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bigskydreaming · 4 years ago

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Doing some writing today off and on between errands and work, and jumping around various Kings of the Sky installments, specifically Dick, Jason and Cass stuff, so probably gonna post snippets from a bunch of them as I go.

(Kings of the Sky is an AU that goes canon divergent from the point of Jason calling Dick for advice for dealing with Bruce after the Garzonas case and where things end up going dramatically different from that point on. Including Jason not dying, being part of his own lineup of Titans between Dick and Tim’s, Dick being adopted not long after the Church of Blood incident, Cass being the third Wayne kid to be taken in and adopted and with Tim and Duke being next and then Damian coming along later once they find out about him. This is basically my ‘the family’s alright’ AU with largely ‘Good Dad Bruce’ except for Dick and then Jason yelling some sense into him about the other, respectively, in the first two installments, just FYI).

Anyway, this bit is from a story called “In Their Shadows Grow Trees Of Good and Evil,” set about a year after Cass has been adopted, when she and Jason are both sixteen and Dick’s twenty-one. Also just FYI, because canon has never been specific about what ways Cass is neurodivergent due to the comic-book style ‘rewiring’ of her brain so that she could learn to speak later in life, I tend to go with her being dyslexic and having aphasia. She sticks exclusively to sign language and being a silent presence in her costumed personas, so that there’s no chance of people connecting the dots between Black Bat and Cassandra Wayne, as she mostly speaks verbally in her civilian persona and doesn’t hide her aphasia. The reason there’s not likely to be any obvious signs of aphasia in the snippets of her I post is because I wait until I complete something to choose words at random to replace with aphasia-born mixups, so its more realistic and I’m not gearing her dialogue towards deliberately placed moments. Just in case you were wondering.

In Their Shadows Grow Trees of Good and Evil

“Hey Todd,” sneered an exquisitely obnoxious voice. “Why’s your sister so fucking weird?”

Jason sighed the sigh of a soul a mere century into its eternity of damnation as he rose from the lunch table he’d been studying at and crammed the rest of his books into his backpack. Then he pasted a cheerfully bland smile on his face and turned around, geared for academia warfare (teenage prep school edition).

“Hey Craig,” he said brightly. “Why’d you come out of the womb so ugly your parents had to tie a piece of steak around your neck just to get the family dog to go near you? Mysteries abound.”

The advancing junior slowed a step, momentarily rocked by his truly impressive return volley. The grimace Craig’s already gargoyle-esque features twisted into made his face even more unpleasant to look at than usual, which was quite the feat. Jason would have applauded if just looking at it hadn’t already turned him to stone.

But the bargain basement basilisk kept on towards him rather than turn tail and skulk off to pop his emotional blisters, so Jason sighed a sequel to his first one. Looked like it was one of those days where Craig felt up to powering through. Guess someone had eaten their self-esteem Wheaties that morning. Joy.

“You think you’re pretty hot shit, don’t you, Todd?”

Jason shrugged. “I mean, to be honest I kinda have a one track mind, so right now I’m mostly just thinking about punching you in your mistake.”

“My what?”

“Your face,” Jason elaborated with exaggerated patience.

“Huh?”

“Oh my god, I’m saying your face is a mistake. See, its not as fun when I have to stop and explain it to you. Ugh, you ruin everything.”

He neatly sidestepped the older boy as R2-Dumbass stayed frozen, smoke coming off of his internal CPU while trying to catch up. For a second Jason thought he was home free, but then he remembered the universe fucking hated him so haha, sucks to suck. Also, a small crowd had gathered to witness the verbal jousting match, and nothing invigorated an asshole like Craig more than an audience of like-minded peers. So there was that too.

“Whatever. Laugh it up all you want, you little shit,” the junior rallied. “But just remember, mocking your betters will never change the fact that you were born street trash and you’ll be street trash until the day you die.”

Honestly? Not his best effort. Jason almost felt bad using any of his good material. Seemed like overkill at this point. But he did have a strict Scorched Earth policy to maintain, so.....

“Yeah but my dad could buy out and ruin your dad so that means I still win, right?”

He smirked as the barb landed and Craig’s face set into a sunset vista of strangled purple and furious red. Bam. Direct hit.

“Listen, you - “

“Oh for fuck’s sake, it was rhetorical,” Jason interrupted. “I don’t actually care what you think even a little bit. Nobody does. You don’t matter. Please go be irrelevant elsewhere, you’re fucking dismissed, you loser.”

“Speak for yourself, charity case.” Oh goodie, Craig’s backup singers had finally arrived. Now if only he could remember to care enough to learn their names in the first place. Seriously, who told the extras they could have lines? “All the jokes in the world can’t change who and what you are.”

Jason shrugged and continued nonchalantly up the hill to where his sister was standing with arms crossed, staring down at something on the other side.

“True genius is never appreciated in its own time,” he tossed back over his shoulder. “I’m sure I’ll be immortalized in song eventually.”

The mob of morons deigned to let him go without further incident. Though he suspected that had less to do with his scathing wit and more to do with him being headed towards Cass. She was immaculately presented as always, wearing the Gotham Academy uniform like she was born to it despite hating its uncomfortable stiffness every bit as much as he did. But that was just Cass for you.

For all that she still struggled at times to engage verbally or speak up in social settings, her mastery of body language remained without peer. She could chameleon-camouflage her way into matching poise and posture with anyone - a skill that had allowed her to walk into school on her very first day with her head held high as though she owned everything in her sight. Exuding so much Queen Bee Intimidation Factor even the other hive queens were afraid to approach her themselves. Sending forth their drones to try and woo her into an alliance, only to see her remain oh-so-casually above it all, a slightly contemptuous smile adorning her lips.

Basically, she scared the shit out of their classmates without them having anywhere close to a true understanding of why, and Jason was outrageously jealous. Rude. Unfair. Why did his siblings always get all the cool toys when all he had was his rakish charm, scintillating intellect and debonair.....nah, who was he kidding. He was fucking awesome.

“Sup, sis,” he said, cresting the hill to stand beside Cass. “Just FYI, I just took a popularity bullet for you, which means you owe me your dessert tonight. Its a family rule that’s totally a real thing and definitely not something I just made up right now because Alf is making chocolate soufflé.”

She made no acknowledgment and remained stock still, a Colossus at Rhodes peering down into the shifting shadows of the parking lot below.

He peered down as well, though with absolutely no idea what they were looking at. Solidarity, yo.

“So are we staring fixedly at anything in particular, or should I just pick my own spot and commit?”

His humor was totally wasted on her as always. Instead of laughing and telling him what a lovable goof he was, she just inclined her head in the direction of a blonde girl where she was standing next to the driver’s side door of a Mercedes-Benz, dictating final commandments to her peons before departing. Well, probably. Jason was just guessing, based on his own body language reads, and like, general disdain for literally everyone at this school that wasn’t related to him.

He made a face. An extra special one reserved just for this classmate in particular. “Ugh, Madison Dunleavy? She’s the worst.”

Cass raised a cool eyebrow. “I thought Craig Hendricks was the worst.”

“He is. They’re both the worst. Its a hotly contested position here at Gotham Academy.”

She rolled her eyes and nodded back down at the Queen of Air and Darkness. “So. You know her?”

“Nope,” Jason said. “Come to think of it, I’ve actually never seen her in my life. No idea who that is. Can’t help you, sorry. Shall we go home?”

The Eyebrow of Inquisition speared him with clear intent. Who the fuck needed words when you could pack the Encyclopedia Britannica into a single facial expression?

Jason sighed gustily.

“I had a slight altercation with her freshman year that led to her declaring her undying enmity for me until the end of time. The word nemesis may or may not have been thrown around once or twice. I can’t recall.”

The Eyebrow of Inquisition lowered nary an inch. Ugh, she wanted more? Why did everyone in his family hate privacy, with the obvious exclusion of himself when snooping through Cass and Dick’s rooms for blackmail material, which was actually intel-gathering and thus another matter entirely.

“Okay so basically what happened was my first week here I overheard her talking shit about me and not even twenty minutes later she was pretending to kiss my ass in homeroom, like probably because of Bruce, y’know? So I just busted out laughing and told her to fuck off and die and she has inexplicably loathed me ever since.”

Avoiding further Eyebrow Inquisition-ing, he made a show of peering around aimlessly. When the silence extended and it was clear Cass was absolutely not going to break first, Jason waved a hand in dismissal and took to peering oh so casually at his fingernails. "I suppose I was less tactful back in those days.”

He chanced a look up, finally, and saw his sister’s eyebrow had somehow managed to mighty morphin power ranger its way into a configuration evoking both judgment and disbelief, with the latter perhaps aimed at the idea he was significantly differing in the tact department these days either.

“I don’t love the implications your face is making right now,” he told her.

She ignored him, because of course she did.

“Does she know Dick?” She asked instead. Jason shrugged.

“I mean, maybe? She’s probably seen him around at one of those stupid galas we have to go to, and actually I think maybe she has an older brother who was either in Dick’s grade or like, one above or below it? I don’t know.”

Now both eyebrows were doing the dance of disbelief. Okay, so maybe that was poor situational awareness on his part, since it wasn’t like Gotham Academy was a big school with a ton of other kids and also he’d only been in the same class as Madison for like over two whole years, but whatever. There were extingent circumstances.

“Look, she’s a total snob who’s always looked down on me and in return I willfully ignore both her existence and that of everyone and everything even tangentially related to her. Its called equality, Cass.”

She pursed her lips and went back to the peering, because of course in the mind of Cass it made total sense that the Grand Inquisition didn’t need to be followed up by any explanation on her part, what the hell. Like was he supposed to have inferred it?

“What’s this all about anyway?”

“I heard her talking about Dick earlier,” she said without peeling her eyes away from her personal recon mission. “I don’t know what she said though, I just heard her say Grayson, and then I was busy looking at what her body was saying. I know it was about Dick because she shut down when she saw me. And I didn’t like the way she....looked....before that happened. The way she was talking. It was.....”

Jason frowned but held back any follow-up questions while he waited - with total patience because he wasn’t an absolute cad, thank you very much - for his sister to find the word she was hunting for. It was a major source of frustration for her, that whatever neural map her brain followed put body language and spoken language in totally different regions of her brain, separated by a fairly great divide. Meaning she usually had to make a conscious choice to focus on body language or conventional languages - whether verbal or sign. But it tended to be one or the other; she’d yet to master taking in and comprehending both forms of ‘language’ at the same time. And none of them had quite figured out how to convince her that she wasn’t actually missing anything when she chose to focus on one specific form of communication - that she was still observing far more than most people ever would.

“Proprietary,” Cass settled on at last. She nodded her satisfaction with her choice of word, and Jason waited a whole two point five seconds before sticking his whole foot in his mouth.

“Proprietary?” He asked with a scrunched nose as he weighed that for possible context and implications. “You sure?”

She glared. He winced. It was a whole thing.

“Yeah, I know, sorry, sorry, I heard it the second it was out of my mouth. We don’t actually have to experiment with the legitimacy of if looks could kill.”

Cass rolled her eyes, but eh. That could’ve gone worse.

Jason swiftly redirected attention anyway. Discretion is the better part of valor, after all.

“So. The Queen of Air and Darkness was talking about our big bro, and her mood was.....proprietary, huh?” He recapped while digesting the info like a boss. “Well. Definitely not loving that, I gotta say. Hold please.”

Pulling out his phone and pulling up his most recent texts, he began typing furiously.

“What are you doing?” Cass asked.

“Texting Tom,” he replied, because duh. Hah, now it was his chance to have the answers that should be patently obvious and thus make with the ‘are you kidding me’ when she asked obvious questions she should know the answer to! How do you like them apples, sis?

“Why are you texting your boyfriend right now?”

Jason rolled his eyes, because fair is fair, but never ceased texting for a moment. Time was of the essence here, probably. Well, maybe. Okay probably not. But it’d still been like half an hour since he and Tom had last texted and that’s a very fucking long time in teenage years.

“To be our getaway driver tonight, obviously.”

She stared at him. He didn’t look up, but he could feel it anyway. He was very intuitive like that.

“What?”

Jason heaved another sigh, one keyed to tones of ‘oh my god, do I really have to spell this out,” exasperation. He was just racking up the bonus points here. It was really too bad this wasn’t an actual competition he could actually win and this was all just pettiness taking place wholly in his own head. Lame.

“Well, clearly we now have to go snoop in Madison’s house aka lair to see if its actually a house or a full on lair. Because she’s either a creeper or like, legit evil, and its important to know which one before we proceed, because obviously we can only bust her for being a weird creeper about our brother as Jason and Cass, whereas if she’s legit evil, that’s gotta go down as Robin and Black Bat. I’ll handle the snooping, you’ll take look-out, but we still need a wheelman and that’s why I’m texting Tom. This is all very mission-oriented, okay. I’m a professional.”

“Right,” she affirmed, while sounding anything but convinced. “Why don’t we just tell Bruce?”

Without looking up or breaking stride, he said: “I’m going to give you til I finish typing this sentence to figure out what was wrong with what you just said. Remember that we are talking about hypothetical danger to our brother, and also Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response to any of his children being in even hypothetical danger. And also our brother’s idea of a proportionate response to Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response. Look, you’re still new so I’m gonna need you to just trust me on this one. Its gonna be a no on telling Bruce without further intel.”

Cass said nothing in response to that, which meant that she was conceding the point and recognized the wisdom of his words. Or maybe that she was just gonna go ahead and do what she wanted anyway and just wasn’t bothering to fight about it, but it was probably that first thing.

“Well you better not just make out with your boyfriend all night,” is what she said at last, and that got his attention reeeeeal quick like.

“Umm. Wow. Okay. So, first off, you’re not the boss of me and who I make out with and when, so jot that down. And second, now I’m definitely going to make out with my boyfriend extra hard, with the exception of when we are actually on our recon mission because as previously established, I am a professional. And also, again, you’re not the boss of me.”

Jason ignored her Eye Roll With Extra Emphasis, and instead just held up his phone to Text With Extra Emphasis, as he read along with what he was typing.

“By the way babe, we have to make out extra hard tonight,” he said, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth while he dragged out his dictation with the kind of focus that usually led to Bruce asking why he couldn’t apply as much intensity to training as he did to pettiness. “Cass has suddenly decided she can dictate terms to me and I need to shut that shit down ASAP, so thank you in advance for your assistance in this matter. Smoochies and other gay stuff to the best boyfriend ever.”

Jason frowned as a response pinged back seconds later.

TheCatsMeow: ....the things I put up with for the sake of your weird family dynamics.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah, yeah. You’re a saint among were-panthers. Must you mock? Why can’t you just tell me I’m pretty instead?

TheCatsMeow: Sorry. Let me try again. OMG you’re so pretty Jase how did I get so lucky xoxo.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: No. Its too late. It feels forced and unbelievable now. You’ve ruined it forever.

TheCatsMeow: Got it. From now on I will only tell you that you’re repulsive and hideous.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: I’m breaking up with you.

TheCatsMeow: But after I help you with your mission tonight.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Obvsly. I’m a professional. Why do people keep forgetting this?

TheCatsMeow: And also the making out to spite your sister.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah we should do that first too. I mean we already penciled it in.

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dracosaurusrex · 4 years ago

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Bookworms (Draco x Reader)

Summary: Where Y/N and Draco discover that there’s much more to each other than what meets the eye.

Word Count: 11k

Genre: Fluff (slight angst in the beginning); enemies-to-friends-to-lovers ; No Voldy AU

TW: Self-harm but it’s not too much.

A/N: Hi friends! I want to say that I don’t really know where I was going with this, but that would be a lie. So a couple of weeks ago, a friend of mine (we’ll name her @minty-malfoy) posted a tag thread and one of her responses involved her wanting to own a bookshop. It got me thinking of a bookshop romance and ugh YES. With dark academia, how could I not? Fast forward to last week, I ask her for a favor without realizing it was her birthday, and I felt so embarrassed LOL. So, yes, this is your gift my friend. I hope you enjoy it. Keep shining like the light you are!

Besides that, I genuinely hope that if you come across this, you enjoy this big chunggus of a oneshot. I apologize if it’s slow at some parts. I also didn’t proofread the end. I should probably shut up now before I start questioning my writing omll

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Written in pages bound by leather covers are worlds that bring you out of your own. An adventure. An escape. Within that escape sprouts myriads of emotions and thoughts, but what you value the most amongst them all are its gifts of perspective and solace.

Y/N Y/L/N lived the majority of her life with her mother. Her father, who was an auror, passed when she was young, leaving them to surmount the challenges of the world alone. Together, they owned a decent bookshop in Hogsmeade. Its shelves lined the walls, occupying the entire expanse from the floor up to the ceiling. Within them were books of varying genres, filling your senses with the soothing aromas of old parchment, sounds of turning pages, and the feeling of warmth and coziness. To others, this little shop was known as Avenoir Books. However, you knew it as home, your safe space, your comfort zone.

Your mother was the one responsible for introducing you to your love for reading. Growing up, you’d recall the sound of her voice as she read to you--the way that it cradled you with reassurance when times got rough. She always managed to disguise her worries, yet in moments when she thought she was alone, you had witnessed her at her lowest points. It was only within your knowledge that you knew life was difficult, for your mother would shield you from the problems that reality had actually presented to you. She carried the weight of both your worlds on her shoulders, giving you protection by surrounding you with new ones to step into as you sat yourself in the confines of your cozy shop. It was because of her that reading became your refuge, and it remained so when you went away for school at Hogwarts.

Your mother’s resilience fueled your desire to become strong, to become great, to create a new life where you wouldn’t have to see her cry in secret. She was the reason you had been sorted into the Slytherin house in your first year, and she was also the reason why you’d been so successful within your 4 years of schooling by far.

You were a quiet Slytherin, mostly keeping to yourself while observing those around you. The most interesting and exasperating individual of the entire student body was a proud and arrogant boy, Draco Malfoy. He had never picked on you, but there were countless times you had witnessed his relentlessness with others, especially with the Golden Trio. Each and every instance increased your despise for him, furthermore deepening your ardent desire to keep your distance. However, it seemed that the universe had other plans for you today.

Weekdays kept you immersed in bulky textbooks--notes constantly jotted down through endless heaps of parchment. On weekends, however, you swapped your robes for a work apron, helping your mother around the shop. She’d situate herself by the counter and typically manned the ground level, while you’d be propped on a sliding ladder, managing books that sat on shelves higher up. You had a system in Avenoir Books. Customers would typically roam about the main floor, which was occupied by books from famous publishers and authors. However, for books that were more obscure or specialized, customers would head to the counter and gain consultation from your mother. In return, she’d direct them to you, prompting you to slide amongst the shelves in search for the requested titles, genres, or authors.

The store typically had a steady flow of people passing through. You have come across many different personalities and backgrounds throughout your life. Today was quite different, however. The bustling noises slowly died down upon the entrance of a pair of notorious figures, the air suddenly becoming tense. There stood Lucius Malfoy. His chin was pointed up, platinum locks flowing over his shoulders, walking stick in hand, his eyes scanning the shop with a pompous expression on his face. Standing to his side was Draco. He maintained the same look as his father, which soon featured a scowl as it managed to grace his face.

You heard the older man mutter, “Let’s get this over with, Draco.”

The two made their way through the vicinity as gazes were trained on them. Even you stopped what you were doing to observe their actions. Lucius approached your mother, who gave much effort to keep a welcoming smile plastered on her lips.

“Mr. Malfoy, what brings you the pleasure of stopping by?” Her tone was sweet and quite inviting, although it didn’t do much to shift the man’s attitude.

“You have quite the selection here at Avenoir--I’m impressed.” His tone on the other hand was laced with a tinge of venom and arrogance. Lucius' eyes kept trained on the expanses of shelves until they landed on you.

“I assume that’s your daughter, Y/N? Draco’s told me much about her.” You couldn’t decipher whether he meant well, moreover what Draco could’ve possibly said about you to his father. You weren’t aware that the boy even knew of your existence since all you did was keep away from him at all costs.

Your mother responds, “Yes, she’s a fifth year at Hogwarts. I assume your son’s the same?”

“You’re not wrong. Although, that’s not what I’m here for…” As Lucius continues his consultation with your mother, Draco takes the liberty to browse through the various genres of books featured on the ground floor. You don’t move from your position, rather you keep your gaze on him, observing his reactions. He picks up a familiar script. It’s a muggle book entitled, The Memory Police by Yoko Ogawa. You witness him flip through the first couple of pages before focusing in on the first chapter. Slowly, you see the scowl begin to leave his face--the tension between his eyebrows dissipates, his lips release the frown that had situated itself there, and his eyes take on a more solemn and concentrated expression. It contrasted greatly to the image he maintained at school. You realized then that when he wasn’t so obnoxious and loud, Draco was actually quite handsome.

“Draco, drop that filthy muggle book!” You weren’t aware of Lucius approaching until the snake embellishment that topped his walking stick violently landed on the boy’s shoulder. You saw him wince in pain as he dropped the book, rubbing the area to soothe the harsh sensation. Before you could react, your mother calls out to you.

“Y/N, Alchemy, Argo Pyrites.” You broke out from your daze and simply nodded in understanding. The duo now had their eyes on you as you charmed the ladder to take you to the location of the book. You actively scanned the spines for the targeted title, releasing a small “aha” when you find it. Once it’s in your hands, you blow off traces of dust and ensure that the book is in mint condition. It doesn’t take you long to make your way down. As you do so, you approach Lucius and lend the book over. He takes his time to check for any disparities before meeting your gaze once again.

“Y/N is it? Pleasure to meet you.” His tone was anything but kind, but you go along with it, doing your best to maintain courtesy.

“Pleasure’s all mine Mr. Malfoy. It’s very kind of you to stop by.”

“Certainly. Draco, say goodbye to your friend, let’s get going.” Draco looks at you from top to bottom before releasing a smirk. With a quick raise of his eyebrows, he turns around and follows his father out of the shop. You watch their figures disappear into the crowd before making your way to your mother.

“Draco seems like a nice boy, doesn’t he?” You scoff and cross your arms in disagreement.

“Oh please. ‘Nice’ is the last thing he’ll ever be.” She gives you a knowing gaze.

“Did you see how his father hit his shoulder? Even I was shocked. That poor boy never saw it coming.” You recall the pained expression that Draco had on his face. You supposed his parents imposed their pureblood supremacist ideals on the boy’s choice of interests as well.

“It’s not like he doesn’t deserve the pity, mother. You should see him at school. Obnoxious! Rude! Arrogant! He bullies others mercilessly!” You expected her face to contort in disgust and disappointment, but she only gave that familiar motherly smile.

“We can’t always assume the extent of a person’s character based on what they show, darling. Similar to how we should not judge a book by its cover.” She emphasized the last point knowing that you would understand. You could never fight your mother. Despite the difficulty of getting to where you were in life, she always embodied grace and wisdom through it all.

She spoke again, “Did you happen to see the book he was reading?”

“It was The Memory Police.” You couldn’t understand why she asked. She approached the book that Draco had dropped and picked it up. When she returned, she looked at you expectantly.

“You’re going to see him again this Monday, are you not?” You nodded, “I want you to give this to him.” Your eyes widened.

“Mother, I couldn’t possibly-”

“No excuses, Y/N! A kind gesture never hurt anyone.” Her tone softens, and you knew you couldn’t say no.

“The look he had on his face reminded me of you when you were younger. Do you remember?” You only sighed, remembering the relief you felt when you cozied up to a book. She continued, “He seemed more peaceful having a little bit of time to escape don’t you think?” Your shoulders, which were once tense, dropped.

You groaned, “Fine! I’ll do it.” Mother, 1, Y/N, 0.

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Throughout the remainder of the weekend, you thought of ways you could slip the book to the platinum-haired boy without having to actually confront him. You couldn’t understand why your mother wanted to reach out to him so bad. Never in your entire life have you seen her extend that much sympathy to a customer before. Ever! That boy is a git. A rich one at that! Everything was practically given to him on a silver plate. Why would he care so much about a measly book?

These questions roamed through your mind as you packed your school bag the following Monday morning. The book was settled on top of your desk, staring and waiting for you to pick it up. With dread, you reluctantly take it and place it into your bag. With one last look in the mirror, you grab your things and make your way to the Great Hall for breakfast. As you enter the massive room, you take a seat by yourself in the Slytherin table. You took a glance to find a familiar blonde mop of hair. All of his friends were there in their usual spot with him being the only one absent, which was weird because he never skipped breakfast. Wanting to get your mom’s task over with, you approach the group. They were chattering amongst themselves, not noticing your presence.

You cleared your throat, grabbing their attention, “Um, hey. Do you happen to know where Malfoy is?” They only looked at you in awe.

“The famous Y/N actually speaks? Didn’t think I’d ever hear a word come out of you.” The girl, Pansy, pointed out. You rolled your eyes.

Another girl, Daphne, kicked the prior’s ankle, eliciting a loud yelp from her. She spoke out, “I’m sorry Y/N. He said he’s not feeling too well, so he’s cooped up in the dorm.” You appreciated the softness of her voice in contrast to Pansy’s strong tone.

“Why do you ask? You never talk to him.” It was Blaise’s turn to chime in.

“I have some business with him.” You stood there, feeling the awkwardness creeping up. Your fingers were twirling the ends of your hair and you casted your gaze elsewhere. They just stared at you, still comprehending the sound of your voice.

“Well?” You asked.

“Ah, yes. He’s in dorm 7.” You nodded your head in appreciation and turned around to leave. You had about an hour before class, giving you ample time to make the delivery and go about with your day. At least that was what you thought.

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Once you enter the Slytherin common room, you make a turn towards the boys�� dormitories. As you take the stairs leading to it, you’re met with a corridor that takes a close resemblance to the girls’. Doors were lined on either side with numbers used to differentiate them--Draco’s room was located all the way down the hall. Oddly enough, the closer you approached it, the more nervous you felt. You never imagined yourself stepping into this part of the dungeons, moreover doing so to drop something off for a boy you despised. You yelled at your mom internally for putting you through this.

The distance between you and the door kept shrinking, and as you drew closer, you began to feel strange. Something was off. The uncertainty looming in the air grew thicker until you finally found yourself standing in front of the room. Before knocking, you press your ear against the entrance. There was complete silence. You also notice that the door was not closed all the way. The animosity you felt towards the boy was gradually replaced with worry and concern.

“Malfoy? Are you in there?” You ask hesitantly. There was no response.

“Draco?” You press your ear further into the door in hopes to pick up any sign of his presence. When you received none, you pushed forward, entering the room with caution. You were met with the sight of a half-made bed, Draco’s robes and uniform laid out on top. His desk still had books turned to different pages, accompanied with an open ink bottle and quill left upon pieces of parchment. All these things, yet still no signs of the Malfoy heir. You stood in your place for a moment, trying to concentrate on his whereabouts. However, your thoughts were interrupted by the subtle sounds of sniffles. Your eyes widened as your focus redirected to locating its source. It was then that you noticed another door leading to what you believed was the bathroom. The noises became more prominent as you walked towards it. You felt nervous and uncertain about what you were going to find. As you wrap your hand around the knob to open it, your eyes widened at the sight of the boy grabbing his wrist, which was dripping with blood. On his side was a razor blade.

You gasped as his eyes met yours, your heart breaking in the process. In front of you wasn’t the same bully everyone knew. No. In front of you laid a half-naked Draco whose eyes were filled with what seemed to be hopelessness, defeat, and fright. Tear stains stroke his cheeks, his eyebrows furrowed with pain. His hair stuck to his forehead as sweat accompanied his tears. The hand gripping his wrist was stained with blood, its pressure only forcing the flow to increase.

“Draco!” You didn’t know what overcame you in that instance. You frantically threw your bag off your shoulders and proceeded to kneel next to him, taking in his wounded arm. The boy retaliated.

“What do you think you’re doing!?” His voice was defensive and strained, but it didn’t faze you.

“I’m trying to save your sorry arse! Look at how much blood you’re losing. Merlin!” You returned a gaze that matched the intensity of his. The concern in your own tone heightened as you dug into the pockets of your robes in search of your wand.

“I don’t want to be saved! Don’t you get it? Leave me alone!” He wriggled in your grasp, only inducing you to tighten the grip you had on him. He gasped at the stinging sensation, tears streaming down his face. Tears began to fill the brim of your eyes.

“Stop spewing nonsense, Malfoy! I can’t leave you and I won’t!” The pained expression on your face caught his gaze. Tears had already spilled over. “Please, Draco. Let me heal you.” The boy stopped his protests upon hearing the desperation that was laced in your voice. You used the back of your hand that was gripping your wand to wipe the tears off of your face. After calming yourself down, you hover your hand over his gashes to perform the healing spell, a serious expression now spreading across your face.

“Vulnera sanentur.” His blood begins to retract back to its origin, the rate of its flow slowing down.

“Vulnera sanentur.” Your wand continues to trace Draco’s wounds. The traces of residue begin to disappear. Draco looks at your concentrated face and then turns his gaze back onto his wrists.

You perform the incantation for a final time, “Vulnera sanentur.” The cuts disappear completely and you let out a sigh of relief. You cast a look at Draco’s stunned face before scanning his shirtless torso. It was also filled with scars that were most likely left to heal on their own. The frown on your face grows as a rush of thoughts suddenly occupy your mind. How long has he been doing this to have this many cuts and scars? Draco, behind his arrogant mask, was alone. You didn’t need him to vocalize that fact for you. It was written across his face. The expression glossed over his eyes longed for the company that he never truly had.

In that instant, you knew your mother was right. You really can’t assume the extent of a person’s character based on what they showed.

“Would it be okay if I took care of you for a bit? I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone like this.” Your voice was soft as you released small hiccups signalling the end of your crying. Draco, who has no energy to object, simply nods. Your thoughts drift to your mother and how she was strong enough to carry both your burdens. As you recalled the love she gave you, the sour feelings that you had towards the boy faded. At that moment your only task of importance was to clean him up.

It was silent the entire time. You picked Draco up and propped him up onto a stool. He did nothing but keep his gaze on you as you walked to and fro in the bathroom. You took a face towel that was hanging on the side of the sink and wet it with cold water. You then wring the towel of excess water and wiped his face. The streaks that the tears made disappeared. You proceeded to his forehead, getting rid of the sweat and pushing his bangs upwards. You then began to wipe his neck, making sure that there was a comfortable distance between you two.

“Chin up.” You demanded. He obeyed, and you wiped over the expanse between both jaws, his throat, and down to his collar bones. You yelled at yourself mentally to focus on the action instead of the curves and crevices outlined by his skin. Luckily, you were able to keep a straight face, making no sign of being flustered whatsoever. You step back to wet the towel again before proceeding to wiping his shoulders. At this point, you began feeling warmth spreading across your face. Draco let out a small laugh.

“Like what you see?” He asks with a broken voice. You snickered at the way he managed to be funny at a time like this.

“I’m only being nice, Malfoy. Don’t let your head get big. Not that it hasn’t already.” You say, giving a coy smile. You gulp discretely as you make your way down his chest. His eyes never leave you. You purposefully wipe that area much faster to prevent you from blushing even more. Once you get to his wrists, you rub circles on the area where the cuts used to be before running the towel over it and to his hands.

“How do you feel?” You ask.

“Better.”

“Good. Cup your hands for me please.” He follows your instruction once again. “Aguamenti.” A stream of water flows from the tip of your wand and into his palms.

“Drink up.” He remains obedient. Once he finishes, you pour in water once again, having him repeat the act. You feel at ease as he gulps the water down. His body still looks limp, and his face still gaunt, but it was a huge improvement considering the state he was in when you walked in.

Your gaze settles on the floor and the stray blade, both covered in dried blood. “Tergeo.” You mutter, cleaning up the mess.

You point your wand to the blade, “Evanesco.” It disappears in an instant. You turn back to Draco. You wrap your arm around his torso and bring him close to you to help him maintain his balance as you step out of the bathroom.

“Where do you keep your sleepwear?” You ask. He points to the cabinet, and you go forth to take out a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. You hand him the articles of clothing and turn around to leave him to change.

He laughs, “You’re silly you know? You’ve already seen me half-naked, yet you turn around.” You only shrug and chuckle before turning around to meet his gaze. He leans on the side of the bed, arms crossed.

“I have yet to ask, Y/N. What brought you here in the first place?” You were so absorbed in healing and cleaning Draco that your initial purpose for coming over flew past your mind.

“Oh yes,” You pick up your bag that laid on the floor, and rummaged through it before pulling out his copy of The Memory Police.

“Mother saw how peaceful you looked when reading this book at the shop. She heavily insisted that I bring it to you, saying that you can use an escape too.” You lean on the space beside him as you hand him the book. His eyes widened as he cautiously took the book out of your hands, as if his father would appear right this instant. He scanned the cover, and flipped through the pages, his eyes glossed with disbelief. The sight of him like this made you imagine how much of his life had been kept in a cage. Wealth did not serve as a basis for happiness. You could only guess how much expectations were held for the Malfoy heir.

“My father would object to me having this.” You nodded in understanding, rubbing his shoulder to comfort him. He looks up at you.

“I won’t push you to tell me the reasons why you decided to harm yourself, but I’m certain that you need a break from whatever bothered you in the first place. Please, keep it. My mother will nag me without end if I don't deliver it.” He smiles.

“Thank you. I mean it.” Your jaw dropped. He rolled his eyes.

“Draco Malfoy actually knows how to say ‘thank you’.” You say, mocking a look of disbelief. He scoffed and his scowl reappeared in an instant.

You raised your arms in defense, “What? You can’t blame me.” You both share a laugh before silence overtakes you once again. Your head faced downward, and you kept your sights on your shoes.

“Thank you for letting me take care of you. It frightened me to see you like that.” You fumbled with your fingers.

“It’s a miracle that you came, Y/N. I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself if you hadn’t yourself.” You smiled. You were appalled with the fact that there was a soft side to the boy. You looked at him, remembering the comfort that you found in your mother’s love through books. In that moment, an idea sprung forth in your mind.

“Ever since I was young, it was only me and my mother. Father passed when I was 2, and we were left alone to face the world.” You looked at him to find that his attention was on you. You continued, “There were plenty of times I felt hopeless and scared, but it was the comfort of her voice that washed that feeling away. She’d stay by my side at night to read me books, and she always managed to take me to worlds that detached me from the reality that we lived in. She told me that Avenoir, besides it being a bookstore, was established to become my safe space, my comfort zone, my refuge, if you will. She’s why I love reading.” You took Draco’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

“And I want to extend that to you. Please feel free to come by whenever okay? We’ve never been that close, and you have been pretty gittish, but no one deserves to feel alone.” You gave the boy a reassuring smile.

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Draco gazed at his hand, which was still squeezed in yours. He then shifted his view back to the smile on your face. Y/N Y/L/N, the most reserved and studious Slytherin in their year, surely had a lot to say, but it was surprisingly the most relief he has felt in a long while, if ever. She gave his shoulder a little squeeze before picking up her belongings from the floor. Before she left his dorm she faced him once more.

“Will you be okay on your own?” She asks. Draco nods and gives his signature eyebrow raise. She chuckles.

“If you need anything, I’ll be in my dorm. I don’t plan on going to class today.” As he watches her leave, he notices the warmth that spreads over his chest. He brushes it off before flopping on his bed and immersing himself into the world of the Memory Police. For once in his life, he manages to escape the burdens of his family name. He escapes the burdensome fear of being considered a let-down to his parents. He escapes the rabbit hole of expectations, worries, pressures--the need to be “perfect” Draco. He finds an escape from the reputation that he upholds through you. Furthermore, he finds himself desiring more of your company. Because of this, he moves from his bed, with his book in hand, and strides into the girls’ dormitories. He never got her room number, but when he sees an open door, he automatically assumes that it’s her inside. Without thinking, he barges at the sight of her stunned face.

“Draco? What’s the matter?” The boy takes a good look at Y/N’s space. Her bed is made neatly and is stationed against the farmost wall in front of a large window. Her table is positioned at the end of her bed. There were a number of small bookcases that cover a majority of the perimeter of the room. It’s cozy.

He takes a moment to compose himself. “Is it alright if I can stay with you? Just a little longer?” The girl gives him a confused look, but agrees nevertheless.

“Sure, close the door.” He does as she says, and looks around. Her dorm truly reflected her personality. Her words break him out of his daze.

“You can sit on the bed if you’d like.” As he gets himself situated, he observes her. Y/N was known for her hardworking nature, and mostly stayed away from socialization because of it. In that regard, she never really had much to say unless she was answering a question during lectures. She doesn’t say much once he’s situated. Instead, she quietly turns back to her desk to focus on her note taking, actively highlighting important bits of information from her books. Draco was amazed to say the least.

“Y/N, why is it that you study so much?” He asks. Her gaze remains rooted to her work as she finished writing up the last sentence before gazing up at him. She grins.

“I’m working hard, so I can earn enough to give my mother a better life.” She says simply.

“Is the life you have right now not enough?” He doesn’t mean to come off as ignorant or insensitive, but he asks out of pure curiosity. Y/N only rubs her chin to think of a proper response.

“Don’t get me wrong, we’re both happy. I just suppose it would be nice to know that she wouldn’t have to worry about her resources. Life was always uncertain before opening Avenoir. I remember how she would hide away to cry so I wouldn’t see her tears. I felt helpless and I couldn’t do anything about it. I hate being weak because of that.” Draco simply gawked at her. The availability of resources has never been an issue for him; it felt like a slap on the face seeing how hard Y/N worked for that level of accessibility.

“I feel like a lot of people have been gawking at me today. Stop it.” You chuckled as you scratched the back of your neck, recalling the reactions of his friend group as you held a conversation with them.

“You’re surely something else, Y/L/N. That’s all.” Y/N only smiled as she removed herself from her desk. She pulled a random book from one of her shelves and sat herself next to Draco. Together they get lost within their own worlds.

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There was a mutual feeling of friendship that emerged between you and Draco. However, the both of you never bothered to make it obvious in the presence of others. Actions so far were limited to discrete nods towards each other in the hallways. Nevertheless, you were content. You didn’t see him constantly, but you heard people talk about him and how he hasn’t been teasing or picking fights with students as much as he did in the week prior. It was a change you were surprised with, but one that you were pleased to hear about regardless. Besides that, you still kept yourself to your own tasks throughout the remainder of the week. It was a set cycle, which involved going to lecture and studying within the confines of your room. Although, you had to admit that you enjoyed the blonde’s presence, and secretly wished that you’d spend more time together.

The weekend arrived, which meant you’d resume your work at the bookshop. The day flew by fast. Customers came bustling in by the hour that you never had much time to talk to your mother while you were working. As you waited for demands to trickle in, you occupied yourself with another book, The Happy Prince by Oscar Wilde. It was a pleasant book about selflessness, however you found your mind drifting off often. When you weren’t reading, you kept your eyes peeled for the entrance, hoping that a certain boy would come in. However, no sign of the Malfoy heir showed as hours passed. Your hopes soon depleted. Giving up on the chances of him coming, you resumed your reading.

It must’ve been about 20 minutes after 3 o’clock when your mother calls you from the counter. You heeded her request and made your way down the ladder. Behind her are large boxes filled with new books that were to be stored on the higher shelves. As you drag them to the base of the ladder, your back bumps into something hard.

“I’m so sorry! Are you al-” As you turn to identify the person you collided with, your eyes widened at the sight of Draco. Your heart skips a beat as you scan his appearance. He sported a black turtleneck that fitted securely around his torso, which was paired with dark plaid pants, and black leather chelsea boots. Rings adorned his fingers, and his platinum locks are slightly disheveled from the wind. He looked delicious rather expensive.

Draco was just as shocked when he realizes that it’s you he bumps into. You weren’t wearing anything fancy as he was--just a simple white shirt, straight jeans that ended just above your ankles, faded white sneakers, which was all adorned by the work apron that wrapped around your waist. Your hair was tied into a loose bun that settled at the nape of your neck with some stray strands framed around your face. It contrasted to your typical appearance at school. He preferred you in casual wear much more than in uniform, but he wasn’t going to admit that.

You straighten your posture, “Hey! What brings you here?” The boy in front of you rubs the back of his neck bashfully.

“I just wanted to spend time here. You offered on Monday.” His timidness made you smile.

“You’re definitely welcome to stay-” You were interrupted by your mother’s gleeful shout.

“Draco! It’s so nice to see you! Please do make yourself comfortable. I assume Y/N delivered the book safely?” You rolled your eyes and let out a groan.

“Yes, mother. I did.” She only laughs in response. “I extended an offer to have him hang around if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all! Would you like some tea, dear?” The warm welcome fills the boy’s heart.

He gives a polite nod, “That would be lovely, thank you.” He looks to you with amusement plastering his facial features.

“Would you like some help?” The smile that you give to him in response makes his heart flutter.

“I’ll be okay. Like what mother said, please make yourself comfortable.” You reassured him, before urging him to follow you to the back of the shop. Past the counter is a corridor that leads to a small outdoor patio. Fairy lights are strung on the edges of the fence that borders the space, and a table for two is set near the entrance that goes back into the store. As the sun begins to set, the small set up becomes even more charming.

“It’s not much, but this is us.” Your arms spread as you step towards the center of the patio. Draco looks around and then back at you.

“It’s lovely.” He states with a happy grin stretched across his lips. The space doesn’t hold the same grandeur as his manor, but within the small and cozy confines, he feels safe and content.

“I’m glad to hear that. Take a seat! I still have work to do, but I’ll be clocking out soon. Stay as long as you’d like!” The joy in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed. It’s quite difficult to suppress the emotions after the anticipation that has built up throughout the day. With your spirits lifted, you return to work. The load of the boxes don’t seem as heavy as they used to.

Draco sits around in silence for a bit with his hands clasped together. The thought of being within your personal space makes his knees bounce up and down as he waits for his tea. Wanting to release his nerves, he explores the compound a bit more. He steps into the corridor, taking notice of the way it’s decorated. Pictures of you and your mother grace the walls. The sight urges him to look out in the front of the shop. He catches you piling books in your arms before making your way up the ladder. In doing so, he takes note of your focused face, the furrowing of your eyebrows, and the slight parting of your lips. Your eyes blazed in determination, sparking that particular warmth in his chest again. Draco tore his gaze from you and redirected it to the photos mounted on the wall. One that caught his interest was of you on your mothers back. Your small arms were wrapped tightly around her shoulders as your small face peered over her with a small toothy grin. He notices the light in your eyes. It had remained the same ever since. He stares at the photos for a couple of minutes.

“You found our pictures!” Your mother comes up from behind him, startling him slightly. She responds to his reaction with a hearty chuckle as she worms her way through the corridor, Draco following closely behind her. They sit across from each other, and the boy watches her as she sets a cup before him. She takes the tea pot and pours the liquid carefully.

“How do you like your tea, dear?” She asks.

“Slight cream, no sugar, Mrs. Y/L/N” Your mother looks at the boy. His shoulders are stiff and he’s tense all over. His hands look clammy. Basically, Draco looks nervous.

“I don’t bite. Don’t worry, love. Relax.” She gives the boy’s hand a reassuring squeeze. It was much similar to the feel of yours. He relaxes a little bit, adding cream to his drink.

“Y/N speaks very highly of you.” He states a matter-of-factly.

“Is that so?” A smile appears, “How’s my daughter at school?”

“She’s a really hard worker. Everyone knows her for her intelligence, but she is rather quiet. Much different than the way she acts here. She is so vibrant.”

Draco takes notice of the surprised look in your mother’s eyes, “Oh my dear, if I’m being truthful to you, it’s been so long since I’ve last seen her vibrant side shine through. She’s more demure in character. It’s not common for her to act that way.” Draco didn’t completely understand why, but hearing those words made his heart skip beats. He didn’t respond for a bit, allowing her words to sink in. Out of nowhere, Y/N calls out to her mother signalling the completion of her task. Her head pops from the door frame, and she glances at the tea briefly before shifting her view to the boy.

“Y/N! Why don’t you give Draco some company and have some tea? You can go to your room after!” You cough, but merely nodded in response. You seat yourself in the chair that was once occupied.

“How’s work?” Draco asks. He takes the kettle and pours you a cup.

“Busy as always, but it’s a pleasure to be here.” You thank him for the tea and proceed to adding your preferred amounts of cream and sugar.

“You look handsome today, by the way.” You took a sip of your tea so you wouldn't see his reaction. The boy only beamed.

“You look pretty too, if I’m being honest.” You chuckle as you set down your cup.

“You’re telling me that when I’m dressed in a t-shirt and some ragged jeans?” You didn’t really know what kind of answer to expect. For the most part, you felt average in your get up. He, on the other hand, looked like a model.

“Yes I am. You are pretty.” You only smile at your feet and thank him. The boy was charming without the pompous get up. Ever since that Monday morning, you began to develop appreciation for this genuine side that he showed you.

As time passed, your mother closed up the shop. Both you and Draco offered to help her, but she denied almost immediately. Instead, she insisted that you take the boy up, causing you to palm your face in embarrassment. However, you eventually agree and lead the way. Within the corridor were stairs that led to a second level. You and Draco climb them and turn to the first door on your right. Your room was slightly bigger than the one at school. It was furnished in a fashion that was similar to your dorm, but there were a lot more books--this time stacks of them could be seen littering the floor.

“Did you bring your book?” He nodded and fished it out from his back pocket.

He briefly scans the room, “Did you read all of these?” You nod with an embarrassed smile.

“I bet you’d love the library in the manor.” Your eyes widened at the sound of it. A tinge of excitement sprouted from your gut as you begin to imagine its vastness.

“I don’t think you’re wrong. I bet it’s quite the sight!” Delight could be heard from your voice. Draco only tries to suppress a smile.

“Maybe one day.” He mutters to himself, hoping that you didn’t hear. However, when he looks up, he’s met with your wide smile. He blushes immediately and curses under his breath.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll pretend I didn’t.” You wink at him, and pull out your book. You flopped on your bed, patting the space next to you. When he situates himself by your side, you begin to pick up where you left off, already pushing the outside world aside. Draco sits with his legs crossed, and copies your actions. Silence fills the both of you as an hour passes. However, he’d take opportunities to sneak small glances at you once in a while. Your focus on the pages never shifted. If anything, the furrowing of your brows deepen as you turn with every page. With his curiosity getting the best of him, he leans closer to you to see what was so interesting. His actions don’t go by unnoticed, though. As soon as you felt his knee come into contact with yours, you realize how close he has gotten since you started reading.

“May I help you, Malfoy?” You ask, slightly amused.

“What’s your book about?” He asks. You tense your brows as you come up with an answer, not wanting to spoil anything.

“It’s about the friendship between a statue of a very selfless prince and a swallow. What about yours?”

“I’d never thought I would like fiction, but I do like this one. It’s about a girl who protects a person who can remember.”

“Remembers?”You ask with genuine curiosity. Draco nods, his eyes expressing the interest he has for the novel.

“Things on the island vanish, and the majority of the people have no recollection of it after it disappears. The people who show any signs of remembering get taken away.” Your interest for the plot increases

“That sounds very interesting. Do you think we can trade when we finish?”

“I think it sounds like a plan.” You stare into each other’s eyes for a moment before a snapping noise is heard. Suddenly your hair loosens, and you realize that the rubber band holding your hair together gave out. Draco looked at you with an eyebrow raised. As you reach to pull the remnants of the tie away, your hair frees itself. Some strands framed your face, while the rest flowed over your shoulders and covered the expanse of your back. You run your fingers through the front and they fall into curtain-like waves. Draco on the other hand is taken aback at your sudden change of appearance. Prior to getting to know who you were, nothing much was thought of you with the exception of your brains. Besides that, you were rather plain looking, always having your hair up in a braid or a ponytail.

It was a seemingly natural reaction to let your hair simply flow. You really didn’t think much of it. But, when you met Draco’s surprised look, it was your turn to raise a brow at him. He really didn’t know what overtook him, or why these particular words fell out without thinking, but both hearts were racing and ears turned warm after he spoke out.

“Merlin, Y/N. You’re bloody gorgeous.” It caught him off guard. Your expression was the only thing that made him come to terms with the reality of it.

“I- You- You weren’t supposed to-”

“Thank you.” Draco’s jitters stopped in an instant when he saw the way you smiled up at him. Noticing the silence that settles in, you quickly think of something to break it.

“Should I wear it down at school? I’ve been thinking about it. It’s time for a ch-” You were startled by how quick his response was.

“No! Absolutely not!” He speaks frantically.

“-ange. Okay, then. Sheesh.” You both just laugh at his sudden outburst. Draco’s, however, was a nervous one.

After a couple more minutes of reading, a savory aroma fills your senses, and your mother calls out to you both for dinner. The food was pleasant, but it was the actual state of togetherness that lit Draco’s heart. Although the warm feeling of you and your mother’s company was foreign to him, he was glad to have been able to experience it. The entirety of his stay lifts a huge weight off of his shoulders. Moreover, he begins to acknowledge the budding emotions that he feels for you. He felt each beat of his heart more profoundly within the small moments that you shared, with every glance that he took, and with every laugh that spilled from your lips.

You stare up at the clock, taking note of the time. It was already 7:30 PM. Curfew was at 9:00 for fifth years.

“Mother, I think it’s time that we get going. I’ll see you next week.” You notify her of your departure as you help clear out the table.

“Oh, it’s that time of the day already? Very well then. I’m so glad you stopped by today, Draco. You’re welcome here anytime. Let me see the both of you out.” After you give her a hug, you make your way to the main room of the store. Draco thought you were going to exit, and was brought to confusion when you suddenly stopped in your tracks.

Draco clears his throat, “So, do you know how exactly we’ll get back?” It was already late and the boats that transported students to and from Hogsmeade were closed for the day.

“Are you a fan of portkeys?” You ask. Draco’s eyes widened.

“Have you created an illegal one?” When you don't answer, he just laughs. You rummage through your bag, picking out a random book. When you open it, there’s a postcard with a picture of Hogsmeade on the front.

“It’s a touch-activated one. It goes straight into my dorm.” You look up at him to see a devious-looking smirk plastered on his lips.

“You really are something else.” He whispers. You roll your eyes and shake your head.

“Let’s touch it on the count of three, okay? 1...2...3.” At the touch of the object, Draco felt his body get sucked into a bind, lights flashing, and your surroundings blacking out until it wasn’t. He kept his eyes shut the whole time. The entire instance occurred for a second. When you arrived at your destination, you felt fine, having gotten used to the uncomfortable sensation resulting from the mode of transportation. The boy who isn’t as experienced, however, didn’t find himself so lucky, and opted to lay down on your bed for a moment, closing his eyes to regain his strength. As you gave him time to rest, you took the opportunity to change into something more comfortable, taking advantage of the fact that he wouldn’t be aware of you doing so.

When he opened his eyes, he was surrounded by the familiar confines of your dorm. They roamed around until stopping at your changing figure. You had slipped on a jumper, which was paired with loose fitting sweats, the waistband wrapping securely on your hips. The only source of light was that of the moon as it radiated through your window and onto your bedroom floor. It casted a surreal glow upon your features, and Draco couldn’t help but stare.

“Would you like some water? I know the experience could be unpleasant.” Your voice was soft and was followed by the sound of your melodic giggle.

“Y/N, you’re mental if you tell me you do that every week.” He says astoundedly. You nod with a grin and shrug your shoulders as you passed him a cup of water. He takes it gratefully and gulps it down as you sit on the edge of your bed.

“You should probably get back to your dorm soon and take some rest. Do you need any help?” He shakes his head, but is betrayed by his body as he stumbles out of your bed. With quick reflexes, you hold him steady, allowing him to regain his balance quickly.

“Are you sure?” You ask doubtedly. He reassures you by straightening his posture and flashing a smile. You return it as you walk him to the door. He stands in the hallway, facing you as you lean against your door frame. You rushedly look left and right to ensure no one was looking before shifting your attention back to him.

“It was nice having you today. Mother was really happy you came by.”

“How about you?” The boy catches your gaze once more. You only looked at him with a raised brow, queuing the need for clarification.

“How do you feel about my company?” What he asked caught you off guard, but you couldn’t deny the joy that you felt being around him. The comfort you felt from reading alone didn’t compare to the calm silence that situated you both when you did it together. It was the simple yet overwhelming feeling of contentment--the feeling of someone entering your heart silently, gently, and with a rush all at the same time. Pure bliss was what it was, but you couldn’t formulate the words when he asked you. The boy smirked at your lack of response. Instead, he bent over to meet your eye level and leaned in. You held your breath within your throat as he drew closer, ultimately shutting your eyes in anticipation for who knows what. Draco noticed the slight change in your body language and softened the look in his eyes. His orbs, which were once filled with amusement, were now filled with adoration. He looked at your expression, before reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You opened your eyes, meeting his gentle gaze. Shocked, Draco backed away, shoving his hands into his pockets.

He stammered, “Y-You had something on your ear.” A flush had spread over his cheeks.

“Oh, is that so? Were you able to remove it?” You ran your fingers through your hair, oblivious of his frantic behavior. In your mind, you only wish it could’ve been more.

“Y-yea!” A nervous laugh leaves his lips. After he recollects himself for a few more seconds he says, “We should do this again sometime.” To which you happily agree.

You both bid each other ‘goodnight’. As you close the door, you lean your back against the wall, and slide down to the floor. You took note of the way your heart began to race when you recalled the events of today. The sound of his laughs, his subtle attempts to get close to you, his expression of interest towards the things that you treasured. Your image of Draco had begun to transform right under your nose.

Little did you know that as the boy walked back to his dorm room that night, the same thoughts ran through his mind. Although he was tired, he would constantly think about the way you looked when you were working, or when you were reading, or how your hair came undone. Moreover, he felt safe within your hospitality--it wasn’t forceful or intrusive, it just flowed naturally. This small escape made a huge improvement from the broken state you found him in that Monday prior. That night, as he laid in bed, he read his book peacefully until sleep took over his consciousness, filling his rest with dreams of reading with you by his side.

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

It was a brisk Sunday morning when you found yourself at the Great Hall for breakfast. You were always one of the earlier students who came right when the doors opened. By the time you got yourself situated, only a few students trickled their way into the massive room.

Your hand took hold of your book as the other filled your mouth with food. Your concentration blazed as you immersed yourself into the world of the Oscar Wilde that you didn’t realize how filled the hall became once you put your book down. The reason for you doing so stemmed from the sound of a presence that sat before you. You never had company when you ate, so when you looked up you were surprised to see Draco settling in the seat in front of you. Murmurs from other students could be heard at the peculiar sight.

“This seat isn’t taken I presume?” He asks. The typical Malfoy smirk graces his lips as he lowers himself down.

“Not at all.” You respond simply. You look around with a weirded expression. People had their eyes on the two of you. One in particular caught your attention. It was Astoria Greengrass, also dubbed as the Slytherin princess. She had an annoyed look on her face, but you brushed it off, turning back to the boy in front of you.

“Aren’t your friends waiting for you?” You nodded towards the familiar group of people.

“I can’t read around them. They’re too loud.” Once the statement leaves his lips, he pulls out The Memory Police and finds himself in the same stature you were in previously. You smile inwardly before taking a few bites of your food. It’s silent and you can still feel the lingering stares around you. They begin to get annoying after a while.

“Leave them be. They can stare all they want, but I’m not moving anywhere.” He says as though he read your mind. He glances at you from the top of his book, but his tone remains unfazed.

“How’d you know?” You inquire.

“You have ‘uncomfy’ written all over your face, Y/N.” He keeps his gaze stuck to his book while stuffing a piece of scrambled egg into his mouth. You narrow your eyes at him before slowly opening your own again.

“What are you planning to do today?” He asks suddenly. You look up to see that his eyes never left the page. Your look at your own, except you’re not reading this time.

“Probably read at the lake, go to my dorm and read some more.”

“Do you do anything else besides read?”

“I study.” You could feel his eyes roll.

“Besides that.” You lower your hands seeing that you aren’t getting anywhere with the plot.

“What else is there to do on Sundays?” You laugh, “Well what do you plan on doing today?”

Your conversation gets interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. There stands Astoria Greengrass, arms crossed with an envious expression on her face. She looks at you then to Draco.

“Hey Dray. I just wanted to know if you wanted to hang out with me at Hogsmeade today?” She asks with a sickly flirtatious tone. She squeezes his shoulder while you just roll your eyes and look away to mentally gag.

“You must be blind to notice. I’m preoccupied if you can’t tell.” The sound of his tone is cold, much akin to the one he uses when he’s bullying someone. However, a smirk sneaks up to your lips as you keep your gaze lowered. The girl only scoffs before turning to you.

“Cute little book you got there Y/L/N. You always have your nose buried in one, don’t you? What’s that one about this time?” You take note of her condescending voice, which slightly pulls on your nerves.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Greengrass? Sorry love, I’m too preoccupied to explain.” You wiggle your book at her before getting up. You throw the boy your version of his eyebrow raise before turning to leave.

“I’ll see you around ‘Dray’.” You say, imitating Astoria’s tone. You looked at her from head to toe and scoffed as you walked out of the hall. You couldn’t be bothered to deal with the likes of her. For the most part, giving her any piece of your energy was not worth it. You find yourself walking down the corridor before hearing the sound of someone running to you. You stop in your tracks and turn around to see the familiar platinum-haired boy.

“You need some company at the lake?” He asks. Your face, which was once filled with annoyance, releases its tension, and transforms into a gentle smile.

“I don’t need it, but you’re free to come along if you’d like to.” You turn your back quickly before getting a response out of him. He follows you.

Throughout the walk, Draco notices that your hair is up in a braid again, smiling as he reminisces the sequence of events that occurred the night prior. Could you have kept it up because he said so? Such thoughts filled his mind with interest. The events that happened in the hall also made him wonder. He had never seen you agitated before.

“I never thought you’d respond like that.” He says to start up conversation.

“To Astoria?” He nods.

“Not worth my time or energy. I may be quiet, but I’m not a pushover...Dray.” You tease him with the nickname, although he doesn’t mind it when it comes from you.

“It sounds better when you say it.” He says, making you shake your head in response.

“I was about to choke myself. Merlin, did you hear the way she said it? It’s enough to make your ears bleed. Bloody hell.” The way you release your frustration gives the both of you something to laugh about. That familiar feeling of comfort overcoming you both once again.

“Do you think she’s going to approach me again?” You ask.

“Knowing her, she might.”

“Merlin, avada me now.” Draco only laughs louder at the sound of your displeasure. By the time you reach the lake, the sun is seen casting its rays upon the water. Clouds are still in the sky, but the overall scene is bright and beautiful, assuring that it was going to be a good day.

You sit on a patch of grass that meets the sand, while Draco assumes the seat beside you. Before you could even begin to read, the boy takes the opportunity to ask you another question.

“How far are you from finishing your book?”

“I’m almost done. Give me a few minutes and I should be finished.” His eyes widened slightly

“Fast reader aren’t you?”

“No, well, maybe. There are more stories in this book. The Happy Prince so happens to be one of them.” He nods, allowing that particular conversation to end. He lays down on the grass, ready to read in the process, but is caught staring at the expanse of your neck. Your braid reaches the middle of your back, swaying in the wind. When he takes sight of the band that holds it together, he reaches out, hoping that you won’t notice, and pulls it off. He swiftly drops it to make it seem like he hasn’t done anything, so by the time you turn around to identify the cause of the loosened sensation, he already has the book propped on top of his legs, gazing at the lines with much concentration.

“Did you see anything?” You ask with a raised brow. He simply nods, trying to hide the smirk on his face. It doesn’t go unnoticed by you though.

“Draco. Was it you?” When he doesn’t respond, you laugh.

“You’re such a git.” Your fingertips trace the sand to locate the rubber band, but the boy stops you before going any further. He wraps his hand around your wrist, while catching your gaze.

“It looks better down.” He says firmly.

“But you said-”

“I don’t want you letting it loose for others to see. In front of me is fine.” He holds your gaze for what seemed to eternity before slowly loosening his grip on your hand.

He then proceeds to ask, “Can I touch it? Your hair?” You smile and nod at him. He takes the opportunity to scoot closer behind you. After he situates himself at a comfortable distance, he reaches out to your loosened braid, and gently runs his fingers through it, breaking it up entirely. Your strands are soft in his touch, and the light from the sun only emphasizes how shiny it is. You pay no mind to the boy’s doing. Instead, you continue reading while he plays with your hair.

After 15, perhaps 20 minutes of reading, you finally finish your book. It is then that you notice that he’s still stroking your locks. Slightly amused, you look up from your book and decide to tease him for a bit.

“Are you having fun back there?” Your question is accompanied with a giggle.

“Most fun I’ve had in years.” Sarcasm laced through his voice. “Can you teach me how to braid?” Your head turns back, but you’re only faced with a serious expression.

“What’s the sudden interest?” As you ask your question, the breeze picks up, eliciting a shiver out of you. It takes a second for Draco to notice how thin your clothes were.

“Why don’t we go inside? It’s warmer and you can teach me how to braid your hair.”

“You’re so insistent, aren’t you?”

“Not insistent, just ambitious.” You rolled your eyes as he lifted you from the ground.

You both make your way to the dungeons, taking the familiar route that leads to his room. You don’t protest the destination as much, only being grateful that it was warmer than the harsh change in climate outside of these walls. You can’t help but recall how much has drastically changed since the week prior, but it warmed your heart knowing that there was more to Draco than what meets the eye.

As you enter the dorm, you take notice of all the luxurious details that embellish everything from his furniture to the style of his clothes. It was much more put together since the last time you found yourself there. The crisp scent of apples filled your nose, allowing yourself to ooze into the comfort of the environment. You show no hesitance to flop on his bed, seeing as he has done so to yours a number of times already. While doing so, he discards his robes and hangs it over a coat rack. The sight of you brings out a small smile from him as he claims the seat next to you.

“Now, where were we?” He asks. You proceed to sectioning your hair into two parts. You hand him one, which he takes gently all while focusing his concentration on the demonstration you show.

“Okay, so we start off with three sections…” He does as you say.

“Now I take this, and flip it over this section.” He repeats. Only the sounds of his breaths can be heard.

“Now you do it to the other side, and repeat the pattern.” As you demonstrate with your strands, a shocked expression fills his face as he tries to repeat your actions. He gets it eventually, although his braid is much messier and unkept in comparison to yours, which is tight and neat. A familiar scowl appears on his face, but you try to keep your laughter in. In all fairness, he really was trying.

“Here. Take all of it. Try braiding my hair.” You run your fingers, deleting both your work and his, and turn so that your back is facing him. You keep your sights set towards the window, as he begins to work his way through your hair. He starts off by combing his fingers through your locks, which felt annoyingly good. He then proceeds to repeat everything that he has learned within the last five minutes. Him doing so only proved how quick of a learner he was. Silence filled you both, and as time drifted on, you ended up dozing off into sleep. It is only when Draco finishes that he notices you. He tugs at his final product slightly to see the expression on your face, but in doing so, you fall onto his chest as soft snores find their way out of your lips.

“And she calls me a git. Look at her sleeping while I handle her hair.” His eyes soften at the gentleness of your own expression before he scans the way your arms have wrapped themselves across your waist. Ensuring that you were sound asleep, he carefully reaches for your hand, forcing it to open as he slightly interlaces his fingers with yours. He takes a moment to comprehend the situation, his face warming up when he realizes that your back is slouched against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder, and one of his hands clasped delicately into yours.

It’s when his eyes land on your resting face once more that he recalls all that you are, all that you have shown him. He then envisions the long-term, imagining all he has yet to discover about you. The care that you’ve shown him by far is more than what anyone has done throughout his life. He revisits the week before when you mentioned reading as a way to escape. Now that as he has you lying against him, he thinks of the possibility that his real escape is actually you. His mind finds pleasure in that thought, and it only makes his heart race when he thinks about what could possibly happen between you two tomorrow, or the day after that, a week, month, year. What answer would he receive by then? He isn’t even sure if you’d say ‘yes’ to an offer in a relationship, especially knowing how focused you are with your school work. Ridding the thoughts for another time, Draco slowly lays his back down against the mattress, bringing you carefully along with him. Your legs become entangled with his. His hand never leaves yours.

Ensuring that you were certainly asleep, he whispers softly to the air, “I think I like you, Y/N.” He wraps his other arm around you before falling into a peaceful slumber.

A/N: I don’t think this is the end, but that’s not the point! I hope you enjoyed it :) Any feedback is very much appreciated hehe.

#Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy imagines #draco x reader #draco x you #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #slytherin imagines

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funkyhanji · 4 years ago

Text

Daddy's Perfect Cock-Slut [English | BNHA]

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia (@Horikoshi Kohei) Character(s): Todoroki Enji | Endeavor, Todoroki Shouto Pairing(s): EnjiSho Rating: E Word count: 3528 CWs: Shota, Underage, Extremely Dubious Consent, Father/Son Incest, Grooming, Mind Manipulation, Childhood Trauma, Blow Jobs, Butt Plugs, Anal Sex, Daddy Kink, Begging, Rough Sex, Large Cock, Cock Worship, Cock Cages, Cock-Slut Shouto, Creampie, Implied/Referenced Father/Daughter Incest, Dissociation, Dirty Talk, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Summary: - That green-haired runt [...] knew nothing about Shouto. Or about Enji. Or about their relationship and how it functioned. -

Enji's annoyed. That green-haired runt reminded him too much of All Might, with his self-righteous attitude and acting like it's his duty to go sticking his nose into someone else's business, unwanted and spewing corny bullshit. Did that kid even know who he was talking to in that way?

His Shouto doesn't need help from a kid who can't even properly control his quirk. He knew nothing about Shouto. Or about Enji. Or about their relationship and how it functioned.

[*]

It took two days for Enji to notice Shouto's catatonic state and lifeless stare. He'd been busy dealing with the paperwork necessary to hospitalize his wife after her psychotic breakdown and her attack on their youngest child. Also the press — keeping the nosy fuckers away from his family problems was of utmost importance. Good thing he showered his PR staff and lawyers in money.

It was a comment from Fuyumi which had clued Enji in on the boy's ghost-like presence around the house.

Shouto, excused from school for a couple of weeks after the incident, would be seen wandering the halls in a daze; he'd often gravitate to the kitchen or his mother's bedroom, and stay there for indefinite amounts of time. He only moved when someone nudged him out of the rooms.

His son, he also came to notice quickly, was very responsive to commands in that state. As if his brain was more than happy to be given directions or orders to follow.

Any sort of command.

«Stop right there, Shouto,» Enji ordered one day, seeing the boy walking down the corridor in front of his open studio door. Shouto did as told, making Enji hum, curiosity piqued. «Come in Shouto, and close the door.»

His son obeyed, standing just past the threshold, his face devoid of any real expression and a haunted look in his eyes. It was disconcerting, Enji had to admit, but the cooperativeness was pleasing after all the reluctance to follow directives Shouto had shown since they'd begun his training.

«Come to me, boy,» he said, waving him over. «And speak, I'm tired of you playing mute.»

Shouto slowly crossed the distance, halting beside the chair Enji was sitting in. «Father.» His voice was scratchy from disuse and a bit dull, but it was still an improvement over the contempt it held before.

Something could be bettered though.

«Call me 'Daddy', boy,» he ordered.

«Yes, Daddy.»

The word sent a shiver down Enji's spine. Something wicked and dark—a desire to claim what was his on the most base level — awakening inside him for the first time in months, maybe years. Rei wasn't here to stop him, this time; she wasn't here to distract him with her own body, or to send Fuyumi his way in her stead.

Shouto was all his for the taking, now.

«Your Mommy was taken away because of you, Shouto. And since you're the reason she's not here anymore, it'll be your job to do everything Mommy did for Daddy. Do you understand, Shouto?»

«Yes, Daddy. I'll do everything Mommy did for Daddy, because it's my fault she was taken away.»

The smirk slashing through his face was nothing but sinister.

«Good boy.»

They were in Rei's bedroom, alone and with the door locked. It wasn't necessary, frankly: his and his wife's rooms were on a different side of the house from his kids', and none of them were about to come looking for him, not after dinner anyway.

Enji had come out of the bathhouse to find Shouto once again in his mother's room, gaze lost like a kicked puppy.

Defenseless. Adrift.

And Enji was there, because it was easy to take advantage of a traumatized child when you use the excuse of providing him with an anchor, a grounding touch.

He spread out Rei's futon on the tatami mats — a half-empty bottle of lube rolled out of it as well —, sat down with his legs loosely crossed in front of him and reached out a hand toward Shouto. His other hand undoing the knot of the towel at his hips.

«Here, Shouto, come sit in my lap,» Enji ordered.

«Yes, Daddy.» Shouto plopped down in the circle his legs made, back straight and blinking slow, breath even.

He didn't protest when Enji took his hand in a gentle hold, brushing a large thumb over the white knuckles; he didn't protest when Enji cradled the bandaged side of his face in his other hand. He didn't try to back away, as Enji coaxed his jaws open and delved two thick fingers inside, the rough pads gliding over a soft tongue and gums. Back and forth, deeper at each passage and full of intent.

A flush began to creep onto Shouto's cheeks; his breath humid as it puffed over the back of Enji's hand, a spark flickering to light in his uncovered eye.

He brought his son's hand toward his groin, pleased to see him follow the movement, gaze focusing on the swelling cock nestled in dark crimson curls. A shiver coursed through Shouto's thin frame as his fingers made contact, a sigh escaping parted pale-pink lips.

«Daddy...» Shouto whispered, muffled by Enji's digits still in his mouth.

«Go on Shouto,» Enji said, letting his hand fall from the boy's face, setting it at his slim waist. «You remember what to do, right?»

Shouto nodded, too lost in the moment to respond verbally, but it was fine.

Enji picked up the lube, squirting some in the boy's palm. Cold fingers wrapped around his length — barely long enough to circle the girth of it even when limp — and stroked, the touch tentative, trembling but growing surer at each pass. The push and pull of the foreskin as it glided over the head, the stiffening of the cock under his fingertips seemed to entice Shouto. His pupil dilated the harder Enji got, the blush on his face darkening at each of Enji's pleased hums.

«Good, Shouto,» Enji praised. He groaned when his son's other hand joined in the stroking, the dual sensation of hot and cold enclosing his cock feeling nice on his burning skin. «Put more strength into it, boy.»

«Yes… Daddy,» Shouto whispered, sounding winded as his whole body shifted with his movements. Sweat started beading at his hairline from the extersion and the heat radiating off of Enji.

«Remember, Shouto, this is your duty now. Taking care of my needs, of my cock, is your responsibility.»

«… Because it's my... fault Mommy's not… here anymore...»

«That's right.» Enji smirked, dripping corruption and lust unbecoming of a hero. «Get your mouth down there, c'mon. Like I told you.»

Once the bandages came off his face and Shouto was cleared by the doctor to go back to school, the vacancy in his stare finally began to recede day by day. He no longer wandered around the house like a ghost and he talked more often, as stilted and curt as his sentences were.

A positive thing, according to the majority of people Enji spoke to — a phrase which never failed to make him raise an eyebrow. He could understand such naivety from Fuyumi, but from adults who should know better than to sweep PTSD and trauma under the rug? Bullshit. They were just trying to appease him, Endeavor, the #2 Hero.

They were lucky that worked perfectly for Enji.

He could do without the new-found sparks of defiance in Shouto's eyes whenever they crossed paths or trained in the dojo, sure, but in was worth it when all the fight bled out of his tiny frame at the first glimpse of Enji's cock. He knew playing his hand while the boy was in a malleable state would be beneficial in drilling some key concepts in his brain.

«That was weak, Shouto! Fuyumi could have punched harder than that!» Enji reprimanded, eyes narrowed in Shouto's direction at his poor attitude.

He received a glare from the other side of the dojo, Shouto then kicking the dummy in the dick with an angry yell. Enji almost rolled his eyes at the display, but a sudden groan caught his attention.

«Ah— nnh…!»

Shouto was squirming where he stood, face pinched in discomfort and the heel of one hand carefully rubbing at his groin. Ah, Enji thought, it's the cage isn't it. Of course it was — it'd been only a week since Enji had put it on Shouto; he wasn't used to it yet.

«Stop touching it, Shouto,» Enji said. «It won't help—»

«Shut up! Take it off of me!»

Enji stood up, growling low and stalking toward his son. He gripped a fistful of bi-colored hair and shoved Shouto's face into his crotch none too gently, grinding him against his clothed, soft cock. Any protest died quickly. A breathy moan warming Enji's bulge, which twitched in interest as Shouto nudged his nose further into the crease between his thigh and pelvis.

«I told you not to touch the cage, Shouto,» Enji said, looking down at the boy.

«Mmkay,» Shouto muttered into the fabric of his sweatpants; his tiny arms embracing Enji's waist. «Daddy… wanna…»

«What do you want?»

«Daddy's… Da— haa!-» Enji rubbed a knee over Shouto's trapped little dick- «cock! Nnnh— Daddy's cock! P-Please...»

Enji chuckled. «And what d'you wanna do with it, mh, Shouto?»

Shouto looked up at him, flushed face and eyes swimming with desire to please. Enji could imagine the boy's mind quickly being overtaken by thoughts of his cock; touching it, stroking it, feeling its weight and warmth on his tongue — the way he'd been primed to in the weeks after the incident.

«S-service you— ah! — Daddy… please!»

«Since you're being so polite-» Enji patted his head, then undid the pants' drawstring and pulled them down enough for his cock to bounce free- «go ahead.»

Shouto's eyes light up, a needy whine falling from pink lips. «Thank you Daddy!»

He delved right in, mouth parting to suckle on the head, tongue sneaking under the foreskin and swirling around it like an ice-cream cone. Popping off the tip, Shouto moved down the hard length, kissing and licking every pulsing vein all the way to the base; he coated Enji's cock in saliva to ease the stroking of his small hands while he nuzzled up to the sac under it.

«Suck on those, boy,» Enji grunted, a large hand on the nape of Shouto's head. «That's where you came from.»

Shouto's tongue lapped at his heavy balls with careful brushes, lips puckering over the sensitive skin, sucking gently. Over and over, he kissed Enji's sac with something akin to reverence in both his touches and his eyes. His breath was humid and hitching as he worshiped Enji like the all-consuming being he was.

A low rumble reverberated in Enji's chest, his palm caressing red-and-white hair in silent appreciation. «Yeah… like that, Shouto. You like Daddy's cock, don't you?»

Shouto moaned, long and trembling with need. «Ah! I… I-I— yes! Like-» his lips attached to Enji's cock-head once again, drinking up the pre-cum oozing from it and mewling- «mngh— l-love it Daddy!» He rutted against Enji's leg, no doubt trying to find relief for his tiny dick trapped in that cage.

«Good boy. Now back to sucking.»

Enji unceremoniously pushed Shouto's parted mouth down on his twitching cock, fucking into it fast but controlled, thrusts shallow as his son let himself be used. Flushed cheeks hollowing and puffing out in time with his movements, and small hands cupping his balls, it didn't take long for Enji to feel himself starting to cum.

«Here it comes, Shouto,» he groaned, fingers dipping into the boy's nape to keep him still. «My seed— shit! Ngh!— don't spill any!»

Shouto's muffled assent sent jolts of pleasure up his cock, pushing him over the edge until he was dumping a load of scorching cum down the awaiting throat. Shouto drank and drank, lips tightening around his length to coax out every drop.

The sight alone — of Shouto's still-developing Adam's Apple bob — arousing him enough he could go for a second round immediately. «Like mother, like son: she loved to guzzle it down too.»

«Quit your squirming, dammit!» Enji growled, a rough palm on his son's hip.

«Nooo…! Back— put it back Daddy! Too empty...» Shouto cried.

Enji ignored the whining and the wriggling hips, too busy trying to reach for the lube one-handed, to appreciate the desperation Shouto was showing. At last managing to pop the bottle open, Enji poured the lube over the boy's slightly puffy hole — a huff of laughter escaping him at the squeak it earned him — and sank a finger inside.

Shouto's body shivered, no longer fighting. «Daddy...»

«Yeah,» Enji said. His digit moving back and forth, taking stock of how prepped his son's ass was after pulling out the plug which had been stretching him. «This is better, mh? A minute without something filling you up is unbearable, isn't it.»

The only answer he got was a whorish moan and Shouto pushing back into his hand.

Enji had introduced butt plugs around three months into his molding of Shouto into his personal, perfect cock-slut. He'd been dreaming about fucking his son well before Rei had snapped and gotten herself locked away in a hospital, and after teaching Shouto how to pleasure him with his mouth, Enji had decided it was time he started training that cute, round ass to take his cock. It'd been a couple of painstakingly long years. Years filled of better and better blowjobs, thigh-fucking — and occasional Fuyumi-fucking, because sometimes he missed the familiar feeling of a cold and wet pussy soaking up his boiling-hot cum —, and the slow-increasing girth of butt plugs up Shouto's hole.

The wait was finally over.

Enji was already rock-hard at the prospect of sinking balls-deep in Shouto.

His son seemed eager as well; spine curving sharply upward, hands gripping the futon under his shaking body in a vice. «Hhhnggh…!! O-oh! Da-Daddy! More— aah!— moreee!»

Enji smirked, a second finger pushing alongside the first to scissor and loosen Shouto; a third was quick to follow, and a fourth, the blushing rim stretched deliciously around his fingers, shiny with lube and fluttering. Enji shifted his hand back a little, calloused pads prodding at his son's prostate, licking his lips at Shouto's shocked yell. He kept up the touch until Shouto's walls were quaking and he was orgasming with his ass, his little caged dick limp but twitching uselessly over the sheet.

«Look at that, Shouto, you mastered the art of cumming like a woman,» Enji praised, fingers popping out of the boy with a squelch.

Shouto was out of it, drowning in post-coital bliss. «… Like a wo… man… did good?... Daddy…?»

«Yes, you did good. So good, you deserve my cock.»

Shouto didn't have time to say anything, Enji lubing himself up quickly and thrusting inside the small body in the next minute. Both moaned, when he bottomed out, then he pulled the boy up to sit on his thighs. Hands at a slim waist — leaving bruises on the milky-white skin —, Enji began ramming Shouto onto his cock at a brutal pace, the slapping of skin on skin loud and obscene, a nice background to the gritty grunts and the breathless mewls they made.

«How's Daddy's cock, mh, Shouto?»

«Mmngh! Aaah! Oh— l-l-loooove it…! Daddy!! Oh! Hhhgaah— yes! Cock!! Co— AH!»

Shouto was a mess of snot and tears and drool, with barely enough functioning brain cells to form words while he was mercilessly bounced on Enji's cock. His guts were speared continuously, his stomach visibly bulging every time Enji thrusted into him; his prostate was brushed against over and over to the point of pain, but Shouto kept moaning and sobbing in pleasure like Enji had molded him to—a slut for anything Daddy's cock gave him.

And Enji made sure to tell him.

«What a... whore! Happy to be a— ngh— rag-doll in my grasp... just to get my— shit!— cock. Ready to crawl— haa!— on your knees and choke on it! You're a bitch in heat, Shouto— my bitch. My cock-slut!»

«Yours, yes! Yesyes! Slut— AH! DADDY! AH! AH!»

Shouto orgasmed again, body like jello in Enji's hands as he shook and shuddered and pissed all over the futon. He kept up his onslaught anyway, fucking up into Shouto through his walls' clenching down on him until he was cumming violently inside, still thrusting while he rode it out, uncaring of the seed spilling down his cock and adding to the nasty mess.

«Thank… you… Daddy...»

«Mmh, good boy, Shouto.»

[*]

He sees his son walk towards him, on his way to compete in his first match. «Shouto,» he calls, «I'm expecting to see you use your fire today.» Shouto scowls, seeming determined to ignore him and that won't do for Enji. He steps in front of his son, blocking the passage with his large frame; this time it's him who ignores Shouto's gritted «Get out of my way». He bends at the waist until their faces are as close as can be with Enji's quirk active. «I put up with this defiance at home,» he says. «but here and now? It's going to ruin your performance and I won't have that.» «Fuck o—» Shouto starts, only for the words to die out as soon as he sees Enji unzip the fly of his hero suit and pull out his limp cock. He smirks. The change in demeanor is instantaneous: Shouto's pupils swell, black overtaking gray and blue irises; his jaws grow slack and his lips part; a rosy tint blossoms on his cheeks. Tense shoulders sag. In the next second, Shouto's on his knees in front of him. «Daddy...» he whines. «Aah, that's better,» Enji says. He reaches out, weaves his large hand in bi-colored hair. A low moan leaves his son's throat. He can practically see the saliva gathering on the boy's tongue in anticipation, can see him squirm on the floor as the seconds pass by. Shouto moves closer, nosing at the crimson pubes at the base of Enji's cock but not touching the half-hard shaft. He wasn't given permission to yet. «Need your Daddy's cock to calm down, mh?» Enji teases. «Like a baby with his pacifier-» with his free hand, he strokes himself, quickly growing fully hard at the sight of Shouto panting and sniffing at his crotch like a dog- «wanna be a good boy for Daddy?» Shouto nods wordlessly, slowly humping his boot and Enji can vaguely feel the chastity cage rub on him through Shouto's clothes. «Yes! Yes, please Daddy...! Please, your cock— oooh I want it! Daddy, please... pleasepleaseDa— mgahghn!» Enji grabs a fistful of white-n-red hair and pulls on it, shoving his cock past slack jaws without hesitation. «Suck Shouto,» he orders. Shouto moans around him. His hands grope Enji's thighs, blunt nails digging into the muscle as an anchor while he starts bobbing his head over the massive length. His tongue swirls around the shaft in just the right way to make Enji groan; Shouto's throat constricts as he's swallowed past his son's gag reflex, the vibrations from the mewls travel all the way up Enji's spine. His son's mouth is perfect. «Yeah, that's more— nngh— like it! Fuck, Shouto— you love my... cock mh? That's a good whore—» Wet and tight around him — it almost reminds him of Rei's and Fuyumi's pussies. «Cool yourself down a bit boy,» he grunts. When his son does as told, Enji moans at the feeling and fucks himself deeper, harder past Shouto's lips—they're stretched and puffy and red, with drool oozing down his chin. Shouto chokes on his cock yet keeps working it like the greedy slut he is. He ignores the tears running down his flushed cheeks and the snot mixing with his spit and Enji's pre-cum. His face looks dazed and Enji knows Shouto's brain is mush right now: the only words blaring in there are "COCK" and "DADDY" and "DADDY'S CUM". Exactly the way Enji wants him. It's what Enji's taught him ever since Rei had disappeared from the house, eight years ago-and his youngest cock-sleeve has grown up to be exceptionally great at giving head. The most talented at it since his mother. «Take Daddy's spunk, you slutty boy!» Enji says through gritted teeth as he feels himself getting close. He rips Shouto's mouth off him, gripping his cock and stroking himself quick and harsh until his balls draw up and he's throbbing in his own fist. «Open up and say— fuck!— thank you!» Shouto whines, swollen lips parted and tongue lolling out, waiting to be fed. It's enough to push Enji off the edge. With one last stroke, he's cumming, the thick ropes of seed landing on his son's eager tongue as well as on the bridge of his nose and his left cheek. He milks his orgasm to the last drop, staring down at Shouto with a dark glint in his eyes as the boy slurps up all the cum sizzling on his face. «Thank you Daddy...» Behind him, Present Mic's voice calls for Shouto's name.

#todocest #enjishouto #todoroki enji | endeavor #todoroki shouto #bnha #rarepair #funkys fics #guess who randomly decided to change theme of this blog lol #and to post the fics I've written since The PurgeTM #maybe #I honestly forgot how annoying it is to format here from AO3

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moons-and-stars-and-shit · 4 years ago

Note

Hey!! I saw that your matchup request is open so id like one too!

Light academia, cottagecore sometimes just causla are my go to fashion.

Personality :

Sensible, sympathetic, self-driven, approachable, reliable, realistic. Though people see me as kind, optimistic, confident, and intimidating (at first). I Also tend to mask up my feelings since i put others before my self, i dont rely want to burden them with my opinions/ what i feel, cause it might cause trouble or so.

What i want in a relationship or s/o

My zodiac and mbti personality~

Mine is capricorn and im a libra ascendant with infj-t personality type!

Hobbies

Kickboxing, volleyball, track and field, singing, reading, cleaning, eating (ofc who doesn't 😼).

Likes

Food (yep yes), music, books /movies (horror, thriller and rom/com), anime and manga, science, literature, daydreaming, laughter/smiles, cold weather, clear blue skies, strong wind/ windy weather, witch core, ethereal, witchcore and light academia.

Thats all, ithink? Thank you in advance!

Romantic Matchup

Akaashi Keiji

How Y’all Met

Ok 👏

So you we’re in the school library

Yknow just reading and shit 🤓

And akaashi was just walking by when he saw that you were reading one of his favorite books

He’s never met another person who found this book interesting

So he just HAD to take the opportunity to talk to you about it

So he approached you

Soon enough you both were in a deep conversation about the book

Theorizing, analyzing all that shit

Then the conversation shifted to the topic of other books

Turns out you both liked a lot of the same authors!

Your conversation was interrupted by the schools bell

Signaling that it was time to head home for the day

But akaashi wanted to keep talking with you

So he offered to take you out to some ramen

And who were you to say no to food 👀

So you guys headed out to the nearest ramen shop

Talking each others ears off on the way

And the talking didn’t stop when you got to the restaurant either

You don’t know why but something about akaashi made you feel comfortable enough to open up and share more about yourself

And honestly akaashi felt the same way about you

After you two finished eating he offered to walk you home

What a gentleman :3

When you got to your doorstep something came over akaashi and he asked you out on a first date

You laughed a little telling him that this practically was your first date before accepting his offer and going inside

If only you saw the blush and smile that appeared on Akaashi’s face

What They Love About You

He loves how easy it is to talk to you!

I Hc that akaashi actually has a really hard time talking to people

Hence why he sticks around with Bokuto so much

So the fact that he can just talk to you about anything makes his hears go ✨❤️💗💖❤️✨

He LOVES your general aesthetic

Like you can not look at this man and tell me his not into SOME kind of academia

So he really just vibes with your aesthetic

He likes the fact that you like to read!

It’s just nice to have that special thing in common with someone

Plus reading is really what brought you two together in the first place

Favorite Things To Do Together

Read duh

Honestly you two have started a book club at this point

You two just read books then come together and talk about them

To akaashi nothing beats just sitting with you on the couch with a good book on a rainy day

Very specific I know

But other than reading

He loves to go ascending with you!

If either of you find an interesting place on the internet or in a book

Then y’all are going

No if’s ands or buts about it

The amount of memories you two have about going on these little adventures is crazy

Random Hc

Akaashi loves horror movies

He really likes predicting what’s going to happen

And about 86% of the time he’s right 😳

Akaashi really loves the rain

The sounds, the vibes, just everything about it

His dream is to recreate that dancing in the rain moment with you

He never says it out loud

But he really likes the fact that you enjoy cleaning 🤭

I feel like he gets really anxious when somethings to messy

But with you around he never has to worry about that 👍

Astrology

When Sagittarius and Capricorn join together in a love match, things may start slow and they may feel that they don’t have much to gain from the other.

In some ways, Sagittarius and Capricorn are opposites

Sagittarius is easy going, whimsical, seeks knowledge for its own sake, always jumps headfirst into new things, and is typically impatient.

Capricorn is detail-oriented and passive, even shy, and is always looking toward the next project.

Their differences can actually forge a stronger relationship in the long run, there being vast amounts each partner can learn from the other.

Early in the relationship, Sagittarius and Capricorn may not be able to see past one another’s flaws.

Sagittarius can at times seem unruly, and Capricorn may come across pompous and elitist.

But once they stop focusing on one another’s faults and look to their respective strengths, they’ll see a vast pool of attractive qualities.

Sagittarius can show Capricorn adventure and excitement, and can offer a glimpse of the freedom so often missing from Capricorn’s life.

Capricorn teaches Sagittarius to pay attention to detail, uncovers the knowledge that the little things are important, and helps them to harness their random energy.

Sagittarius may view Capricorn as too responsible, and will teach their partner to lighten up.

Capricorn may accuse Sagittarius of being reckless and impulsive, and can help them to become well mannered.

It’s their effectiveness in working out minor bumps in the road.

When they overcome their initial resistance to one another, this pair will see how much they have to gain from one another.

Their personalities, different in so many ways, make theirs a highly effective love match.

Overall Aesthetic

Classic Academia

Songs-

Coffee Breath - Sofia Mills

I’m in love with u, sorry - j’san

Slow Dancing in the Dark - Joji

Lost in You - Khai Dreams

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu fandom #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu matchups #akaashi keiji #akaashi #akaashi x reader #akaashi x y/n

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pi-cat000 · 4 years ago

Text

BNHA: something sad (Implosion)

Summary: The last time Katsuki sees Izuku alive the other boy is rushing to save him. A ‘the Sludge Villain incident gone wrong’ aka Izuku dies.

Characters: Katsuki Bakugo

Fandom: My Hero Academia

WARNINGS! Major Character death, swearing, heavy angst, graphic descriptions of violence

Other parts in this AU: (Something Sad), (Anger), (Grief)

...

(Katsuki gets a taste of vigilantism)

“GET OFF!” Katsuki struggles against the hands pulling him down. Down. Down into never-ending darkness. Ahead of him is Deku, trapped in a swirling cocoon of shifting green sludge. The idiot is smiling, so bloody pleased with himself like he isn’t seconds away from death. He yells and struggles but the shadowy figures holding him are unaffected. All they do is watch with empty eyes.

Katsuki flings himself upright, taking several hash breaths. The air is still, the silence oppressive. Around him, the walls of his bedroom loom, the single remaining All Might poster he still has up glaring down at him. He is shaking drenched in sweat, hands twitching, itching, eager to blow something up. Anything to loosen the knot of empty, pointless frustration stuck in his chest. In between breaths, Katsuki rolls out of bed, yanking a jacket from where it is slung over his lopsided desk in the same move. He is not wearing a shirt and he doesn’t want to go out completely exposed.

The front door is deadlocked and needs a key. A change brought about by his continued unsanctioned trips outside. Luckily, it is not his only exit option. Katsuki yanks open his bedroom window, sticking his head out, scanning the narrow walkway that runs between his building and the next. Nothing moves, the dark space is empty save for the apartment’s collection of communal garbage bins. Quickly, he shimmies out through the narrow opening, twisting so he can drop feet first.

It is four stories down and he lets himself fall, forming twin blasts in both hands to slow his descent.

He had long theorised that he would be able to increase and decrease his momentum with controlled explosive bursts. Pain shoots through his ankles as he lands in a crouch next to the bins but it’s not bond-breaking, so he guesses his theory is correct.

Katsuki straightens, listening to the muffled sounds of a TV playing somewhere in the building next to him. It doesn’t seem like the sound of his blasts had caught anybody’s attention. The air outside is muggy, still warm from the day's heat. Another beat passes and he is strolling off down the street, hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets, bare feet silent on the sun-warmed pavement. Slowly, his breathing returns to normal. Now, if he could only find something to distract his dumb brain from re-playing the scene of Deku’s final moments that would be great. He needs something to fuel his anger and rage so he can distract himself from the new empty bitterness, burrowing into his chest.

The few people he passes are salarymen returning from an evening drinking and they all give him a wide berth. He glares, daring one of them to comment on his appearance or take issue with the fact that he is a middle-schooler roaming the streets at midnight. None of them do. The cowards.

Katsuki is cutting through backstreets, making his way towards one of the busier sections of the city, when a faint groaning sound catches his attention. He freezes, listening, eyes darting over the plain brick walls, scanning the taller office buildings and apartment complexes for the source. There…around the corner… two streets down…there is someone groaning. He stalks forward, following the murmur of angry voices. In between angry muttering is the yelp of a person in pain.

Katsuki breaks into a jog, turning in the direction of the noise, following till he can make out conversation.

“I told you to pay up old man. You stupid or something.”

“Please. I don’t have any money…”

There is the thunk of something solid hitting flesh.

Katsuki comes to a stop near the entrance to a shadowed alleyway just big enough to fit a small car. There is a group of three adults in loose clothing, looming over a downed fourth person. A tall lanky man with a metal bat, a shorter guy with bulging arm muscles, and a greasy-haired man holding a knife are focused on an older man who is holding a briefcase over his head like a shield. Thoughts of Deku fade to be replaced with single-minded determination.

“Hey losers,” he strolls out into full view, “How about you fight someone who’s not missing his geriatrics appointment.”

All three would-be muggers, he’ll call them Tiny, Lanky and Grease-Hair, freeze, turning as one to stare at him. In his chest his blood seems to come alive as his heart rate ramps up.

“What the hell?” Tiny looks to his fellow muggers for confirmation, “it’s a kid?”

There are few seconds of disbelieving silence before Grease-Hair shakes off their collective aneurism. “Hey kid! Why don’t you fuck off? This is none of your business.”

“You weak, wannabe-thugs got a problem with the truth?” He smirks, fingers twitching. His response has three, four if you include the Brief-Case man, incredulous looks directed his way.

“You got hearing problems kid? He said to fuck off,” Lanky steps forward, resting his bat across his shoulder in a display of aggression.

Katsuki cracks his knuckles as loudly as possible and settles into a semi-crouch, ready to use his blasts to propel himself forward. It was time to put his newly confirmed quirk ability to the test.

“Guess the standard for criminals around here just really sucks.”

“You got a death wish brat?” Grease-Hair brandishes his knife, coming to stand beside Tall-and-Lanky, “I’ll make you cry so fucking much you shit stain.”

“HA! as if you could!” All at once his anger, excitement and frustration spike into a wave of adrenalin.

Before Grease-Hair can take another step toward him, Katsuki launches himself forward, propelling himself with as big a blast as he can manage without breaking his arms. As Katsuki is naturally hardier than the average person-a secondly quirk characteristic- the blast ends up being pretty damn big. WHOOOM! It rattles the glass in the adjacent windows. His last coherent thought before he lets his mind succumb to the rush of exhilaration is that he needs to take out one of these guys as quickly as possible to even the odds.

Crunch, is the sound Grease-Hair’s face and nose make when he slams his knee into it. The snap of bones breaking is unnervingly satisfying. Grease-Hair topples over, eyes blank, expression of shock frozen on his face as he takes an express trip into dreamland. The knife clatters on the concrete.

“Holy crap!” The two remaining men offer shouts of alarm. The bat comes hurtling towards his head and Katsuki hurls himself to the side, ignoring the stab of pain that runs up his shoulder when he lands at an awkward angle. He flexes his hands, throwing both arms up in direction of his attacker who is now trying to bring the bat down on his legs.

BOOM!

Fire and smoke erupt between them, throwing them in opposite directions. The bright flash of light and heat provides enough cover for him to roll on his feet. Tiny and Lanky stumble backward and Brief-Case man makes a run for it while they are distracted. In the main street, several car alarms go off. Katsuki, being unaffected by the explosion, recovers first and leaps through the smoke, fists clenched. Moving his arm around in an arching swing, it smacks into Lanky’s head. He barely feels this sting in his wrist and knuckles as the skin on his knuckles break against his teeth. Blood sprays into the air.

It is at this point that Tiny recovers enough to retreat a few paces and make a slashing motion with his hand. Some invisible force slams into Katsuki’s side and he is flung sideward away from Lanky. Pain blossoms in his ribs and he lets off a clumsily blast to slow his momentum. He still hits the wall of the ally hard enough to leave cracks in the brick. Blood fills his mouth from where he has accidentally bitten into the side of his tongue.

A quirk effect? Something invisible that hit hard and had some range to it. Not great for him. He pushes off the wall, crouching, ready to dodge. Tiny drags Lanky to his feet. They are both glaring at him, eyes dark.

He coughs, and, even as the distant realisation that this might not have been a good idea tugs at his thoughts, he grins, “You pieces of trash are weak shit.”

“You’re fucking dead,” Lanky fumes.

Unfortunately- or maybe fortunately- Katsuki never finds out what the two thugs would have done next in retaliation because there is a loud, amplified shout from the ally entrance.

“FREEZE COMBATANTS.”

A blinding white light flickers on and illuminates the entire alleyway, making him wince and bring an arm up to shield his eyes.

“Shit. Cops.” Both Tiny and Lanky turn, obviously intending to make a run for it, only to realise that the ally ends in a tall stone wall.

“WOULD ALL COMBATANTS TAKE FIVE STEPS AWAY FROM EACH OTHER AND FACE THE WALL!”

Katsuki glowers in the direction of the megaphone-enhanced voice but can only make out the silhouettes of almost a dozen figures against the spotlight. Well, he’s definitely in shit now.

“ANYONE WHO DOES NOT COMPLY WILL BE SUBDUED BY FORCE!”

“Shit. Damn it.” Both men throw their hands in the air in a display of surrender not willing to try and take on what looked like half of the Musutafu police depo. Katsuki begrudgingly follows suit, his breath beginning to even out as the rush adrenalin dips now that the fighting was over.

“Turn around and face the wall,” Is shouted once more, “Keep your hands in the air.” The silhouettes begin their approach. And they all awkwardly stand in a line and stare at the grey brick. Around them, blasted fragments of asphalt and ripped up concrete stand as damning evidence of his involvement. Guess he’ll be taking that ‘trip to the station’ after all. No way the bastards were going to let him off with a stern lecture after this.

“I hope you’re happy you psycho shit,” Lanky snaps, drawing his attention and he notes that the man is now missing one of his front teeth, “Got us all fuckin in arrested.”

Katsuki spits out the blood that has been collecting in his mouth since he hit the wall. It spats on the ground near the man’s feet, “You got beaten up by a middle schooler. I did the criminal underworld a favour getting your weak asses off the street.”

That hits a nerve going by how the man’s face twists into a snarl of rage “Why you little…” Lanky lunges towards him and is immediately blocked by a swarm of police officers who have since surround them and tackle the man to the ground. “HEY, DON’T MOVE!” “GET ON THE GROUND” There is a lot of yelling, swearing, and spitting but the thug is quickly overwhelmed.

“All right, you, the one standing on the left…”

Katsuki shifts his attention from watching Lanky get wrestled into cuffs to the tired-sounding cop standing a few feet behind him. Is it just him or does the guy sound annoyingly familiar?

“Put your arms down and cross them behind your back…” the sentence trails off.

“Bakugō?”

Katsuki squints over his shoulder at the familiar face of Senior Officer Watanabe. So…not just him. Fucking fantastic. Said familiar face is frozen, surprised, hands half way to opening a set of bulky cuffs.

There is a long exhale, “What have you done now.”

“Done?” Katsuki sneers, “I saw these assholes beating the shit out of some old man so I beat the shit of them instead.” Now the fight is over, that feeling of irritable restlessness is creeping back.

The Senior Officer shakes his head in disbelief, “Geeze kid, this isn’t like setting off explosives in the park, vigilantism is a serious offence.”

“What? I was supposed to do nothing then?” He grits his teeth. There, he can feel it, the anger flaring up again.

“You’re supposed to call for help. You’re lucky we got reports of the altercation and responded as quick as we did. You’re a mess kid.”

“Tch. I was handling it.”

The man looks at him funny before letting out a long exhausted breath, “Are you going to come quietly so I can get an EMT to look you over or do I have to put you in these suppressant cuffs?” A pause, “ And where is your shirt … and shoes?”

“Do whatever old man.” Katsuki ignores the second question.

A firm hand lands on his shoulder, which he tries and fails to shrug off, pulling him off towards the entrance of the ally. The cuffs are handed off to another officer. They pass Tiny and Lanky who are both now sitting cross-legged on the ground, hands secured behind their backs, facing the wall. Grease-Hair, still unconscious, is being fussed over by two men in white and red paramedic uniforms. There is a small crater where Katsuki had let off his larger blast.

“Your handy work I presume?” Watanabe asks.

“Hell yeah it is.”

That gets another sigh, “This is all going on your record. You do understand that, right?”

It must be the remaining adrenalin that has him laughing, “Like I give a shit.”

#bnha #mha #Baku no hero academia #my hero academia #katsuki bakugō #graphic descriptions of violence #major character death #coarse language #lots of swearing #vigilante bakugou #bakugou swears and gets into fights #Sludge Villain incident gone wrong #aka izuka dies #fanfiction #fanfic #bnha fanfic #angst #nightmare #something sad au

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sheepfulsheepyardinspace · 5 years ago

Note

Do you have any Star Wars fanfic recommendations, or have a link to someone else's list? I really wanna veg out.

oh my god, DO I. this may have been the best ask in the world. i’m not really sure what u want a feel for, so i threw together some of my favorite longfics for maximum veg time from the ot/pt and links for swr and swtcw recs. they’re pretty much all luke-anakin/vader centric, since that’s kinda my bread and butter.

let’s start with frodogenic, who wrote the first longfic i ever read in sw and might be one of the funniest authors ever. they once reviewed my fanfic & i nearly cried from joy. anyway.

The Father, 284k+, complete. “Ten years after ROTS, tormenting nightmares of his unborn child drive Darth Vader to extraordinary measures with unexpectedly drastic consequences. Clearly, experience has taught Darth Vader nothing...”

this is my og star wars fic and boy oh boy is it amazing. i will never get over this. i don’t want to spoil anything but when i say the final chapters are great? i mean they’re legendary. sometimes i still think about them & wish upon a star that i could be such a great writer. vader’s amazing, han is spectacular, and the ocs are fantastic.

Far More Than Rubies, 70k+, complete. “Nine years after AOTC, tragedy revisits the Lars Homestead. Little Luke Skywalker is suddenly plunged into chaos as the rebel movements discover a secret military project that may make a crucial difference in the war with the Empire.”

the spiritual twin of The Father, FMTR takes a look at padmé’s character and relationship with both luke and anakin/vader that’s hard to beat. it’s darker and heavier than The Father, but it hits those same sweet, sweet emotional beats while raising the age-old question: if padmé had lived, what would she have done?

The Family Tree, 12k, complete. “In which Luke Skywalker is stranded in a tree waiting for a flash flood to recede. Too bad he's got company...”

okay, i admit, this isn’t a longfic, but it is a longshot, and it’s amazing. the imagery and description always blow me away, and the interaction (canon-compliant) between luke and vader just [chef’s kiss] get me. vader’s in full, glorious form, and it makes it all the harder when luke wrestles with the knowledge that vader is his father.

Sibling Revelry, 25k, complete. “After Bespin and before Endor, Darth Vader is shocked to discover that Luke and Leia are twins. He's even more shocked when Imperial Intelligence reports that Organa and Skywalker are, erm, a tad closer than previously suspected.”

this is complete crack and humor in the best way possible. it’s crack treated entirely seriously, and you will be in stitches, i promise. no matter how many times i’ve read this i break down.

KittandChips (@kittandchips) writes what i can only describe as food for the soul. the luke-vader interaction is insanely amazing, the world building of daily imperial life and imperial governance is amazing, and vader just has a special je ne sais quoi that u must read to understand––tragic, funny, and so, so fatherly. they’re currently rewriting the Force Bond Series to fit in with newer canon, so i will joyously binge reread the entire again (including the new Force Bond: Mustafar Weekend).

Force Bond 1: Orphan, 47k, complete. “After Owen and Beru are killed by a mysterious stranger, young Luke ends up as an orphan on Coruscant. It's a race against time as Obi-Wan struggles to find Luke before Vader realizes the boy is his son.”

Orphan kicks off the series, which tracks vader and luke’s relationship through the perils of luke’s teenagerhood while growing up under the eye of the emperor and imperial court. it’s filled with slow growth, struggle and misunderstandings as darth vader tries to single parent, and pay off in every installment. the entire series clocks in around 777k+ and is the most joyful, fulfilling reading you’ll ever have. promise.

darth-nickels (@darth--nickels) writes darker, twistier, and terribly, terribly heartwrenching aus. they’ve got a whole host, but let me introduce to my two favorites. also, check out their faux-academia on vader. it’s amazing and i love it, but i admit i am an academia hoe.

Dooku Captured, Pt 2, 16k, complete. “Dooku is taken alive onboard the Invisible Hand, and Sidious' web is torn. The Sith Lord wonders if death might have been preferable to clumsy interrogation by Anakin Skywalker.”

Dooku Captured is a longshot au told from Dooku’s pov which takes the beginning of ROTS and throws it on its head. it’s a fascinating outside perspective of anakin and obi-wan’s relationship and such and interesting examination of dooku’s psyche and especially his complex relationship with the jedi order, qui-gon, yoda, and palpatine. i cannot rec this one enough.

Black Mirror, 90k, incomplete. “The Ghost crew returns to the Lothal when they hear the Empire is investigating the Jedi Temple there. They learn Vader is alone and decide to take him out-- but what they find could change the course of Galactic history.”

Black Mirror diverges into swr territory, but make no mistake: this is entirely an examination of vader and, later, obi-wan as well as ahsoka. luke makes his appearance later in the game, and boy oh boy will you love luke’s portrayal is a microcosm of luke and vader’s relationship within canon. heed the tags, though.

jerseydevious ( @jerseydevious ) is, first and foremost, one of my favorite people on earth. secondly, though, she’s an amazing writer with a deep understanding of vader’s character and psyche, a flair for beautiful depictions, and the true ability to wring every emotion out of your body.

Two and a Half Men (with a baby), 13k, incomplete. “After a long day of bargaining with Hutts and attempting to ignore his past, Darth Vader is nearing the end of his rope. When he discovers his two-year-old son, it's the straw that breaks the semi-rational Sith Lord's back; in a rash act worthy of the Skywalker name, he scoops his son into his arms, steals a shuttle from his own fleet, and punches in random hyperspace coordinates to a destination on the other side of the galaxy. Unfortunately, father and son are not the only ones on the ship.”

Two and a Half Men will stick with you, dude. like no other. i promise. it’s a whirlwind ride with obi-wan, vader, and piett and as funny as it is heartbreaking. it touches on some heavy issues and doesn’t shy away from looking at the damage done to vader––again, heed the tags.

Helioseismology, 4k, complete. “Luke gets shot down on a supply run and caught in an ice storm. It's extremely lucky that his father followed him there.“

i’ll admit. im completely biased about this one because it was a birthday gift to me and i am sucker for litcherally anything when jd puts pen to paper, but believe me when i say you will be awed by the depth and tangled relationships between these luke and vader that jersey can illustrate in a stroke of the paintbrush. im love. always.

izzythehutt ( @izzythehutt ) i am blown away by the intricate dialogue and characterization, always. and the latin puns? im sold. im also a sucker for latin puns, but that’s a story for a different time.

In Loco Pirates, 34k, complete. “A down-on-his-luck Hondo Ohnaka manages to capture the unicorn of all bounties--Luke Skywalker, which sends Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, on a painfully familiar trip to the planet Florrum to collect his prize. The failed negotiations leave Vader in the awkward position of being stuck in a besieged pirate bunker, trying to balance keeping his wayward child safe (and in his custody) with controlling the tongue of a loose-lipped pirate who--to the surprise of no one--has a bad habit of telling 'amusing' anecdotes from the Clone Wars.”

hondo, aka the best character of swtcw, is brought to life just as vividly on paper as on screen. his entire personality brings luke and vader’s difficulties in a sort of incredulous light, which makes it as funny as it is vulnerable and tragic. the sequel, Palpatine Ad Portas, brings piett into the spotlight, and oh man do his interactions with palpatine and vader bring u all the uncomfortable vibes. relish in it.

sparklight ( @littlesparklight ) man. lemme introduce u to an amazing prolific and detailed writer. i will never get over the series they’ve written & neither will u.

Where Our Intrepid Hero Doesn’t Get Away, 122k, incomplete. “One-shots surrounding either AU situations of canon/legends works where Luke would normally have gotten away (or Vader is simply inserted into the action to come pick his child up) but in these instances doesn't, or completely new scenarios of the same. There are no deep ruminations on consequences of the situations here, just our awful Sith dad picking his son up when he'd rather not be.”

exactly what it says on the tin. u know those glorious moments of fanfic where luke’s gotten captured and ur on pins and needles, waiting for vader to show up in a moment of dark glory? here’s the moment. here’s all the moments.

Space Race, 122k, incomplete. “Owen gives in to Luke's wish to attend the Imperial Academy and Obi-Wan is too late to avert it, though he's not too late to make sure Luke leaves Arkanis before Vader can gets his hands on him. Luke spends over a month running around the galaxy before his father gets him, and from there...”

this story relishes in chase and boy is it fun. it will keep you on the edge of your seat and it’s an amazing ride.

The Suns of Tatooine, 85k, complete. “Luke ends up on a moon swamped in dark side energy after a mission goes wrong, then his father appears... and then they go on a bit of a learning experience. This could've been the only thing that would come of getting through a Sith complex with his father, but thanks to going to free Han earlier than the gang did otherwise, more revelations are had. Will that change anything?”

this series is a thoughtful, contemplative piece examining the nature of the force and the relationship the skywalkers have with tatooine. the descriptions are beautiful, the inventiveness is amazing, and you’ll be thinking about it for long afterwards.

an additional few…

Between Flight and Longing; 34k, complete. “Luke Skywalker and Han Solo journey to the planet Balen'ar on a desperate mission and find more than they'd bargained for.”

a classic and it is for a reason. the interaction between han, luke, and vader is so spectacular and the slow trudge of going through the forest with your greatest enemy and best friend is something hilarious. the end is bittersweet and fantastic.

The Sith Who Brought Life Day, 13k, complete. “An Imperial officer loses a bet and has to get Darth Vader a present for Life Day.”

somewhere between terrifying and dull, this fic presents a canon-compliant look at the hunt for luke and the grinding wheels of the empire. the oc is amazing and it echoes in true star wars spirit: sometimes it’s just some dude who can change the galaxy.

Quintessence, 5k, complete. ‘“Well, Master, I think I’ve found the one positive aspect of this situation.” ��Which is?” “The Temple won’t have to pay the costs for our funeral pyres.”’

pure hilarity and shenanigans abound in pre-aotc obi-wan and anakin hijink goodness. lemme tell u––u will deeply sympathize with mace windu afterwards. additionally, check out the rest of the author’s oneshots! they’re deeply thoughtful and the interactions the author writes between obi-wan and anakin are always gold.

some extras & shameless self-promotion

here’s a full list of recommendations for star wars rebels fanfic in case this is what you’re looking for (remember when this used to be a swr blog, lmao)

i’ve also written sw fanfic, both swr and luke-vader centric. drop by and tell me if it’s any good!

#also if anybody knows these authors' tumblr accounts pls lmk so i can link them #guys remember piett?#i miss piett #firmus piett #star wars #star wars fanfic #sw fanfic #sw fic #three two one boom #jerseydevious #luke skywalker #darth vader #anakin skywalker #star wars rebels #late-in-the-day #idk if any of these r new at all to anyone #but they r my faves :)

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jrueships · 4 years ago

Note

The vampire Russ thoughts you have given out are 😌. He def speaks in a Dracula sort of way sometimes, idk if it’s just me

BUT the main reason for this ask is for some redacted Marcus/giannis thoughts. Or some Chris Paul/ others thoughts, in honor of the finals being almost over!

He is DEFINITELY Dracula core LMAO like dark academia fancy man but... with more fashion

Like... you cannot show me This and NOT tell me he's a fancy possible vampire kin WNDNSKNX

I'm just like. Obsessed with russ as a whole. I know some people don't like him and for valid reasons but like... he's so?? Interesting??? On the court he is unhinged but off the court he's just ?? Chill. Like basketball is anger therapy for him and when hes done with it, he's done LMAO. He sits all fancy and elegantly sips his wine from a glass and braids his kids' hair like!!! King shit man! After a hard day's work of screeching on court, he can lounge back on his throne and speak softly in his weird little mafia king pin sounding sweet voice: totally unbothered. Like!!!! That's so enigmatic to me!!he's so interesting !!!! A truly magnificent Dracula man...

OKAY BUT ABOUT. .... THEM....

HMM....

I think they're a lot like john/trae where they're definitely on the VERGE of being sexy together when they're having sex... but their goofy personalities just ruin the moment (not for them but for normal humans who don't laugh at every single thing LMAO) ... BUT I'LL TELL YOU ABOUT THEM ANYWAYS... I just don't know if it's HOT. Yknow like those are my fav ships. When they have sex but they don't have to have like... the perfect porno version of sex where everything is always hot and perfect and?? Yeah LMAO. I like when they're a bit more realistic and have to pause and ask if something is ok like?? Idk!!that's my shit! Idk maybe that's just me???

ANYWAYS REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED...

Okay. We all know about Mr. Foreplay at night Antetokounmpo. And we ALSO know how much raw short king energy Marcus exudes... I feel like on those special nights, maybe after a hard fought game where they're both competitively Pissed at each other (giannis moreso than Marcus.)... the goofiness is flown out the window for just. Straight up fierce, competitive sex. Whoever c*ms first loses. AJBDJS just practically wrestling. Like.. picture after a Celtics bucks game. Marcus has been bothering giannis nonstop with his defense and giannis is fucking. Mad. Nostrils flared, shoulders hunched up. He hasn't been getting any foul calls and the refs have not been on his side at All during the Marcus defense. In fact, they found it amusing how a 6'3 man can stop a Greek Giant. And they aren't the only ones laughing, because everytime Giannis turns back to look at the little defender... he's got the widest grin with two taunting smile lines adjacent.

Oh hell no.

After a tiresome game, normal players would have went straight to their hotel to take a long nap... but giannis wasn't Normal people. He's storming right into the Celtics locker room, right as Marcus is sending away some straggler rookies from the locker because he Already Knows what's gonna go down.

Giannis has the politeness to wait for everyone to leave before walking Marcus so far into his locker that the defender's knees buckle and he has to sit literally inside the locker looking up at Giannis's looming form. Two big hands at each side of the locker, Giannis cranes himself down at just. Glares at Marcus and his permanent smug smile. Normal people would have shit their pants if they saw this 6'11 man staring like he wanted to rip their intestines straight from their body, but Marcus wasnt normal people. He just grins a big toothed smile and states matter-of-the-factly "you played like shit today."

Next thing he knows, he's smirking at Giannis eye to eye level now that Giannis has him slammed high up a wall, supporting his lower half with strong arms. Marcus's legs wrap around and his hands are already trying to claw marks into the other's skin, tearing at the jersey. Marcus digs into Giannis's back, as if it was the only latch he had onto life. He doesn't care that Giannis has to tighten the hold when he leans over to try and rip a bite into his carrier's neck, in fact, he Likes making Giannis struggle for it. For him.

So yeah, in short, they have locker room sex.

AS FOR LIKE.... just in general ideas of them doing redacted UHHHH

Marcus Definitely gives Giannis lapdances.

But he's got rules that are held in place with an iron fist. Sometimes he says that Giannis can't touch him or he'll have to bind Giannis down into a chair to keep him steady while Marcus Gets To Work. Of course, giannis laughs it off and promises that he won't lay a finger on Marcus. It's simple, all he's gonna do is just dance on his lap? He won't disturb that. Nothing bothers the Greek Freak.

So Marcus keeps him to his promise and climbs into his lap. And straddles him. And he does one long R o l l of his hips, right down where Giannis is feeling the hottest and

O h .

γαμήσω..

Giannis WANTS to keep his hands at his side, wants to keep them steady but Marcus's hips are Right there just Right There and his body is Right there and his bright smile is Right There and his cute freckled face is grinning Right There and he's so close and . Fuck he's so close. He's so fucking close-

Giannis whines and pleads and begs and gives his best puppy eyes. But Marcus holds him to his promise despite it all.

And then, to make Giannis squirm even more, the shirt comes off and Giannis can see just a Hint of a bare skinned hip peeking out from Marcus's pants and Oh Fuck. He's gotta. He's gotta.

Marcus is so slow with his dancing, planting kisses so sweet like he wasn't the one killing Giannis. Like he was playing unaware at what he was doing to Giannis. It was so hot and Marcus was Right there and it'd be so easy to. Just can he Please take off his pants? Both of them? Please? The underwear is constricting everything and it's so- he's so close. Fuck. He's so close. And-

Y e a h . So marcus gives Giannis lapdances.

In sex, they both kinda take turns teasing the other. Even when Giannis is smothering Marcus deep into the mattress with each thrust, Marcus always finds the energy to twist his head back and snicker at how concentrated Giannis is, how sweaty his face is. If Giannis tries to shut him up by sticking his fingers down his everyapping jaw, Marcus simply responds by biting. Still, Giannis takes it as a challenge and responds with his own quips, finding the most success during the aftercare when Marcus is too tired to retort.

After cleaning themselves off in the shower (and having a mini towel whip fight), they both cuddle under the covers. Marcus and Giannis both attempt to be the big spoon, usually ending up with their limbs tangled under the sheets. Giannis whispers about how much he liked seeing Marcus's eyes roll, about how cute his noises were. And Marcus just mutters for him to shut up and weakly hits him with a pillow.

AND FINALLY... just mini thoughts about them..

- giannis sometimes speaks Greek when he gets Really into sex. And he mumbles songs in Greek while he sleeps. Sometimes Marcus wakes up from a nightmare, stays up for a bit, but then hears the faint murmuring of an odd tune sang from his boyfriend's sleepy lips... and it lulls him back to rest.

- as much as giannis prides himself over being a Greek Freak, he's honestly not All that freaky. Just has a high sex drive, really. So does Marcus so their restless libidos work in tune.

- giannis likes pulling at Marcus's braids and trying to undo them. Marcus fucking kills him for it though LMFAO

- giannis does have a 'ring for blowjob' bell. Sometimes Marcus throws it at him if he's not feelin it JABDJAB

- giannis calls Marcus "stinky" in greek but says that it means "I love you" in greek

- giannis is still trying to introduce 'sexy roleplay' into the bedroom but it just ends up spiraling into two theater kids trying to act out their theater kid dreams

ANYWAYS... YEAH... they THEM. A very teasing kinda... unstoppable force vs unmovable rock KABDJSN UHHHH yeah! Those are my redacted marcus/giannis thoughts LMAO. I HOPE U LIKE IT LITTLE ANON!!

I WILL REBLOG THIS WITH CP3 CONTENT SOON!!!!!!!!!! busy rn so if this sounds insane it's because it is LMAO but YEAH. S o o n

#i feed my anons like feedinf baby birds #open up <3 #shoves useless marcus giannis ideas down ur throat IABDJS #marcus/giannis #russy west #ted asks #MANY MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT T H E M

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a-forgotten-spirit · 5 years ago

Text

Love Isn’t An Illusion (1)

Credit to Rightful Owners

Pairing: Todoroki x Bakugou, Todoroki x Reader x Bakugou VERY SLOW BUILD

Summary: Last competition at the sports festival

Words: +-6600

Warnings: Bad parents, mentions of a scary man, coughing up blood (Fake), UA sports festival violence, no friends, quiet kid, fear of failure, fainting.

Tags (I tagged the people who commented on my post if you wish to be untagged feel free to send an ask): @kittycatspervertedheart @lemorrite @gwendlynn @marleps @thicctati2 @saitamastamaticsoup @succulent-momma

A/N: I wrote this for the fans. I do not own My Hero academia or the characters, I don’t own most of the plot for this story, I had watched the show and re-written the dialogue and plot as if the reader was the main character. Everything is centred around the reader.

Masterlist ________________________________________________________________

Chapter 1

It was the last round of the sports festival, I had made it this far. Sneaking and compelling people to believe in things that weren’t there, to begin with. This was my chance to show off my quirk and let everyone know I deserved to be here. This was my chance to show the world I could be a hero. My class didn’t know my quirk and that was helpful in times of need, I must admit, I had been training and awaiting this day. The girls had gotten into those cheerleading uniforms that Momo had made, it was cute but when Present Mic announced they weren’t meant to be in them I had to stifle a laugh. The side games started and I was so glad I got in.

When drawing lots we all began to go to Midnight and I sighed out trying to calm myself as Ojiro put up his hand and said he wished to not compete, this only would happen three times in his life for this school and that’s if he made it into the third round the next year. He began to explain he didn’t remember anything and said he blamed the player he was with, the boy with purple hair and black under eyes. Toru just said he should go but he brought up this pride and then someone from 1-B did the same thing. Kirishima flushed about manliness and it was nice. Looking at the board I smiled, I earned my place here.

Kirishima vs Tetsutetsu Tokoyami vs Yaoyorozu Ashido vs Y/N Shinso vs Midoriya Todoroki vs Sero Uraraka vs Bakugou Iida vs Hatsume Kaminari vs Shiozaki

So I was versing Ashido first, that wouldn’t be hard. I went into a room and tried to calm myself down. I had to be ready for this, it would be a lot. I felt bad but I needed to win, this was what I was made for. I would win this. My fellow peers were doing their things while doing the other side challenges which was nice to watch when I came back from getting some food. I was worried about this but as I came to the stands to watch I smiled sitting down.

The first match was Deku and Shinso, this Shinso character seemed to be very skilled but also has scared some of his fellow peers and created that show about wanting to go be in 1-A. I had to watch everyone in case they advanced. Immediately Shinso began to talk about how stupid Ojiro was and Deku yelled but then he just stopped dead in his tracks. I turned seeing Ojiro stand and say he told Deku not to talk, Shinso’s quirk needed you to talk.

Present Mic began to yell about how Deku just stood not moving and then watching as Deku began to just walk out of bounds, what was going on. He wasn’t in control of himself, this quirk was far too powerful. But Shinos' quirk wasn’t physical so he had little to no chance in the practical exam, so this was something to remember. He deserved to be in the hero course but it was almost impossible for him to get in. But then Deku stopped walking and the wind blew across the stadium as he stopped just in time, how did he break the hold, it looked like he too was stunned. I had to pay attention to both of them now, both could make it to the next round. Deku ran as he tried to push Shinso out of the ring, Shinso punching and trying to win. I felt bad, if not responded he would lose and with one over the shoulder throw from Deku Shinso was out of bounds. I felt bad but this is how the games worked. Shinso looked mad, I would be too if I was him. People cheered and congratulated them both but as Shinso walked to the stands heroes were congratulating him and saying he could be a hero which was lovely to hear. In reality, he would make a very good hero, villains tended to be loudmouths.

Next match was Todoroki and Sero, Deku came back and joined his friends as I sat at the back of the group in silence. Present Mic introduced both of them and within seconds Sero had grabbed Todoroki with his tape and began to swing him around the boundaries but Todoroki’s foot came down to the ground and ice just erupted into the stadium, crawling around Sero and in front of the class, it was strong. Stronger than anyone here so far, that power was extraordinary. Midnight asked if Sero could move and it was obvious he couldn’t so with a simple answer Todoroki has ready won the match and it was over, Todoroki had won, with ease. This was crazy, I don’t think I could beat him if push came to shove but I would have to do it to win. Everyone in the stands was just calling out “Nice try” no one could beat him, melting the ice they walked from the boundaries.

Next was Kaminari and that plant girl, her voice soft and hair made of vines, she was going on about being a hero and I lost interest quite quickly. Present Mic apologised and I noticed Kaminari have to compose himself, it was sad to watch. Kaminari’s attack was nothing as her vines gripped him and held him in the air, she won. Impressive. That blonde began to yell at us, eyes wide and mouth open, he was quite annoying but the redhead with large fists took him away. I could hear Deku mumbling to himself as he wrote in that little book of his, I could hear him from the back of the stands.

The fourth match was Iida and Hatsume, the match was boring. She just wanted to show off her work and then gloat about it, her mic called out over the crowd, she wasn’t my favourite but then again Iida was trying his hardest. She was smart I’ll give her that but this was extremely annoying. She looked crazy. After showing them all off she simply stepped out of bounds. He seemed mad but then again she was getting what she wanted out of it. Only this time I wasn’t watching from the sidelines but the tv in the room, I was next up and this was my chance to show off my skills.

I walked out and stood still not moving and my face showed not a care in the world, I had to remain calm this was my chance. Present Mic introduced us “The silent scary one Y/LN Y/N from the hero course vs... is there some kind of purpose for those things sticking out of her head, from the same class Mina Ashido” she was stretching as I simply stood still not wanting to move, I needed to focus.

“This match is going to be a piece of cake” she smiled and pointed to my form cutely if only she knew what she was in for. I felt bad that she didn’t know my quirk and I knew hers but I had gotten in on recommendation thankfully otherwise I'd be in Shinso’s shoes. I didn’t respond to her. I knew her friends would be cheering her on but I couldn’t help but be saddened no one would be cheering for me.

Once the match began she slid along the ground by her acid, like ice skating. I stood still and I could see the confusion and peoples faces. I turned and looked to her, she was smiling and so happy to be here and in this match, she was confident. She was fast but not fast enough. Closing my eyes I opened them and she froze instantly. My quirk allowed me to create illusions that not only I could control but could do damage if I so wished, I preferred fears. Her fear was hard to determine, she had a few but creepy things seemed to fit. It went dark for her though I could still see in the real world, she fell to the floor clutching her arms in fear. The crowd went silent as she shook her head.

“Get away from me” she screamed and I made the creature try to swipe for her and tear up the ground, you could see the ground tear and then with a simple breath out she got up and began to run, this is what I wanted. She was running and fell, she was so scared. I could practically feel her heartbeat “I said get away from me” everyone had their fears, no one could beat me, I could win this all. A few more swipes and then she was out of bounds and I stopped the view. She looked around. That's all I needed to do.

“Ashido” Midnight called out and she looked around and then looked to me in fear and shook her head “Is out of bounds. Y/N will be moving to the next round” it was silent as Ashido looked out to me and shook her head. She couldn’t see or hear during an illusion or manifestation. She didn’t know what was going on. The crowd was silent as I began to walk back to the door, I came out of.

“She didn’t even move” “How did the ground tear up” “Ashido looked terrified” “That was unfair” “What even happened”

I heard a few people ask and then onto the next round. I could have shown them all, what Ashido was seeing but then my next opponents would know my strategy. I didn’t want to attend the next match, I went to a back room and sat down looking at the monitor. I hoped Ashido was ok though, I didn't mean to scare, or, I did. I just needed to win, I wanted to show off.

Tokoyami and Yaoyorozu, their quirks were very impressive and it was hard to try and figure out which would win but I had an idea. I had been studying everyone through my time at UA. Yaoyorozu questions herself which is something she cannot do in a match while Tokoyami relies on Dark Shadow. Once the match began Dark Shadow was pushing her and within seconds she was out of the boundaries, she stood there for a moment as Tokoyami just walked out. That was incredible. He barely moved, barely did anything.

Then came Tetsutetsu vs Kirishima. The match was long and very boring but cute in some sorta way. They had the same quirk, they fought with a lot of passion but I left the room to wait for my next match. Walking in I wasn’t expecting to see Iida, Deku and Uraraka standing in there. I should have thought ahead. Uraraka looked scared but the other two I think are trying to comfort her in a way.

“Oh hey Y/N” Uraraka spoke and the two others turned to me with questioning looks. I stepped back as she looked me over. Why was she looking me over?

I bowed “Sorry I didn’t know this room was in use” I quickly turned and tried to leave as fast as I could. I could hear them talk but I was walking away by then. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, Ashido I didn’t doubt had told people what she saw and I didn’t want to face anyone just yet. Going back into the viewing room I was grateful no one was there.

The next match was Uraraka vs Bakugou, no wonder she was scared. I would be, I wanted to root for her but Bakugou was so strong and dedicated to being a hero I didn’t doubt he’d pull out all the stops to win. I paid close attention as I may have to go against one of them in the future.

When the match began Uraraka just sprinted straight for him with no mercy, this was insane. With one swing of his hand, she was sent barreling into the side of the boundaries, smoke weaving around them. Bakugou did another hit through the smoke but it was her jacket, behind him. His reaction time was crazy turning and simply blasting her once more. This continued, she ran at him and then he exploded. I applauded her determination and Bakugou’s power. Bakugou was far too strong to be in the first year, this continued her running then Bakugou blasting her away. She wasn’t resting and her energy would soon run out. People were complaining and Eraserhead quickly shut them up with saying Bakugou knew she deserved to be here and wanted to show his power. I had to agree but Uraraka released her quirk, rocks falling from the sky, he tore up the floor. A very smart idea, as they fell to the stadium she ran with the rest of her strength though all he did was hold his arm and let out an ear ringing explosion. I could feel my room shake with the force. How was he that strong, that is insane. As the smoke cleared he was fine, not a single injury, untouched. She stood up but her body fell to the ground making Bakugou stop. This was crazy, her body was giving up on her, exhausted. Though I couldn’t blame her, she had been exploded endlessly. She was taken out and Bakugou won the match. Round one, done.

The first match of the second round was Midoriya vs Todoroki. This was sure to be interesting. I hadn’t gone back to my class not wanting to face them until the end of the festival. I wanted to show that I could do this but the look in people's eyes when Ashido lost was heartbreaking. I had to pay close attention to them both. Within seconds Todoroki had let off an ice attack but Deku was able to counter it at the cost of his finger. Doing it again he was now four fingers down, two from his last match. This was far too intense, he was hurting himself to have a chance at winning. Deku just continued to break his fingers, his quirk was very strange indeed. Why did his quirk hurt him so much, a quirk was a part of you though he seemed to reject him. One hand down and he was caught in ice only to use his whole hand. With ease, Todoroki got up and was ready to fight again. Did Todoroki have a limit to how much he could use? His ice power seemed to be limitless. Deku then began to talk to him, there was no volume to the tv, though I did notice the shake in Todorokis' arm, he was getting cold. That was his limitation though why didn’t he use his fire quirk. Todoroki was just running at him, he was slower though, Deku was able to land a hit, that was impressive in itself. They were using everything in their power to win, to show off their power. I was leaning close to the tv to watch them, they both had so much power I didn’t know if I could win against them he was using his body no matter how much it hurt him. Deku landed another hit to Todoroki. Deku landed another punch and Todoroki seemed out of it, he looked out of this world but he still got up. The sound was off but he had said something, why was no one stopping this. Todoroki just burst into flames, his firepower in use, what had Deku said to get him so riled up. No way Deku could win this. Would I have to fight him, there was no way I could win against that. When their power collides the building shook once more and I held the TV looking around desperately trying to see who won but as the smoke cleared then Deku just fell, Todoroki won. I wouldn’t have to fight him, right? There was not a chance in the world I could win against him. I leaned back in the chair and shook my head, there was not a chance I could win. He had to be afraid of something, right? Shiozaki vs Iida was over quickly in my opinion, Iida was far to fast for her to do anything but then it was my turn once again. As I walked out the crowd went silent and I looked to Tokoyami.

“Begin” Present Mic called out and I could hear the cheering for Tokoyami but none for me, this was incredibly disappointing. I wondered if my parents were watching this, were they proud of me.

Breathing out, I could win this, with ease. Once the match started he brought out dark Shadow, a powerful quirk I have to admit but not strong enough to beat my own. The sad thing was that he feared his quirk, my illusion turned the sky into a dark abyss that only Tokoyami could see, I kept Dark Shadow out of it, in case he did indeed think he had more power than he did. Creating another view for Tokoyami was that his friends were in danger they both left fighting me to try and fight their inner selves. Dark Shadow was brought into his host quickly, the darkness was only a ruse it was easy for him to do so but with the image of Dark Shadow trying to get out I made a patch of light appear and he began to run. Once there the darkness cleared and he was out of bounds. He turned to look at me then down at himself and his eyes widened as I bowed and turned on my heel.

“Look at that, she didn’t even move” Present Mic called out and I looked to the ground as I made my way into the hall I came from. “What is her quirk” he called out and I looked up as people viewed me, looking back down I could hear him finish “I wouldn’t want to fight her”

The yelling began again, they wanted to know what I was doing. Not yet, my next match was Iida who was far too smart for his good. I walked out of the stadium and made my way back to the room I was in, the back one, the one no one went into. Then came Bakugou vs Kirishima, Kirishima had won against his opponent via an arm wrestle. I was next this was news to me but not an issue at all.

Kirishima and Bakugou’s fight was long but very interesting indeed, Bakugou continued to counter, Kirishima had a limit to his quirk. Bakugou laid hit after hit on Kirishima and then he was gone, Kirishima was knocked out and Bakugou was ready to advance. I was versing Iida and then either Bakugou or Todoroki, at that thought I shivered. I would have to give my all, both of them seemed level headed but I could create anything. I could do this. My quirk was strong and hero material I could do this.

Standing up I began to make my way to the stadium once more, walking out I breathed and came to stand opposite Iida. “Your quirk is strong” he called out, he was fast. I would have to use my quirk immediately and possibly still dodge.

“As is yours” I stated and everyone went silent as did he. I didn’t talk in class and tried not to as much as I could, he wasn’t expecting a response and neither was the crowd. I stood still once again and nodded to Iida who nodded back. Closing my eyes I breathed in.

“Begin” Midnight called out and my eyes burst open to take over Iidas view as I jumped to the side to avoid him though that was all it took for him to stop and take a step back. He didn’t quite fear what I was showing him but he cared about people far too much.

“Y/N” I heard over the loudspeaker “This is too show your quirk, please let the crowd see what you are doing” I sighed, I didn’t want to show anyone before the final round. I could see both Todoroki and Bakugou viewing my fight “This is your teacher” with a simple huff I let everyone see what Iida was seeing.

I was coughing as he stopped and it looked like the people in the stands cheering. I fell to the ground and when I looked up blood was falling from my lips “Y/N” he called and ran over as it looks like Midnight did too, coming to stand next to me as I continued to cough up blood.

“You see her quirk is illusions that is like a manifestation. Iida was trying to ask if I was okay and the look on the crowd was disbelief. “She can make you see what she wants, though she plays on people’s fears or worries. Iida cares about people too much”

“Take her to recovery girl, you’re the fastest. Go now” I coughed again my hands coming to hold the blood “It is ok she will be looked after” Midnight called out as Iida picked me up and began to run out of bounds once he had reached that point I fell into ash in his hands and he stopped and I let the view go back to normal. He turned and saw me.

“It was a trick, it seemed so real” he whispered and I bowed to him. I felt bad, but I was forced to show off my quirk, it was something I had to do. If Aizawa hadn’t spoken I could have won and the boys wouldn’t know my quirk.

“Y/N advances to the next round” a loud and roaring cheer erupted and I smiled lightly, I could hear my name being called and people talking only this time it wasn’t negative or confusing but positive and congratulating.

“With a quirk like that, she could be offence and defence not to mention they can cause physical attacks” “I want her at my agency” “Her quirk could be used in any hero setting” “Strong and in control of the situation, hasn’t move except that small bit with all her fights”

I walked out feeling in control and ready for the next match. Going back to my room I got ready to watch Bakugou and Todoroki. I was going to be versing one of the two and at this point, I didn’t want either. They were both so strong and had seen my quirk they could try and get out of it but I could just hide. I could do this.

I was watching them so intensely, as they walked out into the stadium, I could feel my heart pound. I was going to have to face one of these people and now they both knew my quirk. They looked so in control and ready for a fight. When the fight started I leaned forward watching as Todoroki placed his hand on the ground ice erupting at lightning speed towards Bakugou, faster than with Deku. He’s recharged. Bakugou was fast though his hands moving as though it meant nothing to him, I could hear the explosions through the stadium, they were giving their all. Ice encircled him, was this the end of the match. Did Bakugou lose that quickly? The ice was at the top of the stadium, sharp and cold. I felt a shiver run down my back at the thought of versing the ice maker. Then came the rumbling, rhythmic and strong, what was this, it had to be Bakugou. An explosion rang out the ice exploding around the stadium and Todoroki jumped back, they were so strong. Watching Bakugous' hands gently lean on the ice, steam was created, within seconds they were barreling towards each other. I leaned forward my eyes wide, I couldn’t fight them. I was scared and I was nowhere near the fight. Bakugou was too fast making a quick move and grabbed Todoroki flipping him over, ice is what caught the other. They could both do close combat and distance, offence and defence. I should be doing a Deku and writing down everything I could. Todoroki surfing ice, Bakugou made another hit but Todoroki just threw him away, why wasn’t he using his fireside? He could potentially win if he did. Little explosions burst from the palms of Bakugou only then he was running at full force, who would win this. Todoroki just stood there, Bakugou jumped using his explosions and then began to twist, creating a tornado of sorts, fire stretched along the others arm, this was going to be big. The impact was made the stadium shaking as it had so many times that day, I couldn’t look away. Just like with Deku's’ fight I looked desperately trying to see who would still be standing after that. The smoke cleared and Bakugou laid on the floor, with Todoroki now sprawled over his ice, out of bounds. Bakugou ran and yelled but there was no sound I couldn’t hear it, what was he saying? Then he collapsed Midnight’s clothing ripped and producing her quirk. Once Bakugou was awake and ready I was going to fight him. I was going to have to fight Bakugou. What could I do against him?

Leaning back I looked over when Bakugou’s face was seen on the screen next to my own, saying “Final round” I was shaking. He would awake soon and I was already shaking. My hands began to sweat, what could I do against a powerhouse like Bakugou. This was far too intense for my body and mind to take. I moved to grab the water next to me and downed it in one go, trying to calm my nerves. Standing up I began to pace. What could I do too not only wow the spectators and agencies but win? He knew how my quirk worked now, I couldn’t do a single thing. No one could hear him when in one of my illusions and it would be a lot of energy to use everyone in the crowd and keep my body from being exploded in real life if I got injured the illusion might break. A few more side games and I was being called out, Bakugou was awake and angry from what I had heard.

Walking out to the stadium, I breathed a sigh and walked up the steps to see Bakugou, small explosions coming from his palms and I stood still looking over at him “I know how your damn quirk works, you can’t fool me” he yelled and the ground went silent waiting for me to respond.

Leaning to one side I smiled an illusion come next to him “Oh really” it whispered and he growled, a hand moving up his arm the illusion exploded within a second, I smiled “I think I'll do just fine Katsuki Bakugou” his eyebrow raised in question before he yelled in anger.

“The final match Katsuki Bakugou vs Y/N Y/LN. Begin” he yelled and I smiled as he began to run full speed towards my direction. I wanted this to be a show, a show for all to see. But he was faster than I expected within seconds I created a wall around my body, a physical illusion, he was stopped for the moment. Moving away I made an illusion of myself on the ground kneeling as an explosion went off and I was laying on the ground, quickly moving to get up as the wall fell into ash.

He followed that one. It was easy to fool him, too easy. By letting the audience see what was happening, all except one. Aizawa. He could prove I wasn’t cheating once my plan was complete. Bakugou followed my running figure. I made sure to make everything look as it did, even the TV’s showed the copies. I could only control inside the stadium so the people at home would be seeing me standing, that was ok.

“You won’t get away from me” he screamed and I created a wall around fake me, just too look like I was trying to get away faster, he exploded it. Perfect smoke. The smoke clouded his vision and I made the boundaries a little bit bigger. Not enough to notice and moved me to make it look normal once more. I may as well sit down for this match. No, I had to stay focused.

“I think I'm doing pretty well” the copy called out and he growled explosions going off as I created one behind him as my fake me disappeared, an illusion inside an illusion. I kept creating them, faster and faster as he exploded them then with a final one. Boundaries were a bit bigger, each hit. The original fake me then got too close and exploded, making them physical she was thrown back harshly all illusions falling to ash. I looked to be struggling, trying to get up as the copy held their arm in pain, the arm they landed on. It looked so real, I was getting good at this.

“Your physical body can still be harmed” he smirked and I did too the real me. He hadn’t landed a single hit on my form, he was too focused on destroying my copies to worry about the size of the boundaries, he was getting closer. I was thinking too much I didn’t notice him running. So with a fast duck and punch to his ribs, the copy sent him flying.

“You make it sound like I don’t know hand to hand combat” the copy smiled and then clutched their arm again, the arm began to shake, he took notice, good. He was up within a second running once more, hand to hand continued but with one big blow to the copy, she was sent flying through the air and landed with a thud, a loud and bone-cracking thud. The crowd yelled and cheered. Stay focused, everyone would know my power. I could win this. I had to stay focused. I was so close to him going out of bounds.

The copy tried to rise and fell once, then rose body swaying in not only exhaustion but pain. This was a hard illusion to keep up, a lot of changing and moving. I had to work harder, I was losing focus and my own body swayed. Shaking my head I looked back to them, Bakugou was smirking and walking slowly to the shaking figure. Now was the time, the copy looked around and then more copies appeared and the original disappeared.

“You won’t beat me” explosions so many explosions went off. I continued to make them, running at him. Flipping and disappearing before reappearing in different areas. Hit being made and then being exploded. I almost fell, this was a lot to take. I shook my head, clearing my thoughts and expanded the boundaries with each blow. Smoke clouding his vision. I look down at my real body, I was still in the boundaries, I was losing the sense of where I was. I needed him out of the boundaries. The original fake appeared on their knees and breathing heavily, then I noticed I was doing the same. This was a lot of energy to produce. Aizawa could see both the illusion and myself in reality. I stood up as did the copy though they held their arm.

“You and these damn illusions” he yelled and began to run, as did the copy trying desperately to make illusions to stop him. I was running on empty. I took the last bit of my energy to make a copy behind him that twirled in the air and sent a hard and powerful kick to his back. Sending him falling, his torso was out of bounds, the real ones. Immediately the illusion fell to ash as I swayed. Bakugou looked down as everyone was confused then saw me and it was silent. “It was all an illusion” he turned.

“Y/N made illusions inside illusions to make it seem like she was there though that whole match” Aizawa paused as did the crowd “she did not move” I could see everyone turn to my heavily breathing figure. Cheers and congratulations. “She allowed me to see but not the crowd to allow a sense of realism” another cheer but it was blurred in my ears.

“Bakugou is out of bounds. Y/N is the winner” Midnight called and I could hear the cheering murky and blur but I swayed. Bakugou turned and looked at me, he was angry but I watched his face softened as my eyes rolled back.

I could feel my body falling, I had gone far past my limit to win. I wanted to show everyone I could do this. To show even with a deceiving quirk I could still be a hero. I knew the cameras would see me just standing there so everyone would know how much effort it took to create such a show but within a second. My eyes rolled back and I fell, my body hitting the floor with a thud and I passed out. I used too much energy. Before all my senses faded I did see Bakugou running “Y/N” I heard the yell but I was gone.

I came too, I had been told I was out for about twenty minutes as my body regenerated. The award ceremony would be happening in the next ten minutes so I should get into position. I had also been told I was brought here by “My opponent with the spiking hair and angry look”, known as Bakugou. I had to thank him. I drank some water and devoured a protein bar.

I walked to the area here pillars of rock would move up to show the finalists and smiled seeing Todoroki and Bakugou there. “Hey” I called my voice small and my hand waved. Todoroki turned and smiled too, well it wasn't a smile more of a straight line, but more than a frown. I made my way up the steps and could hear Midnight calling to the crowd that the award ceremony would be complete in a matter of minutes. “Bakugou” he turned to me, face angry and arms crossed. “Thank you for a good fight and for taking me to the nurse”

“Whatever” he started and I nodded, I was trying to talk to make this a little less awkward. “I’ll just destroy you next year, I’ll get better and kill you” he yelled his head high and body tense. That was Bakugou. I could see Todorokis’ eyes roll in annoyance and I nodded.

“I look forward to facing you again” I smiled and then a copy of myself appeared behind him whispering in his ear “Bakugou” he turned and his arm went straight through the copy with an added string of curses. I couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Y/N,” Todoroki asked and I turned nodded for him to continue “Why did you say Bakugou’s full name when fighting him,” he asked, he had noticed that. I flushed lightly and swatted my hand quickly.

“Well it’s apart of my quirk” I started and Bakugou seemed interested now, his gaze turning from the now gone copy to my eyes. “I can make anyone see an illusion but only the physical ones work when I know someone’s name” I added and they both seemed very interested now.

“You need to know someone full name for the physical attacks to work” Bakugou questioned and I also noticed Todorokis’ mouth closed as I was guessing he was going to ask the same question as to his classmate.

“No I need to know a name, whether it be the first name, last name, nickname, a name they go by, hero or villain name. When I was recommended I tried it on Aizawa not knowing his first name or last name, still don’t know his first name but my quirk worked, he doesn’t know nor do any of the teachers, I tested this myself. I just need to put a name with a face and since I go to school with you both” I created copies to stand behind them whispering in time “I know your names” they turned and Bakugous’ yell rang out as Todoroki looked at the copy.

“Now the awards” the copies fell into ash before disappearing as the pillars were hoisted into the stadium, the three of us standing in silence as if nothing had happened between the three of us just moments before. The crowd cheered and replayed the best parts of the festival. I looked up and saw all mine were just me standing there though they did add in the one where I fell as Bakugou was fighting my copies, did they have to show that. “And who better than to give the awards” Midnight shouted as All Might came into view.

Jumping down and landing in front of us I waited for my turn. “Todoroki, you battled well” he continued to go on and they had a little conversation I didn’t pry into, I just wanted this to be over, I was tired and needed rest. I had to go home after this, I could show my parents my victory, I wonder if they watched it. “Bakugou my boy, you sure went hard” they didn’t care when I got into UA so would they care about this. “Y/N” I heard my name and looked up seeing All Might. “Still off in your little world I see, you fought hard and it was smart not showing your quirk to the stadium and allowing Aizawa to see that Bakugou did leave the boundaries. Strategic, you’ll make a great hero someday” placing the medal around my neck I smiled and nodded, bringing me in for a hug I couldn’t help but hug back “Now we just need to work on your stamina” I nodded and the ceremony was over.

I looked down at my medal and smiled, I won the sports festival, this was the best day of my life. I sat and watched this for so many years and now I was the winner. We were told our parents were picking us up after the festival and I could see people waiting. I watched as my mother rolled up and got out of the car I walked over.

“Mum did you see me” I held my medal proudly in my hand while it was still around my neck. I didn’t notice people looking “Mum I won. I won the sports festival” she walked past me and signed off that she was here to pick me up, when walking back I smiled “Mum I won” I repeated with a smile showing off my medal.

With a dramatic sigh and a lift of her brows and sunglasses, she looks to me, then down at the medal “Very nice dear, a medal. You participated, good for you” then she began to walk off. I could see the way people looked down or their parents looked to my own. This wasn’t the time or place to show my parental problems.

“Thank you Aizawa” I whispered and walked to the car, everything was silent. She thought it was a participation award after I had said I won. I had been waiting for this day since I first saw the sports festival and she didn’t even give me the decency to congratulate me. Getting in the car I closed the door and put my seatbelt on as we drove off. I didn’t miss the saddened faces of my peers. ________________________________________________________________ Chapter 2

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starculler · 5 years ago

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Awake (Alive)

Wrote this for the mini-challenge on the No Writing Academia Discord. Enjoy!!

Read on AO3

Oboro caught glimpses of a life no longer his to live.

A short man with a bushy mustache standing over him. Machinery attached to a suit, wreathed in shadow. A brat with a nasty attitude. A bar. Kids swallowed up by his own mist. A man with glowing red eyes, bleeding and unconscious.

(Familiar. Making his chest ache. Clawing at his insides with some feeling he couldn’t name.)

A blond, loudmouth hostage. Heroes and pain and

Sensei

Being strapped to a chair, his reflection his only companion but. But wrong. Different. He’d been— He was—

Purple mist and glowing, yellow eyes trailing faint lines of light with every tilt of his face —That was his face? — back and forth in the one-way mirror. It was wrong.

(It was right.)

And then. Moving. A new room. Faces and long stretches of time in between them. The lines blurring between him and him. Blue instead of purple. Skin instead of mist. A young, nearly-forgotten face where there had been mist only moments ago.

(Kurogiri, they called him but that wasn’t right. That wasn’t right. That wasn’t right.)

Things move, or don’t, like that for a while. He slips, fades a little more like he had in the early days. Tending the bar. Picking up after the brat. Sitting in the chair. Restrained. Unmoving. They ask questions Oboro doesn’t answer. Can’t answer.

(Kurogiri does. Sometimes.)

Then that face is back. That man. Red, glowing eyes wide. Desperate. Furious. His words demanding more than he can give. Kurogiri falters.

Oboro does not.

For a few seconds, he’s himself. He sees a flicker of his reflection – mist morphed to form a blurry impression of the face that once was his. He watches his mouth open. Watches his body push against the restraints tying him in place. Watches the man press his hand against the glass as he yells

“Fight it!”

Words struggle past his lips and it’s strange, numb and painless like his throat doesn’t even exist

(sharp and aching and strangled like every syllable he pushes past his lips is a knife sliding slowly up his throat)

He manages one. The most important one. And hopes it’s enough.

It is.

(It isn’t.)

It isn’t sleep he faces when he isn’t there. It isn’t some dark void or hell or any of the other things he didn’t spare a thought to in life. Between the moments he sees through Kurogiri’s eyes, there is simply nothing.

No time. No boredom to muster through. No thoughts to think.

Nothing.

An eternity and the blink of an eye all at once.

Oboro is gone the moment Kurogiri shorts out.

(There’s a switch being flipped. Something changes, then. Some boundary remains broken with no doctor and no Sensei to fix it. Kurogiri falters for the second time and Oboro—)

+ + +

The lights are harsh, bouncing off the bright tiles and whitewashed walls, and he can’t so much as move an arm to try and shield his eyes. He squints to relieve the pain, but it does little more than blur his vision. He doesn’t close his eyes, though. Doesn’t dare to because he can see his reflection in the mirror, opaque now instead of clear like before, flickering purple mist and narrowed, glowing eyes, and he knows.

It's an instinctual sort of knowledge more so than an actual, conscious realization, but it’s enough. It’s more than enough.

He wishes he could move. Stand. Walk. Pinch himself. Anything to make this moment feel more real. He wonders if this is a dream, but that’s wrong too. Dreams are for the living, and he’s fairly sure Kurogiri doesn’t even sleep, much less dream. If he’s Kurogiri now, will he be able to sleep or dream? Or is it a function of what they made him?

The thought, while not great, is better than focusing on any of the other hundreds of things buzzing through his head at the moment. And isn’t that a novel experience: thoughts. His thoughts, right there in his head.

It’s dizzying. Exhilarating. He wants to jump to his feet and cheer, overwhelmed with excitement. He wants to sink to his knees and throw up, maybe cry a little because he died. He died and became some villain’s experiment. A toy to be used up and thrown away.

His jaw ticks when he clenches it and the resulting pressure jolts him out of his head and back into the present. He does it again, and grins when the same pressure pushes up into his cheeks and out over his chin. He pushes his tongue up against the roof of his mouth just to feel the ridges and bumps in his palate and the edges of his teeth in his gums.

It’s exciting being able to feel things, though he wishes he could use his hands instead of exploring the inside of his mouth like he’s a teething toddler marveling at the changes. He opens his mouth, wanting to shout at the top of his lungs that he’s here. He’s alive. He’s—

He falters.

His reflection – Kurogiri’s reflection – doesn’t fully move with him. There is no imprint of his face in the mist. No mouth to move. There’s only the flat, blank canvas of his mist-shrouded face and twin glowing eyes, blown wide. He tilts Kurogiri’s head to one side and feels the first wave of disappointment crest and crash over him.

Still. Still, it isn’t so bad. He tries to convince himself, sucking in a breath of stale air and nodding resolutely at Kurogiri’s – his – reflection. He’s here. He’s alive – he wonders if he’ll ever get tired of turning those words over in his mind – and.

And what?

What can he do in a body that’s only marginally his, strapped to a chair in an empty room? He sags, falling forward as much as the restraints allow. He hangs there for a minute, wallowing in a quickly spiraling fit of self-pity, and then stops. He breathes in once through his teeth and forces his head up. Forces himself to look at his reflection in the glass, and glares.

He breathes out, long and slow. The mostly featureless face staring back at him barely moves. It’s okay, he tells himself. He repeats it a few times in his head and shapes the words with lips he can feel but can’t see. When he’s satisfied, briefly buoyed by his own attempts at talking himself up, he opens his mouth and speaks.

The words tear of out him, jagged sharp and just as painful as before, but he swallows down the pain and, as clearly as he can manage, says:

“My name is Shirakumo Oboro. Is anyone there?”

Pain sears his throat and he can hear what he thinks might be his pulse roaring in his ears. He swallows, trying to soothe the burn, but it does little more than make him wince. He curls his fingers into fists under the fabric wrapped around his arms and torso, gritting his teeth when his efforts at speech are rewarded with silence.

Fine.

He tries again. The same words. The same pain. He chokes on the last word this time, unable to stop his gasp when it spikes suddenly. His mouth tastes like copper, but there’s no rush of warm blood in his mouth. No liquid crawling up his throat to spill past his lips as he’s crushed under concrete he saw too late and—

His death rushes up to meet him, sending phantom signals of pain into limbs long-healed and leaving him dizzy and spitting bile and drool on the floor. He gags as shivers crawl up and down what he thinks is his spine. His vision flickers and he feels the cold, icy claws of panic grip his chest when he can’t tell if he’s closing his eyes or losing himself again.

He pushes against the restraints holding him up. Against the cloth keeping his arms pinned to his chest. He kicks and thrashes and tries, but nothing moves. Nothing can move. He’s trapped. Stuck to a chair. (Stuck under concrete.) In the light. (In the dark.) Dead. (Dying.) Alive.

Alive.

Alive. Alive. Alive

He’s alive but his throat’s burning. He doesn’t want to go again. Doesn’t want to live in moments anymore. Doesn’t want to hurt his friends. His friends. He hurt his friends—He did—He—

There are shapes in the room. Bodies reflected on the mirror. Faces in front of him. Hands on him. He struggles in vain. They talk but he can’t hear the words, and each one he grits out tastes like blood and ash and his dying breath rattling in his chest.

The world around him buzzes and dims. He doesn’t feel the prick of a needle or the cold sting of liquid slithering under his skin as it’s pushed through the syringe’s needle. He’s not even sure there is a syringe or a needle. Or a quirk. He knows the effect, though. The slow descent into darkness. The fall into the abyss. His name sticks to his throat, bouncing on the tip of his tongue, grating his throat as he tries it one last time.

He doesn’t know if it works. He doesn’t know if they know. He sees his face when he falls, an etching in the darkness. Kurogiri stands next to it. Next to him. Is him. The abyss flickers, and there is only him.

Them.

No one.

+ + +

Glowing, yellow eyes open to a blank, white ceiling and whitewashed walls on a simple, white bed with white sheets. The lights are harsh, bright fluorescent strips above him that hurt to look at. There’s nothing else in the room except a chair set a few feet from the bed and a tinted mirror set into the wall.

Two men, one old and short and the other wearing a brown trench coat, stand on the mirror’s other side. The elder one grips his cane, knuckles white, and scowls. The other’s brows pinch together as he presses his lips into a thin line. He waves his hand in the air, and static crackles through the room. When he opens his mouth, his voice filters through the speakers, loud and vaguely tinny.

“Shirakumo Oboro?” Silence greets the pair, so the man in the trench coat tries again. “That’s what you said, isn’t it? Your name?”

Misty hands drag across the bed, bracing against the mattress to push the vague outlines of a body up. The men tense. The old man’s feet shift, stance widening into something less frail and more solid. One misty finger prods at a clothed leg, feeling the mass of an intact limb underneath.

“Yes.”

“No.”

The words are garbled. Pained and insistent. Smooth and indifferent. Both mixing together into something almost incomprehensible. The men on the other side of the mirror jerk, surprise and suspicion marring their features.

“Which is it?” The man in the trench coat asks, uneasy.

Oboro stares at his face reflecting in the mirror, and Kurogiri stares back.

“Both,” they answer, and say nothing more.

#shirakumo #shirakumo oboro #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #my fanfic #//death mention #adding that just in case #i was gonna sit on this for another day but i'll drive my self crazy if i do lol #hopefully it's ok - it's a lot more experimental than my normal stuff

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dragons-bones · 4 years ago

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FFXIV Write Entry #28: Humiliations Galore

Prompt: irenic | Master Post | On AO3

This fill is partially in response to @ahlis-xiv‘s fill for ultracrepidarian, which you can read HERE! (And it goes without saying you should read her other fills and assorted writing, too!) The Ahlis mentioned herein, of course, belongs to her. \o/

Synnove felt her face twist into something foul and ugly and absolutely capable of curdling milk as she stared down at the letter on her desk. Halulu took one look at her and immediately fled back to the relative safety of her own office one floor down.

The envelope was fine vellum, waxed to protect its contents, tied with twine and the tie further sealed with wax. It was unremarkable, really, and appeared no different from any other important missive that Mealvaan’s Gate might receive from near and far.

Save for the seal of the University of Radz-at-Han pressed into the wax.

Synnove’s lip curled up in a sneer.

Mama, just open it, Galette sighed from her usual perch draped around her shoulders.

Synnove grimaced, but reached for the envelope and slid it closer to herself on the desk. She wedged her thumbnail beneath the wax seal and wiggled back and forth until it popped off, then slid the vellum from the twine and opened the flap. Reaching in, she pulled out two letters, folded over and individually sealed with different wax and stamps, at which she frowned.

And then raised her eyebrows as she noticed the thicker letter of the two, the one closed by deep red wax with a plain stamp, had writing in a very familiar hand on the outside.

READ THE OTHER ONE FIRST.

Now, what in the six hells was Thaisie Valeroyant up to?

Synnove stared with narrow, suspicious eyes at the letter from the Chair of the Department of Arcanima from the University of Radz-at-Han’s College of Mathematics, drumming her fingers on her desk for long moments as she mentally flicked through a list of possibilities. Finally, she let out a heavy sigh and scowled, snatching up the other letter, popping the wax seal, and unfolding it.

My dearest Mistress Greywolfe—

Synnove dropped the parchment, recoiling with a disgusted shriek. Galette HISSED, rising to a crouch as she bared her teeth and bristled her fur, tails lashing.

She knew that handwriting, knew that deep blue ink, knew that absolutely repulsive cologne that wafted into her face.

The first letter was in her hand in an instant, wax seal ripped off and parchment unfolded.

I promise, Synnove, the other letter is worth soiling your fingers and eyes.

Synnove ground her teeth, rage roiling through her, but she took a deep breath through her nose for a five count. Held it for another five count. Let it out with a final five count.

“Thaisie, you are going to owe me so much alcohol,” she muttered under her breath. She set down Thaisie’s letter and reached up to pet Galette, soothing them both for a few moments. Then, she picked up one of the half-sticks of graphite from the pile in the corner of her desk, and used it to poke the other letter flat, sneering as she did. Once that was done, she threw the graphite into her trash bin.

Finally, with a grimace, she leaned over her desk to read the letter from Bahram Zarir.

Synnove sat back after the first flowery paragraph and exchanged a confused look with Galette. “Did he actually…?”

I think so? Galette chittered, ears flat against her head.

They leaned forward again to read the next paragraph.

“…Ah. Never mind. He still, in fact, has his head shoved up his ass so far that the apple on his throat is actually his nose. Good gods, how as he gone this long without developing critical thinking skills, or the ability to remember what he wrote in a previous paragraph?”

She continued reading, occasionally muttering comments such as, “My gods, you absolutely disgusting piece of worm-ridden filth,” to which Galette snickered. Finally, she reached the end of the letter, and slid back into her chair.

And started giggling.

It evolved into a full body guffaw, rising from deep in her belly, and Synnove bent over as she howled with laughter, for so hard and so long it became silent heaving that shook her whole body. Galette sighed and rolled her eyes, holding on as her perch pitched to and fro. As Synnove finally calmed again, she brushed tears from her eyes.

“Oh, my gods, that was hilarious,” she wheezed. “Gods, I only hope I’m there on the day his hubris gets his sorry plagiarizing ass killed so I can laugh him all the way to the Hell of Water. What a cunt.”

Still chortling and catching her breath, Synnove carefully picked up Bahram Zarir’s letter with the very tip of her thumb and forefinger, and dumped it in the trash.

“Please remind me to get Ivar to burn that later,” she said, wiping her hand on her pants.

Yes, Mama!

Then, finally, she picked up Thaisie’s letter to read.

He really is such a prick, isn’t he? It’s a wonder he hasn’t become a victim of Thavnairian politics, but then he’s probably too thick to be a credible threat to any of his relatives or their myriad enemies. Just a shame we got stuck with him. I’m fairly certain the dean was dreaming about defenestrating him and a few other of the legacy children during the last open thesis read.

In any event, I thought you might enjoy the attached to make up for the toad’s sorry attempt at civility: a copy of the abstract for Master Zarir’s latest article. It’s still technically in peer review, but you’re a peer, as dirty as that no doubt makes you feel. Do what you will with this.

Also, yes, I know, I owe you alcohol. I already have a nice bottle of arak picked out for the next time Thubyrgeim allows you off your leash, or I’m able to attend a Lominsan conference.

Kisses!

Thaisie

“You’re such an asshole, Thaisie,” Synnove said fondly, shuffling the parchment to the second page. Zarir’s greatest weakness as a researcher was that frequently, he did have original ideas…but was frankly terrible at the execution and he outright stole others’ work in bits and pieces and tried to make a whole from it that fell apart if one breathed on it too hard. So, what trash was he on about now?

She read the abstract once. Blinked. Read it again, slower this time, than gave it a third pass.

Synnove set the parchment down flat on her desk, mind racing.

Zarir’s article was in peer review, and therefore it wasn’t public knowledge or in open circulation; the only individuals with copies would be Zarir, the reviewers, and Thaisie. He wouldn’t be able to add anything, with how the University handled its legacies’ attempts at academia, the peer review was mostly for show and the article would be published in the latest issue of their mathematics journal. There would be no turnaround time for Zarir.

And there was no way for anyone else to possibly know what he was publishing. Further, it was incredibly common for academics to hit on similar ideas and develop them in parallel without knowing until the other was published.

Zarir’s idea was similar to that of someone else’s here at the Gate. Oh, not hugely similar, but enough for the mainstays in the field to have a solid guess of which articles either had been reading and drawing inspiration from. But Ahlis had gone off in a completely different direction and what was more, her math was sound, the research actually done rather than theorized, and with a high chance of her succeeding and creating a new breakthrough in arcanima. And Ahlis’s work was ready for presentation at the upcoming research symposium. At which a few of the Hannish—not Zarir, if only because the dean didn’t want to deal with the political fallout of letting him set foot in Limsa Lominsa and the resulting murder—from the University would be attending.

Synnove smiled, slow and deliberate and sharklike, a dark chuckle rising in her throat, as she reached for a piece of fresh parchment and a graphite stick. She was quite thankful now that she hadn’t replied to Ahlis’s note just yet.

Ahlis,

I think you are more than ready! You’ve done your due diligence, even surpassed it, in laying your foundation. I still cannot find flaws in the theorems and equations you’ve laid out—your mathematics might need the occasional proofing, but your grasp of the principles is superb, and we’ve all needed a second set of eyes on our work when we’ve looked at the numbers for too long.

You are an excellent arcanist, Ahlis. As intimidating as it is to present research, the symposium presents a wonderful opportunity to receive feedback and collaborate on further avenues to explore your hypothesis. And, if word on the grapevine is true, I have no doubt your work will be leaving certain members of our community absolutely green with envy.

Give ‘em hell!

-Synnove

She signed with a flourish and folded the letter into neat thirds, wrote Ahlis’s name on it, and bound it with some of the leftover twine from Thaisie’s packet. “Amandina, Roksana,” she called out as she tied off the string, “would you like to run an errand for me?”

The twins poked their heads over the edge of their basket, the picture book they had been carefully pawing through forgotten. Their ears stood straight up, noses twitching in excitement—and then they were tumbling out of the basket and darting right for Synnove’s desk. Oh oh oh yes yes yes! they peeped excitedly. Errand errand errand we can do it!

The carbunclets skidded to a halt at their mama’s feet and looked up at her with huge eyes, their mass of tails shaking with excitement. Galette huffed, exasperated as always with their endless amounts of energy, but didn’t otherwise say anything as Synnove leaned over with the letter in hand.

“Do you remember where the Gate’s mailroom is?” she said, solemn.

Yeah!

The arcanist held out the letter, and Amandina very carefully accepted it, clamping down with her teeth to hold it firmly.

“Bring this down to the mailroom,” Synnove said, “and give it to Coster, and only Coster. He’ll make sure it’s delivered to its intended recipient! And then, once you’re done, come right back here, all right?”

Okay, Mommy! warbled Amandina, a determined set to her face.

We’ll be right back! said Roksana with a peppy chirp.

Then, rather than turn and trundle towards the door to her office, as Synnove thought they would, Roksana took one of Amandina’s ears into her mouth, and with a pop! of displaced air they were…gone.

Dead silence, as arcanist and carbuncle both stared, jaws hanging open, at the space the twins had been in just a few moments before.

“When did they learn to do that?” Synnove said, faint and bewildered.

I dunno. Galette tilted her head. Can I learn how to do that?

“Absolutely not, you’ll use it to break into the coldbox for my pies.”

Galette slumped into a full body sulk.

#ffxivwrite2020 #final fantasy xiv #oc: synnove greywolfe #synnove's carbuncles #other people's characters #ahlis ildilayan #dt's writing

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dark-mnjiro · 5 years ago

Text

it’s hard to breathe [but that’s alright]

Rated: Explicit (mostly for language, violence, and sexual situations in later chatpers - just far warning and yes it’s multichapter)

Author’s Note: This is my first first fic for My Hero Academia. I apologize in advance if it’s terrible. It’s been a while since I really forced myself to write anything for any type of fandom. I hope you enjoy! Maybe i this does well enough, I can move toward doing reader fics and such again. It’s been a long time since I’ve written - ugh.

Part One

Her eyes scanned the darkening skyline of the city from her position on the roof of the tallest building on the street. This seemed like the perfect place to set up her gear and wait for her target to arrive. She reached around to the sniper rifle hitched onto her back before leaning the gun against the ledge as she set up her stand first.

A small alarm sounded causing her to glance down at the small wristwatch she wore. “Five minutes,” she mused, praying her informants were correct in the location of her target. Pressing a button to silence the disturbance, she reset the timer for another five minutes before grabbing her sniper rifle and placing the gun into the stand.

Laying down, she adjusted her position to line up the sight of the sniper toward the street. Her target would be crossing her sights soon. She lifted the black eye patch that covered her right eye revealing the iris of her eye glowed a hazy violet as she activated her own special quirk, which allowed her to see long distances for precision shots with a sniper rifle.

She raked her fingers through her navy colored hair to push some remaining stray strands out of her face. Her index finger gently curled around the trigger as she took a small inhale of breath in, her vision focusing on the street below…

The alarm on her watch sounded again.

An explosion took place in a building down below.

“There,” she said sharply, as her focus moved to a couple of villains escaping from a building with items in tow, clearly stolen as to what… she couldn’t be bothered to ask her superiors at the government. She only knew - they were planning to steal very important supplies from a government agency.

“Exhale…” she sighed as she let out the breath she was holding before three shots rang out.

Within seconds, the three were dead on the sidewalk.

Sitting up, her hand came up to wipe the sweat from her brow before lowering her eyepatch back over her eye as the color shifted back to its original grey color.

“Another beautiful display, Miyako.”

Glancing over her shoulder, Miyako found her boss from the government standing behind her along with…

“Principal Nezu?” she asked, tilting her head at the small white creature.

Nezu smiled as he approached her with his arms crossed. “It’s been a while,” he mused as he looked over her sniper rifle.

“Yes sir…”

“Still a gifted shot,” he continued to muse as he came closer. “I must ask a favor. I know you’re a valuable asset to the government in taking down terrorists Miyako… and I can understand that it pays well.”

“It’s not as glamorous as a famed hero life but it does pay well,” she replied as she slowly placed her rifle back on the hitch on her back

Nezu nodded as she continued to break down the stand before tucking the gear away in her bag for safekeeping. “We’ve been having problems recently with villain activity at UA-“

“I’ve watched the news,” she replied shrugging.

“I spoke with your boss and he’s agreed to offer your services in order to stop the league of villains from attacking our students again… particularly one student.”

“The league you say?” She asked, her lips curling into a grin. “Sounds like a challenge… and what would the league want with a fifteen-year-old?”

“Would it interest you if this child was to become All Might’s successor?”

“...I’m listening.”

Nezu smiled at the sniper before handing her a picture. “This would be your target to stop entering the school at all costs,” he explained as her gaze studied the picture.

A male… dark hair… blue eyes… scar tissue… He would not be difficult to spot in a crowd, especially on school grounds. The scars especially would make him obvious in public along with his bizarre choice of piercings on his face and body. Not a great way to blend into a crowd, unless that was the point… easy enough, Miyako thought. How hard could it be keeping a bunch of kids safe.

“Name?” Miyako asked, glancing back up at Nezu.

“Not much is known… just that he goes by the name Dabi. He has a quirk where he is able to control blue flames. He’s considered fairly high up-“

“Consider me interested,” Miyako said, tucking the picture away in her bag. “Lethal force?”

Nezu sighed. “If necessary, yes. Just protect the students and we will reward you.”

Miyako gave him another smile before extending out her hand to him. “Deal,” she said before shaking the principal’s paw in agreement.

——

“...this wasn’t part of the deal,” Miyako said flatly as she crossed her arms over her chest. In order to not look suspicious on school grounds, Nezu had suggested that Miyako pose as a teacher - while the cover was a good idea she had no idea that he was actually going to push her to sit in on classes. “You’re expecting me to babysit a bunch of brats in a classroom…?”

Principal Nezu merely grinned in response as he looked around the room where the other faculty had gathered around the table. “This is perfect!” he said happily, clapping his paws together. “You’re not nearly as famous as All Might so no one will question your status as a teacher here!”

“...but I’m not a teacher-“

“It’s settled!”

Frustrated, Miyako rubbed her temples feeling as though she had somehow been fooled into this… god, damn it Nezu…

“Miyako would you like a tour-“

“...I’m going to do rounds…”

She quickly made her escape out of the conference room before disappearing into the hallway. She took note how high she was from this level, in case she would ever have to take a shot from this height. “Pretty high and this is only about mid-level,” she commented to herself as she began to hear teenagers beginning to flood the hallways. Classes had obviously let out for the afternoon. “Time to take my leave…” she muttered before slipping into a stairwell and heading to the roof of the school.

A small sigh escaped her lips as she closed her eyes trying to enjoy the peace and quiet of the outdoors. She slowly lifted up her eyepatch, rubbing her eye as irritation had begun to set in from wearing the fabric over her eye… while she should be used to the patch by now, she still found it annoying. Too bad it was a necessary evil, otherwise she would suffer severe fatigue in her right eye and had been warned with possible blindness had Miyako continued to use her quirk without any sort of resting period in between uses.

Miyako began muttering numbers and calculations under her breath as she used her eye to attempt to measure the distance from her point to the ground. Each shot would be difficult, but possible if she were careful and precise. She brought her thumb to her lips as she began to nibble on her nail still going over the calculations in her head, a nervous habit she had developed over the years especially while she was lost in her own thoughts. “If I aim right here…” she murmured, as she moved around the roof. “Bullet drag would slow my shots down and could pose possible rogue shots toward students depending on wind speed, but the property is open enough so I wouldn’t have too many obstacles… assuming these kids listen and stay out of the way.”

Loud shouts and playful screams echoed from below her as she glanced over the edge to see UA students clearing out of school for the day. While she had heard there had been several strange occurances of villains crossing young students recently, she wondered which student was particularly important to the school.

“Interesting,” she mused to herself as she watched the students talking below her. “I wonder which one All Might has taken such an interest in…” She could not see each students’ quirk from this altitude so perhaps sitting in a few of the hero course classes, she could see for herself. Maybe it wouldn’t be as boring as she was dreading it to be… one could only hope.

Leaning against the railing, her eyes followed a particular group of students, one she could swear she heard shouting from her height. Was he always this angry, she wondered. The smaller student seemed to cower, fearful of the more aggressive one, while another student among them was nearly silent - almost stoic for a fifteen-year-old.

“Is that?” She wondered, squinting her eyes more as she swore she recognized that split red and white hair. “Todoroki Shouto…” Her lips curled up in a gentle smile. “It’s been so long. I hadn’t realized he was old enough to be a student here now.”

Her gaze softened at the teenager as she recalled sometimes coming over to the house when she herself was younger to hang out among her friends… one of which was his brother, Touya. Her expression saddened as she was reminded of his untimely death once again - also wondering how Shouto had grown since she had last seen him.

“Shit time flies,” she mumbled to herself. “He’s already a teenager. He probably doesn’t even remember me. He was so young then. Not to mention his dad never did let him join us in games. Always training...” Her voice trailed off as she watched the teenagers disappear from view.

Shaking her head, Miyako pulled herself away from the railing before placing her hands behind her head. With the students gone, there was no need for her stick around into the evening, she convinced herself as she headed back into the stairwell making her way back down. “Time for a break…”

—

“At least the day is over,” Miyako groaned as she laid her forehead against the bar counter while she waited for her drink to be made. The place seemed full, she assumed due to the approaching weekend and typical Friday night office workers gathering to celebrate a long work week. A drink was set down in front of as she lifted her head up just enough to see the bartender whom she had known for years now.

He tilted his head at her. “Long day?”

“Do you know how much I hate kids…?”

Chuckling, he shook his head before moving further down the bar to tend to another few patrons. Miyako sat up, taking a large gulp of her drink before setting the glass back down. The warm liquid burned down the back of her throat before settling into her stomach. She tilted the glass, swirling the remaining liquid around. At least she had a plan for where she could set up shots around the property. It was just a matter of if and when this specific person would show up at the school.

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the picture of her target, eyes narrowing as she tried to imprint the image to her mind. He didn’t seem like much, but the mention of his quirk seemed what was most threatening especially to students, and if the league had grown interested in a student or two - they wouldn’t just send pushovers.

“Blue flames?” she asked herself, tilting her head a bit. Thoughts began to bounce around in the walls of her mind, wondering if perhaps there was someone out there able to control fire like the Todoroki family. But blue flames? She rubbed her eyepatch that covered her right eye in frustration. Blue fire was considered the hottest type of fire, next to a white hot flame. “I wondered,” she whispered, noting the scarred tissue all over his body. “His body can’t handle over exposure clearly–”

“How interesting…”

A male voice drawled from behind her as she turned to glance over her shoulder at the stranger to see no one but random bar patrons passing by behind her. Confusion set in before she could react, “You should learn not to speak about your targets out loud.”

Her stomach fell to her feet as she turned back to the bar to find the picture she had been given was slowly burning to ash…

“Blue flames,” she hissed before looking toward the bar stool next to her.

It was him.

Her gaze locked with his flashing orbs of sapphire before her gaze narrowed. “You…” she hissed.

It was Dabi.

A smirk curled over his lips before he raised a finger to wag at her playfully. “Ah ah ah,” he tutted, his eyes falling to her hand moving to touch the top of her handgun. “You wouldn’t want to make such a scene with all these civilians would you?”

Shit, he was right. Her hand relaxed before moving away from the small holster on her hip. “What do you want then?” she countered.

“I heard I had a target on my back,” he replied airly. “Wanted to see who they thought could possibly get rid of me.”

“Says the one making a scene by setting a picture on fire,” she hissed to him.

His eyes moved to the patrons around the bar now staring at the two and the now pile of ash sitting on the bar counter. Shrugging his shoulders, he moved away from her side. “We can always continue this later kitten…”

“What did you just call me—?!” Miyako hissed offense dripping from her voice, whipping around to attack but finding he had just disappeared. “Damn it…”

Jumping to her feet, Miyako reached into her pocket before throwing cash into the table for the bartender to cover for her drink and whatever expenses to fix his bar. She rushed outside, head darting in every direction trying to gauge just where Dabi had disappeared. She cursed under her breath before darting into an alley, seeing a fire escape with roof access. Better view for her quirk. Her hand grabbed the railing before she was slammed against the wall. A low groan fell from her lips as pain shot up her spine.

“Nice try, kitten,” Dabi’s voice whispered into her ear. Her gaze moved up to meet piercing blue eyes staring back at her, while he used his body weight to keep her still against the brick wall before his hand moved to grasp her wrist as she tried to move for her pistol again. “Good attempt,” he added, moving the wrist over her head. “But unfortunately, I think I know all your little moves.” His opposite hand moved to brush against her eye patch before tilting his head at her. “Hiding your quirk must mean it exhausts you after prolonged use…”

“Let. Go,” she snapped at him, struggling against his grip.

“Not yet,” he commented airly as he started moving her eye patch up. “I want to see what this looks like…”

Miyako managed to move her free hand while he was distracted. Her right eye, once exposed, turned the hazy violet color before she managed to pull a small knife from her hip immediately lodging it into his shoulder. His grip loosened before his hand moved to cover his wound as blood poured over his arm and she quickly found herself free again. She quickly grabbed her pistol, using her quirk to line up a perfect shot.

His eyes moved up to stare into her own, his smirk widening a bit more. “Well this is fun,” he whispered. “Who knew you were that sneaky…?”

“None of this is fun,” she snapped back at him. “It was your own mistake. You allowed my other arm to be free.”

“No? You’ll break my heart with words like that…”

Miyako cocked the small pistol before her index finger tightened around the trigger. She took a small breath inward…

“What the fuck?!”

A blue flame immediately enveloped her gun and palm. The sheer intensity of the pain caused her to drop the small handgun. She managed to put the flame out on her hand, but the pain… it was unbearable.

“Oh kitten,” he said, almost playfully. “Did you really think I wouldn’t fight back?”

Holding her hand close to her chest, she felt nothing but white hot pain searing through her every nerve at this point. “You melted my gun!” she shouted back at him.

“And hurt your hand by the looks of it,” he commented, shrugging his shoulders.

He was right. She winced lightly, still clutching her injured hand to her chest. Her skin felt as though it were tightening and blistering already - she would for sure have to visit Recovery Girl to make sure nothing serious would come from her injury.

“And you’re still bleeding,” she hissed back at him, her gaze narrowing at the wound she had left with her blade.

His smile faded for a moment while his blue eyes gazed up at her, causing her body to almost freeze from the piercing gaze itself. The corners of his thin lips curled up into a coy smirk before he took a few steps toward her again, shrinking the distance between them to just a foot. “Well,” he whispered, his eyes darting around her face almost searching for something in her pained expression. “You are correct… you have wounded me…” His tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth before running it along his lower lip. “Consider this a draw kitten…Until next time Tsutsumi Miyako.”

Confusion filled Miyako’s eyes, realizing that she had never mentioned her actual name to him and for that, what did he even mean until next time? “What?” she shouted. “Wait a minute!”

Another burst of blue flames sent her back into the wall as she used her arms to shield her eyes from the sheer heat. Once the flames had died down, she lowered her arms, finding that Dabi had once again disappeared. A sigh of relief fell from her lips, realizing she had managed to make it out of such a sticky situation with only seemingly minor injuries. Her fingers moved along the singed flesh of her arms, checking the severity of the burns she felt blistering already.

“God damn it,” she hissed to herself, flexing her injured hand before rushing off to the school to visit with Recovery Girl.

---

Wincing, Miyako watched as Recovery Girl placed a special salve after having used her Quirk to heal the majority of the burns. The cooling effect of the salve immediately took effect, causing Miyako’s body to finally relax as she slowly began wrapping bandages around the burns. “How long until this fully heals?” she asked, quietly.

Recovery Girl sighed before looking up at Miyako. “Just a few days,” she explained, crossing her arms once she had finished wrapping the wounds. “These were some fairly serious burns Miyako… what trouble did you get into?”

“Part of the job, I suppose,” Miyako explained, her eyes falling to the floor. “Thought I was about to apprehend the target for the school but…”

Shaking her head, Recovery Girl sat back in her chair. “Promise me you’re going to be careful?” She asked. “These burns were serious… what type of quirk did you fight against.”

“He has blue flames, kind of like Endeavor.”

“Miyako…”

Looking up to meet the judgemental look flashing in Recovery Girl’s eyes, Miyako sighed as she leaned back in her chair. “He’s trying to hurt the students here and he needs to be eliminated. Quickly. I have to take every opportunity to attack. He’s quick but I injured him as well. A few burns won’t slow me down - you know that.”

“...unfortunately I do know that…”

“Come on,” Miyako whined before standing up. “You know I’m always careful in each one of my assassination missions. But getting hurt isn’t completely unavoidable. I’m smart. I’ll figure it out. He just managed to corner me because I got too confident rushing into an alley before checking perimeters.”

“I know but—”

“I’ll see you later,” Miyako said, cutting off Recovery Girl before rushing out of the office trying to avoid another lecture in being “too reckless” even when it had been a one time occurance. Miyako rubbed her eyes as she made her way out of the school and toward her apartment building, needing to take a few days of rest before trying to stake out Dabi again.

“Jackass,” she hissed under her breath as she shoved her bandaged hand into her pocket to fish out her apartment keys. Sighing, she slipped inside the dark apartment before cutting on the lights and shutting the door behind her. She tossed her keys onto the counter, making her way toward the couch before collapsing face first into the plush cushions.

Her hand moved to the coffee table, pawing around aimlessly for the remote before managing to turn the television on for background noise. Slowly, she pushed herself back up as she forced herself to go into her bedroom and change out of her uniform and other gear, and into a black nightgown with a white silk robe over it.

Miyako walked to another closet in the bedroom before opening the door where she placed her sniper rifle inside. She pulled open a drawer before setting the extra ammo away into neat rows with her knives displayed carefully next to it. She closed the drawer before shutting the closet and placing the lock over the handles to keep her weapons secure.

Walking back into the living room, Miyako stopped in front of her television before gazing out the back sliding door that led out to her small balcony. While she wasn’t a “pro hero”, her government job paid well enough that she lived comfortably and happily. The moon gleamed into her apartment, making her smile at the quiet calmness that surrounded her before something shining in the moonlight caught her attention.

“What the hell…” she mumbled, before sliding open the glass door. A few drops of blood splattered on her balcony floor, leading toward the chair she had placed there for her own leisure. Her eyes widened when her gaze stopped to find the knife she had used to injure Dabi now sitting in the chair covered in spots of dried blood.

“How…” she mused before grabbing the knife retreating back inside her apartment, locking the door behind her. Nervously, she nibbled on her lower lip as she walked the knife to her kitchen, tossing it into the sink to wash later. “How did—”

Oh no.

“There’s no way,” she snapped as she walked toward the door and looked around. “He couldn’t have followed me the prick! I would’ve noticed!”

Miyako looked at the small droplets of blood he had left and noticed there were none inside the apartment, which means he somehow got to her third floor apartment from outside… She lifted her eye patch to better gauge the different angles seeing one side of the ledge seemed to have bloodstains… “He came and left from that side but how did he get up here? Unless someone within his group has a quirk that could get him to this level - which is possible...” she questioned, tapping her index finger to her chin. “But, why? He clearly wasn’t trying to surprise attack… he would’ve forced his way inside… and not left my knife free for the taking… unless this is some sick psychological game…”

She paused as she glanced back at the sink where the dirty knife laid. Her guess had to be right… he was just letting her know that he knew where she was, that he could just appear any time of the day or night… But at the same time, why bother returning one of her weapons?

Her mind returned to the earlier encounter she had with Dabi, recalling a comment he had made about her being “fun”. A small sigh escaped her lips as her mind pondered the possibility that maybe for him, that her challenge was more than welcomed by him, that he enjoyed her fight. Perhaps this was his way of showing her that he couldn’t wait for another round?

“What a bizarre man,” she mumbled. “But who am I to try to make sense of villains intentions and MOs. It never makes any sense.” She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration as she made her way to her bedroom. She slipped off the silk robe before tossing it onto a nearby chair as she laid down in her bed. She pulled the sheets and comforter up to her chin as she settled in for a good night’s sleep - or so she hoped.

Meanwhile, outside her apartment complex, Dabi looked up at the balcony having watched her step outside and find his little gift for her.The blood from his shoulder had begun to slow after receiving quick first aid from another league member, but knew he would have to take time to heal and regroup. The corners of his lips curled up into a smirk as he stuffed his hands into his trench coat pockets before turning away.

“Hopefully you enjoyed your little gift,” he said to himself, slipping into a dark alleyway, making his way back to the League’s headquarters. “Can’t wait to play again, kitten…”

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fanfictionaries · 5 years ago

Text

Love and Academia Ch. 8 - Texting and Treats

Pairing: AU Professor!Bucky x OFC

Warnings: Swearing, smut, NSFW/18+ only, mentions of death/violence/suicide, Angst

Author’s note: Flirting? FLIRTING? That is all.

And as always, I do not currently have a beta reader so please excuse any larger issues. It’s just little ol’ me!

***

One month. One month was all it took for the weather to turn and with it, Emily’s brain to mush. She was tired of staring at spreadsheets. Tired of Excel formulas and mapping software. Tired of literary research. And most importantly, tired of having to see Dr. Barnes’ face. To be fair, things were undeniably better than they had been the first few weeks of the semester. It was honestly a relief not having to act so cold towards him. It left room for more productive things like revisions, classes, and figuring out what the heck was going on with her advisor and his wife. Despite her best efforts, Emily had found herself consumed by the mystery that was Dr. James Buchanan Barnes’ love life.

“Now when we think about the different kinds of life cycles that organisms have, we usually think primarily of the gametic life cycle,” said the man in question from his place at the front of the classroom.

Emily sat in the right most seat, in the front row of the lecture hall casually listening. While this was all information she learned years ago, it was encouraged that teaching assistants attended the lectures that coincided with the labs they taught. That way they could match the content effectively. Glancing around the room, she wanted to laugh at the number of young, freshman girls sat in the front. They probably thought they hit the jackpot. First semester of college and they had possibly the hottest professor they would ever encounter. Emily thought back to her own professors during her time at Montana State. Every last one of them was over fifty and balding. Definitely not something to fantasize about.

“The gametic life cycle is the life cycle of most animals. However, there is also the sporic and zygotic life cycles.” Dr. Barnes turned to write the three life cycle names on the chalk board behind him. Emily’s eyes wandered to his broad shoulders encased by a green flannel shirt tucked into a pair of khaki pants that hugged his perfectly sculpted behind. No. She couldn’t think like that. He was married. This she could not deny by the wedding ring he kept so obviously on his left hand. But hadn’t he pretty much told her that his wife didn’t live with him? Just him and Trixie in that big house.

Trixie. God. She felt so stupid when she found out that Trixie was his dog and not his wife. If she had let herself focus on the moment for any longer than a second, she might come to the conclusion that jealousy had fueled the embarrassment. She expected him to be on a date with his loving wife. Not spending the night walking his dog and coming home to an empty house. But that was not the case. Instead, she chose to conclude that the embarrassment stemmed from the fact that she had made any assumption in the first place. No one liked to be wrong. Right?

Still, none of that answered her burning question. Where was Dr. Barnes’ wife? She had a few theories. Perhaps she hadn’t moved from Brooklyn yet. He had just moved into the area. Couples would move separately sometimes. One moving first and the other coming later when their job allowed. But if that were the case, then why did he look so sad when he mentioned being alone?

“Can anyone tell me what kind of organisms experience a zygotic life cycle?” Dr. Barnes asked, turning back to the class. A plethora of eager hands shot straight up in the air. Smiling in amusement, he called on one of the girls from the front row.

“Yes, Miss Hendrickson.”

“Is it plants, like mosses?” the young girl answered. Emily wanted to laugh. Clearly, she hadn’t done the reading and only raised her hand at the opportunity for Dr. Barnes to call on her.

Maybe he had been sad because he’s a good husband who loves his wife and misses her. Well, if that were true, then he wouldn’t have taken off his wedding ring and almost hooked up with her. Emily’s mind wandered to that night, as it often did. The cool brick digging into her back as he devoured her. The stubble of his beard so deliciously rough. The strength of his hands as he gripped her body tightly.

“Miss Colvert, would you like to enlighten the rest of the class?”

“Huh?” Emily broke from her momentary fantasy to see all eyes on her. Dr. Barnes liked to do this. When no one else knew the answer, he’d call on her. It was like a little test on her basic knowledge of biological concepts.

“It appears no one knows what has a zygotic life cycle. Would you like to give us the answer?” Dr. Barnes elaborated, looking at her expectantly.

“Oh, um. That would be fungi and protists. They’re haploid most of their life cycle and the zygote is the only diploid phase before it undergoes meiosis to produce haploid cells.”

“Very good Miss Colvert—” he smiled at her, a brief flash of brilliantly white teeth “—Now, let’s go ahead and draw out the zygotic life cycle to give everyone a better idea.” Dr. Barnes turned once again towards the board as he continued on with the lecture.

There was always the harsh fact that Dr. Barnes had in fact stopped things that night before they went too far. Maybe he regretted it. Maybe it was just a momentary lapse in judgement. Maybe him and his wife were separated, and he wasn’t ready to fully let go. At the thought, Emily felt her heart leap with excitement. The emotion was quickly followed by a strong wave of guilt. Emily shook her head, trying to clear it of her messy thoughts. This was taking up too much brain space. Space she needed for her thesis.

Whatever the answer was, it didn’t matter. Dr. Barnes was her advisor. There was a clear line that could not be crossed. Therefore, it did not matter. She needed to let the subject go and just move on.

Two days of “moving on”, Emily found herself elbow deep in flour, butter, sugar, and eggs, but no less preoccupied by the thoughts of Dr. Barnes.

“Tell me why we needed to use my kitchen when you have a perfectly good one?” Emily asked Natasha, looking at the disastrous mess around her. Flour covered every surface, including the floor and themselves. Butter wrappers and eggshells sat piled high in the trashcan. Splashes of cookie dough coated countertops and cabinet fronts. And Natasha was planted squarely in front of the oven, watching the fruits of their labor bake.

“Because, you have the most baking supplies out of everyone I know,” said Natasha, never tearing her anxious eyes away from the small glass window. She was a mess. Several pieces of red hair had fallen from her attempted ponytail. Blobs of cookie dough hug from the strands, sticking like large, grotesque, white grub worms. Flour covered all of her clothes and a manic expression covered her face. Oh, she had it bad.

“You know, the cookies aren’t going to bake any faster by you staring at them.”

“I can’t let them burn, Emily. This is important!” exclaimed Natasha, threading her fingers through her sticky hair and pulling at the roots.

“Hey. Hey, hey, hey—” Emily slid off her place on the countertop and crouched down next to Natasha on the floor “—Listen. There are already five dozen perfectly baked snickerdoodles sitting in Tupperware on my dining room table. The world won’t end if this last dozen gets a little dark.”

“But-but—”

“No, no, no. No buts. Besides, you only volunteered to bring two dozen cookies to Steve’s bake sale. Remember?”

“Yea, but I mean, we-we needed—”

“Test batches. Yes. I remember the last five hours very vividly.” Emily cupped her best friend’s face in her hands and stared into her frightened eyes, “Steve is going to love these. Please, breathe.”

Natasha nodded, taking a deep breath, “Okay. Okay, yea you’re right. You’re right. I just need to calm down.”

They both stood, pulling each other into a tight hug before separating and beginning to tidy up the kitchen. As Emily wiped the cabinet fronts with a washrag, she finally felt like Natasha was in the right headspace for her to ask the question that had been on her mind all afternoon.

“Hey so, you and Steve have gotten pretty close the last month and a half, yea?”

“Yea, it’s been so great. You know, I really think that taking it slow was the best idea,” said Natasha as she dumped a dirty bowl in the sink and turned the faucet on.

“And I’m sure he’s probably told you a lot of stuff about him…and his friends…”

“Where is this going Emily?”

“Has he mentioned anything about Dr. Barnes or like…his wife?” The moment the words left her mouth, Emily knew it was a mistake to ask.

“No. Absolutely not. I am not doing this with you Emily,” said Natasha, throwing the kitchen sponge down into the soapy water.

“What?” Emily asked, trying to pretend she hadn’t just asked her best friend for details about her advisor’s marriage.

“Don’t ‘what’ me, Emily Colvert. You know what you’re doing. Actually, no. Do you know what you’re doing?” Natasha leant against the countertop and crossing her arms in front of her.

“I’m trying to get to know my advisor better?”

“No, you’re trying to use my still very new relationship to get dirt on a marriage that doesn’t involve you!”

“You know, you used to be a lot more fun. What happened to fun Nat?”

“She started dating a kindergarten teacher. Now, answer this question Emily: why do you want to know about his wife? I thought we hated this man,” Natasha said, staring skeptically at her.

“We did, but now we might be okay with him…” Emily admitted, unable to look directly at the admittedly terrifying woman that was her best friend.

“Emily, are you sleeping with him? Because if you are, I don’t know whether I should be disappointed or oddly proud.”

“No! I’m not sleeping with him! I’m just curious!”

“Okay, I’m only going to say this once—” Natasha walked towards her “—he is your advisor. The details of his marriage are none of your business. As your therapist—”

“You’re not my therapist—”

“—And your friend, I highly recommend that you keep your curiosity buried. Deep down. You know, where you keep all the shit you probably should talk about. And stop trying to sabotage my relationship with Steve by making me snoop for you.”

“I’m sorry, you’re right,” Emily apologized, guilty for having tried to rope Natasha into her craziness.

“I know you’re going through a lot right now. But, not cool man. Not cool,” said Natasha, her tone lighter as she nudged Emily’s side.

Natasha’s phone buzzed from the counter, subsequently putting an end to their conversation. The smile that spread across her face as she checked her phone told Emily exactly who it was. Steve.

“What does hunky farm boy want now?” Emily asked, turning to the sink and taking over washing the dishes.

“Parent-teacher conferences ended early. He wants make me dinner,” said Natasha, still smiling down at her phone as her thumbs typed away.

“Ooooo dinner at his place. Does this mean you’re finally going to…ya know?” Emily raised her eyebrows suggestively.

“God. I hope so. He’s so hot Emily. I went and visited him at work the other day and he was having a tea party with a couple of the girls in his class during play time. I’ve never wanted to fuck a man in a flower sunhat so badly in my life,” groaned Natasha, burying her face in Emily’s back.

“I can’t even begin to imagine what goes on inside of your bedroom,” Emily said, shaking her head in exasperation as she scrubbed at a spatula.

“There’s a lot of roleplay and prop use,” mumbled Natasha into Emily’s back.

“Yea, I didn’t need to know that,” said Emily, wriggling away from the tiny red head. “Now, get out of here. Take your cookies and go have sex your very single, very hot kindergarten teacher.”

“Don��t have to tell me twice!” Natasha exclaimed, practically skipping out of the kitchen. Emily heard the faint sounds of Natasha grabbing her stuff and a muffled “Wish me luck!” before her front door slammed shut. Lord have mercy on that man.

She continued to clean the kitchen as she thought about the advice that Nat had given her. Natasha was right. She knew she was right. For all the gripe she gave the woman, she really did give the best advice. But still, she didn’t see any reason why it would be so wrong to get to know the man. As friends of course. Purely as friends. There was nothing wrong with having your advisor as a friend. She was friends with Dr. Erskine. He was married. Why couldn’t she be friends with Dr. Barnes? A little voice somewhere in the back of her mind tried to remind her that she had never been in a situation where she almost slept with Dr. Erskine, but she ignored it. They had agreed to try and have a working relationship. Therefore, everything that had happened was in the past.

Drying the last dish and placing it back into the cupboard, the timer on her phone chimed alerting her that the last batch of cookies was done. She pulled the piping hot, cinnamon-sugar creations from the oven and placed it on the stovetop before turning the alarm off on her phone. The scent of the delicious treats made her mouth water. It was going to be a challenge not eating all of them in one sitting, but at least Natasha only left her with a single batch. Turning out of the kitchen, she found her assumption to be incredibly incorrect. There, sitting on her dining room table, was nearly three dozen cookies. Emily sighed. Apparently, she’d be responsible for finding a home for all the test batches. She could probably pawn a dozen off of on Sam and CeCe. There was always the graduate student lounge. People left food there all the time. Of course, she’d keep half a dozen for herself – there was no way she could resist snickerdoodles.

Suddenly, a self-proclaimed sweets lover popped into her head.

Pulling up the message app on her phone she sighed as she stared at the string of unanswered texts from Clint. He’d been trying to contact her since the day she kicked him out. Emily wanted none of it. Every call she sent straight to voicemail and every text she left on read. She took a moment to glance at the most recent texts.

Clint:

Babe. I swear to you, I didn’t want to go to Goody’s. I wasn’t there with Sharon. It was a lab thing. I found out where we were going when they pulled into the parking lot.

Clint:

Things with Sharon and me are over.

Clint:

How many times do I have to tell you that it meant nothing? It was just a stupid mistake.

Clint:

The least you could do is answer my calls and talk to me like an adult.

Clint:

This is exactly why I did what I did! You’re always so unwilling to open yourself up emotionally to me! I wouldn’t have cheated if my emotional needs were being met.

Clint:

I’m sorry Em. I didn’t mean that.

Clint:

It’s completely my fault. I’m just going crazy without you. I miss you. Please talk to me.

A small part of Emily told her to text him back. He gave her two years of his life. Didn’t she at least owe him the decency to explain himself? A larger part of her scoffed at the thought. No. She gave him two years of her life, and he didn’t even have the decency not to cheat on her. To hell with him and his reasons and opinions.

Pulling up her conversation with Dr. Barnes’, she smiled at his contact name – Brooklyn. She only meant it as a way to tease him about his big city caution, never as an actual nickname. But apparently, he liked it. So, she kept it. Moving back into the kitchen, Emily picked up one of the hot cookies and began to nibble on the edge as she popped herself up onto the counter.

Emily:

Question – do you still happen to have a major sweet tooth?

Absentmindedly, she chewed on the cookie, switching over to Twitter and telling herself that it wasn’t a big deal that she texted him. It was casual. It was just a casual question. She had extra cookies. He probably liked cookies. Normal. Super normal. However, the way her heart leapt in her chest and her phone leapt in her hand made her feel anything but normal.

Brooklyn:

If I didn’t, would I be going to town on the three loaves of banana bread Steve dropped off earlier?

Emily:

Bake sale?

Brooklyn:

Bake sale.

Emily:

Test batches?

Brooklyn:

Yup. He wanted to impress Natasha. How did you know?

Emily:

I just spent the last five hours baking with Nat. We made a lot of test batches.

Brooklyn:

Wow. They were made for each other.

Emily couldn’t agree more. If Steve truly spent the entire afternoon baking multiple loaves of banana bread to impress Natasha, then her best friend might have found the one.

Emily:

So, I’m guess since you already have three loaves of banana bread you probably don’t want any snickerdoodles?

Brooklyn:

I never said that.

She laughed at his quick response.

Brooklyn:

Are they any good?

Emily:

It’s my personal recipe.

Brooklyn:

That doesn’t answer the question.

Emily:

It’s the best cookie you’ll ever have.

Brooklyn:

The best? That’s a pretty strong statement.

Emily:

I wouldn’t make it if it wasn’t true.

Dots appeared on the screen as Dr. Barnes responded. Emily watched, wondering what he could possibly be typing as the seconds ticked by. Finally, they disappeared to be replaced by his response.

Brooklyn:

Do I get to taste your cookie?

Emily choked on the bite of cookie she’d been chewing. Coughing and sputtering, she attempted to dislodge the treat from her throat. When she’d finally managed to avoid certain death, she turned the faucet on beside her and used her hand to scoop water into her mouth. Glancing back down at the phone in her other hand, she stared at the message. Did he mean it to sound that way? To sound so dirty? Heart beating prominently in her ears, she gathered what courage she had and replied.

Emily:

You can have a taste.

Emily:

Of my cookie that is.

Oh god. Way to keep it professional. What had she done?

Brooklyn:

I’m sure your cookie is delicious. When can I have a bite?

Abort. Abort. Things were quickly getting out of hand. She was exchanging sexual innuendos with the man when all she wanted was to get rid of some of her extra baked goods. The way she saw it, Emily had two options: keep the flirting going and see where it went or put a stop to it now. In a panic, she chose the second option.

Emily:

I’ll bring a dozen into the lab tomorrow! I’m sure you’ll like them. Feel free to share them with the other professors as well. G2G! See you in class.

Hitting send, Emily threw her phone face down onto the counter. Shoving the rest of the snickerdoodle into her mouth, she jumped off the counter and walked towards the bathroom. She needed a long, cold shower.

Marvel Taglist:

@caffiend-queen

@hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall

#fan fic #fan fiction #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky x ofc #professor!bucky #professor!bucky x ofc #flirting #texting #tension

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