-tower · 5 years ago

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Hooked on Volleyball

I got inspired by @pistachiolan and the crossover art they made for Haikyuu!! and Sanders Sides. Basically an adjusted take on the scene they parodied with the character replacements. I tweaked some of the dialogue, and there’s quite a bit of Logan introspection, but otherwise the scene plays out as in the anime.

This is also my first time writing Remus, so... take that as you will fhusd.

------------------------

Logan couldn't believe he was going to do this. After eagerly turning down the offer to join the students from the other schools in their free practice, he was crawling back to the third gym with bones still weary from the day's matches. Part of him wanted nothing more than to return to the dorms for a hot bath and a good, long rest. But a figurative fire had been lit within him, metaphorically burning away at his internal organs and filling him with the subtle buzz of a curious energy.

It was just a club. He might not even pursue volleyball after high school. There were more vital things he could be doing to nourish his mind and body than training it for a few years of matches.

Just a club. Just a tournament. Just an accolade.

Then why was he here, standing in the light pouring out from the open doorway of the third gym? If asked, Logan wasn't certain he could articulate a proper answer. He just... was. Following his gut, or his instinct, wasn't exactly his normal course of action and yet...

He could hear the sounds of the ball smacking against the hardwood, and the shouts and jeers of those older students who'd half-accosted him prior. His grip tightened on his towel and he practically glared through the protective netting ensconcing the doorway. Well, standing around on the stoop would earn him nothing but a chill and some new mosquito bites. If he was going to pursue this particular path, then he should take the proper steps. Even if half of him still wasn't sure just what he was doing there.

Up the stone steps, ducking through the netting so that he could come to another halt. His expression was still stony; brows slightly furrowed in that near glare as the three boys within stopped to acknowledge him. He felt the curve of his fingers dig into the damp material of his towel again.

"Oya?" The one with the silver streak, Remus, from Fukurodani piped up.

Roman, from Nekoma, was right on his heels. "Oya? Oya?"

"Oya? Oya? Oya?" Only for Remus to repeat himself, thrice, completing the irritating onomatopoeia and instantaneously making Logan have several regrets about his latest decision. De, also from Fukurodani, merely eyed him with that cool, calculating gaze. None of them seem surprised at all.

Logan wasn't sure if that made the whole situation more or less annoying. Honestly, he knew they could be bothersome, he'd witnessed their behavior to analyze their personalities long enough now. He shouldn't be surprised by any of it, either. Setting his jaw, he strode forward, forcing himself to close the distance between them. Roman and Remus were both hosting confident little smirks and it set off an infuriating itch, one which felt as if it were in Logan's veins; impossible to scratch. He halted, cleared his throat, and managed to keep his tone even when he spoke. "There's something I'd like to ask you. May I?"

"Sure!" Roman and Remus chorused almost in perfect synchronization, while De remained silent and observant. It was so uncanny to witness it actually took Logan aback for a moment and he had to blink, nudging his brain into a polite response.

"Thank you very much." He gave a slight nod. "Both of your schools are sometimes considered powerhouse schools, correct?" Logan assumed as much, as they were often discussed in volleyball magazines- or their members, at least, like Remus. But it was best to double check straight from the source before he went pursuing those assumptions. Strangely, both Remus and Roman seemed perturbed, with Roman actually looking offended. De's expression, of course, didn't shift in the slightest.

"Well, yes, of course! And not just 'sometimes,' all the time!" Roman was the one to practically snap back, clearly irritated.

Logan decided to press forward, hoping his question would smooth over whatever slight he'd committed against his elders. "Even if you were to make it to nationals, actually winning there would be difficult, correct?"

Unfortunately, that just seemed to aggravate Roman further, though this time it was Remus who was quick to snap up with a furious vigor in his voice. "But not impossible! Nothing is impossible!"

"Now, now, let's hear him out. This is just a what if." Thankfully, De was calmer headed than the other two, and did his best to smother the growing flames Logan was unintentionally fanning with his hypotheticals. Neither Roman or Remus complained further, but neither looked very happy.

Logan decided to just be honest. "I seriously cannot fathom how everyone can be so determined. Volleyball is just a club, an extracurricular activity, and perhaps you can write, 'I worked exceptionally hard in my club in high school,' on your resume, yes? But that's all."

Remus's already tense expression tightened even more, and a particular glint entered his eyes. "Just a club?" The words growled themselves out of his throat. As if Logan had suggested Remus was a criminal, or insulted him personally. Again, the visceral reaction took Logan by surprise, but Remus wasn't finished. His eyes narrowed and his lips pursed into a pout. "That almost sounds like someone's name." He made the statement with complete seriousness.

"Ooh, like Mary Club?" Roman was quick to jump in, intrigued.

Remus considered for a moment, then shook his head. "No wait, I guess it was 'just some club.'" He rubbed at his chin. Logan could only observe the two, utterly flummoxed, though he felt validated in the fact De hosted a similar expression.

"Dash it all! So it doesn't sound like someone's name. So close to some witty wordplay!" Roman whined, stomping a foot.

Remus clenched his fist. "Damn it!"

Logan finally decided to try and rein the topic back to where it needed to be. "Are you basically asking me to retort?"

"Don't. There'll be no end to it," De assured him with a deep sigh.

Abruptly, Remus turned to Logan. "Say, four-eyes."

"It's Logan."

"Say, Logan-eyes... is volleyball fun?" There was a playful smile dancing at Remus's mouth while he stared Logan down expectantly.

Granted, it took Logan more than a moment to answer. He paused, gaze drifting from the wild-eyed teen to actually ponder the question. It was after much thought and deliberation he finally looked back to the person he was speaking to and spoke honestly, yet again. "No..."

"Maybe that's because you suck."

It was just about the last thing Logan expected to hear. It shook him to his very core. In a split second, he was simultaneously offended and flabbergasted. Remus had made the claim as if there was no question about it; as if Logan's ineptitude with the sport was simple fact. It figuratively made Logan's hackles raise to such a degree he could feel every muscle in his back and at the back of his neck tensing up. For better or worse, the statement had shocked him enough that he couldn't formulate any kind of response before Remus spoke again.

"I'm a third year and I've been to nationals, and I'm better than you. Far better!" He boasted his skills, briefly flicking fingertips to his chest in an arrogant sort of pose.

Logan heaved an exhausted sigh. "You're stating the obvious." Of course Remus was better than him. He was older and stronger, with more practice and experience under his belt. If Logan happened to be even a degree better than one of the top four spikers in the country then they wouldn't even be having this conversation.

Remus rolled right past his interjection with some honesty of his own. "But I only recently started thinking that volleyball was fun." That surprised Logan, and caught his attention, allowing Remus to continue further. "I believe it was when my straight became usable in matches! Because my cross hits that I was really good at kept getting blocked, I got frustrated and practiced the hell out of straights. Heheh, only on the court, though." Remus's grin was cheeky, as was his wink, which made Roman boisterously laugh and De roll his eyes. "And... at the next tournament, the same blockers couldn't touch it! I got right past them. Should have seen the looks on their faces, you'd think someone had taken a shit in their sneakers!" The frustration was replaced with an almost manic grin, as Remus clenched and proudly raised his fist. "Just that one shot made me feel like my time had finally come." His head dipped back in a grand laugh, his expression content.

Yet when his eyes opened, they were honed directly on Logan. They almost seemed to stare through him, trembling him at the core in a more subtle fashion than the earlier call out. He actually took a step back out of pure reflex. "It all depends on if you have that moment or not." Shadows flickered across the ace's face, an almost intimidating and palpable aura rising up from his broad shoulders while he stared Logan down. "It doesn't really matter what happens in the future, or if you can win your next match. The joy you feel beating the lout in front of you, and when you're able to pull out 120% of your potential, is everything. Everything!"

Logan could only stare at the other boy, utterly speechless, mind a whirlwind of thoughts and new information. Remus wasn't providing him with any facts, figures or statistics, or actual advice he could practice on. What Remus spoke of was something deeper than physical; a type of mental fortitude and will to improve, to best the opponent. Sentiments unfathomable to Logan.

"Well, at least that's how it is for me, and it doesn't mean that applies to everyone." Remus confessed with a shrug. Of course it didn't. That sounded like pure insanity to Logan. "I don't really understand why you say 'it's just a club,' but I don't think you're wrong. But once that moment arrives for you..." Slowly, Remus lifted his hand, raising a finger to point emphatically at Logan with a confident fluorish. "...that's the moment you'll be hooked on volleyball."

Logan's eyes widened a fraction of an inch. It was a lot to process, yet at the same time nothing at all. His logical thinking was quick to be split straight down the middle; acknowledging how such a mentality could be fruitful, while just as eagerly dismissing the advice as emotional fluff and nothing particularly impactful. He was at an impasse, figuratively struggling through the mental mire for what nuggets of wisdom the ace had clearly just been trying to offer him. As such, he failed to notice the older boys moving in until it was too late, and he suddenly found himself surrounded.

"All right. I answered your question, now help with blocking." Remus quipped cheerily to Logan's left. His head whipped around, eyes widening further with realization.

"Wait-"

Remus placed a hand on his back, and Roman followed up with a hand between Logan's shoulder blades. "All right, now. Come on, hurry it up."

They weren't going to take "no" for an answer. Logan was so stunned by the sudden turn of events he could only gawk, boggled, and walk stiffly towards the net. "Wait, what..."

To the side, De sighed, giving his head a slight shake. "A tit for a tat, how about that...."

#hq!!#sanders sides #crossover #logan sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #deceit sanders

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mutantsrisingrpg · 5 years ago

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Congratulations, GHOST! You’ve been accepted as PAN.

I’ll be honest, Ghost, when I say Eoin wasn’t originally a character whose skeleton brought out some deep emotional connection in me while I wrote it. But really, that made me all the more excited to see what someone would come up with, especially when I read your app and you made me really feel for Eoin. You gave his fighting a reason and brought direction to anger and made me want to know what’s next for him. I can’t wait for you to show me that on the dash, now!

Welcome to Mutants Rising! Please read the checklist and submit your account within 24 hours.

Out of Character Information:

NAME/ALIAS: Ghost

PRONOUNS: He/him

AGE: 30

TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY LEVEL: CET, but mostly operate on American terms; while I try to put in 100% where activity is concerned, I’m at the whims and mercy of both autism and ADHD, so it’s what it is

In Character Information:

DESIRED ROLE: Eoin Dougherty / Pan

GENDER/PRONOUNS: Cis man, he/him

DETAILS & ANALYSIS:

Pan, god of the wild, and wild he is. Eoin Dougherty hasn’t historically been an easy person to deal with. He’s the still waters that hold deep, dragging depths; the cyanide in your drink as your nose detects the bitter almonds, but far too late; the thick mist with the sense of danger beyond what you can see. It would be a lot safer for everyone involved if he was outwardly as wild as the mess of emotion inside him. But on the surface, he’s calm, unassuming, not someone you’d accuse of discord. It’s the calm on the surface that makes him unpredictable, and Eoin isn’t one to give out his thoughts and opinions for free. He listens, he watches, and when he disagrees, he’ll let you know, with actions rather than words. He’s the trouble in his own life, and his problems exist simply because he acts before he speaks — one day you’ll assume you’re okay, the next you’re getting your ribs beaten in with a four-by-four in a back alley. Anyone might think that he’s a very together person, quiet and good at following orders, but inside he’s an ever raging storm of dissent, of mistrust, of toeing the line and going a little further. The acid that drips until it’s burnt a hole through your fuse box, lighting up your whole house.

BIO: (tw: abuse)

Eoin had a rough start. Born and raised in Boston, Massachusetts, his parents were a (self-)righteous cop and a housewife trying to keep the household together. Getting by on a cop’s salary was hard on everyone involved, and it would’ve worked out fine if his mother didn’t have to bear the brunt of his father’s rage. Perhaps it was a feeling of inadequacy, or frustration with the way his life stagnated, or feeling failed by society despite putting his life on the line every day, or perhaps it was a combination of all of the above; Eoin never bothered to psychoanalyse his father, and furthermore, never really came to a point where he thought he deserved it. Whatever the reason or non-reason, it lead his parents to fight almost every night. He and his mother would walk on eggshells whenever his father was at home, and the slightly comment or look would set him off. He’d had to watch his father’s fist connect with his mother’s face far too many times in his lifetime, had to listen to his mother cry quietly as he crawled into bed with her — the only way he knew how to comfort her.

From a young age, Eoin knew something was different about him. After another violent night, hearing his parents yelling at each other, there would be tiny handprints in his stuffed animals. His plastic soldiers would turn into a molten, bubbling mess in his hands as he listened to the cries of his mother and the rage of his father, alone in his room. He was almost a teenager when his father forbade his mother to buy him any more toys; the assumption was that he was breaking them on purpose and thus didn’t deserve nice things.

Teenage years didn’t bring much improvement. Eoin was quiet and never participated in class. He had no friends, so he was an easy target for bullies — or so everyone thought. Fighting became more and more common for him, and by the time he was fourteen, Eoin Dougherty was a name well-known by staff and his principle. His father accused his mother of being too soft on him, except his mother was the only one who didn’t blame him for the dark shadows in his eyes. His mother would always be his soft spot, his laughter and smiles, his safe place. When his father had to work late were the happiest nights for both of them, watching movies and eating popcorn until he fell asleep in her arms.

One night changed everything, as often it does when dramatic things happen. Another day at school of fighting, his upper lip still bloody, knuckles still busted, it hadn’t been his mother who had picked him up from school. It hadn’t been the soft sigh of his name, a gentle hand on his cheek, the sweet voice telling him he couldn’t keep doing this. Instead, it had been his father. The soft sigh was an angry growl, the gentle hand was a slap, and the sweet voice was a snarl telling him what a continuous disappointment he proved himself to be. Dragged out of the car by his hair, he would’ve been at the wrong end of his father’s wrath if his mother hadn’t intervened for his sake and taken the brunt of it.

There was something about seeing his father’s hand around his mother’s throat, about her head banging into the wall, about the blood dripping down her temple, that made something snap in Eoin’s gut. Without so much as a word, Eoin had grabbed his father’s face, and like the plastic soldiers from his childhood, watched his father’s face melt away without so much as a blink or a twitch of the eye, to the chorus of screaming from both his parents.

The thing with cops was that they backed each other up, so the news of his father’s death — visceral murder, really — didn’t go over well at the station. Eoin and his mother knew that this would put him away for a very long time under normal circumstances, but they’d both heard the stories about mutants and the rumours what would become of them. His mother had told him to keep his mouth shut whatever happened, and that’s what Eoin did. Even as the police arrived, even as she explained what happened, even as she told them how she’d poured the acid on her husband’s face, having snapped after the years of domestic abuse.

The sentence was fifteen years in prison, and her son cast off into the foster care system, with no extended family who would touch that particular situation with a fifty-foot pole. His secret was safe, but that was the only thing that was safe.

No foster family would have him long enough for him to settle and find some sense of normalisation, so Eoin spent most of his time out on the street, doing everything illegal and then some. Drugs, breaking and entering, assault, battery, theft, carjacking, even extortion. By the time he was eighteen, he’d made as many friends as he had enemies, and the system ejected him like trash — no prospects, he was a high school dropout with a mean streak, a reputation, and a talent for winning and ending fights. If things had gone on as they had, he would’ve lived a hard, fast life and a short one at that.

But they didn’t go on; a few years on the street, a person with a bone to pick seeing his powers and outing him as a mutant, life on the street turned into life on the road, dodging authorities and anyone who would care enough to out him or snatch him off the street, whisk him away to some unknown place to do who knows what with him. He trusted no one, and everyone was suspicious. Even as he arrived in Chicago, more lenient to his kind, and got in league with the Collective, trust was far from Eoin’s mind. He did as he was told, went where he was ordered, and watched, listened.

EXPANDED CONNECTIONS:

STELLA LI — Eoin is used to being a disappointment. Overall, that’s where he dwells, doesn’t care to prove otherwise, because giving people standards meant having something to live up to, and that just wasn’t what he cared to do. Eternal underachiever, maybe. But Stella boils his blood, not because he doesn’t want to disappoint them, but because he was written off on one mistake, a mistake that wasn’t technically even his mistake. What pisses him off even more is that he wants to prove he’s more than just that one incident, that he cares so much to try to lift himself from the disappointment he’s marinated in all his life, and prove to them that he’s more. Better. Problem is, he barely even believes it himself on the best of days, and they’re so… infuriating.

GERRARD BERMUDEZ — If there’s one thing Eoin knows how to do, it’s fight. When the offer comes, he doesn’t really think twice about it. He’s an unknown in this city, or at least, he doesn’t think Gerrard knows about his surface allegiances — his loyalty isn’t very easily handed out, after all — and it’s a good opportunity to flush things out of his system, to not go soft, a throwback to when life was… well, just a little bit easier. Does he trust Gerrard? Absolutely not, not nearly as far as he can throw them, but he doesn’t have to trust anyone to take advantage of a good thing. After all, isn’t that how he ended up with the Collective in the first place?

EXTRA: [Here] is mockblog. [Here] is pinterest. [Here] is playlist.

Worn leather jackets, hoodies, ripped jeans, and boots is basically Eoin’s aesthetic, he looks like he walked out of a trash heap and he’s not about to correct people, because that requires speaking to them.

He’s not a bad person per se, he just doesn’t care for authority or law or being told what to do, really, and if the fastest way to get from point A to B is illegal, well, then, call him a criminal, I guess.

There’s this thing about his powers in that… it’s like a tension that builds up in his body, and the longer he goes without letting it out, the more agitated he gets. Every now and then he just… needs to let it out, and it’s the best feeling ever.

Eoin often wears earphones, even when he’s not listening to music. There’s nothing more annoying to him than having to remove one because some asshole feels entitled to his attention. Fuck off.

Is there anything he owns that doesn’t have a hole or two in them? Probably not.

He’s a functional addict. Functional in the way that, most days he’s fine and he can manage without, and then one day shit gets too much and he just gets absolutely fucked up with anything he gets his hands on, and spends the next day or two out of his goddamn mind. Self-care.

Don’t tell him he isn’t allowed to do something. He will look at you pointedly and do exactly that thing.

Does he like that everyone thinks of him as a disappointment? No. Does he care enough to prove to people he’s more than that? Also no.

You can call him a bastard every day for a month and nothing happens, and then one day he rips off your jaw because he’s Had Enough.

ANYTHING ELSE: No. Kiss.

#accepted #accepted: pan

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popatochisssp · 6 years ago

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Fur a Good Time, Call... 1/15

Series: Undertale, Horrortale Relationship(s): HT!Sans/Reader Chapter Warnings: animal cruelty, entirely off-screen and non-graphic

You work at an animal shelter. You love all your fuzzy buddies and can't imagine a better job for yourself than looking after cats and dogs all day, even when the work is hard and often gross. What can you say? You've got a lot of love to give!

You're just not quite sure yet how you feel about the new monster who's been helping out these days, and this riddle wrapped up in an enigma is something you just can't resist investigating...

AO3 Link

Prologue - Curiosity

You weren’t quite sure what to make of the new guy.

When your boss had bullied you into using some of your vacation days, you hadn’t been thrilled. You’d protested, actually—you didn’t have anywhere you wanted to go and no social life to speak of, and the animals needed you!

There was always so much to be done at the shelter and you prided yourself as one of their most dedicated full-timers. If there was a dog needing a walk or a cat screaming for some dinner, you were right there with a smile (and some silly baby-talk), ready to take care of it.

Pets were your passion and nothing made you happier than to help out the ones that hadn’t found their forever-homes just yet.

But…maybe you were working a bit too hard. As the shelter manager was quick to point out, you were going on three years without a full day off and no matter how much you loved the work, burnout was a thing that happened to people and not something she wanted to happen to her best worker.

Flattery: your Achilles’ heel.

She insisted on a break, no less than a week, and since you were so worried about the animals, she’d even try to get a couple extra volunteers to keep things covered while you were out.

You caved in and had a frustratingly great week at home doing absolutely nothing and then went back to work where the same amount of nothing had caught fire in your absence.

Everything was totally fine, great even, thanks to the irreproachable work of the newest volunteer your manager had dug up.

“hey. where’d you want these again?”

You turned, jumping just a little when you came face to sternum with the man himself. He was staring down at you from his considerable height, his single brick-red eye large and glowing as he waited for your answer… probably about the three pallets of kibble he had slung over his shoulder.

“Oh! You can just put those over by the dog room, I’ll take it from there.” You smiled at him, hoping you looked friendly. “Thanks for getting them, I can never reach without the step-ladder!”

He just shrugged. “s’cool. i got it.”

And then he was off, moving far quieter than you thought a skeleton of his massive size should be able to.

Then again, it’s not like you knew many skeletons: it was just Sans.

Monsters had come up to the surface only a year ago: creatures of magic emerging from the depths of the earth like out of a fantasy novel, but all too real. Humanity was collectively horrified and demanded an immediate response to their arrival, governments from all over the world snapping into action faster than any bureaucracy had moved in centuries.

And you were so proud of your dumb species for the first time in a long time.

The appalling conditions of the Underground and the hunched and broken bodies of the monsters who emerged from it had triggered a visceral, emotional response in nearly everyone who saw them. In an outpouring of pity and compassion, monsters were quickly granted legal rights, facilitated access to very necessary health care both physical and psychological, and even regular stipends from relief fund donations to help them establish stable lives.

It was true humanitarianism at its finest, people banding together to right a terrible wrong and it warmed your heart to see it happen. There were dissenters, of course, bigots here and there who thought monsters were evil and should’ve died Underground, especially after…what was done to the humans who had fallen down there….

But Queen Undyne, the monster monarch had taken full responsibility for all of those deaths already. Even now, she was serving out her prison sentence for it so it wasn’t as if justice wasn’t being done just because her people weren’t locked up with her.

You may not have known all the details but you didn’t think you needed to and your opinion was one shared by the majority: humans put them down there and humans should make it better. Monsters were owed at least that much.

Even in spite of the government money they were receiving, the grateful monsters who were physically able seemed quite happy to return the kindness given to them, entering the human workforce wherever they could and giving back as productive members of their new society.

That was the category that seemed to best fit Sans.

When you’d first come back to work, he’d been… a little bit of a shock, to say the least. Going to say hi to all the cats you hadn’t seen in days and finding a towering and frankly terrifying death-omen standing silently amongst them had actually really rattled you.

You had frozen, just a little, transfixed by his blazing eye-light and the jagged, gaping hole in his skull that looked positively grisly.

It wasn’t until your manager came in behind you, introducing him to you as the new volunteer that you noticed that the ‘death-omen’ was wearing a fuzzy hoodie and a frankly adorable pair of novelty skull slippers and you realized how rude you’d been.

Things had gotten busy, as they always did—litter boxes to scrub, animals to socialize, families to interview—and you kind of lost track of him, but you did ask around.

“Sans? Nice guy, a little bit of a scatterbrain maybe, but I’ve seen worse,” was the endorsement from a long-time coworker of yours. “I’ve never had to show him something more than twice, so y’know, he’s already better than Michael, god, remember Michael?”

“He kinda creeps me out,” another volunteer told you, “but the animals love him. One time, I saw him carrying around that big Rottweiler in one arm like it was a baby or something and she was totally cool with it.”

“He’s been great so far,” your manager had promised. “I think you two will work really well together.”

Oh, yeah, sure. If he didn’t think you were a total monsterphobic jerk by now.

You’d spent basically every day since you’d been back, in between actual work, trying to talk to Sans. Not to apologize for freezing like a scared deer, the window for that was probably way past, but… you could be better going forward, right? If you were actually nice and showed some manners better than a wild boar’s, you could be friends…right?

Wrong. So wrong.

You discovered quickly that Sans was as much of an enigma as he was deceptively scary. He rarely spoke and when he did, it was quiet and to the point; never anything about himself.

It actually hurt your feelings a little bit at first until you learned that it didn’t seem to be personal. Nobody at the shelter seemed to know anything about Sans: even the big boss maxed out at knowing he just showed up one day asking to be put to work.

If anything, though, learning that just made you all the more determined to befriend him.

Sans was a mystery and the less you realized you knew about him, the more driven you felt to figure him out. Who is this skeleton in comfy clothes who comes in most days and works hard for no money and barely says a word to anyone? You wanted to find out, even as it was proving just as hard as herding cats.

Harder, probably. The cats usually pay pretty good attention if you’re holding something jingly.

But you were getting way too in your own head and there was work to be done, lest you’d made Sans lug all that kibble from the stock room for nothing.

A deafening barrage of barks and whines greeted you from the second you opened the door to the dog room and it brought a smile to your face.

“Oh my god, I know,” you laughed, “I know, I’ve been gone for like an hour, I could’ve been dead!”

Princess, a pit bull mutt and the biggest, whiniest baby you’ve ever seen in your life, certainly seemed to think so. She was the closest to the door and whimpering at you with her paws up against the chain-link of her enclosure, wiggling so hard it rattled.

“Alright, jeez, I’m here now, aren’t I?” She looked right at you and let out a long, low whine that sounded so pathetic you had to laugh again. “You want lunch first? Will that take the sting out of my betrayal?”

A loud bark was your answer from Princess, and from every other dog in the room. They didn’t know a whole lot of human words but anything food-related got picked up real damn quick.

“Okay, shush, then, I’m on it, you all know the drill.”

You headed over to the big bags of kibble propped up against the door jamb, right where Sans had left them, and got to work.

It used to be that you felt a little silly talking to the animals as if they could understand you, even when you and them were the only ones in the room, but those days were long behind you. They understood your tone of voice at least, so you were happy to chat with (or at) your furry wards about whatever popped into your head while you doled out their food.

It was a step up from talking to yourself… which you’d definitely also done. You hadn’t been exaggerating that ‘no social life’ thing, but it’s not like you’d ever felt lonely.

“Well, maybe not never,” you muttered, nudging an eager little bulldog back with your foot to edge into his room and set down one of the bowls you were holding. “But not like…seriously. I see everybody here all the time, plus adopters, and the cats, and you guys. That’s plenty, right?”

You looked down to realize you were being pointedly ignored, a little doggy face planted firmly in his food. “Yeah, you’re plenty. Good talk, Smoochie.”

If you weren’t already pretty sure you were going to end up as a crazy animal person, this might’ve been the moment it hit you.

You didn’t really have time to dwell on that, though, not with the downright chilling screams that suddenly erupted from outside.

Automatically, you found yourself headed for the noise, goosebumps prickling up on your skin from the awful quality of the sound. You just barely remembered to fasten the latch of the cage one-handedly behind you before walking, jogging, running towards the lobby where it seemed to be coming from and what were you going into that it could be heard from so far away in the building?!

There was a loud clatter and even more screaming and when you finally made it through the door, you skidded to a halt.

And your heart broke.

The horrible, discordant screaming sound was coming from a dog. The poor thing was skinny, shaking, fur so matted and dingy that it couldn’t even see through it, every worst nightmare you’d ever had from those Sarah McLachlan commercials come to life. It looked like it had knocked over some chairs trying to scrunch itself into a corner and was cowering in a puddle of its own pee. And screeching every time it heard a noise.

You didn’t often see ones this bad, but it didn’t hurt any less when you did.

“Oh, baby, no,” you whispered. “What happened?”

You hadn’t been talking to anyone in particular so it startled you when you got an answer.

“H-he slipped his lead,” you heard and turned to see one of the new volunteers standing beside you, wide-eyed and holding a useless green rope in her hands. “I don’t know… I was just… What do we do?”

Glancing around, you suddenly realized that you were the most senior person in the room. Even with the trickle of onlookers drawn by the noise everybody else was just hesitating at the edges of the lobby, nervous and unsure while the poor animal wailed and shook in front of them.

Right, then. Up to you.

“Go get the vet,” you told the volunteer and took a step forward, reaching out to take the lead from her fingers…

…only to watch a much bigger, paler hand close over the rope instead of your own.

Sans took it, silently ghosting his broad body between you and the girl and heading straight for the dog.

Your jaw nearly dropped. A million thoughts raced through your head at once—where did he come from? What is he doing? Shouldn’t you stop him? He barely has any experience, he’s not even staff!— but when you tried to say something, your throat was too tight and all that came out was…

“Be careful…!”

Sans didn’t even turn. “it’s fine,” he said, just as soft-spoken as he ever was. “s’just a little spooked, that’s all.”

You watched with bated breath as he knelt down, right in front of the scruffy animal. It prompted a fresh bout of screaming that made you flinch, but Sans acted like he didn’t even hear it.

“heya, bud. there’s no need for all’a that, is there?” The dog’s mismatched ears flicked once, but immediately flattened back against his head. Sans kept talking. “it’s good here. we’ll take care of ya. it won’t be like wherever ya came from. nobody here’s gonna hurt’cha.”

It was the most you’d ever heard him say at once and the deep, sonorous quality of his voice was a surprise to you. His tone was slow and even, almost lulling; it was putting you at ease, so to see the poor dog responding the same way, his hackles lowering ever so slightly and his shriek dying into a pitiful little cry shouldn’t have been so shocking.

You were amazed, anyway.

“that’s it, bud. there ya go.” Sans raised the rope, moving it carefully to the dog’s head.

Once he was leashed, it should be a little easier to coax him to the vet’s exam room. He’d get checked out, bathed, shaved, fed, and settled into his own little kennel.

Thank god you were under capacity right now, you’d really lose sleep if you had to turn this one away. As long as he was here, you could help him.

But there you went, getting ahead of yourself again.

The dog panicked at the very last second. He lunged forward, snapping his jaws shut on the closest target—Sans.

Your gasp was loud in the tension-quieted room, chorused by others and even a muffled yelp from the receptionist, everyone alarmed by the sight of Sans’ blue hoodie caught in a semi-feral dog’s muzzle.

You had already taken several steps forward—to do what, you had no idea—when Sans just cinched the rope into a proper lead around the dog’s neck with a triumphant, “gotcha,” as if he hadn’t just had a sharp set of teeth successfully come at him.

You were speechless for several long seconds. Had he…not noticed? Did the dog just graze him? Was he even bleeding? If he was, you’d want to drive him to the hospital just in case, you never knew what a strange dog could be carrying and even if it was shallow, the stomach seemed like a terrible place to get bitten…

And then, the obvious hit you.

The dog had lunged at Sans’ abdomen. The abdomen he didn’t have. Because he was a skeleton.

Oh, god, duh.

Of course Sans was fine, that bite had never come anywhere near him. You wanted to physically facepalm, just a little bit, at your own apparent stupidity but that would hardly be helpful right now.

You managed to take some slight pleasure in knowing you weren’t the only dumb human in the room that’d had the same thought and then tried to forget it. “You okay, Sans?”

“yeah, we’re fine,” he answered easily. The dog may have disagreed, having unlatched himself from Sans’ hoodie and, when that last defensive bid had so totally failed, resigned himself to making heart-wrenching crying noises and continuing to cower. “he’s not happy, but i got ‘im.”

There were sighs of relief all around. You scanned the room, seeing the tension fade and normal activity start to hesitantly resume—and the volunteer girl still standing by the door.

“What are you still…? I said to go get the vet!” you reminded her, maybe a little more sharply than you intended because she squeaked and scurried off.

You immediately felt a little bad about it. Seeing an animal in such bad shape for the first time wasn’t easy and not all newbies had the kind of brass ones Sans did.

Sans, who suddenly turned to look right at you and said your name.

“I…. Me?” You wanted to kick yourself for saying that. There was only one you at the whole damn shelter, but Sans didn’t seem to care.

“yeah, c’mere. he’ll probably chill out a little if he’s got some food, right?”

You were already moving forward again before you fully realized what he meant—the shiny metal bowl of kibble in your hand that you’d apparently run all the way here holding, stars, what had that looked like? But if you were accidentally prepared, you probably shouldn’t criticize yourself too hard.

You knelt down next to Sans, moving carefully but the skittish animal still yelped and scrabbled when he heard you coming. There was a blur of blue and suddenly Sans’ arm was between you and the dog.

“it’s okay, pal,” he soothed. “you’re fine, stay cool, just friends here. you want some food, don’tcha?”

That was your cue. You placed the bowl on the floor and gently slid it over to the dog before pulling your hand back.

The dog whined again, upset and unsure. You couldn’t quite see with Sans’ arm in the way and straightened up to look over it, bracing just one hand against his humerus. The dog was blinded by his own matted fur but he could clearly smell the kibble and his nose found its way to the bowl, sniffing cautiously with his tail tucked between his legs.

You slumped in relief when he took the first hesitant bite, and the ravenous second, third, fourth.

Thank god.

Sans seemed just as pleased, lowering his protective arm and looping the lead around his other hand, shortened for better control. He said your name again and you turned; even kneeling, you still had to look up.

“you should pet him,” he said. “i don’t think he’ll bite again.”

Glancing at the dog, you agreed, but also… “Why me?”

His one red eye met yours, gleaming with earnest sincerity. “you’re good at dogs,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Grass is green. Water makes stuff wet. You’re good at dogs.

Feeling unaccountably flattered, you reached out and carefully stroked your fingers along the dog’s back. He flinched at the touch but didn’t stop eating or try to bite again, so you had high hopes for his adoption chances later on.

You kept petting him, crouched on the floor of the shelter lobby next to a gentle giant of a skeleton and watched the dog finish the whole bowl.

“That’s a good boy,” you cooed. “You’re gonna do just fine.”

It felt like you were there for a long time, but eventually you heard footsteps and finally, the vet arrived. He was flanked by a couple of other staff members, bigger guys who you knew had experience with nervous and aggressive dogs.

Sans stood, and you with him, and you watched as he gingerly handed over the leash to one of them and let them coax the dog forward. The vet was already looking him over even as they got the little guy moving and you were relieved not to hear him point out anything that sounded too serious.

Soon they had all filed out to take care of business and it was just you and Sans left there in the lobby. Even the receptionist had fled for a coffee/need-a-breather-right-now break and you didn’t blame her.

“So that was…intense.”

“yeah.”

You turned more fully towards Sans and tried to catch his gaze. “You’re okay, right?” you asked. “Like…really okay?”

He looked at you like you’d said something bizarre. “said i was, didn’t i?”

“Well, people say a lot of things, and that was…a lot, even for somebody who actually gets paid for it. You’re good?”

Sans didn’t look any less bemused. “…yeah.”

He didn’t say anything else for several long moments. His single glowing pupil was cast down away from your face and when you followed it, you saw…

Oh jeez, your hand on his arm, still.

You pulled back immediately, feeling yourself go red and hoping he didn’t notice. “Sorry!” you definitely didn’t squeak. “Sorry, that was…. Oh, no, your hoodie…”

Sans looked down and quickly spotted what you just had— three sizeable holes torn into the bottom of his sweatshirt, right at the hem of the pocket. He picked at it, poking two thick, bony fingers straight through. “huh.”

“He got you pretty good.” You winced a little at the damp tear in the fabric: it was a jagged rip and pretty frayed. “I’m not sure that’s gonna be salvageable. Sorry.”

By the expressions Sans kept fixing on you, you’d have guessed you were the most confusing human on the planet. “what for?”

“The holes? That’s your favorite jacket, isn’t it?” You hesitated, realizing you didn’t actually know that. “Or at least, you wear it all the time. I kinda guessed you just loved that thing.”

“i do. but it’s just a thing. shit happens, y’know.” He shrugged. “’sides, not like anybody got hurt, right?”

“…Right.” Of course. That really was the most important thing.

That, and cleaning up the mess your new little friend had made of the lobby.

You sighed just looking at it but it wasn’t about to fix itself so you dove right in, picking up chairs and moving them to the side while you skirted around the puddle on the floor as best as you could.

“……can i help?”

The gentle inquiry from Sans made you pause. The man got literally snapped at not fifteen minutes ago, at a place where they worked him like a…well, like a dog without even having him on the payroll, and he still wanted to help?

Sans really was something else.

“You could get the mop and bucket for me from the supply closet,” you said lightly, pointedly not making it an order. “And maybe finish feeding the dogs for me? I hadn’t even gotten halfway through when all of this mess happened, I’m sure they’re not too happy about that.”

“yeah, sure.” But Sans seemed just a little nervous all of a sudden, his permanent grin looking more like a grimace while his eye-light darted quickly to one side. “uhhh…which dogs did you already…?”

You smiled. “It was Tina’s turn, but I didn’t pick anything back up. Any cage that doesn’t have a food bowl in it needs one.”

The skeleton’s shoulders slumped in relief. “okay, cool.” That was an easy way to remember what needed doing. He probably wouldn’t have to come back and ask you again like he did some other times. “i’m on it.”

You opened your mouth to thank him, but between one blink and the next he was gone.

Literally. Not even a motion-blur, just gone. You turned to the reception desk to see if anybody else had just seen that, but of course it was still just you there—you and the mop and bucket that had just appeared where Sans had been standing when you’d looked away for no more than two seconds.

“Well,” you announced to no one. “That’s new.”

No one was very appreciative of your dry and pithy wit, you were quite sure.

You grabbed the mop and got to work on the glamorous task of wiping up urine, just one of the many hidden perks of your job—that you really did love, warts and all.

You really weren’t sure what to make of the new guy, but after today you were damn well going to figure it out.

Next Chapter

#fur a good time call #myfic #undertale #horrortale #sans #sans/reader #ht!sans #fanfiction

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dark-canary · 6 years ago

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Earthly Events and Visceral Visions.

Hail and Hallowed Hunting my friends and fellow witches. It has been a hot minute! I've been fairly busy trying to get myself sorted since the New Moon. And I have quite a few little things to update you on, plus a trance that I did today. I'm afraid this is going to be a long post but I'm going to try and get better about updating more regularly (now that I have a proper schedule for myself) so that you'll get short frequent posts instead of long ones. So, first thing is first, some mundane personal life updates. I went out for Valentine's Day Weekend and had a lovely time. Got some new clothes. Went out to eat. Got some new tennis shoes so I can work out without pinched toes and a cute pair of boots because they were buy one get one and I couldn't resist. I've been delving into creating low carb meals, finding things that work that also taste good. If you guys would be interested in some recipes like that please let me know. I made an amazing stew the other night and it was probably the best one I've ever had. I had my Full Moon ritual Tuesday and I know I didn't post about it. I usually do but this ritual was unfortunately fairly unproductive. I had trouble focusing and staying in trance so it didn't feel like I accomplished much. That same day I went for a consultation for the tattoo that I intend to get. One that is both an offering and a symbol of myself and my faith. It's fairly detailed and I hope it turns out well. I'll be getting it done on Friday and should be able to post some pictures then. I also made some daily goals for myself to fit into my schedule. To workout or do some cardio for at least 30 minutes, meditate for at least 30 minutes, stay below 30 net carbs a day (because carbs make me really sick if I eat too many of them), and to write a minimum of 500. So far I've been keeping to those for the most part. But honestly some days I feel accomplished if I complete even just one or two of them in a day. I've reached the 6,000 wordmark on a story that I'm writing which is more than I've written (as far as stories and poetry go) in the last year, maybe two. I'm losing the weight I gained from my Valentine's week splurge (who can resist discounted chocolates???). Though truthfully it's because I spent the first half of that week having to eat cheap food of convenience because I was dead broke and the second half eating rich celebratory foods. So it serves me right. But I'm holding strong now and plan to continue to do so. Meditation has been the hardest goal to achieve honestly. I haven't been very focused lately, not since my Full Moon ritual, and that's exactly why I decided to meditate every day. But I've really been struggling with it. So today I sat down and made myself descend into trance instead of trying to do a light meditation. And this trance was much more vivid than the one I received during my Full Moon Ritual. So I am going to share that trance with you. Warning: Mild gore in the form of skinning an animal. Keep in mind this was just a vision. The first thing I remember is blood. War, pain, chaos, death. Anguish. And my hands, covered in blood and clutching a black staff with the bones of ravens or crows strung to it, held together like biology skeletons on wires. They moved with my movements. Wings flapping, rattling, while the black cloth draped and draped again around my body waved and winged with the wind. And I saw the ocean in front of me, waves moving as I moved with the staff. Rising higher. Dangerous but remaining offshore. And behind me, the woods, dark and snow covered, hollowed by silence and filled with watching eyes. And then, in rapid succession, the dark wood rising up and closing around me like ocean waves, blackness and the sun being swallowed by the moon and then those two swallowed again by the jaws of darkness. And finally the mushroom cloud of an atom bomb originating at the tallest tree I had ever seen, followed by endless void. A nothingness between myself and that cloud as it morphed into a petaled rose that was handed to me. And when I let it go it drifted from my hand and became an orb and from that orb burst a butterfly. When it cleared from my vision I was in the woods once more, within the snowfall and silence. And I was, in very vivid detail, skinning a wolf. I could feel the blade in my hand slicing skin from muscle beneath, the glide and glint of it. Felt as it cut through bone, remove four paws and the head. Could sense the ceremony and sadness in these actions, the sickness it caused inside of me. Regret, guilt, resignation, nausea, and then hardening of body and soul a strength in doing what needed to be done even if I didn't want to do it. I pulled the fir, still covered in blood, and draped it over my shoulders. When I stood again, the paws of the beast were dangling from a necklace made of leather chord and other bones around my neck. I sensed more than saw the other carcasses. The remaining of an entire pack of wolves. Not just one. But the black paws around my neck, the black and gray and white fir draped over my shoulders, belonged to the head of that pack. There was a strange shift, and I saw myself walking from the woods from outside of myself, standing in a clearing that I was walking into. The woods were black behind me, dark beneath the blinding snow. And my hair was wild, slicked with gore, clumped and curled with it. My movements were surefooted, steady, cold, but my eyes were just as wild as that hair. And I seemed to see myself because the one walking from those woods looked right at me and smiled. A strange, sad, crazed, composed smile. All of these emotions flashing at once. Then, I snapped back into my body and woke. And that was the end of the trance. It was so vivid, so visceral, that it left me feeling quite strange after but I was happy I did it in the end. If I'm feeling up to it I may descend again tomorrow. But I have a planned trance for this Friday so if I don't get to it before then it's alright. I want to thank you all again for your patience. I know I go for stretches at a time in silence and suck at keeping you guys up to date sometimes. Especially lately. But I am trying to get better. My door is always open, both asks and dms, so if you ever have any questions or comments don't hesitate to reach out. Be safe everyone! I'll update again very soon. Hallowed Hunting, Aria

#witchblr #seidr #trancework #spirit work #tattoo #vision #an update #a long update #Aria speaks

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kenzieam · 7 years ago

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You and Me and the Devil Makes Three - Chapter 3 (Eric and Fox)

Rating: M (Language, Violence, Lots of Smut)

Genre: Drama/Angst/Humour

Thanks everyone for the re-blogs and support!!! IT IS SO AWESOME!!!

@emmysrandomthoughts @beautifulramblingbrains @iammarylastar @tigpooh67 @bookwarm85 @badassbaker @captstefanbrandt @treeleaf @beltz2016 @girlwith100names @gaia25 @readsalot73 @slayer0507 @stone-met @lostinthebeans @lauraaan182 @girlslovestorys @lacy-love @fuckthatfeeling @sparklemichele @vitaevandal @micolegg @jaihardy @bookgirlthings @queenara4 @bluelassbird @mom2reesie @pathybo @letmagichappen @shaunarcanine @equalstrashflavoredtrash @itschibi @elaacreditava @lilu46 @tonyt1995 @jojogoo65 @littlesouthernrebel @sterek-foreverandever @kirstenisntkirsty @frecklefaceb

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A huge thank you to my beta, right hand and Jai-sister @iammarylastar ! Quelle equipe!

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****** TRIGGER WARNINGS - Mentions of Rough (consensual) sex, Violent sex ********

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Fox warily poked her head out of the bedroom the next morning. She’d tossed and turned and paced all night, running over and over again in her mind what had happened the night before. Her body throbbed in a dozen different places, and her thoughts were a tangled mess. What the fuck! ERIC! There was no denying the sex had been incredible, beyond anything Fox had ever experienced, but whether this was due to the emotions they’d been caught up in or, god forbid, some form of natural chemistry Fox didn’t know, and frankly, right now she didn’t want to.

She'd spent part of the night inspecting her emerging marks and bruises. She and Eric had been rough with each other, no doubt, and Fox looked like she'd gotten into some kind of brawl. Finger-shaped bruises coloured her upper arms and hips, bite marks marred her throat and breasts, and long scratches pulled on her legs. Her muscles ached like she'd been training hard and her throat was sore from yelling. Fox had had wild sex before, but never like this, and the flashbacks, Jesus. His lips on hers, his hands. The moans and rumbling groans deep in his chest. The way he's slammed into her, filling her so completely, punishing her in the most amazing way. She tried not to remember the way it had felt to straddle him, roll her hips, feel him deep inside and see how her body was affecting him, see the raw emotions, rage, anger... the way his face had twisted in sweet pain as he'd finally poured himself inside her, shuddering and roaring in release.

Her entire life at Dauntless so far had been spent butting heads with this man, and last night they had shattered that, crushed their previous dynamic between their straining bodies, battered apart the wall between them with each thrust of Eric’s hips and sinuous roll of Fox’s. Her pulse had raced again just remembering the way he had moved with her, inside her, both of them caught helpless in mind-destroying lust.

Fox froze as she stepped into the kitchen, Eric was leaning against the counter, a cup of coffee steaming in his hand, another sat on the counter beside him. He met her eyes reluctantly and Fox saw instantly that he was struggling with this just as much as she was. Shit.

Fox closed her eyes for a moment as flashes of the night before assaulted her senses and she shook her head to clear it.

“I made you some coffee,” Eric offered, holding out the other cup. Silently Fox accepted it and retreated to the other corner of the kitchen to sip it. Damn, the man could fuck and make a good cup of coffee. Fox wrapped her fingers around the cup to mask her hand’s shaking.

“Fox.... we need to talk about what happened.” Eric began quietly.

Fox shook her head, she wasn’t ready; she’d never be ready.

“Yes we do. Fox, I -”

"No."

"Dammit! Yes! We can't pretend that-"

“No Eric! We don’t need to talk about anything. Nothing happened last night.”

“What? Are you seriously going to try and tell me that?! You know damn well-”

“WHAT HAPPENED WAS A MISTAKE!” Fox screeched, the cup falling from her hand and shattering in a spray of hot liquid. Eric stared at her in shock, but Fox could see he was mounting another attack so she headed that one off too. “It was a mistake and we are NEVER going to talk about it again! Ever!” Fox was shaking, rapidly losing control of herself. She whirled, sprinting into her room and slamming the door.

Still shaking, Fox emerged a few minutes later, dressed in warmer layers, pulling a thick hoodie over her head. Eric was still in the kitchen, he’d cleaned up the mess and was now sitting at the table. Fox avoided his eyes as she walked in, could feel his gaze on her the entire time.

“Where are you going?”

“Out.” Fox replied shortly. “I’m not leaving, I’m just need to be by myself for awhile.” She paused as she passed Eric and heard him inhale then hold his breath, waiting for her to speak, but she turned her head away and continued walking, Eric’s eyes following her as the door slammed.

Eric dropped his gaze wordlessly back to his cup. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Fox exhaled once the forest had closed in around her and the cabin was no longer visible. She was wound tight, a bowstring of conflicting emotions right now. Her mind screamed for mercy. Shaking her head, she started to run, letting the cold wind whip her thoughts away. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Eric was aimless, wandering without purpose through the cabin. It was truly a rare day when he didn’t have something or somebody demanding his attention; even on his infrequent days off most people still acted like he was working, but this was different. Eric couldn’t have concentrated on work or leadership duties even if he had to, his thoughts were caught in a continuous loop.

He’d woken up cold on the floor, naked and sprawled out, sticky with their combined fluids, with irrefutable evidence of what they had shared, what they had done. Fox wanted to act like nothing had happened, or worse, that it was all a big mistake, but Eric couldn’t, not yet, maybe not ever.

The remainder of the night had been sleepless, restless. Eric had cleaned himself up then paced in his room, wondering if, across the cabin, the subject of his pacing was doing the same. Eric didn’t know what to think, what to feel. He and Fox had been enemies from day one, their first conversation the template for the rest of their relationship.

She’d been the first jumper of that year, a feat that Eric would have noticed anyway, but her hair and attitude took the cake. Eric had never seen such a vibrant shade, a fox pelt red, but he couldn’t have imagined any other colour fitting the fiery transfer. Her first order of business after landing in the net was to drop to her feet in front of Eric and raise her eyebrow at him, looking thoroughly unimpressed. Not even Eric’s gruff bark of ‘name?’ seemed to shake her.

She’d grinned at him, noticing him eyeing her hair and said quite simply. “Fox.”

“Fox?” He repeated dubiously.

“Did I stutter?”

Eric had opened his mouth to let this cocky little transfer have it but just then the second jumper had landed in the net with an anguished shout. Eric heard the jumper’s arm snap even over the sound of the net and he could only yell over his shoulder, “first jumper, Fox!” before turning back to the howling figure. The Candor transfer had managed to squeak by initiation, using their cast as a battering weapon during fights, and was showing promise as a Fence Commander, but Eric had never forgotten his first conversation with the Amity spitfire. She’d gone on to excel through initiation, her mouth getting her out of as many scrapes as is it started, but the seed had been planted. Fox had gotten his attention, negatively or not, right from the get-go.

His body had throbbed and ached for her the rest of the night; his cock hard and begging for more. Flashbacks had tormented him as they did with Fox, and his body bore the marks of Fox's rage as hers did of his. Fox had been a wild animal on top of him, riding him like he'd never experienced before and it had fired his blood like he'd never thought possible. No woman had ever gotten this deep under his skin, no sex with anyone had ever been this visceral and pure, this emotional and raw and Eric worried that he was now addicted, body and soul. But even as his body strained for her, his mind fought back. They were enemies, polar opposites and one crazy round of, okay, the most amazing sex he’d ever had, was not going to change that. He and Fox didn’t know how to relate to each other, how to communicate with the other like normal people did, their normal was chaos, pranks, indignation and rage.

But, fuck, last night.... Eric couldn’t stop the memories and his body hummed with anticipation and desperate want. Feeling Fox pulsing around him had been incredible, listening to her rage and roar even as she’d fucked his brains out had been the hottest, most amazing thing he’d ever experienced. He wanted more, he needed more, maybe he was addicted, maybe he'd found his ultimate drug.

After Fox had left the cabin, after she’d screamed at him that what they’d undeniably shared ‘was a mistake’ Eric hadn’t known what to do. He wasn’t in the habit of lying to himself, and last night had stirred feelings in him that Eric hadn’t even known he’d had. He needed to think through them, figure out what he wanted, try to decide if what had happened had been a one-time thing, a temporary leave of his senses, or the beginnings of something more. He needed to know if the addiction he felt was surmountable; or was his heart given, to the most unlikely of people.

Either way, he and Fox needed to talk, and soon.

Meanwhile, his body was raging, demanding some type of exertion to relieve the pent-up tension in him. Another round with Fox, on the couch maybe this time, or in bed, would be the ideal solution, but currently not possible; so Eric found himself outside, chopping wood for the fireplace. It was a welcome distraction, even if the burn in his muscles, so akin to the fire that had raged through him as he’d thrust into Fox did little to relieve his current muddled state. Soon a large pile of firewood was stacked beside him and he’d come to a decision.

He wanted more, he wanted to see where this could go.... he wanted Fox. When she returned to the cabin tonight he would be waiting, ready to talk, ready to confess his burgeoning feelings for her and hoping she felt the same. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Fox swung her leg over the branch and leaned back against the tree trunk. She’d walked until she’d found the perfect tree to climb and sit in. Her entire childhood she’d escaped to the forest, escaped her hellish home life by disappearing into the trees. She could sit up in the crook of the branches for hours, thinking, decompressing, preparing herself for the misery that waited for her when she got home. She’d learned early, through bitter experience, to never rely on others for support or help, to never show weakness which would then be exploited by those you were supposed to be able to trust, to never, ever show your true feelings. Fox had grown up with the surety that she was lesser, inferior compared to her siblings. Her father, a worthless drunk, had denied his paternity of her for as long as Fox cared to remember, her red hair a flaming scarlet A her mother had painted on her. Her mother, beaten down by life and her husband’s fists, had never spoken of who Fox’s father could be, had taken the secret to her grave a year before Fox was able to drip her blood on the Dauntless coals and escape. Her father had finally drank himself to death last year, and Fox had celebrated with black raven’s wings tattooed across her back, a symbol of her flight, her escape from the prison she had been born into.

Dauntless had been the ideal place for Fox, deep connections with other people wasn’t necessary; they were the protectors of the city, they could die at anytime, having a good time was most important. Fox had soon realized that, in addition to being naturally gifted at it, she loved sex, and Dauntless was the perfect place for no-strings-attached fun. She never had to get close enough to anyone to worry about how they could hurt her, how they could betray her trust or find out her weaknesses to use against her, even her friends were kept at a certain distance, and Fox could almost say that she was happy. Only Max knew that, at his gentle insistence, she’d had a few sessions with a therapist in Amity after becoming a Leader and although those sessions had allowed Fox to let go of the majority of her anger, her wariness of human interaction was learned, too deeply ingrained to be changed.

Her immediate reaction to Eric had been her instinctive mistrust of authority and the power they had over you. They’d started butting heads early, while Fox was still an initiate, and she’d used this as her fire to succeed, to come out the better in at least one of her major acquaintances with someone; her father had won against her, started beating her down literally and figuratively before she was even old enough to try and run away, and Fox wasn’t going to let any other male have that over her again, so she’d fought back, directly, indirectly, until it had become their normal, and, at times, even fun.

The times Fox had lain alone at night and imagined Eric hovering above her, inside her, their bodies joined and straining together, Eric’s grunts of exertion, his helpless groans in her ears, she’d always dismissed it as ridiculous, some convoluted fantasy she was imagining only because she was feeling horny and didn’t have a dick to ride. There was no way she felt anything but competitiveness and begrudging respect for her ex-trainer and co-worker, there was nothing else there, except hate and anger. Eric had always been a dick to her, and she’d been a bitch back, it had worked.... until now.

Fox jolted out of her reverie and realized that it was rapidly growing dark around her, she’d lost hours today thinking, something that used to be commonplace for her but hadn’t happened since she’d transferred to Dauntless.

“Shit,” she muttered, shaking the chill from her limbs and scrabbling down the tree. Jolts shot up her half-asleep legs as she hit the ground but Fox was already turning back towards the cabin. Eric would probably be pissed, if only because she’d left him all day to stew. She’d cobble something together for supper and burrow in front of the fireplace until she was warm, ignoring Coulter if he wanted to buzz around her like a giant fly. Although Fox knew exactly where she was, it still took awhile to get back, she’d wandered farther than she’d first thought, and it was full on dark before the cabin’s lanterns grew visible. Fox saw a large shadow move in the window. Shit.

The door opened before Fox even reached it and she pushed past Eric before he could start the inevitable fight. Fox stormed into the kitchen, her declaration of ‘don’t look at me like that, I told you I’d be gone,’ dying on her lips as she saw the table. Eric had cooked for her, picked wildflowers and set them in a cup. For her. She stumbled to a stop and stared. She heard Eric walk in behind her.

“I told you we needed to talk, so I thought I’d cook for you. I found some flowers... and I thought you’d be more willing to hear me out, but... it’s cold now, so don’t bother.” He brushed past her, crossed the room, then paused and leaned in the doorway, eyes downcast. Reluctantly, Fox raised her gaze to him. She'd never seen him like this, so disheartened.... he'd waited for her, he'd really wanted to talk to her and she'd been her regular selfish self, mooning away up in a tree, tangled up in her own egotistical problems.

“I don’t know what last night meant to you, but to me.... it was amazing. I can't get it out of my mind. Yeah, we were mad at each other and it was rough and it started out as pure hate sex, but,” he rubbed his palms down his jeans, like he was nervous. “Something happened, to me at least. I can’t stop thinking about you, or the way you felt, the way you made me feel. Last night was the.... best sex I’ve ever had, and... I want... more, I want to get to know you, the real you, not the fucking wall I’ve been fighting against for the last two years. I want to see where this could go. I think we have something, I think there’s something there, something real and worth pursuing.... what do you think?” Slowly he raised his head, searching Fox’s face for any sign of what was going on in her head.

Fox was stunned. How could she continue to hate him, keep herself safe by keeping him away when he’d just laid out his heart like this to her? How did he even have that depth, that capability? He was a man, all they felt was power over the weak, and righteous anger, a twisted superiority, they didn’t love, at least not in Fox’s experience. This was too much, Fox just couldn’t right now, she had no idea how she even felt, let alone hearing Eric’s feelings, she couldn’t deal right now, just no.

“Eric, I.... I can’t, not right now.” Fox pushed past Eric, felt him grab her upper arm.

“Fox, wait, just-”

“NO Eric!” Fox shrugged off his grip and, heart pounding, disappeared into the safety of her room, slamming the door behind her.

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